#but I’m always here… lurking… me and Zayn we see it all
Text
A fic rec of One Direction fics where Louis is a villain of some sort as requested in an ask I can no longer find oof Hope you see this rec whoever asked for it! If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!
- Louis/Harry -
💀 Wanted Most by BornOnABeach
(E, 156k, thief Louis) Louis Tomlinson is a thief, and a damn good one at that. Most have heard of him. Most don't understand him. And Harry Styles is the FBI agent who can never seem to catch him.
💀 Cover Me with Jewels by ShatteredGlassHouse / @larryislove
(E, 55k, thief Louis) the one where Louis is a jewel thief and dating Harry Styles, the heir to a designer jewellery business empire, but Louis worries Harry will discover him, so he disappears for five years.
💀 Tied Down by HamPalpert
(E, 48k, drug dealer Louis) The most interesting case in Liam and Niall's careers falls directly into their laps, courtesy of an epic fuck-up of one Harry Styles, partner to the almost-infamous drug dealer Louis Tomlinson.
💀 I'll Throw Away My Faith (Just To Keep You Safe) by @theboyfriendstagram
(E, 42k, assassin Louis) AU. Harry Styles is an MI6 agent on a mission to find out who’s planning on killing the Prime Minister. Louis Tomlinson is a wanted professional assassin, hired by the MI6 to kill whoever wants to kill the Prime Minister.
💀 Please, Deceive Me by Larringiscaring
(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis robs casino's with his ex-boyfriend, and Harry trusts a criminal a little more than he should
💀 no pressure, no diamonds by @karamelised
(E, 42k, thief Louis) Louis is a thief, Harry a grifter. They are thrown together for a huge diamond heist in Paris, where their past soon catches up to them.
💀 Buried Like Treasure by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird
(E, 40k, thief Louis) Semi-retired thief Louis Tomlinson has been pulled in for one last job: steal a painting from an uninhabited mansion. Neither one of them expects a natural disaster.
💀 The Risen (series) by @creamcoffeelou
(E, 28k, cult au) In search of the next breaking story, Harry goes off to do something no one else has been able to do: get the scoop on Louis Tomlinson and his devoted group of followers.
💀 For You, I Will (I Don't Believe in Magic, but) by theweightofmywords / @lil0
(E, 17k, criminal Louis) Louis leads two lives, when all he wants is a simple one with Harry.
💀 focal point by rainbowsandgucci
(M, 8k, thief Louis) By the time you read this, I’ll be gone, so don’t bother looking. Last night was lovely, Harry, I’m sure you agree. Sorry to run, but that’s just how life works sometimes, I’m sure you understand. Don’t forget about me. xx P.S. Thanks for the money
💀 Daisy by Jennifer_Kaid / @poetsreprieve
(E, 3k, mob au) An assassin who lurks in shadows, who kills with a detachment towards his victims, their death always displayed artfully for anyone who stumbles upon the corpse once his work is done.
💀 Stealing My Trust by Phillipa19
(E, 3k, organized crime) Harry hates the danger Louis' 'job' puts him in, but no one ever said being in love with a criminal would be easy.
💀 we're swimming with the sharks until we drown by velvetnoodle
(T, 3k, thief Louis) There’s only one thing that makes Harry’s job on the casino floor bearable, and that’s a chance to grab the attention of the mysterious man who frequents the establishment often.
💀 How to Catch a Christmas Tree by Anonymous
(E, 2k, omegaverse) It's two days until Christmas and Harry needs a Christmas tree.
💀 Marionette by Anonymous
(E, 2k, witch Louis) Harry is a vampire on the hunt. He doesn’t know that he’s not the top of the food chain.
💀 The shape I've made you into by flamboyo / @riverswater
(M, 1k, established relationship) "Sometimes, I wish you'd hit me."
💀 Twenty-Eight by @beardyboyzx
(M, 1k, spy au) Agent Harry Styles has finally caught his nemesis, but there's a knot in the plot he's not ready to detangle.
- Rare Pairs -
💀 To Catch a Thief by StormDancer
(E, 49k, Zayn/Louis) There are some rules even thieves have trouble breaking. Marriage vows, for instance.
#ficrec#villain louis#1dficvillage#hltracks#trackinghome#trackinghappily#tracksintheam#ficsfor4am#1dsource
181 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Hey everyone- I am very sorry to have to tell you that I /the discourseoftheday blog will be going on hiatus, effective immediately. Will I be back with daily updates, you ask, and if so when? I genuinely have no idea, but I have enjoyed doing the blog a lot so it’s possible. If so I don’t know when though; could be a short time, or a long time, or maybe I’ll return in exactly 18 months just to flex on One Direction. Faith in the future? In the meantime, while the detail of the day roundups are suspended indefinitely, I expect to pop up with the occasional commentary or explainer, and lucky for you all there are loads of hardworking people scouring the internet for content and keeping the regular update accounts running on a daily basis. You’ll be fine, just remember the golden rules of figuring out what’s really going on- click through to the source or check the notes and tags for info, just google things, and if it came from tiktok or deuxmoi it’s something someone straight up made up; it might be true just by luck, but no real reason to think so.
All the love, June ‘21
#as some of you will recall I am dealing with wrist injuries and reduced capacity#and as much enjoyment as these bring me they are simply using too high a percentage of my limited spoons and preventing me from doing other#things#there’s no point in telling me I should keep doing them because honestly I’d love to I just can’t right now#but I’m always here… lurking… me and Zayn we see it all#so you can still come chat me about things that are happening even if it isn’t me who told you about them#love you guys a lot for real#this is not the end etc#might not respond to messages promptly today though#readers you've been amazing all the love#see you soon...#for the record I'll never delete by choice the archive will always be there for checking back for things
236 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dystopian Larry Fic Rec
Inspired by some of the lovely people and fic recers on here, I’ve decided to start making my own fic recs. If you’d like, you can request recs in my inbox and I’ll see what I can do <3!
Please read the ratings and tags to these fics (because some of them are dark or have dark themes) and enjoy!
You Try To Be Everything (I Need) by lululawrence - @lululawrence (NR, 36k)
Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.
There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.
Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.
Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.
-
I loved the way the magic and technology in this fic intersected in such a unique way and the way the world was built was extraordinary!
red hands by reveries_passions - @dystopianharry (T, 132k)
I’ve never told anyone,” Harry murmurs, voice so soft no one else would be able to hear, if it wasn’t just the two of them.
“But you’ve told someone,” Louis says firmly. “And that’s not gonna fucking happen around here. You don’t speak a word of it, or someone’s going to kill you, and we can’t let that happen.”
*
a dystopian au in which harry, an ex-soldier who’s escaped from his government run camp, accidentally stumbles across the biggest rebel movement in the country, and louis, one of the rebellion’s mysterious leaders who appears to hate him, seems to simultaneously have an obsession with keeping him alive. or: harry is wanted for treason, niall hasn’t changed in four years, liam is always smiling, and louis is angry. like, really angry.
-
The plot of this is just *chef’s kiss* in so many ways! I love the way the characters interact with each other and I’m weak for Niall and Harry’s friendship in this.
Love After the End of the World by writing_practice - @mercurial-madhouse (E 158k)
“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?”
-----
Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.
When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.
-
This just came out in the most recent Big Bang (that’s still on going so you should definitely check that out) and this fic is so amazing! I think it does a great job of just really immersing you in the world the characters exist in. Love After the End of the World is also a Soulmate AU and I love the way those parts come together. It also has an amazing prologue called PROMETHEUS RISING (M 5k) that I enjoyed immensely set in the same world!
at last, at last by suspendrs - @suspendrs (NR 41k) Locked
“Come with us,” Tommo says, stopping at the other end of the gymnasium, near the doors. “Don’t let them make you suffer any longer. Come with us, and be human.”
Before Harry has even finished thinking it through, he’s on his feet, gaining the attention of every single person in the gymnasium. What has he got to lose, anyway?
Or, Harry is born into a cult in a post-apocalyptic world, and Louis is the leader of the rebel group tasked with the mission of shutting them down. Together, they make a rather effective team.
-
This fic does a great job of making you feel like you’re experiencing with the characters, like I could practically smell what the characters were smelling! The world it’s set in is so cool and the entire fic feels so well thought out and everything is so consistent!
my love will never leave you by we_are_the_same @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed (T 10k)
In a world where memories are used as currency, Louis will do anything it takes for Harry to get better.
-
I loved the idea behind this. Like the entire world is so brilliantly done! And it was all based on ONE word (because of the wordplay challenge). Even though it’s set in a different world everything feels so grounded and realistic and I really really like that about it.
a prayer for which no words exist by Eliane (M 34k) Locked
"Louis is a few seconds away from blowing up a rather important section of the New York subway when he sees Harry for the first time."
-
In this fic the characters motivations are so clear (to the reader) and I love how it goes from Louis accidentally sort of, kind of, kidnapping Harry to them becoming friends then more. I also love how no matter where they are the fic has a real sense of place. This is part 1 of landscapes of war. The entire series is really good!
Who Painted the Moon Black by throughthedark (E 95k) Locked
“People died,” Harry whispers so quietly Louis strains to hear. “People died, and I killed some of them. How does life just go on after something like that?”
Louis shakes his head. “I don't know. It just does.”
Hunger Games AU where Louis Tomlinson is district six's victor from the 69th Hunger Games and Harry Styles is district seven's victor from the 72nd Hunger Games.
-
This fic is a hunger games AU that both people who have and haven't read/watched the Hunger Games can enjoy. I like how it explores the world of the Hunger Games in a way that isn’t explored in the Hunger Games canon. It’s really intense (like the E is for the darker themes and violence) and I enjoy it a lot. There is a happy ending (as the author assures in the tags) and I really enjoy all the struggles that the characters go through.
Nobody Marks You by graceling_in_a_suit @graceling-in-a-suit (T 33k)
“The plan is: we’re gonna put on a play. Now, I see some doubtful faces–” Louis looked around and found zero doubtful faces. Liam looked intrigued, Zayn looked bored, and Harry looked scarily blank. “But this is what’s happening. We’re gonna do some fucking acting, we’re gonna perform our hearts out, and we’re not going to think about anything else. The past, the future; none of it. All we’re going to think about is... “ Niall trailed off, eyeing the bookshelf to his left. He closed his eyes and reached a hand out towards it, running his fingers over the covers before pulling a book out at random. “William Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing.”
AU: Five assholes stuck in a bunker put on a play.
-
This is one of my absolute favorite fics. I just love the way the characters interact and they way the story is told. It’s nonlinear so you jump around in time and it shows the way the character's relationships change throughout. I’m a sucker for Much Ado About Nothing and though you don’t need to read it to fully appreciate the fic I think the use of the play throughout is genius.
@1dfanfictionbookcovers has a really cool cover for the fic as well HERE
With a whimper by kitundercover @kitundercover (M 132k)
Dystopian AU. Louis has been alone for too long to remember how not to be, and Harry has too much to worry about to deal with a scrawny, wild, stranger.
---
The man grips his arm tightly. “You’re not going to say anything.” It’s not a question.
Louis shakes his head, his body twitching.
“Fine.” Large green eyes survey him before letting go. “It’s cold. Take this. Wear it.”
Louis can’t help another flinch as the man’s long scarf is wrapped around his tender neck, it’s still warm. He touches the soft material. “Thank you.”
The man bears his teeth. “Don’t thank me. Don’t ever thank me.”
-
The thing this fic does really does is showing emotional reactions. Louis’ inner monologue is so well done and I really like the plot of the story.
these bountiful silences by tommoandbambi (T 123k)
they live in a world where they can only say four words per day. harry meets some people that don't want to live that way.
-
I really, really, really, like this plot and the story! The world that the characters exist in is so interesting and I just love the way in which it is a dystopia.
106 notes
·
View notes
Text
I've been actively blogging for more than six months, even though I've had a tumblr account for ten years. I started reading One Direction (specifically Larry) fanfiction about the same time.
Originally, I read exclusively canon compliant fiction--I was hungry for industry insider, what-could-have-happened narratives. But I've slowly branched out into other genres. I find fanfic--good fanfic--super calming. When I've had too much stunting, too much noise, I grab a fanfic and immerse myself. So I thought it was time to do a post about my favorites. Keep in mind, I'm terrible at cataloging, and I have over 150 bookmarks on my A03 Account, so this is by no means an exhaustive list.
I'm not including the classics like Tired, Tired Sea and Escapade. While I do love both of those (so well written), because a lot of people know about those already.
My all time favorites are by @helloamhere
1. The Multipicity of Powers - https://archiveofourown.org/works/28580229
Maybe in another universe he isn’t different. Maybe he hadn’t been given an impossible choice. Maybe he wouldn’t have lost everything and broken everything and then fallen impossibly, irrevocably in love with the first next thing that was kind. Maybe in that universe he doesn’t feel like he’s never breathing, always pretending, teaching the kids even though they all have to learn alone, trying hard not to read the headlines, and so afraid, every day, that he won’t be a good enough teammate to the superhero he can’t live without. He knows that love isn’t supposed to feel this way, slid secret under your skin like a surgical razor, an invisible war held close over the tender vein that keeps you alive. On the other hand, Louis wonders, had he ever known how to do it any other way?
Maybe there’s a universe where he doesn’t have to keep all his secrets on the inside.
But this isn’t that universe.
//an X-Men AU.
Me: I never thought I'd love a super hero 1D cross over, but this is so well done. The backstory, the pacing, the characterization, the friendship. Read it.
2. Saving Symphony Hall and it's prequel Night Out - https://archiveofourown.org/works/12633921
“I think I have an idea,” Louis said. Slowly, and reluctantly, but with a growing sense of the inevitable. “God damnit, I think I have a really good idea.”
“Oh christ, that's the problem-solving face,” Babs said. “Last time we saw that face, he sold a company.”
“Wait, what?” Zayn asked.
“Right place, right time,” Louis said. “Also, fuck my life,”
“What?” Zayn repeated. Niall patted his hand.
“I usually just roll with whatever Louis is about to do,” he said. “It’s better for us all.”
“That’s the attitude,” said Louis, “I’ll tell you tomorrow. Tonight, I need to do some research. Zayn, give me your number. I’m gonna save our symphony.”
Me: The best sex scene I've ever read is in the prequel Night Out. Sexy, but tender. I love the characterizations in this duo--ABO but not traditional. Doesn't feel out of character.
3. Just Let Me -https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695350
The party was going well. So well, Niall had already sworn undying love to one multi-tiered chocolate cake, two friendly corgi-poodle mixes, Zayn’s hair, and the entire population of Los Angeles. So well, Zayn had only laughed and ruffled Niall’s hair and not even twitched towards a cigarette. So well, nearly everyone had spilled far past the boundaries of the night’s original plans, extracting bottles of vodka from the cabinets and losing a lot of clothes. Harry had proclaimed that he was finally going to throw a small and very grownup dinner party and of course here they were three hours later, fifty people half-naked in the pool. Soon to be full-naked, if Louis had to guess. Everybody in LA loved a heated pool. Everybody loved Harry.
Me: I love love love this. Harry is so gentle, and Louis is so stubborn and needy. It's ABO but subtle. I'll read this one again and again. It's comforting.
@HelloAmHere is one of the best writers I know--amazing stuff. I also love their werewolf story, but it's not finished, so I won't link it here.
Other favorites:
1. Seven Up by cherrystreet - https://archiveofourown.org/works/5828539
Very loosely based on the British TV show "The Up Series" and somewhat inspired by the song “Something I Need” by Onerepublic, we follow the lives of Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson in an interview setting every seven years. They fall apart and come together, their lives and emotions recorded. Harry calls it a time capsule. Louis calls it a pain in the arse.
Me: Trigger Warning, major character death. I literally SOBBED through the end of this. It was lovely and devastating. So good. But be warned.
2. Light, Spark and Fire series by @greenfeelings
Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.
Or, Louis and Zayn run a music label, Liam is Britain’s up-and-coming pop star, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down until he builds his own up, and Niall holds them all together without realising he does.
Me: A nice healthy three-parter. Characters you just want to live with for a while.
3. Relief Next to Me by dolce_piccante - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1117942
AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.
Me: This one is super long, so be prepared when you dive in. It's got a lot of lovely bits, and some great smut.
4. 2012 'Verse by ashavahishta - https://archiveofourown.org/series/27601
Me: This is a five-parter and satisfies my love of canon compliant stories. It spans most of 2012 and into 2013, and illustrates the difficulties of Harry and Louis' relationship amid the band success and management disapproval.
5. Love After the End of the World by mercurial-madhouse (writing_practice) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/31251434/chapters/77248901
Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.
When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.
Me: Really unusual (as far as I can tell) end of the world story. I loved the characterizations of soul mates here at the end of the world.
6. Flightless Bird by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6401653/chapters/14656807
AU where Louis Tomlinson is a principal dancer with The Royal Ballet. When his rival from ballet school, moody dance prodigy Harry Styles joins the company, old wounds are reopened and old passions reignited. During the company's production of Swan Lake the secret that doomed their love is finally revealed, but will it be too late?
Me: Trigger Warning, sexual assault (by an original character to a major character). This was a little brutal because I hated to see a broken Harry, but it was well written and has a happy ending.
7. Wear It Like A Crown by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1816771/chapters/3900322
AU. As part of a team of fixers hired to handle a gay scandal in Buckingham Palace, Louis expects Prince Harry to be a lot of things—most notably a royally spoilt brat. Never mind that the very same Prince Harry used to star in quite a number of Louis' teenage fantasies.
Me: I loved Louis in this one--actually they are both pretty great. Scratch that, they are ALL pretty great.
8. Shake Me Down by AGreatPerhaps12 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331958/chapters/7285322
Harry's new to college, fresh out of Catholic school and conversion therapy camp, and Louis runs the campus LGBTQIA organization.
Me: I don't like the self-hate here, but it was necessary for the story and H comes around. Found family vibe.
9. Gods & Monsters by Velvetoscar - https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090982/chapters/4550871
The instructions were simple: seduce and destroy Harry Styles. Not once did they discuss the option of Louis actually falling in love. So, naturally, that's exactly what he did.
Me: I loved Harry in this one. Louis gets there. I don't like Liam, but I don't think you're supposed to. Zayn is great.
10. Own the Scars by crinkle-eyed-boo (KimmieRocks) - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1010796
Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want. After an accident that nearly costs him his life, Louis' parents send him to rehab where he’s forced to face his demons. On the long and difficult road to recovery, Louis must confront the truths he’s been avoiding about his future, his relationships, and his sense of self-worth. Because before he can love anyone else, he’s got to learn how to love himself first.
Me: Harry is lovely in this one. Trigger warning, substance abuse and near death.
11. Wild Love by purpledaisy - https://archiveofourown.org/series/1030904
AU: Two best friends try to date each other for forty days. It's supposed to be fun until emotions make it complicated.
Me: I loved this way more than I thought I would. It's lovely and messy and I love it.
12. Victorian Boy by audreyhheart - https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosann1986/readings?page=6
Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.
Me: Historical fiction I didn't intend to love. I LOVE Harry in this one. LOTS of smut, so be warned.
13. Keep Me Closer by zanni_scaramouche - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30752633
Louis expects Harry to react poorly, maybe even file a formal complaint and that’s gonna suck ass but Louis won’t say shit cause he knows he deserves it, so he prepares an apology before Harry’s even turned around.
What he doesn’t expect is Harry to fucking drop.
Me: lovely, protective Louis just trying to do the right thing.
14. Turning Page by purpledaisy for SockstheDog
https://archiveofourown.org/works/11826345
AU: Harry Styles tries to get lost in a place he’s never been. Louis Tomlinson has been perfecting the art of being lost for years. What they don’t expect to find is each other.
Me: sweet love story. Niall owns a bar, and is pretty great.
15. Freedom Always Comes With a Price by Cyantific - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30278514/chapters/74624262
A shared dream brings them together onto the X-factor stage, but one decision changes Harry and Louis’ lives overnight. Thrust into a world of instant stardom, they're forced to live a lie to sustain their dreams, but years of living in the shadows and under strict management takes its toll.
With the bands impending hiatus, there’s no better time for change, so they think.
Desperate for a solution, they turn to an unlikely source with a radical plan. An unfortunate accident sets everything in motion, but not how they intended, leaving Louis’ memories altered, Harry broken-hearted and full of regret.
Can Harry figure out a way to fix everything? Will he even want to once he sees how Louis moved on after the hiatus? Will Louis ever find out the truth of their past and can he forgive Harry after all this time?
In the end, two friends find out that memories are elusive, trust is everything and love is the only antidote.
Me: Heartbreaking when they lose each other, but really good in the end.
16. Little Technicolor Things by scary_crow - https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025519/chapters/13821628
Louis is a poor writer and recent university graduate, depressed, anxious, and living in London when he meets Harry, an artist with a secret who likes to paint sunrises and pretty boys from California.
17. Hold You Now by solvetheminourdreams - https://archiveofourown.org/works/30253536/chapters/74556744
Three years ago, Harry Styles said goodbye to communications consultancy firm McQuiston Worldwide, leaving a life of travel and agency PR behind. When he accompanies his best friend to a family wedding across the Atlantic, he'll be forced to reopen old wounds and face his past—one that no one wants to hash out, but may just have to.
Me: Niall is great. They almost miss each other in this one, and you just want to bash them over the head. But they figure it out.
18. At Risk, I Fold by clare328 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/26542480
2015 is a stream of hotel rooms and whisky on the rocks, tired glances and touching hands under tables. It’s the bears and the bees under a rainbow sky, and Harry and Louis have to figure out how to grow up together, instead of apart.
Me: A canon compliant fic that feels like it could have really happened. Set in 2015. Lovely first chapter and scene where Harry writes If I Could Fly--i could read that chapter over and over.
19. Into The Blue by zarah5 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/1035822/chapters/2065499
AU. In which Louis is Harry's scuba instructor and quite happy to provide the requested special treatment, pun fully intended. It can't be all that difficult to convince Harry that they're on the same page, right? Also, Niall and Liam may or may not be dating, and Zayn is surrounded by emotionally stunted idiots. He bears it with dignity.
Me: AKA the Scuba fic.
20. Tie Your Heart by ArcadianMaggie - https://archiveofourown.org/works/546688/chapters/973236
Harry grows wings.
Me: How can you not love a fic where Harry grows wings? Trigger warning: injury of a major character.
21. I think I'll end this here. My last and probably first favorite (read it more than once) is...
my heart is breathing for this moment in time by usedtothebeach - https://archiveofourown.org/works/934996/chapters/1820282
When Louis first saw Harry at the 2010 X Factor Auditions, he thought he was watching a peculiarly special stranger. But Harry has known Louis ever since he was five years old.
Because Louis has a rare genetic disorder that causes him to Time Travel to important moments in his past and in his future - and to Harry, always to Harry. When they're put into a band together, it seems like everything Harry has been waiting and wishing for has finally come true. Except for the small fact that Louis doesn't know that Harry is in love with him- that Harry's always been in love with him. Fate, it would seem, is just getting started.
A story about growing up and growing together, and the impossible love that makes it all worthwhile.
Me: I LOVED the Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger, and I'm a huge fan of time travel, so this is right up my alley. It's really well done, weaving canon into fantasy and then going years forward in tme. I love everything about it. Great character development. Really good smut. Trigger warning, there's a little underage sex, so be aware. Anyway, LOVE this one so much.
I'll add to this but it's already longer than I meant it to be.
39 notes
·
View notes
Note
Agree so much with your post about the teams and fan engagement ! And love the way you articulated all of that. Although now I definitely am interested in knowing what your notes about the specificity of each team/artist cause I feel like they'd be fascinating to read. Hope you'll post them some day, and thank you for sharing your thoughts with us ! 😊
Awwww, that’s very kind! It’s definitely head canon city, I litcherally have ZERO clue what goes on behind the scenes (and I can’t stress this enough, none of us do), so this’ll look hilariously dated when we find out that blah woof was true all along, lmao (me @ myself, thinking of some random Grimshaw interviews from last fall, oh, bless). Let’s dig in!!
For those of you who just stumbled upon this post, it’s related to the one I made last night about how I think the management teams of all these men (mid-20s means = you’re a man, not a boy) are not, in fact, sabotaging them. They negotiate a lot of tricky interconnected arrangements that none of us are privy, to, plus they’re at least trying to achieve the goals their clients are going for. And they’re doing it—the trick is these goals are highly individual and not 100% sensical (at least given our own view from the afternoon, Arctic Monkeys ref, holllllllah!!!).
In addition, these goals constantly shift, as does the music industry itself—I drive my own self loony when I lurk on blogs that are seemingly broadcasting from 2012, confused by why xx’s team is so “terrible” because they aren’t throwing good money after bad to get on a radio playlist, or why they haven’t announced yy “properly,” as if they’re being paid to worry about this level of shit (which fires me up on about five levels, deep breaths in, deep breaths out). I’m much nosier about the signals we’re getting when we hear them talk in their beautifully media-trained way about their musical interests, when we get some of that sweet, sweet fan service with a Gallagher or a Capaldi, when we get that heads up about who’s attending what concert, stuff like that. These signals don’t necessarily indicate future collaborations, but they DO indicate what kind of image these guys want to have, the kind of music they want the public to associate them with.
Anyway, I’m getting ahead of myself…their personalities and goals at the moment are all so vastly different, and I truly do love seeing how their teams are workin’ it accordingly. Again, please @ god, don’t @ me…opinions, massively unpopular opinions, dead ahead!
* Zayn. My read on Zayn is that he enjoys the creative process, loves writing and singing, digs collabing with people, but he doesn’t seem to give two shits about the biz side (and why should he? that’s called living the dream at this particular point in his career). His website recently added “tour,” which EYEBALL EYEBALL, but he doesn’t seem to be all that interested in putting himself back out on stage or into radio/print/etc. anytime soon, and again, why should he? His numbers are HUGE without pushing himself through the anxiety-provoking churn he endured for four years, so there’s no real drive for him to do any promo if he doesn’t want to (see: the netflix-like binge dump of Icarus Falls, which could be “sabotage,” or it could just be, “fineeeeeeee, here’s some stuff for you, enjoy”). What other artist gifts his fans with gorgeous covers of such a wide variety of songs that indicate he’s more interested in sharing them than selling them. Accordingly, his fan interactions seem fairly pure and not all that promo-y: he has a keen interest in fanart, he’s done some fan pop-ups/listening parties that are pretty low-key and *seemingly* fan-focused, and recently (with zero anything to really promote), he’s been posing for cute pics and chatting with randos on the streets of NYC. I recently read that his mgmt team is no longer with him, but that sort of folds into my feeling that he’s not pursuing anything biz-wise, hence no need to jump through those particular hoops (I think he’s also struggled with a lot of demons, so yeah, why add one more). Could he be adrift? Maybe, but the next guy is the posterman for lack of focus….
* Liam. Honestly, I worry about Liam most of all. His post-1D career seems very much adrift, and I like to joke that he’s giving me that tell-all about the D one sentence at a time, but goddamn, are people listening? The struggles with alcohol, the lack of focus on every level, the reliance on his dad’s career advice (which more clearly reflects his dad’s financial class, background, and history than it does Liam’s), and the overall confusion about look, sound, and direction also flow back directly into his team. I get the feeling that they aren’t sure what to do because LIAM isn’t sure what to do or what he wants, so they follow in his wake. He’s agreeable to a fault, so seeing him at a meet-and-greet at an HMV in Birmingham last week felt like a step back into 2010 for no real reason, just like hearing that he was more or less coerced into full nude photoshoots for an underwear ad (the decisions to say yes to both of those—who’s steering this ship? If it’s Liam, he needs to tell the team his overall goal, so they can plot a course he and his fans can follow; if it’s the team, ditto). Like Niall, Liam’s actually pretty good at the SM game: lots of selfies, snapchat filters, outfits, gym service, twitter interactions. But generally speaking, his promo is confusing, and that’s probably because there isn’t much *to* promote at this point, other than a mix of collabs, clothing endorsements, spon con, horse farms, and an album that’s always on the horizon. This might be tied to the general post-1D jolt they all went through, like a plane coming off autopilot and into the hands of someone who’s just learning how to fly it. Zayn debuted at number one, so his bump wasn’t as harsh, but the others are slowly, steadily finding their footing after taking some time to find themselves and their sound, releasing songs/albums, performing (or in Louis’s case, going through unspeakable tragedy). Liam’s still adrift…and somewhat admittedly, which is kind of telling in its own way. Just know that my nervousness on his behalf ratchets up every time he feels the urge to assure us all that he’s happy.
* Niall. Truly the one following the original 1D template, right down to working with most of the same people but with more of the overall control in his hands instead of a faceless management squad. Of any of them, he seems the most ambitious, the most scientific about the sound he’s after and how he’s gonna get there. His promo is a mix of new and traditional—radio shows, talk shows, podcasts, special events, twitter interactions with fans, twitter interactions with entertaining celebrities—and it’s all hustle hustle hustle, build build build, as if he were a new ingenue instead of coming up hard on solo album number two. He’s explicit in his goals, which is refreshing, but it means he walks a weird line with fans: on one hand, he’s done with their bullshit, get ready to get rekt if you start commenting on his boring food seasoning or home décor. But on the other hand, he fully recognizes how much he needs them, which is why we get so many peeks into his “normal” life (yet zero percent of his actual personal life). It’s also probably why the blatant tweets of the last two days seem so jarring to me (I might be alone on this one, but I’m not a fan of directives in general, and asking me to call radio stations on behalf of a rich white man to become even richer just rubs me the wrong way, same with asking me to stream stuff to get you to number one…you’ve been there, buddy, how about you calm down and build some character at number 51). And speaking of calming down, it does fascinate me that both Niall and Louis namecheck Taylor Swift as someone who gets the whole fandom push/pull thing right, so watching them try to reverse-engineer her secrets is fun. Louis nails it (that hotspot treasure hunt: chef’s kiss), but Niall’s heavy-handed easter egg dump in NTMY, she would never!! I think Niall’s team needs to watch “Calm Down” about five more times before they try that again.
* Louis. I think Louis honestly has an AMAZING team in place, and they’re all clearly on his side, which makes for a refreshing change. Like Niall, he has publicly praised Taylor Swift for how she engages with her fans, but I think he’s missing a key point: she doesn’t let her fans dictate strategy, and I HOPE that’s the case for Louis, too. His old team *was* shit, so yeah, encouraging people to do fan projects to get the word out was a good idea, but turning that spigot off to let a good (paid) team step in and take over has been, uh, challenging. He’s dealt with more than his fair share of personal tragedy, but every time he gets some momentum going, it feels like something bts pushes him back off track, and he tends to keep it private, which only makes his hardest-core fans scream “sabotage.” Rightly so, he’s focusing on his personal life, and rightly so, his team is giving him the space to do that, even when it costs cash money and throws a lot of shit seriously for a loop. It makes my heart soar to see the potential of what his team can do/is doing, how much space he’s being allowed to process what he needs to process. Weirdly, that’s an unpopular opinion, and a lot of people want to indulge in an angst wank fest where Louis’s the victim of a terrible team that won’t DO anything (nevermind the fact that he’s probably ASKED them not to do anything), so they undertake a tremendous amount of performative unpaid labor that ends up being counterproductive on just about every front. Even worse, most of them can’t seem to process the fact that losing your mum is a blow, losing your SISTER is a blow, juggling other siblings or close friends handling some serious demons of their own in the aftermath of all of *that* is a blow, let alone handling your own personal coping mechanisms, nope, they want Louis to release release release, perform perform perform, c’mon, what’s holding him back, he *said* he wanted to release an album this year, there’s “no reason” for a delay, gotta be his shitty team, free him. It drives me ‘round the bend because it’s the same talk from late last year, you know, when we later found out that at least one family member was losing a fight with drug addiction. Louis’s fan engagement/promo is therefore hella fraught: he has to balance LouisTM on twitter (Mr. Donny, he’s hard, mate), his werk IG posts, and his constant edging because nobody can remember or trust that he’s got this, that multiple things are in play. But he also knows his fanbase, knows that it’s resistant to any kind of change, so I hope he pushes through and stays true to what he wants to do. I was really encouraged with his last promo round because he seems to have narrowed in on a something solid, he’s got a plan, and it’s not, “hey mr dj, put my record on,” it’s getting his fans to trust that he and his team know what the fuck they’re doing, and spoiler alert, it ain’t radio, but go ahead and keep pissing off djs by sending angry tweets their way. (Related: why is it so bad to avoid the radio when all of us admit that radio music is garbage? Is it because it’s more about you than him? Much to think about.)
* Harry. My very favorite head canon is that Harry is Jeff’s nightmare client: what was perfection at first because the Azoffs are old-school promo all the way (no SM, baby, gimme that sweet, sweet paper), and that dovetailed nicely with post-1D Harry, but it quickly veered into mulish teeth pulling. Low profile can quickly spin into no profile, and that really doesn’t work too well when you’re trying to sell sell sell, even if your brand is Harry StylesTM. HS1 and Dunkirk in their own separate ways worked VERY hard to push past the still-persistent way the general public views Harry as boybander Harry Styles, or more accurately, former boybander Harry Styles who dated Taylor Swift (if you venture out and ask someone who’s not a fan), but what I love about Harry is that much like Zayn, he doesn’t seem to be too bothered by all that. Sure, he’s ambitious, he wants to challenge himself and do things, but he’s no Niall Horan. He’s put in his time! If he gets a number one, then cool, but he’s not gonna chase it. And this is where Harry’s team really reflects his goals and energy: sure, they want him to do some promo (that “Do” tweet, the entire bit about the fan in Australia and Harry Lambert’s follow, goddddd, I loved it, petty Harry, resigned Jeff), but they clearly aren’t forcing him. He drops a song that makes a HUGE splash, and the follow-up is…liking some tweets and going to a John Mayer concert (not a John Mayer fan, so that wouldn’t be my first choice, but I respond to the zero fucks given about the whole thing). The music industry has changed a LOT in just two years, so it’s kind of cool to see team Harry pivoting a bit, seeing more SM interaction, the kindness generator, etc., but that said, the team takes their cues from him, and he clearly doesn’t want to do a whole promo circuit beyond persons a, b, and c, and magazine R, F, and A. Does it make sense to have Rob Sheffield write a profile about Stevie Nicks-blessed shroom-eater Harry Styles when his new song sounds like the Zarry combo of my dreams? NOPE, but that’s okay, Harry wanted to talk to Rob, so that’s what happened. The new song is more streaming friendly, and thank CHRIST, a lot less crusty white dude stuck in the ‘70s, so I can only hope that the rest of the album is thus, but we shall see! We’ll also see if Harry’s fan engagement shifts any further into the active zone…so far, it’s been “I’m gonna follow some larries, like these fun generator posts, check out a few dads” and staged photo ops with the same familiar faces, but I think he’s dealing with his own major bts issues as well (album delayed at least twice; that entire stalking situation). I still contend the album’s coming in the next few weeks, so it’ll be interesting to see if/how any additional promo rolls out in this new world order post-gryles landscape, how many interviews he’ll do, but I like that there’s a strategy that seems less stodgy…kudos to the new SM team, at least!!
Oh man, that got really long! Hope you enjoyed, and YES, opinions opinions opinions, and they’ll be stupid in about three weeks’ time, thanks for coming to my already dated buzzfeed article
#so many long-winded opinions#one direction#yeah#and shout out to kim for always checking my work!!!
67 notes
·
View notes
Text
Someone was interested in this so I guess I’m following up my soft Muriel playlist with a spicy Lucio one lol 👀💦
[Spotify] [Youtube]
(Track list and some lyrics under cut)
bad guy by Billie Eilish
I like it when you take control
Even if you know that you don't
Own me, I'll let you play the role
I'll be your animal
Talk by Hozier
I'd be the last shred of truth
In the lost myth of true love
I'd be the sweet feeling of release
Mankind now dreams of
Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys
Simmer down and pucker up
I'm sorry to interrupt it's just I'm constantly
on the cusp of trying to kiss you
I don't know if you feel the same as I do
But we could be together, if you wanted to
Tear You Apart by She Wants Revenge
I want to hold you close
Soft breasts, beating heart
As I whisper in your ear
I want to fucking tear you apart
Fresh Blood by Eels
After the fires before the flood
My sweet baby I need fresh blood
Go Fuck Yourself by Two Feet
Fucked and drank all night
Acted all alright
Had no need to fight
Tonight, tonight
Oh, Cruel Darkness Embrace Me by IAMX
There's only good and bad
There's nowhere in between
Everybody loves to judge
Everybody thinks they're clean
TiO by Zayn
Push me up against the wall
Don't take it easy
You like it hard like me
It's what you need
Rev 22-20 by Puscifer
Don't be aroused by my confession
Unless you don't give a good goddamn about redemption
I know Christ is comin', and so am I
And you would too if this sexy devil caught your eye
SEX by Rammstein
(This is from a translation I found, please let me know if it is not correct)
It's not quaking, it’s swinging
And the sirens sing
A desire inside of my stomach
Come here, you want it too
Bad Things by Rayland Baxter
tell me what did you see? cause i got a bad desease
and I need your remedy
and i've been aching from my head to my toes
I've been aching so much that i just don't ache no more
but there is a one thing that i need you to see,
you ain't never met a men sick as me
I Come With Knives by IAMX
The paradox or our minds
Too much to believe, too much to deny
You fool me again to quiet my pride
But I’m a human, I come with knives
Bitches Brew by Crosses
With your knees open
On display, you taunt the beast again
'Cause when you move and shake
That thing inside you comes awake
Skin On Skin by Queens of the Stone Age
From the moment you said "why haven't you kissed me yet?"
I knew I'd wipe that paint from your lips
I stare the lids off your eyes, gone down on your dirty mind
And end up between your hips
Corrupt by Depeche Mode
I wanna touch you with my hands on your hips
It would be too much to
Place my lips on your lips
You'll be calling out my name
Begging me to play my games
High For This by The Weeknd
You don't know what's in store
But you know what you're here for
Close your eyes, lay yourself beside me
Lurk by The Neighbourhood
I'll fucking digest you,
One kiss at a time.
You wish I was yours,
And I hope that you're mine
Play With Fire by Same Tinnesz
I've always liked to play with fire
I ride the edge my speed goes in the red
Hot blood these veins my pleasure is their pain
I love to watch the castles burn
The Devil Within by Digital Daggers
I will keep quiet
You won't even know I'm here
You won't suspect a thing
You won't see me in the mirror
But I crept into your heart
Devil’s Playground by The Rigs
All you find is yours to keep
Brave, are you brave enough to meet
The desires that you seek
Hold my hand, I'll set you free
NFWMB by Hozier
Give your heart and soul to charity
'Cause the rest of you, the best of you
Honey, belongs to me
Holding Out for a Hero by Nothing But Thieves
Somewhere just beyond my reach
There's someone reaching back for me
Racing on the thunder and rising with the heat
Hellfire by Barns Courtney
Hellfire, hellfire
Take my soul
I'm waiting, waiting
I'm ready to go
I Get Off by Halestorm
You don't know that I know,
You watch me every night
And I just can't resist the urge
To stand here in the light
You're greedy eyes upon me
And then I come undone
Two Weeks by FKA Twigs
Feel your body closing, I can rip it open
Suck me up, I'm healing for the shit you're dealing
Smoke on your skin to get those pretty eyes rolling
My thighs are apart for when you’re ready to breathe in
Undisclosed Desires by Muse
You trick your lovers
That you're wicked and divine
You may be a sinner
But your innocence is mine
Touch Myself by Genitortures
I close my eyes and see you before me
Think I would die if you were to ignore me
A fool could see just how much I adore you
I'd get down on my knees, I'd do anything for you
Hellbent by Mystery Skulls
I've been hellbent, baby
Hellbent on loving you
Paralyzed by Mystery Skulls
And the truth is.
You've got me hypnotized,
I'm feeling so obsessed with you
Hurt Me Harder by Zolita
So fuck me on the bathroom floor
And I'll pretend that I don't love you no more
And I'm too lucid, and you're too vague
I want you inside of me, like a plague
(These next two songs were welcome suggestions by @apothecaryremedies~)
PUSSY by Rammstein
You've got a pussy
I have a dick
So, what's the problem
Let's do it quick
So take me now before it's too late
Life's too short so I can't wait
Master and Servant by Depeche Mode
There's a new game we like to play you see
A game with added reality
You treat me like a dog
Get me down on my knees
#This one turned out a lot longer than the Muriel one#lol i wonder why#....I'm thirsty for that goat#that is why#the arcana#the arcana lucio#lucio#arcana lucio#count lucio#the arcana count lucio#arcana count lucio
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
ONLY LIGHT CAN CAST SHADOW: CHAPTER ELEVEN - THE REPUBLIC AT WAR
https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753210/chapters/37271105#workskin
Ships… Hundreds, even thousands of Mandalorian ships…. The gleaming and menacing blockade dropped out of hyperspace over the bluey glow of a planet below. For a moment, all was deathly still. It seemed as though everything were suspended in time, each second lasting for an eternity.
Suddenly, the ships seemed to open up, thousands of Basilisk raining down upon the helpless planet below. There was no Republic fleet, no planetary defenses… nothing to stop them. Onward they came in a seemingly never-ending wave of destruction and terror.
Suddenly, there was a sound, as if the entire planet, and the entire Galaxy were screaming all at once in a great pain. The sound grew and grew until it became deafening, the waves of Basilisk continuing to rain down from the sky. And then, seamlessly through the noise, slipped a voice:
There is no Peace…
There is no Knowledge…
There is no serenity…
There is only Death!
><><><><><
The Revanchist shot upward in her bunk, breathing hard as a cold sweat poured over her temples. Every muscle in her body was simultaneously frozen stiff, yet shivering in fear. Her eyes were wide open with terror. It was a vision!
While visions of the future were not unheard of for Jedi, it was seldom they came without great focus and deep meditation. There were seers among the Jedi Order who were quite gifted in receiving and interpreting these visions… but the Revanchist was no seer. Never before had she experienced something so vivid.
She wasn’t sure what she should make of it. It had all felt so helpless. And that voice… It was a voice she did not know, yet a voice that seemed it had always been there, lurking in the shadows, just waiting to be heard….
Clearly, the vision was some sort of warning. The Mandalorian threat must have been far greater than what anyone could have initially interpreted. When she was finally able to move, she pulled her robes over her body and began to make her way to the deck. She was glad that no one had been there to see her in that state. What the Jedi who had followed them needed was a fearless leader who would be able to see them through their efforts in this war. They did not need to see her so vulnerable…
When on the deck, she located Malak and pulled him aside from the others. She needed to at least tell her apprentice of the vision, but without unnecessarily alarming the others aboard. She described to him the ships, the screams… but chose to omit the voice. She was least certain what to make of the voice…
“The Mandalorians have more than enough force already to overrun the Republic,” she continued telling him. “When we do divide… Malak, promise me that you will do all you can to protect the company. I have a very bad feeling about all of this…”
“You know that you can count on me, Master,” the man said. “When we stop on Taris, we’ll be able to gather more help. There is strength in numbers…”
The Revanchist couldn’t help a bit of ironic laughter at her apprentice’s statement. “That, Malak, is precisely what I fear most…”
><><><><><
Taris was a planet that had entered into the Republic relatively recently. With its importance in trade and in economic status… these things had likely been a determining factor in the choice by the Republic senate. While it was certainly not one of the major locations of the Jedi Order, they did have a presence here at the Jedi Tower. It was here that the Revanchist hoped they might be able to recruit more Jedi into the Revanchists movement.
The Revanchist had felt it best if she spoke to the Masters of the Tower in private, rather than bringing along the whole group of Revanchists. After all, their actions were directly against the Council’s wishes, and it was still unknown what the reaction here would be. While somewhat removed from Coruscant and from Dantooine, the Jedi on Taris were still members of the Order and might try to halt the Revanchists’ activities, or convince them against their decision.
“Please, we ask that you kindly observe our practices and stow your lightsaber before entering the temple floor,” one of the Masters spoke as the Revanchist entered the room. Reverently, she bowed in compliance, storing her saber in the indicated stand before continuing. She did not need to provoke any unnecessary hostilities if she hoped to gain any aid from them.
“We have heard of your recent meeting with the High Council on Coruscant,” the Masters continued. “Curious that you would come to see us after such a brash display…”
“My intention was never to defy the Council’s wishes,” spoke the Revanchist, “only to convince them to reconsider their choices in light of recent events…”
“And yet, that is precisely what you did. Tell us, why have you now come to Taris after so openly defying the Council on Coruscant?”
“I am certain that all of you are aware of the current locations in the war’s front lines and their proximity to Taris. There is no doubt that the Mandalorians will soon try to make a move on the planet itself unless they can be stopped first. It is the duty of the Jedi Order to protect the innocent, and this is no more strongly felt anywhere right now than it is on Taris. What I ask of you, Masters, is your aid in our cause. Any Jedi who are willing and can be spared would be most helpful in the progression of our mission.”
With these words, all five of the Jedi Masters of the Temple began to laugh simultaneously. The Revanchist looked around the room in disbelief. She couldn’t believe that they of all people would not be willing to take the threat seriously.
“Did I stutter?” she asked. “Is what I have spoken of seemingly funny to you?”
“Forgive us,” one Master finally managed, “but there are so few of us here on Taris that to think we could spare even one is simply foolishness. We are, after all, the only Masters here, and all others are only Padawans and Younglings—there are no Knights. Even if what you were doing was with the Council’s support, you would find no help here on Taris.”
“I see,” the Revanchist said with a tinge of bitterness. “I apologize then for wasting your time.” And with this, she bowed, retrieving her lightsaber from the holding and left the Temple.
><><><><><
Malak roamed the streets of the Taris Upper City, near the Jedi Tower. Taris was a bit of a strange place. It was so advanced in its urbanism, yet so primitive in its idealism. Alien species outside of humans were generally frowned upon by the majority of the older natives. There was a sort of corrupt ideal that Taris—particularly the Upper City—should be for humans only. The extremist seemed to have calmed some since the beginning of the Jedi presence on Taris, but they still existed. They were only muffled for the time being.
Seemingly out of nowhere, there was a crash in a nearby alleyway. Curious as to what had caused such a commotion, Malak went to investigate. In the alley, he found a human male—no more than a teenage boy, really—who had landed in a trash heap near a compactor entrance.
“You really ought to be more careful where you step,” Malak said, going over and helping the boy to his feet. It was then that he noticed the lightsaber hilt which hung at the boy’s side. “You’re one of the Padawans from the Temple here, aren’t you?”
The boy nodded, rubbing his backside. “You got me,” he admitted. “Zayne Carrick is the name.”
“And what is it exactly that you’re doing out here, Zayne Carrick? It seems rather strange for Padawans to be falling from the sky into random alleyways and backend streets…”
“Well,” Zayne began, “I was on an assignment from Master Lucien to capture a Snivvian by the name of Marn Heirogryph, but so far it’s not looking good. Not that the Masters expected me to succeed to begin with. Master Lucian says I’m a reminder that the Force has a sense of humor…”
Malak could see that the kid seemed upset. From what he could tell, Zayne Carrick was known among his peers for such blunders as his current situation. “Don’t be so down about it,” Malak told him.
“What are you doing here anyway?” Zayne asked him. “I didn’t realize that there were any Jedi here on Taris, other than those being trained at the Tower…”
“My Master and I are just passing through,” Malak explained. “We’re headed to the front lines of the war against the Mandalorians… My Master hoped to stop on Taris to try to recruit any able-bodied Jedi to our cause. After all, we’re going to need all of the help we can get…”
“Against the Mandalorians?” Zayne repeated, seemingly puzzled. “My Master says that the Mandalorians are no business of the Jedi…”
“So does the Council, unfortunately.”
“They always said that it was the duty of the Jedi to defend the Republic against the Sith…”
“Except that the Sith threat ended about thirty years ago. Right now, there are no Sith… but the Mandalorians… The Mandalorians pose a very real threat right now. It seems they could be raiding the Temple itself and the Masters wouldn’t bat an eyelash unless someone mentions the dark side…”
It was at this point that Malak got a notification on his commlink. “Malak, this is Ferroh. The Revanchist has returned from her meeting with the Masters. We’re readying for takeoff—they will not help us.”
“A shame, but we should have expected as much… I’ll make my way back now. Over and Out.” Malak turned his attention to Zayne. “Sorry kid, but it looks like it’s time for me to get going… I wish you could have been able to meet my Master… Listen…. If you ever decide that you want to join us, the Revanchists will always be open to you.”
“Thanks,” Zayne said, “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“May the Force be with you,” and with this, Malak left to regroup with the rest of the Revanchists.
><><><><><
It was the fourth time that the Mandalorians and the Republic fleet had engaged in combat above the skies of the planet Suurja. The planet was in between the recently captured Flashpoint Station, and the recently formed Jebble-Vanquo-Tarnith line. The Mandalorians were attempting to advance forward, toward Taris and deeper into Republic Space. Combat had been going on for several weeks now, and still there was no clear victor, but Captain Saul Karath was determined not to allow the Mandalorians to advance any further. They could not be allowed to break through the barrier.
There were Sixteen-Million Republic Colonists on the Planet’s Surface, and so Captain Karath had made an effort to keep as much of the fighting as possible away from the settlements on the planet’s surface. While fighting did occur planet-side, it was kept mainly in unpopulated areas.
Still, as the battle continued to rage on, neither side seemed to gain any edge. It seemed as though the fighting would go on indefinitely were it to continue in such a way. Already the fourth formal battle was taking place. If this were any indication of how the rest of the war would be, then both sides were in for quite a ride.
After so long fighting, both sides were ready to declare that enough was enough. After all, Suurja was primarily an agrarian planet. It was hardly going to make or break the war, whichever side wound up winning in the end…
In the end, nothing was left but a wake of destruction on the behalf of both sides. No one was “safe” or “triumphant” … but all was finished. All was dead and still in the aftermath of war.
><><><><><
It was planetary Sunset when the Stalwart Nightingale landed on Suurja. The Revanchists had decided to land away from any settlements both for the purpose of not disturbing the locals and for the purpose of trying to get a clearer firsthand view of what had occurred during the recent battles there.
There was an eerie stillness about the planet’s surface. It was almost unnaturally calm in the wake of the recent events which had taken place there. The group of combat specialists, lead by Malak, stepped forth from the Stalwart Nightingale onto the planet’s surface. The Revanchist was with them.
“I am hesitant to leave you,” the Revanchist admitted to her Padawan. “I fear that something terrible will happen here. The Force is uneasy in this place. There is much still at unrest…”
“I promise I will let you know if we encounter any problems,” Malak assured her. “You just focus on the plan for the rest of the outer rim, dividing our scouts and gathering information from the previously war-torn planets.”
The Revanchist nodded. She knew that her apprentice was right. There was so much ground for them to cover that it would be impossible for them not to split up…
><><><><><
The lush plant of Onderon remained mostly untamed and full of jungle, with the exception of its capital, the city of Iziz. Since the union of a beast-lord to Queen Oron Kira, much of the civil unrest on the planet had ceased to exist, and the two groups were now able to live in relative harmony with one another.
All was so peaceful. All was so still. It was nighttime, and the planet’s moon, Dxun, was full overhead. Night insects chirped and the beasts all slept in their burrows…. But a voice came through all of it, so subtly that it was as if no one else could hear it…
Only Passion…
Only Chaos…
Only Victory…
Only Death….
A sort of shadow began to descend from the sky, from the moon itself. Instead of light, Dxun was only reflecting darkness…
><><><><><
“Master?..... Master!?”
The sound was faint at first, as if heard from underwater while the source was above the surface. Gradually, it grew stronger and stronger, until finally….
The Revanchists eyes fluttered open and she gasped for breath, as if she had been deprived of oxygen for some time. She had fainted into the arms of her apprentice, so it had seemed. The Revanchists around her regarded her with concern. Their ‘fearless leader’ had collapsed out of seemingly nowhere.
One she realized the situation, the Revanchist quickly pulled herself together and stood on her own, as if nothing had happened. She could not cause them to worry. Not now… That was not the leadership that they needed.
“A vision,” she murmured. And then she looked her apprentice in the eye. “You remain here with the group as planned. I will take the others to their designated stations… but I need to go to Onderon….”
“Onderon?” Malak repeated with some confusion. “But they’ve not been touched by the war… Not yet, at least. I thought you were going to check the situation of things on Deralia…”
The Revanchist simply shook her head. “Talon will have to wait… I feel that this is important… More important than any of us might realize at the moment... I must go to Onderon. There is something there… I can feel it….”
Malak worried about his Master’s words. There was something different about her since that night that they had met in the grove. She had seemed increasingly paranoid at every turn. He thought that the idea of this war must have been getting to her. The pressure of leading so many young Jedi into battle… and without the aid of the Council… it must have been quite taxing to her senses and to her emotions, even as one trained in the ways of the Force.
“Are you certain that you will be all right on your own?” he asked her.
“I’m fine, she said, trying to assure all of them. “I was merely unprepared for the vision to come when it did. I know to be more alert now…” and then she whispered to Malak alone “I feel that there are greater forces at work here than the Mandalorians alone…”
She looked at him with a very serious expression, so much that Malak would not have thought of questioning her opinion on the matter. Whatever was to be found at Onderon would prove to be important for this war. The Revanchist and her apprentice nodded solemnly to one another and the Revanchist re-boarded the Stalwart Nightingale. It was time to determine if what she had seen of Onderon and of its moon, Dxun, was true or not…
1 note
·
View note
Photo
Imagine being a Ripper yourself and you stumble across a stranger who seems to share your insatiable hunger.
Story Title: “Murder for two”
Characters: Ripper!Stefan x Ripper!Reader (female), numerous random people *cough* victims *cough*
Warnings: murderously violent. Contains blood pretty much everywhere, murder, corpses, and other possibly disturbing things.
Word Count: 1269
A/N: I toned this down a little bit in my rewrite, so it´s not as crazy as it was, but it just wouldn´t have worked out that way. Also, this idea sounded so much better in my head, I hope it´s still enjoyable! And maybe I will continue this at some pointif you want me to, maybe with people from either Stefan´s or the readers past showing up. We´ll see As always, Feedback is welcomed and appreciated
Masterlist | Taglists
Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }
It is a terribly stereotypical Friday night in a small town in Virginia. Teenagers are out and about searching for something to believe in while they stagger unsteadily along the paved sidewalks, either from intoxication or sleepiness. Or both.
But among those lost souls, there are creatures lurking in the shadows, eyes always watching, always stalking, always waiting.
The streetlamps burn through the cloak of the fog, reflecting their light on the bright colored hood of sportscar. The road ahead of you is empty and lonely, the only comfort is the loud shuddering of yet another song without a melody that pulsates through the speaker. There is just you, the music and the lonesome road - and headless corpses in the backseat.
Your eyes catch a young couple heading towards a bar, the name Mystic Grill burning bright through a glass window. The male plants a soft kiss on the female's hair and she blushes, clutching his hand tighter.
Oh, young love……..how disgusting.
You bring your borrowed car to a hold around the corner, away from prying eyes. You don't want to scare potential meals away. Even though a runner is always exciting.
The leather seats squeak slightly as you exit the car, sticking your head through the open window. The blood coming from your passengers has already spread over the entire joined backseat, dipping the unfortunate white leather in red.
“No funny business back here while I'm gone, alright? Don´t want to stain the backseat, now do we?” You wink at them, even though you left any part that would allow them to wink back a few miles down the road on a white picket fence of a very unfortunate citizen.
You swing open the Grill´s door, stepping into a pool of blood on the hardwood floors.
Blood pooling on the hardwood floor, as well blood splatters over the wall. Someone definitely had some bloody fun in here.
There is a faint sound heard from further into the building and you round the edged corner, coming face to face with a fellow vampire. He senses your presence and in his blood haze, he fails to recognize your - well - dead state and quickly wraps his hands around your throat, expecting to take a bite.
“Ah ah ah, I don't think so.” You flip his wrist and pin him against the nearby wall, his bloodstained neck firm in your hands. He seemed to be surprised by your superior strength, his eyes wide as drops of blood fall from his mouth, decorating your covered arms.
You release him and turn on your heels and make your way towards the bar, hopping over a few dozen people on the ground. You stop and collect a shiny ring from one of the victims, and put it on your own hand. A girl can't have enough jewelry, right?
You grab a bottle from behind the counter, taking in the whole scene in front of you, “Impressive work you've done here. Love the new color.”
“Who are you?” The stranger asks, his eyes gleaming with curiosity.
“Name´s Y/N.” You knock down a shot of whatever booze you grabbed from the bar “How about you, handsome?”
“Stefan. Stefan Salvatore.”
“I would say it´s a pleasure to meet you, Stefan, but since you spoiled my fun I'm not sure it is.”
“Fun, huh” He cocks his eyebrow as he shortens the space between you and leans against the bar “Most women, vampire or not, wouldn't call this fun.”
“But doesn't that revoke every instance we have?I” You slide a glass over the counter, filling it to the brim “I mean that´s what we do, isn't it? We eat people.”
“Something tells me you enjoy much more than just, uh, eating them.t You're like me aren't you? A ripper?” He asks, before nipping on the drink.
“No.” You shake your head “I´m much worse. Unlike other rippers, I extend the play with my food. I don't just drain them dry. Where would be the fun in that? ”
Faint heartbeats, maybe four or five heartbeats are heard from outside. It seems another meal is being delivered right now.
“You up for a little game?” You ask and Stefan nods instantly, curious what kind of game you have in store.
The sound of darts rushing through the air followed, accompanied by the decreasing heart rate of your meal fills the crowded room. Your legs are draped over Stefan's lap, his snack already dead at his feet, yours almost drained as well.
“Mhmm, this one was delicious.” You retract your fangs from your victim's almost ripped-off neck and push her on the floor, her head rolling to the side.
“How´s it going over there, friends?”You look over to the remaining people of the group, who are occupied with the dart game you assigned them to, but they don't bother to answer.
“Hey!” Stefan calls out and speeds over to the male of the remaining snacks you both will consume soon enough “Y/N asked you a question!”
“Sorry uh. we're done.”
Uh!” You jump up from where you were sitting, clapping your hand together with excitement “Tell me my friends, who won?”
“I did.” The girl raises her hand.
“Congrats! You get to choose who lives.You or your friend.” You explain to the shaking young lady. Stefan watches your every move a few feets away with adoration and excitement.
“I…”The girl shares a worried glance with her male friend, both of their hearts deliciously pumping with fear. It´s music to your ears “I c-choose me.”
“What?! How can you do this to me?!” Her friend calls out, the betrayal and fear visibly covering his face.
“Well well well. Self-preservation instinct. How very predictable.” You share a glance with Stefan, who seems to be enjoying your show very much.
“I think we have to be equally predictable in return, don't you agree Stefan?”
“Only seems fair, Y/N.” Stefan shrugs.
“Perfect.” You turn your attention to your trembling friends, your veins darkening. “Surprise surprise. You both die.”
The guy takes off running first but doesn't get too far, your firm hands yanking his head to the side, breaking his neck instantly, followed by your sharp teeth breaking his skin.
The screams of Stefan´s victim fill the room, but quickly fall silent as he bites her neck several times. His meal drops on the floor several minutes later, as does yours, drained of every last drop of blood.
Through the blood-haze, you turn to look at each other, blood dripping from your mouths, your veins still laced with darkness. When your lips collide, the savory yet sweet blood of your victims mixes together. Stefan lifts you up and speeds to the counter trailing bloody kisses down your neck while you tug at his shirt. You unbutton the first buttons before you impatiently rip it open, the buttons joining the dozen corpses on the floor…..
Tags:
Forevers: @laitalianax3 @shadyladyperfection @imnoaingeal @christinalibertymikaelson @maliae14 @akshi8278 @5-seconds-of-animals @fanobsessed @givemesomehybrid @laserchick101 @bbycastiel1 @bonniebird @originalbish98 @relmi-llorrac @piercethepottorff @captain-amelia-bradley @lauren-novak @drkplum @zayn-baby @onlygodcanjudgeme-sh @hellhoundlover @not-that-kinda-gurl08 @whatshernamemaria @jaib2-blog @fandomsandotherstuff @hanzas01 @all-hail-supernatural @itsbubbaog @vampire2018 @marvel-is-my-job @supernatural-lover-teamfreewill @wendydarling24601 @truelobster @sassymcgonagal1651 @buckysummers @sanity-is-overratedxp
Stefan´s buddies: @tvmoviegeek3807 @ogstydiashipper @shantayok
Masterlist | Taglists
#stefan x reader#stefan salvatore imagine#tvd#tvd imagine#the vampire diaries imagine#the vampire diaries#ripper!stefan#justfangstvdto request#justfangstvdto
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
drops of sun (zayn/louis 28.1k)
a Tangled adaptation in which Zayn’s the lost prince high in a tower with magical fingertips that glow, Louis’ an on-the-run thief that’s stolen the palace’s crown and together they find themselves in a deal that may or may not make them wish they never met.
big thank you to the lovely tori for the drawing!
His feet hurt like hell the more his feet thud against the ground as he runs but it's the only thing stopping him from losing the swarm of police. Just a shitty pair of shoes that he seriously should have replaced when he had the chance. Imagine what kind of quality the running shoes would be back at the palace. With the money they have it probably feels like running on fucking clouds.
He can feel Niall closely behind him, Harry a good few feet in front. Damn Harry and his stupid long legs. Louis bets that if he wasn't gifted in that department that he'd beat him in a race any day.
"Get up on the roof!" Niall shouts, his voice heard over their stomping feet and sirens in the background. It's dark, so their figures won't be noticeable from far away but Louis can see multiple car lights coming closer and closer from the reflection of a building’s window.
Harry climbs up the wall (with a lot less grace than one might assume thieves have) and hurries to pull up Louis first, then Niall. As Niall's climbing up, Louis takes in the view. A broad range of lights covering the city, and one building in particular. The big palace complete with towers taller than skyscrapers and architecture worth billions of dollars.
Louis sighs forlornly, "Isn't it spectacular, lads? One day, I'm definitely owning a castle like that."
"The fuck's he on about?" Niall questions, noticeably out of breath.
"Who knows," Harry replies, then tugs on Louis' elbow as though he hadn't just heard them and isn't offended in the slightest, "Come on, Lou. We haven't lost them yet."
Louis' eyes close in on where cars and policemen with flashlights still roam the area. "Right." He says, then leads them over the roofs of houses, "This way."
He crosses two, three buildings where the roofs connect, sliding on the tiles slightly from last night's rain. The sirens are still close-by, and Louis contemplates dropping to the ground again and hiding until they're clear.
But who's he kidding—he stole the Prince's crown, of all things—the police aren't stopping until they're locked up for bloody life. They'll never be in the clear.
"Lou," Harry says, tapping his shoulder. He points to a secluded street, an alley-way that leads to a dark abyss. Far away from where the police are.
Louis nods once and slaps Harry on the back, "Good man."
They take turns sliding down the drainpipe, careful not to make too much commotion incase a passerby or the residents of this house take notice and scream. If there's one thing Louis' learnt from his life experience as a thief, it's that a woman's scream can ruin every chance of getting away.
Luckily, being Louis Tomlinson, he's never had that issue.
~
Today's the day he asks.
It's been eighteen years. And in exactly two days it'll be nineteen. Six thousand, nine hundred and thirty-five days. Give or take.
So if he doesn't ask now—when?
Maybe he should make something nice for her, a painting or something. Or would she think that's lame? Especially since he'd be asking her a favour after giving it to her. God, no. Scrap that idea entirely.
He sighs, sits on the couch in despair. He's asked once before. It ended with shouting and making her cry and he felt awful for weeks afterwards. But it's been years. And all he's ever known is the tower’s walls and the view from his window. The view from which he sees the same lights in the sky once a year, magically on the same night as his birthday.
He looks at the spray paint on the wall, the night sky decorated with the yellow lights that seem to float to nowhere in particular. He imagines—always imagines—what it's like to see them up close.
"Zayn!"
He's startled from his position and stands from the couch, rushing to the window. He sees his mother waiting below in the darkness, waving to him. Before anything else, fear settles in his belly. He takes in a deep breath before opening the window and pushing the button from outside, the one that allows the front door to open for only three seconds, stopping any kind of other intruder that might be lurking.
He hears her coming up the elevator and he plays with his hands nervously. Just ask, Zayn thinks to himself, There's no harm in asking.
"Hello, sunshine." She greets, smiling. "Help me with the shopping, will you? I bought extra groceries this time around, thought we could make something extra special for your birthday dinner this year. Hm? What do you say?"
“A—actually, uh," Zayn licks his lips and picks up the bags, trying to get his brain-to-mouth function to work accordingly, "I was thinking, that... We could do something else this year?"
His mother pauses once the bags are on the kitchen counter. Zayn swallows nervously. "Oh?"
"Well, I was hoping that, uh, we—we could go see the lights?" Zayn says, watching her expression carefully. Then he hastily tacts on, "And come back home as soon as it's over, of course."
She breathes in, slowly. Her palms rest against the side of the bench, her unsettlingly long nails tapping on the marble. "Darling," She begins, voice level, "What have I told you about going out there?"
“I—I know, but—“
"I know best, sweetheart. There's no point in trying to leave. It's pathetic; a stupid light show that nobody even cares about. And you have a perfectly good view of it from the comfort of your own home!" She smiles tightly, notices the way Zayn's body deflates, "Listen to me, Zayn, come here." She pulls Zayn in for a hug, one that he falls into immediately. It's all the comfort he needs. Until she squeezes him just a little too tightly, and utters, "Don't you ever, ever ask me that again."
~
So, the 'abyss' turns out to be a black brick wall leading absolutely nowhere.
"I thought this only happens in the movies." Niall mutters with a laugh, one Louis knows all too well as stress-induced.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry paces, hands to his hair. "What are we gonna do?"
"Well," Louis swallows, mouth suddenly dry. The fear eats away at him but he tries to think clearly, "We could run again, the other way-"
"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Niall almost shouts over the sounds of sirens that are coming closer and closer, "Didn't you see them zero-ing in on either side?"
"Up." Louis says. He takes in both their confused looks and turns towards the garbage disposal next to the wall. "Hoist me to the roof and I'll pull you both up."
Niall and Harry both look at the distance between the garbage and the roof, then exchange a look between them both. Harry holds out his hand with a "give me" gesture.
"The satchel." Niall clarifies.
If Louis had time, he'd go on a spiel about “all they've been through together” and “even after all these years” they're “still skeptical”? But alas Louis just settles on a: "Still don't trust me, lads?" And receives a look that conveys all too much from both of them.
Soon enough, Louis' on the roof of what he guesses is a restaurant, and he's about to stretch down to grab a hold of Niall's hand, when—
"Stop right there!"
Officers block the entry immediately, armed with guns and tasers of the vast variety. Cars come into view, too, and it's the moment that Louis has a second to look at his boys, plus the shit-show they've found themselves in, and makes a decision in amidst it all.
He lets out a very manly squeal as the army of cops come charging down the alleyway, and in the split-second of this happening, Louis manages to throw out a quick, truthfully sincere apology—and sprint off in the opposite direction.
"Get him!" The police yell.
"Fuck you, Louis!" Niall and Harry say afterwards, with a lot less venom than Louis had expected. "OH, YOU FUCKING TWAT!"
Ah, there it is.
Louis can't help but grin as he throws on the satchel he stole from Harry's arm over his shoulder, the crown now firmly bouncing against his hip as he hops, skips and jumps over roofs and tiles.
He can still hear sirens, still hear the pairs of feet behind him struggling to catch up with Louis' quickness, a finesse that one can only acquire after years of thieving.
He darts and swerves from one building to the next, knowing that they're not too far from each other and can tell which ones will be too hard to climb or too low to drop. The police will never catch him, never.
And that's when the first gunshot is heard.
Fuck.
Louis speeds up his pace, jumps down to the first roof he sees. The tiles aren't as sturdy as they would be in a rainless week, and Louis' damn shoes aren't as good as they used to be.
Another gunshot.
He hears it hit the steel chimney right next to him, making Louis' heart beat faster and faster.
He's losing them, he knows, they're only shooting blind. But another shot fires and Louis can feel it whip passed his neck.
And that's when Louis' feet jump and he hits the roof just slightly off-kilter, and slips.
~
"So," Zayn says, a little squeakier than he'd like. He clears his throat, "So, I've been thinking."
His mother looks up at him from across the table, her eyes turn cold, “Zayn—"
“Not—not about that. Well, sort of, it's about my birthday."
She dips a bit of bread into her soup, her eyebrow quirked expectantly, "Go on."
"For my present, could I get some new paints, please?" He asks, swirling his spoon around in his bowl, "The ones you got me last year. I liked those ones."
At this, she sighs. "Really? But that trip took me three days to get."
Zayn bites the inside of his cheek. "Please? They're all I... All I could think of wanting."
She closes her eyes, sinks in her chair a little more, "Fine. I'll leave tonight."
Once Zayn has packed a bag for her, cleaned the dishes, the dining table, the kitchen, his mother sets off into town.
"I'll be back, little flower." She says, kissing him on the forehead.
Zayn presses the button to open the door for her and she leaves, waving to him from a distance.
He watches from his window, waves back. "I'll be here." He mumbles.
~
Rolling down a hill uncontrollably isn't exactly something Louis saw himself doing when he woke up this morning. It's extremely disorientating, and actually quite painful. The satchel is clutched in his hands, making sure it doesn't squash on the ground like his entire body is right now. All his bones could break in half and it still wouldn't be as expensive as fixing a mere scratch in the Royal jewels.
He rolls, then rolls some more. He's pretty sure a rock has stabbed his abdomen and he's lost a shoe but he doesn't have time to cry over any of that because eventually, the rolling stops.
“Jesus—fuck, ow." He turns on his back, grabbing at his side. There's blood, but not enough to keep him pinned to the ground. He searches up the hill, tries to see if anyone's managed to follow him. It's completely bare. "Idiots."
With all his might, he manages to get onto all fours. He wonders if it was worth it, abandoning his allies. Wonders even more when he finally stands up, the cut on his ribs almost killing him with pain. He goes to check the crown within the satchel to know if it was worth it if there's a scratch on the damn thing or not. He pops open the button, and that's around the same time he hears the flick of a gun's safety switch being turned off.
"Drop the bag." Says the gun-holder, who sounds very close to his ear.
Louis curses to himself, partly from fear, partly from disappointment. How could he not have heard him?
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Louis says, hands flinging up to either side of his head in surrender. He slowly starts to move around, tries to lock eyes onto the man, which was probably a false move, because now there's a gun pressed directly to his forehead, "Well, look at that, you've got me."
"I want the bag."
Louis looks to the policeman—and from what he can see thanks to the stars and the moon being sufficiently bright tonight—he’s clad in a different uniform than the others, yet still owns a badge all the same. He's younger than most, maybe even younger than Louis, and he's shaking.
"Skipping the formalities, are we?" Louis says with a quirked brow, watching with great delight at how Liam's own brows are furrowed tightly together. "I'm Louis Tomlinson, if you care to know. And might I say, you're doing a marvellous job, honestly."
"I know who you are." He manages to say, “And—and I'll kill you."
"Oh, you don't want to do that, do you?" Louis asks, cocking his hip to one side. "We only just met, and I haven't even caught the name of my capturer!"
The young cop blinks rapidly, hand noticeably shaking even more. He swallows, thinking, then says, "Payne." His voice comes out strained. He clears his throat. "Liam Payne. Now—hand over the crown, Tomlinson."
Louis lets a small grin show as he looks Liam in the eyes. There's a lot of inexperience in this boy, a lot of fear, too. He probably has never been in the heart of a crime scene before, let alone killed someone. And judging by his different uniform, Louis settles on something that makes him grin even more. He's not even fully qualified.
"Listen, I'll make a deal with you." His hand goes to the satchel, Liam's eyes following. "I'll give you this. I will. I have no other choice, do I? But, I'm quite partial to doing as I'm told when I've not got a bullet that's threatening to blow my brains out any second faced towards me."
Liam takes Louis' words into consideration. The muscles in his arm become more tense the more he shakes. The barrel of the gun isn't even pressed against his forehead anymore, more like wavering to different parts of his face. He seems to have an inner turmoil, throwing up the pro's and con's of Louis' proposition, before he finally retracts the gun. Both of them let out a breath.
"I'll drop the gun, and you'll give me the crown?"
"Absolutely." Louis says straight away. "And you can even tell your boss you've killed me, anyway. It'll give you so much respect. You might even get promoted."
Liam nods, then slowly bends down. He’s just about placed the dangerous weapon on the ground when he says, "Okay. Your tur—“ then Louis' off, darting through the grass as fast as his newly bare feet can muster, unable to stop from letting out a loud cackle as he hears an angry "God dammit!" from behind him.
He hears a few misguided bullets shoot through the air before another pair of feet join him on the run. Liam Payne might be well-built and easily able to knock Louis out, but Louis' always got speed on his side. And speed always wins.
He weaves through the trees, bark and branches scraping at his legs and feet but he doesn't care, just focuses on making sure he vanishes where Liam can't find him. There's an opening in the trees and Louis sees it as an opportunity, darting out towards it before ducking behind a boulder and waiting.
A minute or so later, he hears Liam before he sees him, feet hitting the ground heavier than Louis', breath heaving. He stops at the opening of the trees, looks around, and then his expression drops.
"Fuck!" He groans, then reluctantly decides to turn back around, hands in his hair, muttering a string of words to himself that Louis can't make out.
He feels bad for him, he does.
And when he can't hear Liam's self-loathing anymore, he sneaks out from the boulder and crosses the opening in the opposite direction, coming to a waterfall of leaves covering something like a curtain.
He pulls it back without so much as a second thought, and slips into what looks like yet another clearing, but over here it looks like the grass is greener. Funny, that.
He gives the area a quick scope, which is where he finds an antique-looking tower. It's deserted, Louis assumes as he walks towards it. It's covered in green vines and thorns, the brick grey and the building just a simple cylinder with a singular window facing towards him.
"Odd." He says aloud. Then, he shrugs. This will have to do.
~
Ding-dong.
Zayn picks up his head from where he's buried in his sketchbook, finishing off the shading of what he believes to be an Alien. He drops his pencil down onto the book and gets up from his chair. Mother must have forgotten something, it's only been three or so hours since she's left.
He considers turning on her electric blanket, knowing that if she's turned back now, there's no way she's venturing out again in the darkness.
He makes his way over to the window, and his eyes widen at what he sees when he looks down.
"Oh, no." He whispers under his breath, hitting the button to open the door quickly as he takes in his mother's form, kneeling over with a groan, pain coming from what looks like her abdomen. Zayn's high in the tower, and it's almost pitch-black, but he can tell she's in trouble.
Once he sees her vanish, Zayn makes his way to the kitchen just as the elevator comes up. He hurries to the dining table to pick up a chair.
"What is this place?" Comes an astounded whisper.
Zayn whips his head around. His eyes lock onto someone he was definitely not expecting.
There's an intruder. An intruder.
He ducks behind the kitchen counter. He hears the robber, or murderer, or kidnapper or whomever his mother has warned him about, roam slowly around the living area, taking in the place with sounds of astonishment leaving his mouth every few seconds.
When he's tracing his fingertips over one of Zayn's artworks on the wall, Zayn takes the opportunity to grab the first weapon he sees and silently waits.
"This is so fucking cool." The criminal says, and for a second Zayn thinks he's talking to him. His heart is going faster than its ever gone in his life. He doesn't reply, doesn't dare to.
He hears slow feet come closer towards him and Zayn rises only just. Then, just as the intruder's seconds from turning to face him, Zayn clocks him on the back of the head with a fry-pan.
And, shit.
Now he's got an unconscious man in the middle of his kitchen. An unconscious criminal in the middle of his kitchen. He's probably one of the ones his mother really warned him about. The people that want to take Zayn, to sell him for his magic and to keep him locked away.
Zayn swallows deeply, shaking hands managing to hold onto the fry-pan as he uses the handle to un-mask the stranger's face from his shaggy hair. He moves his fringe to one side, revealing a dirt-covered cheek and forehead. He's got stubble on his jawline and upper lip, but nowhere near as much as Zayn’s.
He looks harmless like this, and his figure isn't what his mother made them out to be at all. This one's small, the only sign of threatening muscle in his calves. He doesn't even have shoes on.
What he does have, though, is a bleeding cut on the right of his stomach and a bag that was holding a gold-looking, expensive item. It reminds him of his mother's jewellery, her necklaces and rings to match. This looks bigger, and it wouldn't fit on any of the places you're supposed to put jewellery.
He looks back at the man in his house, face down, unresponsive, and hurt. Zayn squeezes his eyes shut. He lets the fry-pan fall to the ground, the clatter of it making the floorboards vibrate. His hands find his hair as he tilts his head back towards the ceiling.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck."
So, he's got a complete stranger in his house and he might wake up any second now. It's great, it's fine. The first person he meets from the outside world and Zayn's managed to knock him out... which will most likely make the boy extremely angry. Which means, when he does wake, he could easily hurt Zayn. And... God, his heart is pounding.
He bounces on his toes, thinking fast. He's got new-found energy shooting through his veins and he needs to do something.
He can't leave the tower, that's for certain. And he can't throw the body out of the window, since that will most definitely kill him. But he can't just leave him there—he has to have a plan.
Zayn's eyes dart around the room and lock onto one of the dining chairs. He brings it over to the body, not once letting his eyes leave it. He's said to himself that if he catches even the slightest blink of an eye, he'll knock him unconscious again without hesitation.
And, actually... Maybe he should kill him.
He's an intruder, after all. He came here with obvious intent. His mother has always said nobody will ever get him from here, and if they find him, it's bad news. This man was here to take him away, and maybe—maybe—if Zayn kills him, his mother will see how excellent he is at taking care of himself, and she'll take him to see the lights.
Zayn scoffs at himself. Who is he kidding? He couldn't muster up the strength, physically and emotionally, to kill someone. And this someone is a person from the outside world, someone who knows everything that's out there. Someone who could tell Zayn everything his mother has kept from him since he was a baby.
He nods to himself, swallows harshly, and approaches the body.
He squats down, close enough for him to see the body move with soft breaths. He reaches out slowly, pokes the body's shoulder with his finger. No reaction. He's read about possums, how they fake their death to escape from predators, and Zayn wonders whether he's pretending to sleep to avoid another blow to the head.
To avoid this, Zayn slaps him across the face.
Nope, definitely unconscious.
Zayn takes in a deep breath. He places his hands underneath the man's shoulders and tries to hoist him up. He's complete dead weight, and although Zayn's spent a lot of time doing chin-up's on the ceiling's beams, he still finds himself struggling to lift the body up and onto the chair. He manages, though, and takes his time to regain his breath before he looks back at him, sitting in a slumped position, eyes closed.
But Zayn wastes no time and fiddles around in the kitchen before he finds what he needs. He makes a quick work out of the intruder, whizzing around him like one of his artworks, making sure it's perfectly what he wants.
Once he's done, Zayn stands back to admire it. The boy is now safely secured to the chair, wrists and ankles bounded with absolutely no movement possible. He smiles to himself slightly, before he realises his artwork is bleeding.
Zayn's logic, you see, is that this boy is full of knowledge. And if he's bleeding—well, he won't be much use if he's dead.
So, he fetches the first aid kit from the bathroom, and crouches down so his face is a little above the boy's knee, and begins to focus on the wide gash to his side.
He wonders how long it takes for someone to wake after being knocked out. With all the books he's read in his lifetime, he's never stumbled upon one that's told him the answer.
~
Louis wakes to a dull, throbbing pain to the back of his head. He also wakes to a stinging sensation on his cheek. And a feeling of pressure to his abdomen.
He blinks warily, eyes hurting from the light. Once his eyes focus, he realises the pressure on his body is a dabbing motion... Made by someone else.
He glances down hurriedly, only to be met with a boy who's kneeling below him, face close to Louis' hips as he frowns in concentration, a wet cotton ball soaking up the blood from Louis' gash.
He takes a moment to look at him, taken aback quite a bit, with the way his eyelashes swoop over his killer cheekbones, his features all sharp and prominent, a face that would surely be picked up by every fashion label possible. He feels the stranger's breath against his exposed skin, and Louis feels goosebumps decorate him.
Suddenly, the throbbing pain is forgotten.
"Well, hello there." He says smoothly, outwardly impressed by this attractive boy in a compromising position.
He doesn't know what he expects, but it's definitely not the model falling back onto the floor with a gasp, eyes petrified like he's about to be shot dead.
“Wh—hey," Louis frowns, suddenly concerned, "Why're you—“
It's then, when he goes to reach out his hand in comfort, that he feels the restraints around his wrists. He tugs once, twice, but it's obvious he's not leaving this chair anytime soon. He tries to kick out the rope around his ankles, too, but with the tightness of it added with the weakness of his body, Louis' held there for however long it takes.
He looks around the environment he's in, and it's not long until he realises where he is. The tower, the artworks on the walls. He thought this place was deserted, thought it hadn't been occupied in years—
"Don't move." Comes a shaky voice.
Oh, right. Mr Versace Model is here.
Louis turns his attention to him. He's now a fair few feet away, as though Louis' going to miraculously break from his hold like The Hulk and attack him. He's also, quite oddly, holding a fry-pan in his hands like a weapon, a faux-threatening expression worn on his face.
"Isn't like I could if I wanted to, could I?" Louis retorts, budging against the rope hopelessly for emphasis, "Were you, like, in the Swiss Army or something?"
The boy looks back at him blankly, "The what?"
Louis shakes his head, "Never mind." He looks him up and down, realises he must not be much taller than him, or much younger, either. "Why am I being held hostage, might I ask? Are you with the palace guards?"
He can see the Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows, his frown deepening. "Palace guards?"
Okay. So he isn't working for the cops. Or has any idea of who they are. This is weird.
"What's your name, gorgeous?" Louis asks, as sweet as he can manage. But the boy doesn't seem to even react slightly to the compliment.
“I—I don't want to say."
"Ooh," Louis replies, a smirk to his lips, whispers, ”Are you undercover?"
His jaw tightens, but his stance loosens a little, giving up on being tightly-wound and ready to strike. "Listen to me," He begins, tone level and completely serious, "I'm going to ask you some questions and you'll answer me truthfully. Got it?"
Louis can't help but think about how good-looking he is. He thinks that if he ordered Louis to do anything, he'd do it.
Louis shrugs, though, says, "Sure. Sounds easy enough."
He doesn't miss the way the boy's features light up in the slightest second, before he clears his throat and nods curtly. He doesn't miss the way his own stomach does a flip or two, either. Which is—weird.
Then suddenly they're sitting opposite each other, Louis—completely bounded and defeated, and the boy—hands in his lap, fidgeting nervously, fry-pan easily accessible at his side. Louis studies him for a moment or two as he tries to think of the first question.
There's something odd about him. Not appearance wise, but the way he acts. He's awkward, but not in the way Louis knows socially awkward people to be. And he's frightened of Louis, (if the way he jumped back from him when he woke is anything to go by) but judging by his lack of protocol and zero sign of him calling the police, Louis concludes that this stranger has no idea who he is.
"Why do you carry jewellery around?" Is his first question.
Louis sharply inhales. The crown. God, where did he put it? Is it hidden? Why can't he see it?
He must make a show of craning his neck to try and find it with his eyes because the boy clears his throat loudly with intent, making Louis look back at him.
"It's on the kitchen bench."
Louis flicks his fringe out of his eyes as he spins his whole body, chair only moving slightly, to catch his eye on the glimmering bit of fortune. He breathes out an unsubtle sigh of relief.
"Oh, thank God." He smiles, almost laughs. Hysteria or exhaustion catching up to him. Fry-pan Man looks more confused than ever, though, which makes Louis compose himself. "Right. Uh, do—do you have any idea who I am?"
And as he guessed, he's met with a blank stare. "Am I supposed to?"
This makes Louis fidget, "No, I suppose not." He swallows, then prepares an answer. There's an unsettling feeling in his gut, as though revealing who he is will destroy... Something. "I, uh, stole it. The crown. The piece of jewellery you're talking about. It's worth a lot of money, so."
The confession hangs in the air. He's expected for it to gain weight, to sit heavily between them. For there to be an instant phone call to authorities, an accusation, judgement. But all it receives is a nod, and then it's swept away as though it was a mere fact about his hair colour.
"Why do you want to kidnap me?"
Louis chokes on his own spit. He coughs, splutters, then looks at the boy who's face is sketched with mild concern. "I'm sorry?"
"That's why you've come here, is it not?"
"No, I—I’m not a kidnapper, Jesus. I may be a criminal, but I definitely wouldn't do that." Louis shakes his head in disbelief, "Why would you—what—?”
"Why did you come here, then?"
Every question is said so carefully, so lacked with emotion it makes Louis look like the most dramatic man alive.
"Look, love, I don't know how I stumbled upon your humble abode but I did. It seemed like a perfect way to hide from everyone who's chasing me and, quite frankly, I didn't think anyone even lived this far away from town."
At that, the boy dips his head. It might be the light, or Louis' disillusioned imagination but he swears he can see colour rising in the boy's cheeks.
"Can I ask you a question?" Louis says softly.
He shuffles uncomfortably in his chair before eventually nodding.
"Why do you live here? And why do you live alone and so far away?"
"I'd say that was two and a half questions."
This elicits a chuckle out of Louis, and the boy's eyes shine with something Louis can't pinpoint. Nevertheless, an answer never comes and he guesses it's an area that's off-limits.
"Alright, alright, a simple one this time." He licks his lips, "I feel as though we've established some sort of connection, wouldn't you say? But we still don't know each other's names. I'll start. I'm Louis."
The boy looks down at his feet, his eyebrows pinching together. Then, without so much of a mumble, he speaks. "Zayn."
~
"Zayn," Louis repeats, trying it out. "That's a nice name."
Zayn feels himself frown and watches as Louis' eyes suddenly dart away from his own. He scans Louis' abdomen briefly, biting his own lip as he sees the gash isn't nearly clean enough.
"We should fix you up." He says simply. Not waiting for a reply, Zayn stands and makes his way back over to Louis. He feels eyes on him as he kneels but for some reason he doesn't meet them, and instead focuses on ripping the fabric on Louis' shirt a little more to get to the deeper part of his cut.
"Are you a doctor, then?"
Louis' voice sounds different. Almost like he's forcing the words out. His torso's tightened, too. Maybe he's scared.
Zayn can't help but snicker a little at Louis' question, though. He's read about doctors—read about every profession, really—and knows the amount of study and practice it takes to become qualified. Becoming a doctor would actually require him to leave the house.
"What, am I wrong to assu—Ah!” Louis flinches away from the cotton swab as it presses to his skin, cleaning out the excess dirt. "You know, it'd probably be better if I just had a shower, wouldn't it?"
Zayn frowns again. A shower would mean he'd have to be released from the chair, would mean he'd be able to have privacy whilst he has one, and would probably mean Louis would have to borrow Zayn's clothes.
It is logical. But it won't do.
"How badly do you need the crown?" Zayn asks, going back to cotton-swabbing, ignoring Louis' sharp inhales of pain.
"Uh..." Louis stutters, confused, "A fucking lot. Yeah. It's sort of my life's income, that."
Good.
Zayn nods in response. It isn't until the cut is clean and free of dried blood when Louis talks again.
"Why, uh, why d'you wanna know?"
A gauge patch is enough for now, Zayn supposes. It fits perfectly over the gash, which, after being cleaned, isn't as bad as it seemed. He places it over the injury in a smooth motion, watching as the creamy-coloured material turns slightly darker.
He packs up the first aid kit and returns it to its rightful spot. From here, he can just see the slight profile of Louis' face. His head is darting around manically, probably trying his hardest to find a way out, if any. Zayn sort of takes pity on him. Sort of.
"I have a proposition for you." Zayn says, walking passed Louis and towards his favourite painting. The one on the wall, the stars at night.
He turns and sees Louis already staring at him. Then he blinks a few times and swallows his words before he says them, “O—okay."
"I want you to take me to see the floating lights."
He's met with a blank stare. Zayn stares right back. He wonders if all thieves are a little slow.
"The..." Louis trails off, eyebrows pulled together. Then his eyes lock onto the painting behind Zayn and his face flashes with recognition. "Oh, you mean the lanterns."
"Lanterns?"
"Yeah, they do it every year. Light up the sky with floating lanterns for the lost Prince." He says it like a quote, filled with a sort of nonchalance and boredom Zayn doesn't understand. He catches the moment Louis' expression changes to pure bewilderment, "How don't you know that?"
And... Zayn knows exactly how.
His mind crosses over to the countless times he's asked to see them, asked about what they are, asked why it happens every year on his birthday. And each time he's met with a short reply, a false description, a lie.
Anger, is what he feels.
"We'll leave now." Zayn tells him, determined.
"Now?" Louis almost chokes out, “What—I haven't even agreed to this yet!"
"You have to. Or else you won't get your 'income.'"
He sees Louis' face fall. His eyes automatically try to search for the crown. Strapped to the chair, he fails miserably.
"Okay. But, think about this for a second. What if I accept, you untie me, and I end up being a kidnapper all along, hm? What would you do then? I could lure you anywhere and you'd have no idea—“
Zayn snaps a bunch of dry spaghetti in his hands behind Louis' head. He's met with a desperate gasp, a sound one might make if they just witnessed a cold-blooded murder.
"Did you snap it, Zayn?!" He shrieks, voice a few octaves higher than normal. "I swear to fucking god, mate, that thing is more valuable than everything you bloody own!"
Zayn calmly walks so he's in Louis' line of sight again. Louis' eyes are filled with alarm, his entire body agitated, ready to fight as though he'd have any chance of winning. And then his gaze settles on the broken uncooked spaghetti and Zayn's sure Louis stops breathing, knowing his cover of not being a desperate thief is blown.
"Oh." He says, then clears his throat loudly. "Well, aren't you just the smartest captor?"
"You'll take me, then?" Zayn asks, his tone the furthest from questioning as possible.
Louis' entire body sinks, exasperated as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "I mean, haven't given me much of an option, have you? Though, can gladly say I'd probably grab the crown and run before you could even dream of catching up to me, but that's neither here nor there, is it?"
Zayn blinks. He's right. The satchel remains where it is, easily accessible and attainable. He'd have to hide it somewhere unimaginable, and he'd have to do it with Louis not hearing or seeing a thing.
The fry-pan finds its way back into Zayn's hands again and he twirls it. Louis seems to catch on, too, because his eyes widen comically, leaning as far as he can in his chair.
Zayn hits him over the head just enough with one swing so that Louis' knocked out cold.
~
Bleary eyed and disorientated, Louis blinks his eyes open.
This time, he's not met with prodding at his side and restrictive limbs. Though, he does still have a throbbing headache.
He uses his new found freedom to touch his head where it hurts, inhaling sharply when his fingers touch the bump on his scalp. He needs to lie down.
"Good, you're awake."
Louis' eyes blink wider. They lock onto Zayn immediately, sitting in a chair directly in front of him, eyes studious as they take in Louis' newly awakened state.
So. It wasn't a nightmare, then.
"Can I, like, lay down somewhere, or—?“
"You're taking me to see the lights—uh, lanterns. Remember?"
How could he forget? "Yeah, and I will. But isn't it, like, midnight by now?"
Zayn only shrugs.
"God." Louis whispers under his breath. He leans forwards in the chair, places his elbows on his knees and slides his palms down his face. His head is pounding, his side aches and he's so exhausted. "Do you even have a clock?"
Zayn shakes his head.
Of course he doesn't. Strange boy living by himself in an ancient yet modern building sat in the middle of nowhere, doesn't have a clock. Because who needs to keep track of time when you're not a functioning member of society?
"Right." Louis replies. "I suppose you're itching to go, then?"
Zayn nods his head once, stern and determined. Louis catches him nodding again as he gets up from his chair, but he thinks that one is for himself.
"I'll press the button, you leave the tower and I'll, uh, climb out the window."
He seems nervous, Louis notices. He's fiddling with his fingers and not making any eye contact whatsoever. Louis' so caught up in Zayn that it takes a second or two before the words register.
"Erm, come again?" Louis asks. He really needs to lie down. "Why on earth would you rather climb out a window than leave through the front door?"
Zayn picks his head up and looks at Louis. His jaw tenses slightly. "The one button is the only way to open the door. The door closes within three seconds automatically."
When Louis can only stare at him, Zayn heaves out a sigh and walks out of the room. Louis blinks, then figures he should follow him.
Standing up, Louis feels beyond dizzy. He finds his feet, though, and follows Zayn's own passed the kitchen and down a corridor leading into a single room.
The room is obviously Zayn's bedroom. The ceiling is as high as the one in the main room and there's a king-sized bed that almost fits against the entire width of the wall, a wardrobe that could probably only fit about eight outfits in, a mirror on the far side of the room, and a bedside table with nothing but a lamp and a book that looks centuries old.
And, of course, a tiny window.
Zayn stands by it and waits for Louis to come closer before he opens it. Louis recognises the meadow that it shows from here, and he realises this is the same opening he entered through.
"It's here." Zayn tells him. Louis follows Zayn's finger from where it's pointing just outside the window. And there, placed on the brick of the tower, is a tiny button. He presses it, and the sound of the door opening is heard from down below. As promised, it slams shut after three seconds.
The realisation dawns on him, "Why'd you let me in, then?"
Zayn's eyes widen just enough to be noticed. He dips his head a little, colour spreading on his cheeks.
"I..." He rubs the back of his neck, "It was dark. I thought you were someone I knew and I could see that they—uh, you, were hurt."
It's obvious that he's embarrassed. Louis wonders who else lives here with him. He also wonders why on earth someone would set up an entry/exit point like this. But then he's wondering why he's wasting time wondering, since the only way he'll get the crown back is if he takes this weird boy to see the stupid lanterns.
However, he's definitely not letting him leave through a window that's ten-feet off the ground.
"Would you mind if the front door was constantly open?" Louis asks. Zayn frowns in confusion. "Though, I don't think you would have any problems with intruders, to be fair. You're sort of situated in the most isolated area, I think it's about a one in a million coincidence that I even found myself here—“
"What are you getting at?"
Louis twists his mouth. He bites his tongue, too, since telling Zayn it's rude to interrupt might result in another fry-pan to the head.
"We could tape it, right? So it's always pressed down."
It takes exactly two seconds for Zayn's face to brighten in agreement, then another two for him to dash out of the room.
Once out of sight, Louis rushes to the wardrobe and flings it open. He looks through the three drawers, the shelf up the top, in a pair of boots. He crosses to the bedside table, rummages through the contents of the drawer.
He's on the floor, searching underneath the bed when Zayn returns.
"You'll never find it." He says, unfazed. It makes Louis jump, resulting in his head hitting the wooden bed frame.
"Fuckin' bastard," Louis spits out at the frame. He rolls out from his position and rubs at his head. With whatever brain cells are left, he realises Zayn went to fetch a roll of duct tape.
"Would this work?"
"Yeah," Louis says, getting up from the floor, rubbing his head. He crosses the room and holds out his hand, "Here, let me."
Zayn passes it over. Louis ignores the pair of scissors in Zayn's other hand and rips a bit of tape with his teeth instead, earning a frown from the set of eyes watching him. Then he places it over the outward button, sure enough opening the door below.
He hears Zayn let out a breath.
"Okay," He says. And with a little more meaning, "Okay."
Louis turns to him. He's bouncing on his toes slightly, as though he's gearing himself up. The palms of his hands pressing together then pulling apart just as quickly as though he were clapping without sound, and his eyes have widened.
Louis doesn't know what to do, so he steps towards him hesitantly, "Are you, uh, sure you want to do this, mate?"
"Yes." Comes the immediate answer. And then, as though too much thought to it will change his mind, Zayn turns and leaves the bedroom once again.
Louis remains in his spot, until he shrugs, and follows him.
"You'll take me to the lanterns." Zayn orders, not stopping—not even looking at Louis—as he makes his way through the same door Louis entered in. "And you'll bring me back here immediately afterwards. Then you will get your jewellery."
"It's a—“ Louis stops himself, realising that Zayn couldn't care less about what's in the satchel. "You know," He adds as they climb into the elevator, "this whole ordeal sounds a lot like you're an escort and I'm a rich old man, doesn't it?"
Zayn just looks at him with a blank expression in response. He doesn't know what else he was expecting.
~
So, here he is. Standing at the doorway, feet just about touching the spiky grass he's looked at for almost nineteen years of his life. And he's frozen to the spot.
He concentrates on his breathing. It's fine, he tells himself. The grass is what Louis walked on to get to the tower, it's what his mother travels through almost every day.
He looks at it, looks at his feet, looks at the border of trees and... It all looks so different from here. Although all he can see is from the sparse light from the stars, it's enough for Zayn to stand still and take it in.
This might be the only time he gets to do this.
"It's alright, mate." Louis says from beside him, not stepping off the wooden floor, either. "It's safe."
Zayn takes to gnawing at his lip. He looks at Louis, and he catches something that looks like concern flash in his eyes before it's quickly disguised by a smile.
"Look." He says with a few wags of his brows before taking a dramatic leap onto the grass. He straightens with a faux-gasp and Zayn watches him with his arms crossed. "I'm still alive!"
Louis then proceeds to do a dance that involves him almost frolicking around, arms swaying and feet bouncing off the ground, whilst whistling something obnoxiously. Then he stops, drops to the ground, and pretends like it's the most comfortable thing on earth.
If he's like most of the people that live out there, Zayn thinks he wouldn't mind being locked in a tower for another twenty years.
He sighs, walks through the grass and over towards Louis who's now attempting at a snow angel, and steps over him, making him stop.
Zayn walks ahead, towards the curtain of leaves that he sees his mother walk through all the time, and figures it's the only way out. It must be right, since Louis doesn't try and redirect him, just follows with the same whistling tune he had before.
It should make him uneasy, seeing him this happy. It's like Louis is glad he has to take Zayn on this trek and he shouldn't be. Maybe Louis wasn't joking, maybe he really is a kidnapper and this was his plan all along. Maybe Zayn's been tricked into the easiest scheme ever.
It should make him uneasy, but as he looks at Louis—clapping his hands idly and completely barefoot—the anxiousness he feels doesn't get any worse.
Louis catches his eye and must feel his hesitation, though, because his whistles and movements stop altogether and his brows pinch together slightly. "Are you positive you want to do this?"
"No." Zayn admits—half to himself, half to Louis—and inhales sharply. "But I know I have to."
"Alright." Louis replies easily, hands fitting inside the front pockets of his jeans. "Can I ask why you'd have any reason to feel like you shouldn't?"
It's a big question. It's only one but it holds the answer to a lot of them that Zayn's sure Louis has. He couldn't tell him even if he wanted to, is the thing.
He's not about to reveal that he's been denied the liberty to venture out into the world, and the only things he's ever experienced have been in the same four rooms of the tower, and the only real knowledge he has about the world is from what he can see from out his window.
And, of course, this is all because his mother's expressed many times that the outside is a dangerous and cruel place filled with people with bad intentions and those who want to drain Zayn from his magic.
No, he's definitely not about to unveil any of that to Louis any time soon.
"No, you can't." Zayn answers, almost feeling bad.
But Louis takes it on his chin, turns his mouth downwards as he shrugs one shoulder and says, "Fair play." Before he pulls back the leaf curtain and presents a valley of pure darkness leading out to a small vicinity of what Zayn can make out as greenery.
Zayn's heart starts to pound.
He looks back. The tower seems so, so far away. The door is wide open and he can see his window from here. It really does look huge, the whole building.
He turns to Louis, who's watching him with close eyes. "You lead, I'll follow."
Louis' eyes trail down to where Zayn's gripping onto the fry-pan with both hands tightly. He loosens them as soon as he notices, and tries to unwind a little.
"Uh, here." Louis says as he steps foot into the sheltered walk-way, half his body disappearing in shadows. Zayn realises Louis' hand is sitting in the air, waiting between them, urging Zayn to follow.
Zayn closes his eyes for a few seconds, opens them and steps into the darkness, too.
Louis drops his neglected hand after a few seconds and clears his throat. "Just follow me, I'll lead you to the city."
And then they're walking.
~
The way Louis knows is around the most outskirts of the town.
He's got the entire police force on his tail, Harry and Niall who surely want to kill him right now, as well as that young cop—Liam, was it?—who wouldn't hesitate to shoot on target this time round.
Though, Zayn doesn't need to know that.
"It's very green, lots of foliage and, like, dirt footpaths." Louis starts explaining falsely. He's not entirely sure why, but he's never been good with silences. "The only form of civilisation, really, is the palace itself."
He watches Zayn, who only nods as he looks around, probably trying to take it all in. Louis doesn't know if Zayn knows he's lying. He's not sure how much Zayn knows of the world, if he's researched it, if he's aware of how advanced it actually is... Especially compared to the old-style tower he's living in.
"So," Louis starts up again, since he's still only met with silence, "If we can't talk about your life, what can we talk about?"
He watches as Zayn's mouth twists uncomfortably. He looks at Louis in a side-eye glance. For a moment, Louis thinks he'll just look away again and let a new-found awkwardness fall between them.
But then he hears Zayn take in a breath, "I don't... I don't know if I..."
He trails off, stops in his tracks. Louis realises he's having second thoughts.
"You don't know if you want to do this?" Louis asks him. Zayn swallows harshly, then gives a minuscule nod. Louis looks back the way they came. They've probably been walking for twenty minutes, half an hour. They could turn back now, Zayn can go home, Louis can get his crown and he can get out before he finds himself trapped in some other extremely weird deal. So, Louis puts on his best sad-face, slings an arm around Zayn's skinny frame (to which Zayn flinches) and sighs. "That's perfectly alright, Zayner. The world's a big, scary place. If I had the choice to live in isolation, trust me, I would. We can turn back now, if you want, and I can get my crown and we can go back to our lives like nothing ever—“
"No." Zayn interrupts softly. "You're taking me to the lanterns."
Louis deflates. He scrunches his face up in a way that Zayn can't see. But, he gets an idea.
"That's a lad! Onwards and upwards!" He steps away from Zayn, but remains close. "But, the trek to where you want to go is quite far and I'm not sure if you have the stamina for it."
"I can go back and get some—?”
"Too late for that now!" Louis reassures, placing a hand on Zayn's back. He tenses under the touch. "Come, I'll show you my favourite place to eat."
But Zayn looks at him skeptically, "At this late at night?"
"The thing with pubs, babe, is that the later the better."
It's filled with criminals and backed into the shadiest part of town, which is why he knows police don't dare come close, since they'd be eaten alive. Literally.
He figures that if Zayn's already second-guessing this, the pub they're about to enter will surely make him scream and run back home. It's a perfect plan.
Louis swings open the door and is immediately met with tables of guys looking at them. He hears Zayn gasp behind him, and Louis smirks.
"C'mon," Louis cocks his head inside. Zayn's eyes are blown wide. "C'mon, this is the safest place I know!"
They enter, Louis leading the way and Zayn following hesitantly behind, fry-pan gripped for dear life.
"They look scary." Zayn whispers as every burly man in the place stares them down.
Some have muscles big enough that they could squeeze Louis and Zayn with one hand each. Some even have knives strapped to their belts. Deep gashes on their faces, dried blood on their knuckles, some sitting with suits on and a smoky cigar looking like the most powerful people in the world.
Louis would be lying if he said he wasn't absolutely shaking in his boots, too.
They finally make it to the bar, and that's when Louis realises this is the worst mistake he's made in his life, by far.
"You're Louis Tomlinson." The bartender says, or, more-so, growls.
“I—I'm not." Louis replies instantly, clearing his throat. Zayn looks at him, quick with fear and confusion. "Not sure where you got that from, but—“
A quick, dark look from the bartender tells Louis he should shut up immediately, "Are you telling me, that this," He's presented with a phone in his face, a news article on the screen, showing him his own candid face with the caption: Serial criminal Louis Tomlinson. If found, please contact police immediately. Large reward promised. "Isn't you?"
"Ah," Louis chokes out. He can feel the room becoming smaller, can feel eyes on his back, can see out of the corner of his eye someone standing and leering towards him.
"Louis." Zayn whispers harshly, warning.
"See that, right there, is actually my stupid brother."
"Lou-eh." Zayn whispers, louder, annunciation more prominent.
"But, uh," Louis throws on a smile, begins to back away from the bar, "You know, I'm not really, uh… we might go—“
He bumps into something. It's most definitely one of the burly guys. He turns, finding a man twice his size in every way possible. He quickly chances a look at Zayn, who looks like he's about to faint at any second.
“You’re the criminal everyone’s talking about.” He says, almost bearing his teeth. “You stole the Prince’s crown.”
“Ay! We get big money if we hand him in, right?” Another one yells from across the bar. Louis feels his stomach fall to his feet.
“But, h—hey, if you hand me in, the police will notice you, too. Yeah? Criminals aren’t welcome in those parts.” Louis attempts, thinking quickly. His own voice sounding the least masculine it’s ever sounded. He might be shaking, too, he’s not really sure.
“He’s right.” Zayn says, strangely confident. Louis doesn’t chance another look at him, instead lets his eyes roam around the room, searching for a way out. “They’ll have your faces memorised. Instead of a prize, you might get caught.”
The bar simmers to low whispers, some nodding in consideration, some turning away out of disinterest now and others still looking at the two of them with distaste. The guy that Louis bumped into is doing the latter.
“And who the fuck are you?” He cocks his head at Zayn, who’s still trying to make it seem like he’s not petrified. “Are you a criminal?”
Zayn shakes his head. “No.”
“Then why aren’t you handing him in and getting the money?”
A collective round of “yeah”’s and “what’s that about?”’s are heard throughout the bar. This time, Louis does look at him, and Zayn’s looking back.
He shrugs. “Don’t care, really. He’s taking me to see the lanterns tomorrow night, so.”
It’s said like it’s supposed to justify his actions—his nonchalance of getting mountains of money to a pack of cash-thirsty criminals —and Louis winces. He thinks one of two things will happen. One, they’ll all start laughing, thinking it’s a complete joke and that Zayn actually has an ulterior motive, like he helped Louis steal it. Two, they’ll assume that it’s a date, or something, and proceed to “bash the gay out” of them, as it was so kindly put the last time it happened.
Either way, they’re fucked. And a fry-pan can only do so much.
“The lanterns!” A deep voice comes from the back of the room and Louis waits for the collective cackle or the first hit to the jaw. What he doesn’t expect, though, is a sigh from the same person. “I loved them as a kid. I can’t watch them closely anymore, ever since I got banned from that damn place.”
“My family always used to take me, every year.” The bartender chips in, drying one of the glasses. “They’re so amazing up close.”
Louis doesn’t even have time to process the turn of events, because suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits the room and it’s story-time.
“My favourite part is when they’ve all been released and the sky is just full of them, lighting up and floating above your head.”
“One year I actually got to hold one. Best year of my life, probably.”
Then the chatter escalates and there’s laughter and drinks cheering and Louis feels more fear in himself now than when he was confronted. He looks at Zayn, who’s now observing the room with a small smile on his lips and his arms crossed.
A smaller man in a suit comes over to the two of them. He’s scrawnier than the rest, and a little old from what Louis can tell. He’s looking at Zayn before he talks to him, and Louis really doesn’t know how to act right now.
“You’ll love it, mate.” He taps Zayn’s shoulder lightly with his fist and Zayn gives him a nod before Louis is acknowledged. The old man looks at him a lot more stern than how he looked at Zayn. “Now, you. Be stealthy out there, alright? You’ve got a lot of balls going back there after stealing something like that.”
Louis swallows and tries to find his voice. “I will.”
The man seems like he’s satisfied with Louis’ answer, and opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s interrupted by the sounds of tires against gravel outside, and a loud shout of, “It’s the police!”
“Fuck.” Louis breathes.
“Lou,” Zayn says beside him, fear present with the way he’s gripping his weapon again, “What's going on?”
Louis searches rapidly, looking for a back entrance, a window, a bathroom. But he realises the pub would be heavily surrounded by cops, realises Liam would have reported back to the force and now this place will be searched leaf by leaf. No bathroom or window could help them now.
“Come with me.” The burly one Louis bumped into says simply. Louis and Zayn share a glance. They both shrug and follow mindlessly, since they don’t really have any other choice, and that’s when the door opens.
“We’re looking for Louis Tomlinson.” The policeman says, loud enough for the whole bar to hear.
Louis doesn’t chance a look behind him. He knows the criminals are blocking the policeman’s view of him, but any wrong eye on his face could end them.
“This leads out to the dam.” Burly-guy says, pointing to a trap-door.
“Dam?” Zayn asks.
“Let’s go.” Louis says, opening up the trap-door that reveals a long, long hallway with minimum to none light. He goes in first, knowing that Zayn needs to see that it’s safe.
Zayn lingers a little, but eventually gives Burly a smile and says, “Thank you for this.”
A grin is given in return, “Of course. Us people have to stick together.”
Then they hear a few more cops enter, asking for everyone to give any information and that they’ll search this entire place from head to toe. Louis moves fast, and eventually they’re both back on their feet, underground with steady hearts.
“God,” Louis exhales, feeling like he can finally relax. “That was close.”
Zayn remains silent.
~
Still shaken and a little bit annoyed, he remains by Louis’ side anyway.
“That was close.” Louis says, relieved.
Zayn doesn’t look at him. Instead, he keeps his head down and continues to walk a little bit in front. He’s still scared, still unsure of what’s down this dim-lit hallway and what it leads to. He wishes it was bright enough, open enough so he could charge ahead, leave Louis behind for a little bit. Maybe leave him behind altogether and find someone else that will direct him to where he needs to go.
His anger must be blatantly obvious, because Louis stops in his tracks mid-step, and Zayn can literally hear him think.
“Hang on,” He says, confusion in his voice, “Are you mad?”
Zayn can’t help but let out a small laugh with a shake of his head. Really?
He hears Louis quicken his strides and he falls in step with Zayn, looking hard at his profile.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Zayn breathes in and out in one quick movement, then stops. He looks at Louis dead-on, “Are you serious? You trick me into going into some place for food, telling me that this is the safest place you know, and then almost gets us killed because apparently you’re the most wanted criminal that everyone’s searching for?”
Louis scrunches his face up, caught guilty. He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, yeah, I may have fucked up on that part, but—”
“You took me somewhere that you knew would scare me.”
Louis sighs. “I did. I did... I—look, I’m sorry. It was a dick move.” They continue walking, slower this time. Zayn starts to bite the inside of his cheek, the tension growing. Then Louis’ bumping into Zayn’s arm playfully with a smile, asking, “Did it work, then?”
Zayn hates how it makes his lips quirk up a little, “I think you were more scared than me, actually.”
Louis lets out a laugh, “No shit! How was I to know they’d wanna kill me on the spot?” Zayn looks down at his feet, noticing how close they’ve gotten. “Besides, you’re the one with the deadly weapon.”
A loud crash is heard through the tunnel. It makes the dirt above them crack and fall. It sounds like a few pairs of feet running. Zayn stops breathing and Louis’ eyes widen with alarm.
“We need to run.” Louis warns, grabbing Zayn’s wrist without warning.
Zayn concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, running as fast as he’s ever run in his life. And that’s not an exaggeration, he can’t remember the last time he’s had to run. Maybe when he was a child with too much energy? He’s not sure but he’s definitely certain that Louis’ an athlete because right now Zayn’s being dragged while he sprints like he’s flying.
“Louis! You’re going too fast!” Zayn shouts, sure he’s about to trip any second.
“C’mon, Zayn! We gotta get out of here!” Louis shouts back, not bothering to turn and face him.
Zayn’s led through the tunnel until they reach a corner. Thankfully, once they turn it a light is shown not too far away, leading out to what looks like an opening. Zayn picks up his speed, not focusing on anything else but getting out. Louis runs easily, breath not picking up in the slightest, as though he were merely walking.
They finally reach the opening but they don’t stop, there’s no door to block the exit. But then Zayn realises that’s not the only reason why they’ve stopped.
“Are you fucking serious?” Louis mutters under his breath.
They’re outside, on a rock that’s about thirty feet from the ground. Zayn steps closer to the ledge. There’s a ladder leading down to the bottom, a blocked off dam filled with water on the side, and a cave on the other side. Zayn thinks that’s their best bet.
Until two men rush out from under them—one tall and with short brown hair, dressed in a floral shirt and dark pants, the other with brown hair also with a white tee and jeans—both looking extremely angry.
“Shit.” Louis whines, grip on Zayn’s wrist tightening.
“Who are they?” Zayn asks.
“Uh,” Louis’ face scrunches up, “They don’t like me.”
At that, a bunch of people all in the same clothing as each other stumble out of the tunnel they just came through.
“And I’m guessing...”
“Yep,” Louis replies, backing away from them, “They definitely don’t like me, either.”
From the uniformed group, one boy breaks through wearing something different. “You’re mine, Tomlinson.”
Zayn feels his eyes go wide, “Who’s that?”
Louis sighs quickly in frustration, “Let’s just assume for the moment that everyone here doesn’t like me.”
Zayn nods, “You might need this, then.”
He presses the fry-pan to Louis’ hands, and Louis grabs it without hesitation. Zayn then leaves him to his own devices, making a run for it. Because if everyone here hates him, that must be Louis’ own wrong-doing, and Zayn’s not having any part of that.
So, he quickly shoots down the ladder that’s in-built into the rock, hearing Louis fight off people with the fry-pan.
The ladder feels slippery underneath his own hands, realising that’s how sweaty his palms have become.
“You should know,” Louis shouts over the noise of the fry-pan hitting bodies and other metals, “That this is the strangest thing I have ever done!”
Zayn doesn’t know if he’s talking to him, but he continues sliding down anyway. It’s when he reaches the bottom, though, that he sees the two men waiting for him.
“Who are you?” The blue-eyed one says, pure curiosity in his tone.
The taller one runs a hand through his hair, eyes looking at Zayn inquisitively.
Zayn frowns at them, “Who are you?”
“I’m Harry.” Tall one says with a big smile, hand out stretched to Zayn.
It gets slapped away by the other one. “He’s with Louis.”
“And this is Niall,” Harry says, throwing an arm around his friend, completely unfazed by Niall’s piece of information.
They’re all interrupted by the sounds of gunshots. The three of them duck immediately. Zayn’s heart almost stops, whipping his head back to see any sign of Louis at all. He can’t see anything from where he is.
What he does see, though, is holes in the from of gun shots pierced right through the wood barrier holding in the dam. Streams of water flow through them speedily and Zayn sees the pillars struggling against the sudden motion.
When another gun shot is heard, ricocheting off something metal—undeniably the fry-pan, therefore showing signs of Louis’ life—the three of them down below all heave a sigh of relief.
“Uh, Zayn?!” Louis yells from above the cliff, “Could use a bit of help up here!”
Zayn tries to think fast as a few more gunshots are heard and fly directly into the dam’s barrier again. It’s being pushed to its limits, Zayn can tell, and there’s only so much time before the whole thing bursts and this place fills with water.
He sees a large plank of wood lent up against the bit of rock, opposite the one Louis’ stood on. Two more gunshots, both hitting the fry-pan.
Zayn works fast. He runs over to the wood and pulls it away from the wall. But it’s far too long and heavy, Zayn straining to manipulate it in any way. Harry and Niall watch, both hesitating. It’s not until they hear a scream coming from above, and see Louis backed up to the edge of the cliff, foot slipping and rocks crumbling, when they rush to help him.
They manage to pull the plank of wood off one rock and onto the other, right where Louis’ foot slipped.
Zayn looks down at his own feet, now wet with water as it puddles around them. “Slide down!” Zayn shouts, before looking for the nearest exit.
Louis doesn’t think twice, He shuffles down the plank of wood, a very furious and out-of-bullets man that Zayn recognises as the one not in uniform following him.
Zayn hears a dull creak, and watches as the wood keeping in water looks as though it’s now seconds from breaking. He holds out his hand, willing for Louis to hurry up.
“Fuck!” Louis yells, being sure not to fall as his balance almost gives way. The fry-pan drops from his hands and Zayn manages to save it. He promptly puts it into his backpack, knowing they’ll have to move fast.
“Catch him!” Niall orders Harry, and they both run towards him.
Louis ends up jumping off, away from the two, and Zayn quickly follows him. Louis’ stopped, regaining himself but Zayn realises there’s no time for that. He runs passed, grabbing Louis’ wrist as he does so, and yanks him to the nearest exit that he can see.
Halfway there, he hears a loud snapping sound. And then the gush of water.
“Through here!” Louis shouts, as though that isn’t where Zayn’s already leading them.
They make it to the exit and they keep running when they feel water up to their knees. It isn’t until Zayn feels more rock that they stop. The water laps up to their waist now, rising higher and higher. Louis’ wrist falls from Zayn’s grip and they both search for where to go.
That’s when Zayn realises it isn’t an exit, but a dead-end.
“No.” Zayn shakes his head, ready to swim to leave but the water level has already blocked the way they came in, through the tunnel. It’s high enough that Zayn feels himself floating. He lifts his arm up, fingertips just touching the ceiling. “No.”
He dives down into the water, eager on swimming out. But he feels a hand tug on his shirt, pulling him back up to the surface. “There’s no point.” Louis tells him earnestly, “You won’t be able to see anything. It’s pitch black.”
“Bullshit.” Zayn bites back, shrugging Louis’ hand off his shirt. “I gotta try.”
He dips below the water again, but Louis’ right. The way they walked in was as thick as a house’s hallway, as extensive as one, too. He could swim for ages but it’d be going against the flow of the water and he’d be completely blind.
The realisation hits him. They’re going to die.
He swims above the water, watching the water level float up and up.
He feels his chest constrict, his eyes tearing. He looks at Louis, all content and ready, as though he knew this was coming.
“I’m so, so sorry.” Zayn chokes out, making Louis look at him in surprise, “I shouldn’t have dragged you to come with me, I shouldn’t have even left, I—”
“Hey, hey,” Louis says softly. How is he so calm? “We’re both at fault here, yeah? I shouldn’t have led you into that pub…” He shakes his head at himself. Then he nudges Zayn’s arm with his elbow, trying to cheer him up. “Just sucks we don’t have superpowers, eh?”
His lips turn up into a smirk and Zayn can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I do. Sorta.”
“Oh, yeah?” Louis says, as though he’s playing along. Their heads bump into the ceiling as the water rises. It’s the first time Zayn catches the fear in Louis’ eyes. “What superpower would that be?”
“I can shoot gold that glows through my fingertips.” Zayn says matter-of-factly.
Louis’ head jerks back, eyebrows pinched as he looks at Zayn oddly. “That’s, uh, an interesting one. Personally, I’d go for invincibility, but…”
Louis keeps talking as the water touches Zayn’s chin but something clicks in Zayn’s mind all at once. He gasps with realisation. He can shoot gold that glows, for god’s sake.
Tilting his head so his mouth is still breathing, he hums the familiar tune. The one that he had to sing almost every day for his whole life. He only gets half-way through the song before he’s completely underwater but as expected, his gold, glowing liquid from his fingertips shine through the water, letting them see.
He sees Louis’ entire body fly back as he swears, eyes shooting open at the sight.
Zayn doesn’t waste any time. He tugs on Louis’ shirt and shines the light ahead of them, making it easy to swim out of the tunnel and to the surface.
~
They flop out of the water like fish, Zayn gasping for air as he climbs up the side of the riverbank. Louis, himself, is on a whole other level of pure shock.
So, one second he thought he was going to die. Accepted it, really. The next, he’s witnessing the weird boy from the tower shoot glowing gold from his very own fingertips.
Gold. That glows.
He breathes heavily from where he’s resting on the grass, legs still in the water. He doesn’t—can’t even begin to fathom what just happened.
And here’s Zayn now, just ridding the water from his clothes and shoes as though nothing out of the ordinary happened. As though having superpowers is completely normal. As though his fingertips aren’t fucking magic.
“You—you…” Louis pants, unable to even string a coherent sentence together. It doesn’t matter, though, because Zayn’s acting like Louis isn’t even there. “Wait a minute. Am I dead? Are we dead?”
Because it’s possible. In the last few seconds of life that he had, his mind could have twisted reality into a dream-like scenario where they actually live. Where they get out of an impossible situation in the weirdest way. Maybe Zayn’s last words were the prompt to a hallucination and they’re in limbo right now.
But then he hears Zayn snort and sees him shake his head. “No. We’re very much alive. And wet.”
Louis hauls himself up on the grass a bit more. He still feels alive. So.
Zayn shakes out his hair. He takes off his socks and twist them so the water drips out.
Finally standing up, Louis feels light-headed. Could be because of the many near-death experiences he’s gone through tonight. Or the fact that he hasn’t eaten or slept in over twelve hours. Or, you know, he just saw fingertips shoot out glowing gold like some weird Spider-Man-thing, right in front of him.
He definitely feels as though it’s the latter.
“That... That definitely just—”
“Yep.” Zayn tells him. “It did.”
“You saved us.”
Zayn looks up from where he’s putting his socks and shoes back on. His mouth slowly tilts upwards, eyes soft.
“You did.” Louis certifies, running his hands through his own wet hair. “Fuck.”
Zayn sniffs, “We should find somewhere to sleep, don’t you think?”
“Give me some time to compose myself, will you?” Louis asks, bracing his hands on his knees. He breathes in slowly, then out just as slow. He feels Zayn watching him. To think that stealing the Prince’s crown this afternoon would lead him here. “Jesus Christ.”
“Are you done?” Zayn asks.
“Yeah.” Louis decides, standing upright. “I’m done.”
~
They stumble upon a small clearing, one that has two logs next to each other, perfect to sit on. Louis sits on one immediately, sighing out in relief, finally getting to sit.
Zayn couldn't lie to himself, he was feeling exhausted. It'd been a long, busy day. He's sad that they're not already at the Palace and that he's not somewhere that other people can keep an eye on him. But for some reason he doesn't feel scared that he's alone in the woods with an almost-stranger. Isn't worried that as soon as he sleeps, Louis could run off and leave Zayn deserted, or worse.
He's not sure why, but he trusts him.
He takes a seat next to Louis on the log, and looks at him. Louis' got his eyes closed, face tilted up towards the stars. His shirt's ripped in more ways than one and his jeans look so dirty Zayn doesn't think there's any way of fixing them. There's also dried blood in different spots all over his body, and a new gash with fresh blood on the palm of his hand.
"You're bleeding." Zayn points out.
Louis opens one eye, first, looking at Zayn with a frown. Then he opens the other and tilts his head as he inspects his hand.
"Hm, look at that." Louis says, "Add that to my list of injuries, won't I?"
Zayn shifts so he's facing Louis more, and holds out his own hand. "Here."
Louis glances at Zayn's hand, then at Zayn's eyes, then back again. It's like he's unsure whether Zayn's serious or not. Then he places his own hand in Zayn's and Zayn can hear him inhale ever so softly.
Zayn raises his other hand, fingertips dancing over the gash as he hums the special tune. On cue, the gold light shines from his fingers and onto the wound, making it heal up and fix the skin almost immediately.
When Zayn's happy with it, he looks at Louis and almost laughs at the expression he's met with. Gaped mouth with a jaw almost hitting the ground and eyes as wide as dinner plates.
It's only when Zayn stops holding his hand, that he comes back to reality.
Louis shakes his head, "Whoa." He breathes, shaking his head once more. He looks at Zayn's eyes, his own replicating something like wonder, and something else Zayn can't describe. "What are you?"
Zayn swallows. He fidgets in his position and can't help the frown that forms on his face. He's always known that he's been different, always known that his life isn't normal in the slightest, even when he's been separated from normal, he's known. But it's something he hasn't been prepared for—the day he exposes himself to someone and they react to it.
"No, I mean—I didn't..." Louis stutters out, eyes squeezed shut, "That wasn't meant to sound hurtful, in any way. I'm really amazed. That was... Fucking incredible."
Zayn picks up the honesty in his words, in the way he looks at him. It makes Zayn dip his head a little and he can feel his cheeks warm slightly even though the night’s cold. Which reminds him,
"Should we, uh, get a fire going, or—“
"Oh! Yeah," Louis responds, standing up suddenly as though he was broken from some kind of trance, "Yeah, I'll grab some firewood."
~
He not only can shoot gold from his fingers like some sort of magician, but he can heal things with it. God, no wonder he was so sure Louis was there to kidnap him.
He checks out his hand again. Yep, it's definitely healed and looking perfect. Amazing.
It makes him wonder why Zayn didn't just do that to cure the gash on his abdomen. Maybe he didn't think Louis would be worth such a good job, wasn't important enough. Does that mean he's changed his mind on Louis, now?
He shakes his head. He's only keeping him alive, and healthy, so Louis doesn't drop dead and abandon him.
Louis adds a thick block of wood to the pile under his arm. He's already got a few sticks and there's some grass that's dry enough back where they're sitting.
He turns back to Zayn, concentrating on holding everything with his, admittedly, not-so-big arms.
He wonders if Zayn thinks he's a little bit pathetic, compared to Liam and Harry and Niall, and all the police as well as all the criminals in the bar. Louis scoffs to himself, of course he thinks that.
Zayn has one dream, and he just so happened to stumble on possibly the worst person to escort him.
Fuck, Louis scolds to himself, Why do you care?
"Hey," Louis calls once he goes back to their spot, "Your fingertips don't happen to start fires, too, do they?"
When he doesn't get a response, Louis looks up at him. Zayn's standing, facing away from him and looking towards the woods. His body looks tense, scared.
Louis drops the firewood immediately and rushes over to him, "Zayn, what happened?"
Zayn blinks twice before he looks at him. "I think I... Think I saw a wolf, or something."
"Ah," Louis says, relief filling him more than he'd like to admit. He pats Zayn on the shoulder, and this time, Zayn doesn't flinch or tense up from it. "Not to worry, mate, wolves don't really stroll around these parts. Though, wouldn't be the worst thing. I'm starving."
Zayn's eyes widen, "You eat wolf?"
Louis laughs, a big belly-laugh that even surprises himself, "No, of course not."
The relief on Zayn's face turns into a small smile at the joke. Louis counts it as a win.
Louis shuffles the firewood to a place somewhere in between the two logs. Zayn sits down on one and watches as Louis works.
Having to live from job to job, it's lucky Louis' picked up a few handy tips along the way. It's lucky, because he manages to get the fire up and running in no time and if he wasn't confident, he would've looked like such an incompetent fool in front of Zayn.
And, God, Louis wants to stab himself. Why the fuck do you care?
"So," Zayn begins as Louis sits on the other log. Zayn looks at the fire but his face is tilted towards Louis', questioning.
"So." Louis repeats.
"Why do all those people hate you?"
Louis lets out a small laugh. He twists his mouth a little as he picks up a stick long enough so that he can prod at the fire from where he's sitting. "That's a, uh, fairly intrusive question coming from someone who won't tell me anything about their life."
He expects Zayn to be taken aback, to retreat back into his shell. Instead, he leans forward so his elbow is resting on his knee, his chin in his hand, and blinks once at him.
"You now know I shoot gold shit from my fingertips that glow in the dark and heal human flesh." He says simply, face dead-pan. "Now spill."
Louis stills. He finds it hard to not burst out in laughter. He's tired and probably verging on hysterical at this point—could anyone blame him?
He lets out a breath, raising his brows as he does so, "Well, you've got me there." He clears his throat. "Erm... Let's see." He tries to fit his thoughts in order, tries to find a way to say it without making it seem like he isn't a total dropkick who does what he does because he doesn't have an education, or any working experience in the slightest. But then he realises, on a whim, that he couldn't give a shit how it sounds. "I steal from people, Zayn, and then I sell it to other people that give me enough money to last me until my next theft. And, you know, living like that you're gonna get a name for yourself and people that hate you along the way, so."
He shrugs, his eyes never leaving the fire. He prods at it as an afterthought, not wanting to meet Zayn's eyes.
"Why do you do it?"
It's said so softly. An almost-whisper that's said apologetically. And, fuck, he didn't ask for sympathy.
"I just do, yeah?" Louis replies, prodding a little harder. "And I'm bloody good at it."
"It'll get you killed."
Louis laughs in his throat, sits back a little on the log, cocks his head to the side, "Yeah, it might. Almost did, didn't it?"
The silence that follows builds between them. Louis swallows harshly. He chances a look to Zayn. What he finds is a downcast of lashes, his mouth twisted uncomfortably, a frown forming.
Then he looks up, and the shine of his eyes makes Louis' breath hitch. He looks away immediately.
"Don't you care?"
Louis takes a second to digest the question. Care about what? The people he's stealing from? The frustration he puts authorities through to catch him? The amount of people that hate him? Of course he cares. But it's Zayn's tone of voice, the delicate way he phrases it, the emphasis on the last word as though it were a personal insult that makes it sound like he means something else entirely. And then Louis understands.
Don't you care that you'll die?
Louis scoffs, "Not at all. Nobody would if I did, would they? Why should I?"
It'd be rejoiced, when it happens. The police, the royal family, the civilians and the like will have a party. They'd probably release fucking lanterns the night it happens, put it on the calendars as the day the town's menace was finally put to rest.
It's the late-night brain talking, Louis knows. It's the depressed thoughts that come now and then—usually when he's alone and sitting in an alleyway because he hasn't made a sale in enough time. But he knows that when he wakes up and he's at it again, he'll be twice as fast and twice as great because his pride's too large to let them win.
But today, as he's realised the amount of people out to get him, he knows he'll lose soon.
"I'm knackered." Louis says, shifting the mood. Zayn hasn't said a word, and this time Louis' too afraid to look at him again.
They lie down next to the logs, besides the fire, and Louis waits until he hears the soft breaths of Zayn's fall into a steady, even rhythm before he closes his eyes.
~
"Get off me you gremlin!"
"You're coming with me, Tomlinson."
Zayn blinks glaringly awake. He finds next to him Louis on the ground, batting away a familiar person that's attempting to drag him by his foot.
"Bullshit I am!" Louis replies, kicking until he's free.
"What the hell?" Zayn manages to say.
The two boys stop what they're doing and whip their heads around to look at Zayn, expressions looking like they got caught doing something they shouldn't.
"Sir, I am obligated to take Louis to the police."
Louis scoffs. "Obligated." He gestures to the man lazily, "What makes you think I'd even come with you? Where's your gun, Liam? You don't even have a bloody badge."
Zayn sits up slowly, back aching a bit from sleeping on bumpy grass. He judges Liam's expression—a sudden realisation mixed with embarrassment, then finally settling on a new-found anger towards Louis.
"Alright," Zayn says, intervening before anything happens, "Liam, is it?"
Liam's flared nostrils relax as he looks at Zayn, then nods. He steps towards him, hand outstretched. "Officer Payne."
Zayn looks at his hand curiously, he figures it's there to help him up, so he takes it and uses it to pull him to his feet. He watches as Louis stifles a laugh. Then Liam's frowning a little before he shakes his hand firmly.
"I'm Zayn." He says, stepping towards him as they drop their hands. He looks at Louis, who's still on the ground, eyeing them both as though he's anticipating what's to come. Zayn turns his attention back to Liam, "I need you to not take him just yet."
Liam blinks. "Uh, with all due respect—“
"It's my birthday." Zayn adds, letting a hand rest softly on Liam's forearm. "And all I want is to go to the palace and watch the lanterns."
Liam's eyes don't stray from Zayn's but it takes him a while to respond, his gaping mouth taking a while to work. "Well, that's, uh, nice."
"Yeah," Zayn agrees, letting his fingertips run up and down Liam's arm slowly, knowing that this make Liam like him better. Or so he’s read. ”And I need Louis to take me. So, could we hold off this whole arrangement until tomorrow?" Zayn makes a show of batting his eyelashes, "I'll even hand him in myself."
"Oh, so I'm just an object or something now, am I?" Louis frowns, standing up to try and make himself more seen. "You can't just palm me off to the next man, I'm a—“
He's promptly shut up by Liam's swift punch to the stomach. Louis keels over with a groan.
"Fine." Liam agrees. "But I'll be the one to take you both there and I also have to keep a close eye the entire time, alright?"
Zayn feels himself smile. He drops the hand on Liam's arm to his side. "Perfect."
"And just how will you take us there, Lee-yum?" Louis mocks from his bent over position. Jesus, Zayn thinks. He's really begging to be kicked when he's down, isn't he? "You're gonna lead the way?"
"I'm gonna drive you there." Liam tells him.
Zayn tries to contain his excitement. Driving? In a car? He's heard about this, the way you can move so fast that you feel the wind in your hair, the sound of the motor when it's running, the cushioned seats and the radio that plays music.
But Louis lets out a laugh. He stands up straight through the pain, and places his hands on his hips, "So you lost everything in the water except for your keys?"
Liam bites the inside of his cheek, "Yeah, do you wanna see 'em?"
Louis throws him a smile, "I'd love to."
To which Liam shoves a hand in the pockets of his jeans—only to bring out his middle finger.
"Wow, mature!" Louis laughs. Zayn rolls his eyes. Liam begins walking. "Look at me, I'm Big Payno, leader of the playground."
Louis keeps mocking behind them as Zayn and Liam walk in front. Zayn tries his hardest to tune him out.
"Ignore him." Zayn says quietly, bumping his hip to Liam's.
At this, Liam cracks a smile, "Can I ask why you chose him to take you?"
Zayn shrugs, "Was the first person I saw."
Liam finds this hilarious, apparently, because his head falls back as he laughs. Zayn doesn't get it, but he smiles anyway.
“You’re so, uh,” Liam laughs quietly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “I don’t mean to sound abrupt, but you’re gorgeous. I mean, you look identical to the King, I swear.”
“Oh?” Zayn quirks a brow, a little taken aback from the compliment. He has no idea what any of the Royals look like, but they must be quite attractive, according to Liam. “Thank you.”
"Have you moved here from somewhere?" Liam asks, "I mean—is that why you haven't seen the lanterns before?"
Zayn sniffs, considers telling him the truth. “Uh—"
"Where is this car, Liam?" Louis complains behind them, thankfully interrupting. "If we're walking forever until the nearest road I think we'd be better off just walking straight to the bloody palace, anyway.”
Liam groans inwardly and Zayn catches him as his jaw tenses. Zayn looks back at Louis, who's looking up at the tall trees surrounding him.
"How about you go on ahead," Zayn tells Liam, "I'll occupy this one."
Liam breathes in steadily, his eyes darting around as he thinks. They settle on Zayn's and says, "Alright, but if I even get the inkling that you're straying—“
"Don't worry about it," Zayn smiles, placing his hand on Liam's shoulder, "We won't go anywhere."
Liam nods once and Zayn slows his steps until he's in line with Louis', who's looking at him in question.
"Why do you want to make this hard for us?" Zayn asks him, voice low and quiet and out of Liam's earshot.
Louis frowns and looks at him, exasperated. "Well, my apologies for not wanting to be 'handed over' as soon as the deal is done."
“Louis—"
"What happened to our deal, then?" Louis asks, his tone a bit hurt. "Did that just go to shit as soon as you saw a guy you liked?"
Zayn's head involuntarily jerks back in question, "What?"
Louis sighs and shakes his head and Zayn doesn't know if that's to him or himself. "Never mind."
He thinks back to last night. He doesn't know why, but he does. He thinks back to Louis becoming closed off, talking about his life but only just. He thinks back to how hearing him talk about himself like that made Zayn's chest hurt in a way he couldn't describe.
Nobody would if I did, would they?
It had made Zayn think. He wanted so badly to say that he would. He would care. And it's scary, knowing that. That if Louis were to die, Zayn would most definitely care. And how is it that he would, but Louis wouldn't?
He realises that Louis doesn't know Zayn even thinks twice about him, from what he's aware.
But Zayn had to be careful. His mother had surprised him last night for a reason. She had the crown—which she had given to him to keep—told Zayn that Louis was only doing what he's doing because of it.
And Zayn hadn't second-guessed it, knew exactly what his mother was saying was true. But he woke up this morning and Louis was still there beside him.
Zayn stops in his tracks and holds out his hand so Louis bumps into it and stops, too. Zayn looks at him with earnest, and it's heartbreaking to see Louis look so sad, like he believes Zayn would throw it all away.
"We still have our deal, yeah?" Zayn tells him, "This was the only way we could get him off our backs for a while."
Louis' face etches into worry, "Zayn, you're way too gullible. Who's to say he's not gonna just driver us straight to the police station? Or an organised ambush?"
Zayn blinks, looks towards Liam who's a few feet away. "Okay... How about, when you see him going off track, we'll knock him out," Zayn says, bringing out the fry-pan from his backpack, "And you can take the wheel."
He smiles, satisfied, and it grows when he sees Louis nod, eyes flashing with mischievousness as he takes the weapon from him.
"But only when it's necessary, alright?" Zayn warns.
"Alright." Louis complies, stringing out the word in a higher-pitch than normal as he flips the fry-pan and catches it in one hand, "I'll obey."
"Good."
~
"Wow," Zayn sighs in amazement, running his hands over the dashboard of the car, "Do you drive it everywhere?"
And Liam just looks so smug. Small smile perched on his lips as though he's not just about bursting at Zayn's wonder. Taking advantage of it, is what he is. He doesn't realise Zayn doesn't know about cars because he's been trapped in a tower, doesn't know that he's amazed by this second-hand, standard vehicle because it's the only one he's ever seen in real life. Doesn't know much about Zayn at all, really, but he's looking at him like he's the best thing he's ever seen.
Louis' stolen many cars in his lifetime, actually. Ones that purr when you bring it to life, ones that go so fast you feel like you're flying, with seats so brand new the smell of them alone is enough to make you feel rich and powerful. He bets Zayn would kill to be in one of those.
"Could we hurry it up, then?" Louis interrupts Liam mid-sentence of some boring explanation about indicators, and Liam almost jumps at Louis' voice, as though he'd completely forgotten about him in the few minutes they got into the car. "Yes, I'm still here."
"Louis," Zayn says, looking at him, "We've got all day."
Liam clears his throat. "We'll get started, then."
Louis at Zayn, then looks out the window, knuckles idly tapping against it slowly. He knows he looks like a stroppy toddler, like he was denied a stop off at McDonald's or something, but it was supposed to be him escorting Zayn. However fucked up that sounds.
"Ready?" Liam says with a smile, hand on the keys in the ignition.
He sees from the corner of his eye, Zayn's own eyes remaining on Louis for a few more seconds, before his head turns back to Liam.
He must nod, because Liam starts the car and the noisiness of it coming to life is louder than Louis had expected, but Zayn seems to think the louder the better because he brightens with astonishment.
"Sick!"
Louis rolls his eyes and slumps further in his chair. He can see Liam's expression in the review mirror and it's everything Louis thought it'd be—a modest smile fighting a bigger one and eyes fighting not to look at Zayn every damn second.
It might be an exaggeration. Louis can admit that much. Liam's probably just happy someone's paying him good attention, maybe. Or that he's actually doing something worthwhile instead of training or letting people down. And Louis might be on a new level of bitter.
The entire car ride has everything to do with Zayn asking lots of questions about the car, the town, a little about Liam's life (although, to be fair, those last questions were purely out of politeness), Liam soaking up every minute and talking animatedly about everything he has the knowledge to. Louis can also admit that he doesn't seem like such a bad guy. He also mentioned a "missus", too. So, there's that.
Louis feels like a bit of a bummer—sitting in the backseat with his eyes constantly on the world outside, not saying a word—but he's making sure Liam's following through completely. And so far, as the palace is merely minutes away, Louis gathers that Liam is.
"It's massive," Zayn gawks, sitting up straighter in his seat, "Who needs that much space?"
Louis splutters out a laugh and Liam does, too. Zayn turns around and looks at both of them.
"What?"
Louis hates the way himself and Liam shrug in unison. But Zayn's obliviousness of his wonderment and the odd question makes Louis' heart go soft in a way that sort of scares him.
They enter the palace in Liam's cop car, completely undercover and completely unsuspecting from the hundreds of guards facing the outside perimeter. Louis still feels beyond nervous, though. He's sure that everyone within this place would have his face etched to the back of their eyelids in hopes that they'd catch him and therefore become millionaires.
"They release the lanterns at seven, usually. So we have time to walk around and that." Liam tells Zayn, finding a car park. "Louis, as long as you keep your head down and stick close to me, you won't be caught."
Louis raises his brows, dissatisfied, "Gotta wait till you hand me in yourself, right. Got it."
Once they park and Liam stops the car, Zayn opens the door eagerly. The sounds of a party atmosphere surrounds them, music mixed with laughter fill the air, it sounds so inviting and exciting that Louis can't wait for Zayn to enter.
They walk into the palace, Zayn leading and taking everything in whilst Louis and Liam linger behind—Liam not straying in fear that Louis will leave, and Louis not daring to make himself seen with the risk of getting caught so high—and he watches as kids run around with streamers or fairy floss, screaming with happiness as their parents watch fondly. Louis gets hit with a wave of nostalgia, remembering the first time he came here with his own family, only very young.
He hasn't been since, really. Never saw the point in it, never understood the hype of it all. Always watched from the street, listened to it in the background. But now, here, as he walks through the palace's courtyard—Zayn suddenly being taken away by a group of kids as they lead him to their artworks on the ground made with chalk—Louis kind of regrets not coming here more often.
Zayn looks up at Louis as he starts to draw his own drawings on the concrete, the group of kids watching on. He looks so happy, smiling at Louis in a somewhat silent thanks, and Louis can't help but smile back just as warmly, his stomach flipping only just.
Liam taps Louis' hip slightly, enough for Louis to break Zayn's eye contact. When he looks at Liam, he's got a smirk on his face, watching Zayn.
"You've got a good one, there." Liam says.
Louis' initial reaction is probably the worst one; "What the fuck are you on about, mate?"
Liam almost laughs, startled, ”I'm talking about Zayn." And then he frowns, looks at Louis with confusion, "Wait, aren't you guys—?”
"No?" Louis replies immediately at the insinuation. He almost looks at Liam with repulsiveness, then he looks at Zayn, who's chuckling gorgeously at something a little girl drew. Louis shakes himself out of it instantly. "No, we're not."
Liam readjusts his stance against where they're both leaning against one of the many stores. "Why not?"
Louis can't help but scoff, "Are you out of your mind? C'mon, Liam. I knew you were dumb, didn't think you'd be this dumb."
Liam cocks his head to the side, face showing sudden disinterest, and then doesn't say anything more.
Louis shifts his weight, looks down at his shoeless feet as his hands press together, flicks his fringe to the side once, and licks over his teeth before sighing louder than expected. "Fine." He says, unknowingly talking, "It's because I'm a criminal, maybe? And Zayn’s…" He stops, shakes his head at himself as he changes his mind. “Actually, you know what? You can shut up."
Louis steps a foot away Liam, who looks nothing short of bewildered as though he'd just been whiplashed.
"What just happened?" Liam asks, more-so to himself.
Louis huffs, arms crossed over his chest. Screw Liam and his train of thought. Screw him for even mentioning something like that and putting it in Louis' head even though he knows he's getting put away on death row as soon as this is over. God, Zayn probably doesn't even know what that is. Doesn't know that even after he returns Zayn back safely and Louis gets the crown, it'll be almost impossible to leave the town without getting captured—however quick Louis may be.
And as he looks at Zayn now—all soft smiles and crinkly eyes—Louis wonders, once again, if that piece of jewellery is even worth it.
~
They spend the day watching people dance and enjoying their time throughout the palace and Zayn can't get enough of it. It's nothing like he thought the world would be. He had created this atmosphere of fear and crime and ugliness in his mind, expanded it to something unliveable in the way his mother had always told him. But to see things like this, nothing but joy and togetherness, Zayn has a glimpse to what he'd be like if he had lived normally.
And if he thinks about leaving the tower forever—well, nobody had to know.
They've bought candy and drinks that fizz on his tongue, they've talked to store owners and friendly passerby's, they've walked and walked until they've gone the whole way round, back to where they've started and Zayn should be tired. He should be ready to go and feeling as though his feet are about to fall off (Liam even bought Louis a brand new pair of shoes, after an argument that started by Liam complaining about smelly feet, and Louis rebutting with a very mature “well, we all can’t be highly-respected members of authority, Officer Payne.”). But the sun's beginning to set and the excitement he feels acts as his own source of caffeine.
It's an hour until he sees the lanterns.
"I can't wait." Zayn tells Louis, "I can't believe I finally get to see it."
"Yeah," Louis replies, voice on the softer side, huskier, "You'll love it."
He smiles that smile that makes Zayn feel like it's only for him. And it's odd, Zayn's noticed, in the way that Louis' acted since they got here.
He's not his usual self. He's less energetic, less bouncy, less snappy. He doesn't chat back Liam with bitterness or bring the attention back on him. He's more quiet, more observant, more soft in the way he looks and speaks and is. It's weird, but it makes Zayn feel a sense of warmth within him all the same.
"Hey," Liam says, stopping the two of them from walking. "Let's go in here for a bit, yeah? I'll buy us a round."
Zayn looks at the store they've stopped in front of. Though, it's not a store. Rather a pub with the title Queen of Hearts.
"Uh," Louis says, louder than he has been in the past few hours, a frown on his face as he looks at Liam, then to Zayn, before settling on Liam again, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Yeah?" Liam says with a half-hearted shrug, "Why wouldn't it be?"
With nothing but Louis fish-mouthing in response, they all walk into the pub, the crowd a lot more friendly than the first one he and Louis entered.
Zayn tells him as much, and Louis laughs, but it comes off a lot more nervous than usual.
One beer down and Zayn has to blink to make sure his eyes settle on Louis steadily. God, he really must be tired.
"Not to be rude, but," Zayn begins, looking at the froth left over in his glass, "This stuff is disgusting."
Liam chuckles as Louis smiles and looks at him with something Zayn would describe as fond. Fond? Zayn shakes his head at himself. Why would he be looking at him like that?
"You've never had beer?"
Zayn picks his head up and looks at Liam. "No."
"Shit, how old are you?"
"Settle, Payno." Louis tells him, rolling his eyes, "He's legal, it's his nineteenth birthday today. Remember?”
He did tell him how old he is, actually. After they swam out from danger and walked along the woods before finding somewhere appropriate to crash. It was the most flippant comment Zayn's ever said, probably.
Zayn finds himself smiling.
“Of course!” Liam gasps, eyes wide, “I completely forgot!”
He didn't think people made it much of a deal, but apparently Liam does, because he's calling another round of drinks.
"Do you really have to do that?" Louis asks Liam, looking at Zayn pointedly again. Maybe he thinks they're disgusting, too.
But this time, instead of the pint of beer, small little glasses come out with liquid that looks like water.
Zayn questions it, but shrugs it off. Maybe this is a weird tradition.
"Happy birthday, Zayn!" Liam grins, picking up a tiny glass before holding it towards him.
Louis says the same, with less enthusiasm, but rests his glass against Liam's. Zayn copies so their glasses are all pressed against each other, then he watches as Liam and Louis knock the bottom of their glass to the table before bringing it to their mouth where they drink the whole thing at once. Zayn blinks.
"Now," Louis begins, looking at him earnestly, "You don't have to do that if you don’t—"
But Zayn's already doing it, and he downs the water in a second. But the water definitely does not taste like water. More like acid that burns on the way down. Zayn scrunches his face up involuntarily in disgust.
“Alright?" Louis cringes.
Zayn opens his eyes, shakes his head as though that'd rid the taste, "That's fucking disgusting."
The darker it gets the louder the music around them seems to get. There's less children out now, probably huddled together just barely keeping their eyes open whilst the childless adults stick to the bar and down the gross drinks like it's nothing. Liam tries to order another round of beers, to which Louis firmly argues against, and Zayn doesn't know how much time passes but he suddenly feels very happy.
Louis' lent up against the bar, facing towards everyone, a sturdy eye not leaving Zayn for longer than a minute. Zayn finds himself laughing at other people, however unfunny they may be, and he also finds himself looking at Louis more often than not.
He remembers using the fry-pan to lift his hair out of his eyes whilst he laid unconscious on the wooden floors. And now he's here, the two of them unable to stray away from each other even though they can, Zayn's heart fluttering every time Louis so much as says his name.
Liam's gone, something about peeing, and Zayn leans right up against the bar, against Louis' side. His profile is so pretty, Zayn thinks.
"Thanks," Louis says, chuckling softly.
Zayn feels his cheeks heat up. So this liquidity stuff makes you talk out loud without realising. Hm.
"Thank you." Zayn insists, hand lazily finding Louis' upper arm from where they're folded tightly across his chest. "For taking me, and everything. I owe you."
This time, Louis laughs openly. He loosens up a little and Zayn's own mouth stretches into a smile.
"You owe me a crown, remember?" Louis tacts on, pointedly.
"Yeah." Zayn says. Because of course Louis' only doing this for the crown. Zayn doesn't need to thank him, they had a deal. Louis can't wait until the lanterns are up in the sky and he can drop Zayn off at the tower, collect what's unrightfully his and then leave for good.
The thought alone makes his stomach fall through the floor. Louis will be gone for good.
"D'ya need to pee or anything?" Liam asks out of nowhere, hands resting firmly on Louis and Zayn's shoulder. "Show's about to start."
"I might go." Zayn says quickly before squeezing through the built-up crowd and entering the quiet toilets. He looks in the mirror for the first time today and sees tired eyes with dishevelled hair and rosy cheeks. His clothes look a mess and he probably smells to everyone else around him, but, he's about to see the lanterns in the sky.
He finishes in the toilet and after splashing his face with a bit of water to freshen up, he enters back into the bar, the noise of people and music blasting in full force. He spots Liam almost straight away, tilting his head back a bit to drink another beer. Zayn thinks he might be superhuman, there's no way people drink that stuff willingly.
As he walks closer, he spots Louis, too.
Strolling up to him, Zayn grins. "Are we ready, then?"
Louis turns around and locks eyes with Zayn's straight away. He almost beams at him, crinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. Zayn wants to hug him.
They walk out of the bar into the warm night, a lot warmer than it was last night, and the sky's gotten significantly darker. It's a completely cloudless sky which makes the stars look a lot more brighter than they have been. He can't believe his mother told him the lanterns were stars.
~
Louis takes him out to where the boats are docked, a back area where people aren't seen and the water seems mostly clear. He doesn't want Zayn to see it just sitting on a park bench, or standing with his head tilted upwards, he wants to give him the best seat in the house.
He had spoken about it with Liam, in between Zayn flitting from one activity to the other, whilst Louis and Liam trailed behind watching on. Liam had disagreed at first, said that's far too easy for him to leave, but after another hour or so and a drink or two, Liam seemed more than happy to let them out on a boat while he remained at the dock.
Zayn, a smiley, giddy mess, has so much excitement radiating off him that Louis feels it, too. He's leaning against Louis as they walk, bumping shoulders side by side as he talks animatedly and Louis feels shameful when he feels like holding his hand.
"Where are you taking me?" Zayn asks happily, becoming more and more firmly attached at Louis' side.
"I wanted to give you a good view." Louis replies, looking at him.
He's a little pink in the cheeks from the alcohol—God, Liam just had to order another shot—and his pupils are wide as he looks back at Louis, lips wet and plump like they were just bitten.
Louis has to look away instantly.
"Don't go too far, alright?" Liam warns from behind them, and that's when Louis realises they've stopped at one of the boats already.
So, Louis gets aboard first, making sure the boat is steady enough. It's only small, ones that don't make the initial cut for the people wanting to go out on the water, but it's enough for the two of them.
It's definitely enough for Zayn, apparently.
"We're getting on a boat?" He asks, brows raised.
Louis nods, "We are."
"First a car, now a boat." He smiles wide, "Are we getting on a plane, next?"
Louis lets out a loud laugh, "Easy, tiger. One form of transportation at a time, yeah?"
The boat wobbles beneath them as Louis helps Zayn onto it. He can tell Liam's watching with a shit-eating grin on his face and Louis doesn't give him the satisfaction of looking at him but his own stomach does a flip as he realises how romantic this is.
As Zayn sits somewhere on the boat, Louis loosens the rope from the dock and uses the oar to propel them further into the river. The boat glides easily, automatically pulled to the middle of the vast space of water.
There's other, bigger boats surrounding them, some even ships that remind Louis of pirates. But they're all further away, secluding Louis and Zayn from the rest of them.
Which is when Louis looks at Zayn for the first time since they've gotten on the boat, and he immediately wishes he had just ignored him. Because Zayn's looking right back, the darkness of the night mixed with the distant lights from ships casting him in something magical.
He's got a dopey sort of smile, eyes looking at him in the most relaxed, content way Louis' ever seen him look. He looks inviting, is what it is.
"Uhm," Louis starts, averting his eyes towards Liam, who's only a faceless figure now, and simultaneously scratches his head. "So, after this—“
"Lou..." Zayn interrupts. Louis hears the nickname and it's the second time he's said it but the meaning and the way it sounds is so contrastingly different to the first time. "Don't, like, think about that, yeah?"
Louis swallows. His eyes still look relaxed but there's a hint of sadness, one that makes his heart pull. He's right.
"You're right." Louis nods, sitting down across from Zayn. "Let's just enjoy this."
There's a new sense of darkened anticipation in the air between them now, unspoken awareness of what's about to happen. Zayn will have to go back to his tower, and possibly remain there until God knows when. Louis will have to leave far away from here, start a new life in another town, another country, maybe. And that’s if he even has the chance to get out. One thing’s for sure, though. After this, Louis' won't see Zayn again.
The thought hurts him more than he'd like to admit.
"Zayn," Louis says as he stares at the water. He looks up at him and his train of thought halters slightly as he locks onto Zayn's eyes that are, again, already looking at him, a thoughtful yet puzzled expression on his face. "Why... Why have you never left that tower?"
Louis' had his suspicions, thought it was some kind of fear. He knows of a phobia that results to something similar. But then he thought back to the odd way his front door works. If it were a phobia, why not make it easily accessible to leave? Zayn also said he thought Louis was someone else when he let him in, so that means the other person is able to leave, but not him.
Zayn's fiddling with the hem of his jeans around his ankle as he bites a corner of his bottom lip. He sighs as he straightens his back, eyes looking out towards all the boats but his mind seems somewhere else entirely.
"Mum always thought it was, uh, better... If I never got to leave." Zayn says, looking back at Louis, his expression anxious as though the reaction would be something awful. Louis just waits, though, knows that there's more. "I've asked her to take me to the lanterns but she always got so mad at me for even bringing it up. That's why, like, when you came along..."
He trails off. Louis bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to frown. It sounds wrong.
"Zayn," Louis says, softly. He reaches out to him and places a hand on his knee, Zayn acknowledges it and doesn't flinch away, "You know that if you go back there—“
"Lou." Zayn says pointedly, looking at him with a slight smile, "I thought we weren't doing this now?"
Louis holds his gaze for a second longer. He wants to keep talking about it, figure out what they’re—what Zayn’s—going to do after this.
He can't bare the thought of Louis leaving him, just for Zayn to be held captive for the rest of his life. Now that Zayn's finally out and experiencing the world, Louis knows he won't be able to stay put in that tower forever.
However, he also knows life advice from a criminal isn't what Zayn needs, either.
An excited gasp and a sudden squeeze to his thigh jolts Louis from his thoughts. His eyes go directly to the hand that's firmly attached itself to the inside of his thigh. Then he notices the lighting above him and picks his head up, catching the way the first few lanterns join the sky, floating up gracefully. Lastly, and regretfully, he takes in Zayn.
Zayn, who's looking up with glistening eyes—ones that make Louis want to jump right off into the water, because his stomach’s doing flips and his heart’s fluttering as though that's an actual thing hearts do—and the smile on his face is so wide and genuine that Louis can't force himself to look away.
The hand remains on his thigh but Zayn doesn't seem to realise he's even rested his it there, so transfixed on the lanterns that he doesn't seem to acknowledge Louis' unashamedly staring eyes boring into the side of his face, either.
~
Zayn's seen it from miles away, only above the trees and little larger than stars, floating across the sky in a slow matter before disappearing into the night.
But here—below them and so, so close—Zayn feels like he's been transported into another world, he's never seen anything like it.
They're around him, above him, hundreds of lanterns propelled and lighting up the sky. One floats down a little lower, just about touching the water and Zayn almost tips the boat as he reaches out to it, Louis' hand bracing his hips so he doesn't fall out. Zayn touches the bottom of the lantern and brings it back up, letting it float away towards the moon.
He sits back down, next to Louis, and realises his own hand is still on his thigh, Louis' hand still bracing his hips.
"Happy birthday, Zayn." Louis whispers, a sweet smile on his lips.
They're so close like this, Louis' hand so warm as it rests there, his eyes blinking slow as he looks at him.
Zayn wants to say thank you, but he realises it's for much more than that. He takes a leap of faith and makes himself smaller against him, before finally resting his head on Louis' shoulder.
Louis hesitates for a second, and Zayn thinks he's not breathing, but then he tightens his arm around him and they sit there like that, both facing towards the lantern-lit sky and relaxing on each other.
"I'm glad you stole the crown." Zayn finds himself saying, fingertips fiddling with the inseam of Louis' jeans.
Louis lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah," He breathes, "Me too.”
They float in the water calmly, the faint sounds of wonderment heard from the boats a few feet away and the slight waves crashing together being the only sounds Zayn can hear. He doesn’t want this night to end, doesn’t want this moment to end, and it’s scary, in a way, because it has to.
Zayn finds himself picking his head up suddenly, startling Louis as he does so.
“Where will you go when you return me and all of this is over?”
Louis shuts his eyes delicately, not opening for a second or two as though he were composing himself. He feels the hand on his hip tighten slightly and sees Louis’ jaw clench once before he opens his eyes.
There’s a quirk to his lips when he says, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about this now?”
Zayn swallows, “Yeah,” He says, then shakes his head, “But once we return back to shore, that’s the end of it, isn’t it? The freedom, I mean. Like, us two together.”
Louis twists his mouth as he thinks, a pained expression on his face. He shuffles his position, looks towards the light-filled sky and then shakes his head as he lets out a sigh filled with words he can’t say.
“You were right,” He admits, voice strained, “Let’s not talk about this now.”
“Louis,” Zayn says, a sudden shiver down his spine as the realisation dawns on him, “You will be okay, right?”
He takes longer to reply than Zayn would like, but then Louis’ squinting his eyes as he smiles, making reassuring noises as though Zayn’s the biggest stress-head ever, “Of course, love.” He says, “I’ll be livin’ it up in Costa Rica with all my new-found cash, don’t you worry about me. You, on the other hand.”
He pokes Zayn’s chest lightly, face suddenly feigning seriousness, as though he’s still trying to come off as carefree as he was seconds before. Zayn doesn’t buy into any of it, only looking at Louis and feeling his stomach sink further and further.
“You need to confront that mum of yours, yeah?” He continues, nodding, “And you need to come out and live in this world, maybe move in with our good friend Payno, experience life to the fullest.” He raises a finger and tilts his head with a smirk, “Though, not sure you’d like to be bossed around, since he does seem like the type of roommate that would.”
He chuckles softly but the words don’t sink into Zayn’s ears. He can see the mask over Louis’ face, disguising his own fear with humour so effortlessly Zayn thinks it’s something he’s had to practice and perfect overtime.
The crown burns into Zayn’s side as it’s securely nestled in his backpack. Zayn had almost told Louis that he had it, that his mother had surprised him with it. But he had instead told him it was a wolf he had heard that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Since then, Zayn, really, hadn’t thought about it.
He shrugs off the backpack without a second thought, opens it up and rustles through it.
“What are you doing?” Louis asks.
“It’s too risky for you to take me home and then leave,” Zayn says, wrapping his hands around the familiar piece. “So,” He brings it out, Louis’ now-glowing eyes zeroing in on it, “Take it.”
Louis’ mouth just about falls open. Zayn moves to hand it over, a twinge of sadness hitting him when he sees the wonderment written on Louis’ face. His mother was right.
But then Louis’ frowning, shaking his head. “This wasn’t part of the deal—“
“Fuck the deal.” Zayn interjects, rolling his eyes, “You took me here, you risked your life—“
“Our lives, actually.”
“—and I don’t care about what happens after here, just as long as you’re safe.”
Louis visibly softens, a genuine smile pulling at his lips as he looks at Zayn.
He gently takes the crown from Zayn’s waiting fingers and places it on the seat next to him before leaning in. He then takes Zayn’s hands in his own and Zayn can’t help but look at them intertwined. He breathes in shakily when he looks back up, Louis’ face a mere few inches from his own.
“I guess I sort of only care if you’re safe, too.” Louis says with a smile.
Zayn lets out a chuckle, “Sort of?”
“Okay, okay.” Louis grins, the skin beside his now-curved eyes crinkling, “I definitely only care about that. So I’m definitely returning you home.”
Zayn smiles at his feet. He blinks back up to Louis’ eyes and wonders what will happen if he just lent in a little bit more. He wonders if he just pressed their foreheads together, only just, before surging forwards and kissing him, right there underneath all these lanterns.
He decides to pluck up the courage and do it. He leans in a bit, to which Louis automatically copies, and Zayn can feel his heart pick up in pace, stomach flipping at the anticipation. Because, yes, it’s happening…
Until Louis’ eyes dart to the right and something suddenly washes over his expression instantly.
“Is everything alright?” Zayn whispers, inwardly annoyed.
“Y—yeah, yeah,” Louis says unconvincingly, eyes still locked onto something else. “I just… I’m gonna handle something quickly, yeah?”
Zayn frowns and turns in the direction of Louis’ gaze. During their time on the small boat, they’ve somehow wandered over to the other side of the river, almost at the bank. He can’t see much else, though, and isn’t sure of what Louis’ referring to.
Once the boat bumps into the muddy shore, Louis gives Zayn a meaningful look with a smile and squeezes both his hands. Then he picks up the crown that was next to him and steps off the boat with ease. He walks off, behind a big boulder, and Zayn feels that same emptiness he felt when he left him at the woods.
He tells himself it’s fine, the conversation they just shared, Louis can’t have been faking that. He believes him.
~
Louis wakes up in motion. He’s now all-too familiar with the feelings of waking up after having been knocked out, and this time is definitely one of them.
He blinks awake, immediately acknowledging the fact that he’s not sitting, or remaining still at all. He’s floating in the water, but not on the small boat he was previously on, and his hands are strapped to the ship’s wheel. His entire body, in fact, is strapped to the pole behind him.
“Zayn!” He calls out, fear overwhelming him, thinking that Zayn’s been taken, too. “Zayn?”
But it doesn’t get an answer. Any answer, at that.
He looks behind him as much as he can, back to the shore where he left, and can’t make out anyone.
The last thing he remembers is talking to Harry and Niall, giving them the crown and telling them to keep it. He has no recollection of how he got knocked out and how he got strapped to this fucking ship.
Louis lets out a loud groan and tries to escape these ties. He budges and thankfully they’re not as tight as when Zayn had strapped him. He manages to get his left hand free, first, and then easily rips out his right. His body’s a bit harder, the stickiness of the tape clinging onto the material of his shirt. The boat isn’t far from the palace. He tries to search for Liam, knows that he’s still waiting somewhere for them to return.
He’s further out from where they originally were, though.
“Liam!” Louis tries, calling out best he can. But the palace is still noisy, the festival still happening. And then he witnesses the group of police at the dock walking forwards, waiting for him. Louis screams out louder, “LIAM!”
But he’s already too close, and for once, Louis isn’t fast enough. The police jump onto the ship and before Louis can even jump off, and he’s tackled immediately to the floorboards.
“Get off me! Get off me!” Louis struggles underneath their hold but he knows there’s no point. Three separate men are holding him down, making it hard for him to squirm in the slightest.
Once he’s stopped resisting, he’s hoisted up and held by either arm. Louis knows exactly where he’s headed.
~
“Oh, honey,” His mother coos, patting his head, “I told you this would happen. I tried to warn you, but.” She sighs, standing up, “I guess now you’ve learned your lesson, hm?”
Zayn sniffs, nods his head.
He feels nothing. A great abyss in which his soul lies, the image of Louis’ silhouette driving the boat away from him on constant replay in his mind.
After all of this, everything they’ve been through—and the temptation of a boat of all things—Louis finds it easy to leave.
“So I’m definitely returning you home.”
Zayn feels sick.
But, the truth is, that’s all they ever had. A deal.
Zayn was a secluded occupant of a tower who had an indescribable desire to get out, and Louis was a long-time broke criminal who just so happened to have leverage that could make Zayn’s dream come true.
That’s what it started as. Zayn had thought it could be something different, but obviously this is what it ended as, too.
“I’m making your favourite dinner, darling,” She continues, shaking Zayn out of his daze. She lingers at the doorway of his bedroom, “A nice warm dish of rogan josh, just for you.”
All Zayn manages is a nod. He feels exhausted. He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s been an extensive two days, or because it’s late, or because it feels as though his own heart has been torn out of his chest and stepped on multiple times because he was too gullible and naive to trust the first person he saw from the outside world.
Perhaps it’s all three.
He flops back onto his bed and shuts his eyes. The boat floating away on the water is the first thing to pop up. He lets out an angry noise. What was so great about the crown, anyway? Why was it so valuable, why did everyone want to capture Louis because of it? Why on Earth did Louis steal it in the first place and therefore find himself on the run, bumping into Zayn?
And then he’s thinking their time in the palace, drinking and dancing and being amongst something. Seeing a grand picture on the wall of the King and Queen with their baby Prince. And then of Liam in the woods as they walked side by side, complimenting Zayn and saying he looked just like the King - to which Zayn agrees with, now. And then of Louis, how he explained the lanterns, how they put them to the sky in hopes that the lost Prince comes home.
The crown had belonged to said lost Prince.
Who, as he gathered from spending a day at his home, was stolen by a woman when he was only a baby. Who had many baby photos. Who looked like Zayn. And Zayn, Who was shunned for even thinking about leaving the tower and was told lies by his own mother about the meaning of the lanterns.
“Stars.” Zayn repeats with bitterness.
He fetches out the small souvenir Louis stole for him from the palace—a napkin with the Kingdom’s embalm etched on it—and fiddles with it between his finger and thumbs.
And then it clicks. It happens every year on his birthday by no coincidence.
He is the lost Prince.
~
“So.” Louis says, hand-cuffed hands clasped in his lap as he sits in the backseat of a divi van. The two policemen sit in the front seats, glancing at each other in a fed-up fashion as soon as they hear Louis’ oddly optimistic voice. “Where are you fine lads taking me?”
“Electric chair, if you’re lucky.” One of them replies, earning a snicker from the other.
Louis lets out a laugh, too, an airy one that gives away his nerves.
“Or, if you’re not so lucky,” The one in the passenger seat says, turning so he locks eyes with Louis, “The Queen might just want to decapitate you herself.”
They both let out a laugh, loud and intrusive and Louis shrinks further into his chair, getting the feeling that they’re not joking around at all. Is that even a punishment in this day and age? Decapitation? He supposes if the Queen has anything to do with it, it very well might be.
Louis attempts to clear his throat, making sure he doesn’t sound too squeaky when he talks, “How much longer until…” He scrambles his brain on words to finish with. Until what? Until they all witness his own death that could possibly be broadcasted on live television? Until Louis’ aware of the moment he takes his final breath? Until he has to stare at the respective (electrical or royal) weapon of choice and face his death? “…we arrive?” is what he settles on.
“What, you got phone calls to make?”
The question is met with another unnecessary laugh, “Bad ol’ boy gotta kiss all his friends good-bye?”
“Mate, do you even have anyone who’s gonna miss you?” He asks, not expecting an answer, “Probably that Black Market that nobody fuckin’ knows.”
It stings, he has to admit. But as the insults simmer in his ears and he swallows down the lump in his throat, something stings even more. He won’t get to say his good bye’s to Harry and Niall, the ones that have been with him from the start and still are on his side even when Louis let his selfishness get in the way. He’ll even miss Liam a tiny bit, since, apparently, when spending time with him in close quarters for a whole day, he’s not so bad.
And Zayn. Someone who he knows will miss him back, too. Someone who he only just met last night, at the brink of midnight and in the strangest way possible. Someone who was scared to even step on the grass in his own front lawn and has now entered the scariest bar known to man, run away from a herd of angry people with weapons, been trapped in a cave that almost drowned them both, slept on the ground in the middle of the woods at night-time, travelled in a cop car that took them to the palace, spent the day there for the most celebrated annual event, sat in a boat, watched the lanterns float up and up into the sky—and… is now probably stuck there on the side of the river without a clue of what to do, scared and alone and most likely feeling betrayed.
Louis broke his promise.
“Aw, he’s gone quiet.” The driver coos, looking back to see Louis but Louis doesn’t meet his eyes.
The other one makes a few patronising noises, too, but Louis doesn’t hear them. His sight is on the healed cut on his hand. He remembers how delicately Zayn took his hand into his own, how he saw the gold from his fingertips shine close-up, the way his skin healed over in a blink of an eye.
He feels like crying. He wants so badly just to go back to their time on the boat. He wishes he didn’t see Harry and Niall, wishes Zayn never showed him the crown and wishes they had just gone back to Liam, even if it had meant they’d nevertheless part ways; at least it would have been with happier minds and fulfilled hearts. Zayn thought they’d both be okay. Louis had almost convinced himself, too.
Louis places his head in his hands. If only.
“Jesus fucking—!”
The car stops suddenly, Louis jolts forwards.
He picks his head up, only to see that the headlights are shining on a group of people surrounding the car. The road is almost deserted with any other cars, but Louis can’t see all that well through the steel cage separating Louis from them like some kind of animal.
“What in the blooming hell is all this?”
At that, a loud smack comes down onto the windshield, making the three passengers jump in fear. Then another one comes to the driver’s side’s window, resulting in the driver shouting out.
“Call for backup. Call for backup!”
But before either of them could reach their walkie-talkies, the window directly to Louis’ left gets smashed open.
~
When her footsteps are heard walking towards his room, Zayn feels his heartbeat in his ears. He wants to shout, wants to yell and order for answers, wants to shake himself out of it all the same—because this realisation is something of a fairytale, yet it makes so much sense.
So when she enters back into the room, tray in her hands with dinner on top, Zayn scrunches the napkin in his hand and doesn’t return her too-happy smile.
“Baby, here’s your—“
“I’m not your son, am I?” He asks directly, eyes never leaving her fallen expression.
She frowns, “Zayn, what—?”
“Answer the question.”
“I…” She scoffs, eyes darting around the room, her mouth wide in shock, “I can’t believe you’re even asking this. I raised you.”
“But you never gave birth to me, did you?” Zayn asks, refraining from gritting his teeth. He stands now, and the glimmer of fear in his mother’s eyes is enough verification for all of his questions. “I’m the lost Prince.”
There’s a split second of hesitation until she turns her feigned hurt expression into a grimace. “Now, listen to me. I don’t know what that thief told you or what you saw while you were out there, but don’t ever think you were that fucking special, you hear me? You are my child!”
He looks her in the eyes. She stares at him, nostrils flared and a burning in her iris’s. If Zayn didn’t know better, he’d apologise profusely, beg for her forgiveness, hate himself for even insinuating something so absurd and believe her every word. But Zayn does know better. He knows himself better, the world better, he knows that the woman standing in front of him doesn’t love him even if she preaches as much. He knows he doesn’t belong here—never did, in fact. And he knows, with every fibre of his being, from the feeling in his gut to the way her eyes burn with the fear of being caught out, that she’s wrong and he’s right.
“You’re a liar.” Is all he manages.
A few seconds pass with no words. Zayn challenges her silently and she starts to fidget on the spot. He waits and waits and waits… Until she sighs in defeat.
“You’re better with me—“
He can’t control it, and suddenly she’s braced against the wall, Zayn’s hand around her neck. The alarm in her expression and the adrenaline in his veins are the two things Zayn acknowledges at the same time. He lets go as soon as he had put her there and she drops to the floor besides the tray of food spilt.
Zayn shakes his head. He grits his teeth together. He paces the room.
All he can think about is Louis. He never abandoned him, did he? Something happened, right there on the shore. He got out, he was meant to be back. Something happened, and his mother conveniently was there at the same time.
“What did you do to him?”
She rolls her eyes, fingers touching her neck, and laughs weakly. “Oh, please. Like you care. He got what was inevitably coming for him.”
Zayn clenches his fists, “Where is he?”
“Electric chair, perhaps? Maybe on death row, it’s hard to tell with a criminal history like his.“
It’s like a weight pressing down on him. He collapses onto the edge of the bed, looking at nothing. Louis’ going to die.
~
“What did I tell you, mate?” The guy from the bar says, sliding an arm around Louis’ shoulders, “Us criminals have to stick together!”
Louis laughs loudly, nodding along. The two policemen are currently tied up together, sitting on the ground, absolutely scared shitless.
“I gotta say, I thought I was gonna die when you smashed my window.” Louis tells him, points to the beaten up car for good measure.
He shrugs, “Well, you were already staring death in the face, weren’t ya?”
Louis’ about to reply when someone else sidles up to his side, tapping him on the shoulder. Louis turns to see Liam, smiling at him like he’s actually glad Louis got away.
“Hello, fellow cop, are you here to turn me in once and for all?” Louis greets, placing his hands on his hips.
Liam’s smile turns into a frown. His hand falls off Louis’ shoulder and he almost looks sad. “I wouldn’t. Not… not after everything, I think.”
Louis’ head jerks back in surprise, “Come again?”
Liam breathes in deeply, rolls his eyes. “Just shut the fuck up and come with me.”
This time, Louis frowns, “Huh? Where are we going?”
He follows him anyway, even as Liam turns to him and says, “To find Zayn, of course.”
It’s far-fetched. It’s undeniably a terrible idea. The last person Zayn will want to see is Louis.
“He hates me now. He thinks I deserted him.”
“Mate, I wouldn’t be sure about that.” Liam tells him as they reach his car. He opens the door, gestures for Louis to hop in the passengers side. “But, hey, there’s only one way to find out.”
Louis fiddles with his bottom lip in between his teeth as he looks at the car and then back the way he came. There’s really no option, is there? Face Zayn and undeniably end up with the worst broken heart that he could imagine, or face the kingdom and end up with broken bones from his skull to his pinkie toe.
That thought makes him shudder and in turn, makes up his mind.
“Right.” Louis clears his throat, hopping into the passenger seat. “Let’s go, then.”
~
The sticky-tape clings to the button like it did the first time, but the sky has started to rain and the edges of it aren’t staying on the brick like it should. Zayn grabs an old t-shirt, dries the section of brick, and presses down on the tape. It works, but only for a few seconds until the water trails down and frays the ends.
He wishes he could find a fresh roll of tape, one that isn’t hidden wherever his mother—Jesus, he doesn’t even know if he can call her that anymore—has taken it. At this rate, the rain is falling off the tape that’s waving in the wind over the button, keeping it dry like a curtain. His plan, as it seems, is to wait for the perfect time so he can tape it securely, open the door, run out of the tower and escape to find Louis.
The rain, however, is coming down harder and is turning his plans to shit.
He looks out the window, the lanterns no longer decorating the sky. A flash of lighting appears instead and Zayn closes his eyes, hearing the thunder that echoes in the distance. Louis’ out there, getting hung or stoned or some medieval punishment that they’ve deemed necessary for his crime. It turns his stomach to mush, makes his eyes sting and if it weren’t for the burning anger he has for the woman down the hall, he’d be completely numb.
He opens his eyes again, and sees the sticky tape barely holding on at all. Zayn lets out a groan of desperation before he presses his back to the wall and hits it with the soft part of his fist.
It’s then, that he hears footsteps.
~
“Bloody hell, could you go any faster?” Louis screams, holding onto whatever he can for dear life.
Liam just laughs in response. He’s crazy. He’s absolutely mad and Louis’ sure of it.
The car flies up a speed hump and bounces back down onto the road, making Louis almost hit his head on the roof of the car. Being scared would be an understatement, definitely.
“We’re already on the run, mate!” Liam tells him, grinning, “Might as well make them more angry!”
Louis just shakes his head, trying not to blurt out every swear word under the sun. They bypass the forest-part of the road and end up somewhere Louis deems familiar.
“Here!” Louis yells, directing Liam right, into an off-road.
Liam swerves, the car skids on the asphalt and the sound screeches through both their ears. Louis’ heart’s pumping so fast and his eyes are peeled so wide he can only imagine how he must look right now.
They dart through the off-road with Louis directing from memory. He would of had to take Zayn back anyway, via walking, yet with the rain coming down as much as it is, Louis wonders what they would have had to do for shelter and warmth.
He shakes his head. Enough of that, now.
“Left.” Louis tells him, not having to scream it anymore since Liam’s finally slowed down.
It’s the end of the road, here. Nothing but grass and trees for miles. Liam stops the car and Louis’ heart starts pumping fast for an entirely different reason.
“It’ll be okay.” Liam reassures, his big, brown, stupid puppy-eyes making it seem like the truth. He places a hand on Louis’ shoulder, squeezes once, and nods.
“Thank you.” Louis finds himself saying. He looks at Liam, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to take me here.”
“No shit.” Liam laughs, “But the police force was overrated anyway.”
“Overrated, hm?” Louis’ asks, eyebrows raised. “Well, I didn’t see that one coming from assertive, too-good, always-plays-by-the-rules Payno—“
“Louis.”
Louis blinks. “Yeah?”
Liam gives him a knowing, half-smile, “You’re stalling.”
“Right.” Louis inhales. He drums his fingers on his kneecaps once before nodding. “I’ll, uh, meet you back here?”
Liam squeezes his shoulder again before letting his hand drop. “Take as long as you need.”
~
“I wanted to chat to you.” Gothel says, entering Zayn’s room.
“I don’t.” Zayn responds.
She swallows, then lingers a little bit before taking a step closer. “You have to know that I only want the best for you at all times.” She sighs, sitting down at the edge of his bed. “Louis… wasn’t right for you. I don’t know how many times we have to go over this. You deserve someone who’s… I don’t know, pretty. Someone who isn’t a criminal, a girl who you’ll marry and have kids with—“
“How could I ever find someone if you—“
“Dear, please.” She says, holding up a finger. “I was talking.”
Zayn feels his face contort into something with sheer disbelief.
“You may want to find him now, run off together, whatever.” She continues, no acknowledgment to her rudeness. If anything, she should be scared of him. Apologetic. “But I can guarantee you, if you even find him in time, that this is only a mere fling.”
“Maybe so.” Zayn replies, the frown etched on his forehead deepening, “That doesn’t mean I won’t try and stop him from dying. So let me go.”
Gothel stands with her hands behind her back, breathes in, then says, “No.” She looks down at Zayn’s hands. “You will continue to keep me young.”
Zayn looks down at his hands, too.
Of course.
He was stolen and kidnapped by this woman, only to keep her youth. Using him for his magic—something she had warned Zayn about, in the outside world, of others taking advantage of. He wants to laugh, or cry. Or maybe cut his hands off in an attempt to leave forever.
He couldn’t hurt her. That was below him. But he could use his physical build to keep her from stopping him. He thinks he’s learnt a thing or two from strapping Louis down.
He turns his hands, palms up, and walks towards her. “This is all you wanted?”
She smiles, nodding. “Of course, dear.”
He returns her smile, “Why didn’t you say so?”
Zayn was about to count in his head, pick her up and take her to one of the chairs. But she seems to be two steps in front of him.
A cloth attaches to his mouth and nose. He pushes her arm away from him but she spins them around. Zayn backs away and hits the mirror, making it shatter. He can smell the chloroform in his nostrils and around his mouth. He staggers up from the mirror and lurches for her, but his muscles go weak.
He falls onto the floor, everything turning to black.
~
The tower looks different in the rain. Less appealing, a lot more small. Maybe because he knows someone actually lives here, and that person is a grown man not much bigger than himself. The door remains shut this time, though.
“Zayn?” He tries, his voice not carrying anywhere through the rain. He backs out so he can see the window he knows Zayn’s bedroom is. “Zayn! Mate, I’m sorry, can you let me in? It’s fucking freezing out here.”
He waits, but there’s no answer. He can see a faint light on in the bedroom and Louis shrugs.
He starts from about twenty bricks up, jumping up to latch onto the ones sticking out the most. He’s climbed dozens of buildings in his lifetime, times when he was running away and really had to put his skills to the test. The rain, though, isn’t stopping and his feet have slipped once or twice already.
“This better be worth it.” Louis mumbles to himself.
He imagines himself entering through the window, scaring the shit out of Zayn, copping a slap or a punch, and then being told to leave. It’d be for nothing, except maybe some closure. Closure as in, knowing that this book can be shut and Louis won’t have to worry about leaving someone behind when he inevitably gets caught and, obviously, killed.
He’s about half-way up the tower now, and god, do his arms hurt. He keeps going, nevertheless. Even though the rain is pouring and his thighs are shaking.
Eventually, he reaches the window.
He’ll be seeing Zayn in a drenched outfit, out of breath and hair in a disastrous state. It’s a good recipe for something as important as this, Louis thinks as he hoists himself up from the windowsill.
Thankfully, the window is still open, and Zayn didn’t spot Louis climbing up and shut it promptly. If Louis were in Zayn’s position, and Zayn had gone back on a particular promise, he can’t say that Louis wouldn’t do exactly that. Probably do something worse, actually.
He manages to lay flat on his stomach on the window sill, trying to catch his breath in the least attractive way possible. From here, he looks up.
Louis almost falls back out the window from what he sees.
At the floor at the end of the bed lies Zayn, sitting up and bounded to the bed leg, mouth gagged and eyes stressfully looking at him.
As soon as Louis re-adjusts his grip, he rushes over the windowsill and drops down into the room. Zayn’s shaking his head viciously, trying to scream through the cotton over his mouth and looking at Louis through tears, his eyes trying to tell him something.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Louis rushes over, kneeling down, he unties the cotton and as soon as it falls from Zayn’s mouth he whispers to him harshly.
“You have to go, you have to go, Louis, you’re an idiot for coming here, you have to—“
“Z, what—?” Louis frowns deeply, fingertips lightly wiping away Zayn’s tears, the red marks around his mouth. “Who did this to you?”
“Doesn’t matter.” Zayn rushes out. Louis grabs the paperclip he has from his back pocket and begins to pick at Zayn’s handcuffs, “You can’t be here. Louis, look at me. Louis.”
“What?” Louis looks at him, his motions paused.
His eyes are pleading. “Leave. Please.”
Louis sighs, shaking his head. He starts on the cuffs again. “I’m not leaving you.”
“Well, look who we have here.” A woman’s voice comes from the doorway.
Louis spins around from his kneeling position on the floor. She walks closer. Zayn’s breathing quickens. Louis looks her up and down. An older woman, a little shorter than Louis. An easy target.
“Ah,” Louis says, standing. He holds out his hand. “You must be Zayn’s mother.”
She gives him a false smile and takes a step closer. Then slaps him across the face.
“Don’t hurt him!” Zayn screams.
“Shit.” Louis says, bringing his hand to his cheek.
“Back away.” She tells Louis.
Louis does what he’s told. He doesn’t know what her motive is or why she’s crazy, but it seems best to assess her before doing anything else.
She bends down to Zayn and fixes the bandana over his mouth, making his voice a mumbled strain. Zayn sobs, muffled noises that make Louis’ heart clench. He decides he wants to kill this woman.
With her back turned, he lunges for her.
But that’s quickly the wrong move, since she turns and faces a handgun in his direction. Zayn lets out a scream and Louis feels his stomach fall through his butt. He tries to reason with himself. He’s talked his way out of gunfire many times. Many, many times. His wit and charm and quick mind gets him out of every situation he’s ever been in. Mostly. How is this any different?
“Get out.” She orders, making Louis back away. “Or I won’t hesitate to shoot you in front of Zayn right now.”
Zayn squeezes his eyes shut, breathing through his nose rapidly.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Louis says, holding his hands up in defence. “I think we can both agree that’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”
She shrugs, “Do I?”
He looks around the room hastily. He sees the mirror next to Zayn completely shattered. Shards of glass fill the floor and it looks like that’s the only sufficient piece of weaponry Louis can use right now. Though, they’re next to the doorway, opposite from where he stands.
He takes tiny steps around the room, towards it. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, gorgeous.”
“Gothel.” She replies bitterly, watching Louis carefully. “You’re Louis. Still doesn’t change my mind about shooting you. Now, leave.”
“Love,” Louis laughs airily, “Let’s put the gun down, yeah? We could sit around the kitchen, have a chat over a warm cuppa—“
He hears it before he feels it.
The gunshot stuns his ears. It turns everything into a ringing noise—especially the way Zayn’s agonising scream echoes through the room. He then knows where it’s hit him. It’s the chest, straight through him like a spear. Warm and wet and undeniably uncomfortable.
He staggers. Once, twice, and on the third footstep he falls. The world is spinning as he turns onto his back. He can only just make out the figure of Gothel standing beside him, talking to Zayn in a calm tone as he sobs wretchedly.
Louis wants to tell him he loves him, wants to scream but the words don’t come out. His leg twitches, though, and it’s a no-brainer with what he does next.
In his last moment, his last bound of energy, he moves his leg just so. Forceful enough that it swipes underneath Gothel’s ankles.
She stumbles backwards and slips over Louis’ shins as she falls.
~
Her feet are the last to disappear out of the window.
Zayn doesn’t feel anything for her. He looks immediately to Louis’ lifeless body, blood pouring out from his chest, from behind him, seeping through the cracks of the floorboards.
He doesn’t have a voice, everything comes out strained. He’s said Louis’ name so much it’s worn out, his throat dry and his cheeks wet. It can’t be real, it can’t be. It can’t end here.
He thrashes around, attempts to grind the chain hooking both his wrists together on the steel bed leg to wear it down but it doesn’t work. And if it does, it’s too slow. It’s much too slow. He shuffles the cloth down over his mouth with his tongue, shifting it and moistening it so the fabric weakens. It’s disgusting and time-consuming but it eventually falls down around his neck in a wet mess and his mouth is free.
“LOUIS!” He shouts desperately, as though the sound of his voice will miraculously awaken him. He kicks off his shoes in a haste, socks in toe, praying that this will work. He slides down onto his back, feet mere inches away from Louis’ chest.
He hums. He hums until the song ends yet all that glows are his fingertips. He focuses all his energy into the bottoms of his feet, the tips of his toes, hoping they’ll light up, and hums again. The outcome remains the same and Zayn kicks the floor with his heel in anger.
“Fuck!” He spits with irritation. He looks to the glow on his hands starting to dim, and sees the paperclip still lodged in the lock of the handcuffs. Zayn had no idea how Louis was going to release him with something so little, and he has no idea now, but he places his teeth onto it regardless.
He can’t see shit. Not the position of the paperclip, not with the fucking tears in his eyes, not anything. He’s fiddling with it, turning it, but it all seems useless. Zayn groans in annoyance and wipes his eyes with frustration on the bed’s duvet and inspects it a little more.
Taking the paperclip between his teeth, he figures out how to turn it properly, as though turning a key. He pushes in, then twists. It doesn’t work. Not the second, third, twentieth time. He’s about to give up, about to start his method of grinding down the metal again, when he ends up twisting it a little bit more to the left, and then the right, and—click.
Zayn looks down at the cuffs. He lets out a little huff of relief and manages to get one wrist free. Without wasting a moment, he crawls over to Louis’ body immediately.
He hums the same tune, hands pressed onto Louis’ chest, around the bullet wound. He hasn’t looked at Louis’ face yet. Doesn’t want to.
The song ends and the glow dims but the bullet remains lodged in his chest and nothing’s healed.
Zayn shakes his head. A drop falls from his eyes.
“No.” He refuses to believe it. He hums again, this time pressing harder. The humming is cracked and broken. The third time, it’s interrupted by a sob, and both his hands press on top of the wound.
Still, nothing.
He tries to resuscitate him using a method he read about, with the forceful pads that electrify the heart, restarting it. He hums the song, presses down forceful enough it makes Louis’ body jolt.
“C’mon. Come on!” Zayn urges, jolting him harder. “Wake up!”
But it does nothing.
He thinks back to the cut on Louis’ hand. The way it healed instantly. The expression of awe on Louis’ face. How Zayn was able to rid of such pain so easily.
He dares to look at Louis’ face. His heart lurches at the sight of it. The colour from his face is drained, lips parted slightly and his eyes closed. His fringe is covering part of his face and Zayn brushes it away with his fingertips, revealing it. He remembers doing the same thing when they first met, but with the handle of a fry-pan, a distance apart.
Then and now, Zayn looks over a motionless Louis, completely unthreatening and dream-like.
For a moment, Zayn wishes he could go back in time to their first encounter, and let him leave without any deal, without any promises.
Since then, he wouldn’t be dead.
“‘M sorry, Lou.” Zayn mumbles, the rock in his throat making it difficult to make words. He holds him to his chest, breathes in his hair. “I’m so sorry.”
He could try throwing him over his shoulder, carrying to civilisation and getting help. He could try ripping up the bed linen, tying it around Louis’ gash and tightening so the blood doesn’t spill. He could try many things, but Zayn’s aware that even the most isolated person can tell that Louis’ gone.
He places Louis delicately back on the ground. He sniffs, teardrops falling by the millisecond, mixing in with the blood. He was too late.
Zayn closes his eyes and breathes in heavily. How can this be it?
He finds it in himself to stand. His legs are shaky and the room isn’t still but he braces himself using the wall behind him and the bed to the side of him. Louis’ body is glowing but Zayn knows it’s the leftover fragments of his hands. His mind playing a sick, twisted trick on him. A mirage to let him have some kind of false hope even though it’s a displacement of his vision, just like how he can’t see straight.
Louis once told him that he didn’t care if he died. He told him that nobody else would, so why would he?
“I fucking care, Louis.” Zayn whispers, stumbling as he steps over his body. “I cared then. I care now.”
He sees the pieces of glass shattered on the floor. Sees the body next to him that used to hold so much life, so much emotion and Zayn loves him. He loves him so much.
He’ll have to bury him. He’ll have to let him rot in the same ground that Louis encouraged Zayn to step onto for the first time ever. He’ll have to host a funeral, the only one attending being himself. His other friends wouldn’t know he was dead, he’s sure they’d care. Liam would care. But Zayn would be left alone, up in this tower, not knowing how to continue in the flurry on the town without Louis’ constant guidance.
Louis was his first real friend. His first love. And now he’s gone.
It’s probably a moment of weakness, what he does next. But the thought of continuing completely alone, the idea of even waking up tomorrow and replaying the scenes of tonight, the haunting guilt that would plague his entire being with the wishing that they’d never met — it’s enough for Zayn to pick up the largest piece of glass he can find.
He slides down to the floor, eyes seeing nothing but waves. His hand shakes, the pain of it pressing into his palm is almost enough to startle the numbness that he feels all over. He chances a look to Louis again, and the golden glow has duplicated.
It’s impossible, it’s so impossible because his hands are here, and Louis is over there. It’s impossible because Zayn’s not humming, he’s not even touching him, for god’s sake.
Zayn closes his eyes. He knows he’s only seeing what he wants to see. He brings the glass up to his neck. His breath hitches continuously, hand unable to remain steady.
Zayn closes his eyes and the first thing he sees is Mother Gothel shooting Louis, Louis falling to the ground. He opens his eyes again.
And when he looks at Louis, they lock eyes.
Zayn drops the piece of glass and it clatters to the floorboards. Blood from his hand drips onto his leg but Zayn doesn’t acknowledge it. He stills completely, the sound of his breath inhaling the loudest thing he can hear. Then Louis blinks, and Zayn can feel his heart stop.
“Zayn…”
He’s over there in an instant, picking up Louis in his arms and hugging him. He breathes him in, tears spilling out, legs covered in blood but he doesn’t even care. He pulls him away again, and Louis looks up to smile weakly.
“Lou, you—you’re… How?” He strokes Louis’ cheek with the backs of his knuckles, down his neck and to his chest. The wound is healed completely, and Zayn spots the bullet on the floor.
The glow wasn’t imaginary.
“Almost pulled a Romeo and Juliet did’ya?” Louis croaks.
Zayn doesn’t know what he means, but he holds him tighter anyway, overwhelmed with relief as Louis wraps his arm around him, too.
“Let’s get you onto the bed,” Zayn says hurriedly, ready to pick Louis up, suddenly realising how weak he must feel, “We’ll get you comfortable—“
“Hey,” Louis says, soft. He pulls Zayn’s gaze and they look at each other for a moment or two with Louis shaking his head, “Let’s just stay here for a bit, yeah?”
His eyes are so blue as they look up into Zayn’s own. The colour is back into his cheeks and he’s looking more content just to sit here and be together than Zayn could’ve imagined. He’s here, so close and alive.
Zayn brings the hand that’s resting on Louis’ chest to his face, running a thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. He looks down to Louis’ lips, and doesn’t even think for a moment before leaning in and kissing him.
A startled sound comes from Louis’ throat, but he doesn’t pull away. And Zayn’s mind catches up to his actions, making his eyes widen and jolt back.
Louis looks at him with an amused smile. Zayn feels a fire stir in the pit of his stomach.
“I… god. Sorry.” Zayn breathes. “I just—I thought I lost you, and…”
Louis chuckles lowly, then switches his position so he’s a bit more upright. He runs his fingers through Zayn’s hair, eyes crinkling by their sides as he smiles.
“It’s fine.” He says, then kisses him.
#zouis#fic#this is an extremely dark version so!!!! don't go into this expecting a fluffy fairytale lmao#writing
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Critical Reading 101
I love 5/4 members of One Direction. And since solo gigs are what we’re getting right now, I’m happy to have them, and by them, I mean the songs, and the multitude of cheeky interviews and the instagram stories and the live performances. But let’s not forget that these boys have not left the stunt show, and probably never will. It’s the price we pay for the free entertainment.
I love Louis. And I’m glad that he got his cover/solo interview time. But I’m surprised to see fans that are so critical of everything that comes out of these camps just spooning down the narrative being served up here, because it’s what they want to hear.
I’m not arguing that Louis didn’t have moments of doubt, or struggle with self-esteem. I think most of them did. But to play Louis like the least popular member of One Direction...it’s like you’ve never spent ten minutes on tumblr. Liam, Niall, and Louis have all had moments when they seemed like the background. Moments, not the duration.
Because one of the things that has always set One Direction apart from the classic boybands of yore is that they never really broke down into that Justin Timberlake and the Pips dynamic (I’m sorry JC I had to make the example, old school fans know how important you were to NSYNC).
I remember someone from The Wanted once complaining that it wasn’t fair because in One Direction the were all the cute one. Look at their singles past the first album and you’ll see each boy having a solo moment, probably because the fans demanded it. There was no Chris Kirkpatrick or Danny Wood or Howie Dorough in One Direction. I think Simon cast Louis and Niall into those roles, but they didn’t stay put. Not from the start. The interviewer paints this picture to support the story he wants to tell.
“And then there’s you.”
“And then there’s me.”
The interviewer fed him that line.
And then they do a pull quote and stick it in the heading for emphasis:
“Niall is lovely, Zayn has the voice, Harry is cool, Liam gets the crowd going… then there’s me”
How do Niall’s personality traits put him above Louis in the band? Liam getting the crowd going? Harry being cool? What are you even talking about? To hear him tell it, they were a bunch of happy popular boys who relied on Zayn’s voice and stuck Louis in the back because he wasn’t popular enough, because... it’s nonsense. And I don’t think it’s what Louis really believes.
They’re creating a narrative for underdog Louis because SYCO has decided it’s the best way to sell him. He’s the only 1D solo act they have left, and he isn’t projected to sell as well as Harry or Zayn, so they’ve decided to appeal to his massive fan base. That’s why Freddie & El barely made the radar in this particular interview. They’re pandering to their audience.
Just because they do this shit doesn’t mean you shouldn’t support Louis’ solo run, or that you cant get anything good out of these articles. Remember that infamous Attitude interview Liam did? Know what I pulled away from it? The fact that Sophia was on the way out. They were together at the time, but it was seeded plain as day (”she needs to go off and do what she wants to do”), and at the time I was happy (having no idea what evil lurked on the other side).
Zayn recently did a bit of fan girl fluff an interview with The Evening Standard, and what I gained from that is that his dad Yaser was a stay at home dad. This was kind of a huge revelation because Yaser was all but written out of Zayn’s 1D narrative, and yet he was the one that was home everyday with he kids when Zayn left home for 1D. Really makes you think.
And when I read this interview with Louis, I felt the genuine loss of his mother and best friend. That felt honest. And it felt special that he let us in on that. I also believed his desire to be seen as “a real entity and a person.” That was some insight into Louis.
So the idea here is to read critically. Because even if it’s a narrative you like, it’s always going to be something they want you to see. That’s the nature of this beast we’re in. But that old saying about the baby and the bathwater applies here. You can get incredible insight through some of these interviews. But usually it’s not what the author is trying to push.
Question everything.
Question this post.
To paraphrase Walt Whitman: Reexamine all you have been told... dismiss whatever insults your soul.
#dont fall for it#sycodest won't stop#the pictures were great#solo louis#solo liam#solo harry#solo niall#zolo zayn#question everything#louis tomlinson#one direction#I know this shit was long#i have so many opinions#and then theres me
27 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Art Behind Manipulating & Guarding a Fandom (p. II)
Here it’s the second part guys, take time to analyse it...
NOTE: *Most of the posts I direct you to, are SHORT & in my opinion not too dense to read. In fact, the great majority are Q&As. I’ll identified every post with a letter, it means that throughout the various parts you’ll see them repeated, so no need to read one twice*
If you missed or want to re-read the first part here it is: The Art Behind Manipulating & Guarding a Fandom (p. I) – decoding1432.
Now, the astroturfers & how to identify them.
I would say that identifying some astroturfers with exactitude is very hard to do, I mean we are talking about professionals. Not even the directioners who have spent years dealing with them are able to fully assure when they are being invaded by some. Nevertheless they have learned to recognise them & some types are obvious.
*link A*
Basing it on an article by The Consumerist, astroturfers are primarily known for two things:
Vague or anonymous identities. The identities of the people, or group of people, are very minimal or completely anonymous. Their profiles would either be generic, unorganised or have few or no posts. If you’re tech savvy and use tools such as Statcounter, you might notice that they frequent certain pages that cater to certain topics and/or suspicious recurring IP addresses.
A specific discussion path is followed/repeatedly brought up. Since one of the main goals of astroturfing is to support one side and discredit another, most astroturfers usually follow a certain discussion path,
ie. Opening -> Segue -> Main Topic Being Pushed
I’ll be using their examples to show you. I’m sure Camren blogs will be like: “relatable”. A lot of shipping involved. Try to exchange “Larry” for “Camren” & “Ziam” for another ship– Laucy, Norminah, Tyren, whatever you want– I promise it won’t become tedious (I’ll keep it the OG way, to avoid confusions). Here I present you what could be the various types of astroturfers (a.k.a. sneaky little bitches):
Example 1: *link E*
“You astroturfing trotters with your generic anti messages are such a fail. If you really read this blog you would also know I don’t “ship”. Never have. I support two couples I believe have been harshly closeted. Why would that upset anyone? Even if you disagree, I’m all about the love baby. I’m all about consenting adults being able to love each other openly, happily and free from hate and discrimination. What kind of a monster takes issue with that? You can ponder that while you lick your wounds and trot to the next blog to spread your venom. You’re a real credit to humanity making excellent use of your time”
As I see it, our first specimen is the aggressive type. During my research, I found several bloggers talking about this kind of astroturfer. Apparently, it’s a very common one & usually driven by hostility but SOMETIMES WITHOUT BEING RUDE. Pay attention to the description below:
*link F*
“I follow a bunch of Ziam blogs, and I heard talk about aggressive Ziam astroturfing of two kinds: (1) asking for masterposts and analyses, and (2) asking very specific factual questions. I talked with that-regular-chick about it, and she described it like this:
“…today we chatted and realized we all got very specific asks from the same “dummy” tumblr account: REDACTED. This account hit at least four of us in the past day. Each time they asked for our analysis and masterposts. Friday, I was blitzed with anon asks about Ziam, Zerrie and Sophiam. Initially, I was answering. But as I progressed through my Inbox, I noticed a pattern: careful not to offend so they throw some false praise in, a few “xx” or sometimes “thank you”. Always very specific about what they want know. Several claimed they were new to the fandom. I got so many, I felt they were really being aggressive and definitely had an agenda.”
Personally I tend to receive these type of anons on a daily basis. I would consider it’s the hardest one to recognise since I understand there are fans out there who tend to be very gentle when asking & simply with the purpose to learn & no one wants to be disrespectful toward any anon when answering, right? Nonetheless this is an advantage they take to camouflage. Note also how that-regular-chick said, ironically enough, the aggressive astroturfer is careful not to offend. Nonetheless I’m also aware that at times there are pretty intense anons which break that pattern of softness & jump straight ahead into using a harsh approach like the one shown in the first pic. Just look at the way that-regular-chick clarified she’s a victim as well despite not being about shipping. I know most Camren blogs get the infamous “why do you assume someone else’s sexuality when it’s none of your business… SO ANNOYING OMG” anon. Well now you know it’s an anti message mainly seeking for you to stop. Since now it’s all about killing Camren no wonder why we’ve seen many of these lately.
Example 2: *link G*
“Both my suspected astroturfers have responded, and their messages are overlapping under the two different URLs in question. And neither likes to use capitalization, coincidentally enough. And if you can’t send asks under your sideblog, why not just change the settings? Also, why is your main blog hella inactive? And why do you think you need a blog to lurk on tumblr? So many questions…”
Our next kind, is the non-anon type. These shameless astroturfers couldn’t bother less in going unnoticed.
Not all of these are about not using capitalization, this ultimate aspect is a pattern the blogger found in that particular case. Here are a few elements you could lean on to identify them:
*link H* (THIS LINK IT’S NECESSARY TO BE OPENED .IT SPEAKS ABOUT FANDOMS MONITORING IN GENERAL. Apparently t’s explained by an insider the directioners had contact with but I’ll address this with more detail almost by the end. If you want to read it now, by all means go ahead.)
“The best way that I’ve seen to get a handle on tumblr is to set up what basically amount to burner accounts. You create a tumblr account with an unassuming username and do nothing to the actual account. You leave the layout at default, don’t change the icon, don’t make posts, and don’t reblog or favourite anything. But you use the account to follow the blogs that control the conversation in whatever fandom you’re trying to monitor.”
Funnily enough, I was followed by a burner account (or maybe more but I did spot one) in the past 24 hours, LOL:
Example 3: *link I*
“People also ask questions they could easily google, like what's Zayn’s Instagram? I mean, you can google that faster than I can answer you. LOL”
Our third type, is the lazy astroturfer. I believe this one is pretty self-explanatory. The description provided is more than sufficient. Characterised by a lethargic tone & vibe.
Another example I could add is: “What is Dinah’s full name?” It’s the first thing I came up with since it’s something you can type in the google searcher… Besides a fan knows DJ’s full name it by heart, right? Lol
You might be wondering, why would they send these type of generic questions, why do they obtain with a generic answer. Well they come with three different objectives, it depends: Either gathering information or steering the conversation or merely keeping an eye on the blog (as in fan engagement).
Example 4: *link J*
I would classify this astroturfer as the… the Inception type, maybe? Excuse me, I’m getting Inception teas here (fun fact: Inception is my favourite film lol). As I understand an idea is put on a target (blog) by this specialised team (astroturfers) just like in the movie. Here I leave you a scene of the film to illustrate it better, min 1:05- 1:32 :
youtube
Saito (Ken Watanabe): If you can steal an idea from someone’s mind why can’t you plant one there instead?
Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt): Here’s me planning an idea in your head, I say to you, don’t think about elephants, what do you think about?
Saito: Elephants
Arthur: Right but it’s not your idea, because you know I gave it to you. The subject’s mind can always trace the genesis of the idea. True inspiration is impossible to fake--
Cobb (Leo DiCaprio): *interrupting Arthur* It’s not true.
What we can appreciate in the scene is how DiCaprio contradicts Levitt’s statement of how the subject can’t remember the origin the thought seeded. As I understand this example of astroturfing works like this. The target will not be able to remember where the original question came from since it’s supposed to be passed to others. If I put into perspective this is the way I imagine the original OT4s & Cnizers were created. A constant brainwash pulled by the same negative comments, to an extent that they can’t tell who were the first accounts that influenced them. “The virus got to them & they’re spreading it”.
Example 5: *link K*
Blind astroturfing. How many times we’ve seen repeated questions on another blog? Or from one day to another? Or when we just answer the same thing a couple of asks ago?
Example 6: (if I were you I wouldn’t bother in opening this link since the rest is about their timeline & I didn’t understand what they were talking about but if anyone is curious enough *link L* )
“astroturfing anons will usually give us a heads up that something is coming down the pipe too (that happened with haige 2.0 - people got anons about her for weeks and then she popped up again in her weird mainly one sided stunt with harry). it happened again with babygate but none of us wanted to believe it.”
This is a very weird but not entirely foreign type. If I can call it the “physic” astroturfer. Raise your hand if you have received the “next month (x ) will do (x) thing… bla, bla, bla” sort of message in your inbox more than once? Yep. I see several hands raised in the back lol. It doesn’t mean all it’s necessarily fake, like we saw with the 1D blogger above. BUT it doesn’t mean it’s ALL true either. Watch out for that.
Example 7: *link M* (IMPORTANT TO READ)
“It’s becoming harder for fans to hold onto the illusion that the internet is a secret club and that the management team of a multi-million dollar boyband that built on its success on social media wouldn’t be interested in what fans say on social media.
So it’s awfully funny that there are now anons popping up heavily dropping implications that if we talk openly about what we see on the internet, that management will punish the boys and it’ll all be ~our fault~ and so we need to shut up if we truly love the boys....
Guilt trips–everything is your fault and your responsibility, including the actions of the management and record companies with clear motive and power for their actions–are just another form of attempts at control and manipulation. 'Don’t you care about the boys? You don’t want to hurt them, so if you care about them you will protect them and shut up and say nothing’. That is emotional blackmail. Bullshit.”
When I read this the first time, I was not surprised that they would reach this level. In all seriousness, I had already thought about this. What if one day an anon pops into my inbox & claims the girls will get in trouble due to my “big mouth”? Let me tell you something *starts getting heated* if that happens in the nearest future, I’m going to send them right straight to hell. THAT IS UTTER BULLSHIT. I’m not allowing anyone to use my girls in order to bribe the fuck out of me & my blog. If anything it just proves the amount of manipulation they are willing to carry on in order to save & cover up their asses because they’re threatened. & I don’t want to have to say this ever again… Listen carefully, NOTHING WILL HAPPEN TO THE GIRLS BECAUSE OF US. So if anyone receives or has already gotten this type of anon, IGNORE THEM, BLOCK & MOVE ON.
Just look at the date that post was written: 2014… 3 years later & the directioners are still there. Hell, stronger than ever. We are NOT GOING TO TOLERATE THAT EMOTIONAL BLACKMAIL ON OUR TERRITORY. Their biggest weakness is seeing us fighting harder against them, let’s not give them the power & satisfaction of witnessing us falling one by one like dominoes.
Example 8: *link N*
This one seems slightly tricky to me. I don’t know if can be considered a “normal” example or standard in this list since it’s reversed-astroturfing but I’m taking the time to mention it, it’s important.
“...astroturfers infiltrate with the ultimate end goal of dumping stuff on us, and monitoring how we’d respond to it, whereas (real) shady anons infiltrate with the intention to /warn/ us of stuff they know we’d respond negatively to…
the fake ones are always so ominous, and “be ready” or whatever but the real ones are just straight to the point and cautious-sounding and it’s crazy because many things we’ve been warned about are literally things we probably shouldn’t even /know/, much less prepare for...”
I’m still trying to process this last one tbh. I interpret it as the astroturfers (the fake ones) test our reactions but we can tell it’s them because we get this feeling that something is wrong. On the other hand, the real shady anons are to direct with the way they approach, it’s like if they were slapping us in the face but without harming us because they know how are we going to respond. Is it clear? Cause I have to admit, I even confused myself…
Example 9: *link O* (& last example lol)
I’m not sure if we could classify the following as part of astroturfing exactly. I would consider so because it’s so similar & incredibly interesting the way these work that I had to include it:
“Plant blogs”. What is a plant blog? This is the name directioners have christened with those blogs that are sent by the team in order to plant seeds (info) with the purpose of spreading it & ultimately achieving their goal which could be to distract, separate or influence the fandom.
“it means that we believe her blog was ‘planted’ by someone behind the scenes working for/with the boys rather than being an organic blog run by a real fan.”
Not all plant blogs are poisonous since not all the people behind them have bad intentions. I know it’s hard to believe this latter but from what I was seeing the 1D fam had once a blog on their side educating them & never disrespecting or influencing them to hate on any of their boys:
*link P*
“yes a ‘plant’ blog in the way that we’re using the term would be someone who joins the fandom with a deliberate agenda.
in our case, the agenda was beneficial to us as we learned a lot (especially about image manipulation in the press and how to limit the effect of astroturfers on us/the fandom conversation).
there are also hypothetically negative plants whose main role and goal would be to gaslight the fandom from within and make us doubt ourselves/our own observations.”
So...
This were some examples that I consider we have already encountered in the past. I believe the list can continue to go on & on but we’re beginning to study this new concept. I guess with time the experience will shape the “astroturfy” messages adequately enough so we can recognise them with more ease.
Don’t worry, on Part 4 I will give you recommendations I found on how to deal with them...
DON’T BE NAIVE KIDS.
#astroturfing#this is how they monitor us#part three will be about their methodology#sneaky little bitches#stay woke#5h blogs#camren blogs#camila blogs#read & spread
176 notes
·
View notes
Text
Rolling Stone Breakdown
I read part of the article earlier today before work and I could already tell BS was simmering even before I got home and found out about all the over the top het stuff. Knowing this ahead of time, I’m going to go ahead and take notes / rant back at the article as I read it.
BS 101: Intro to BS
paragraph 1: wow this person really wanted to be a bad fanfic writer, but they got stuck at Rolling Stone instead
I’m being petty with this, but just use “One Direction” fully if you’re going to go to the trouble of typing out “One D” instead of “1D”
“he became a canvas onto which many of fans pitched their hopes and dreams” because all fans of boybands (i.e. girls) dream about is romance and that’s the only reason they’re fans, ALSO media like Rolling Stone had nothing to do with Harry being a blank canvas for people to project their image of him onto (*sarcasm)
every mention of After, even a vague one, is -5000 points, every time it’s mentioned normally and not as the dangerous misrepresentation of abuse it is, is -5,000,000 points, every time someone crosses the line by a light-year and talks about it directly to Harry is -5,000,000,000 points, I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them
“a song cycle about women and relationships”, *cough*womanizer BS*cough, ALSO the first single Sign of the Times is clear social commentary with no real (read: not forced to fit that interpretation) hint of romance in sight, so...?
“more of a rock sound”, still pretending that 1D’s last 3 albums never existed
Harry wants his music to be “honest”, now where have we heard that before? Niall, Louis, Zayn with Liam probably soon to follow. It’s almost like they’ve been held forcibly quiet under a gag order...
I’m trying to figure out how I’m supposed to take the comment that Harry “runs every yellow light” and apply it to his persona, I’m stumped (also, you can’t run a yellow btw)
“the album no one has heard is burning a hole in his iPhone”, chill the fuck out with the italics, I know everyone else has talked about that, but you haven’t even mentioned the secrecy around his album in your article so you have no reason to randomly italicize things
Hiatus
“there was another One D member to vector questions into a charmingly evasive display of band camaraderie”, fuck you and your ever so sly implications that the boys’ closeness was manufactured and that the boys never answering anything interesting had to do with the band rather than interviewers incessantly asking the same vapid questions
“It was in a London studio in late 2014 that Styles first brought up the idea of One Direction taking a break”, as @paynoisbatman already pointed out, this timeline of the hiatus makes no sense with the timing of Zayn “quitting”, also it’s inconsistent with the way the boys denied the first round of hiatus articles in June 2015
just to be clear, they probably DID know about the hiatus ahead of time and they WERE lying when they denied the upcoming hiatus in June, and that also means that there’s no reason Zayn should have jumped the gun so close to the finish line (yay mixed metaphors!), I’m just pointing out the story is inconsistent, so all of these things can’t be true
“If you’re shortsighted, you can think, 'Let’s just keep touring,’ but we all thought too much of the group than to let that happen. You realize you’re exhausted and you don’t want to drain people’s belief in you.” <- This is pure 100% lovely, insightful, well spoken Harry
I’d also like to point out that them first discussing it in 2014 means that Harry’s comment about “we all thought too much of the group” applies to all 5
“I love the band, and would never rule out anything in the future. The band changed my life, gave me everything.” I’d like to point out that they always phrase these quotes to sound like past tense, like the band is broken up as of now, when in reality he’s saying that not only will they come back after the hiatus but that he’s in this band for life
“and not just have it be ‘Here’s a demo I wrote.’” you have that chance Harry! Release the finished version of Don’t Let Me Go Harry!
“Every decision I’ve made since I was 16 was made in a democracy.” I feel like someone misspelled “was a rebellion under Simon Cowell and Co’s dictatorship”
Pretentious Character Work or Work on Building Pretentious Character? Ah, got it: Pretentious Work on Building Pretentious Character
“As one of the most well-known 23-year-olds in the world, Styles himself is still largely unknown” not if you’ve actually paid attention over the last 6 years? I mean yes, always to some extent, but it’s not like this insightful, loving dork is a dark mystery
“He looks at my digital recorder like a barely invited guest.” learn to choose useful metaphors and stop being pretentious
dude, I know you did this on purpose, but you said that “Behind the effervescent stage persona, there is more lore than fact. He likes it that way.” and then put the quote about Prince’s artist draw being his mystery right after, making it seem like he that was his reason for wanting to be mysterious, then you quoted “It’s not about trying to make my career longer, like I’m trying to be this 'mysterious character,’ because I’m not.” which directly contradicts the connection you drew with your words, AKA you knew it was BS and made it seem connected anyway
“The pool cleaner looks perplexed, not quite sharing Styles’ existential joy.” there’s nothing existential about it, it’s just a smile, he’s just being nice to people he passes like a good human being, I’m sorry if you don’t know what that looks like
“It’s obvious that the band has a well-worn frat-house dynamic”, do you actually know what you’re talking about or are you going off of stereotypes? if you’re calling it a “frat” and were in a fraternity, your frat was probably stereotypical anyway
“Styles is, to all, ‘H.’” It’s a fricking nickname that his fricking boybandmates also use, not a commentary on his position as the benign and worshipped leader of the Jamaican band cult frat you apparently think formed
“Pomegranate-scented candles flicker around the room.” this I definitely believe, but did you recognize the pomegranate smell right away or specifically look at a candle to find out what it was?
“It was Styles’ first full immersion into the land of musos” I need that staring into the camera Office gif
Music Ideology
“Most of the stuff that hurts me about what’s going on at the moment is not politics, it’s fundamentals,” Styles says. “Equal rights. For everyone, all races, sexes, everything. …” this is a very interesting thing to randomly bring into a conversation without asking, unlike the rest of the article, this bit aligns with Harry’s rainbows in the pics, at SNL, and out and about with fans
“The song is written from a point of view as if a mother was giving birth to a child and there’s a complication.” No, uh-uh, I like the idea personally , but Harry has said ever since MITAM and maybe before that he likes people to be able to have their own interpretation, he said it in interviews about SOTT recently too, I’m not at all convinced Harry wanted to actually share the official story of what the song means, it flies in the face of his philosophy about song interpretation
“The lyrics are full of details and references – secrets whispered between friends, doomed declarations of love, empty swimming pools – sure to set fans scrambling for the facts behind the mystery.” the fact that you put this right after Ever Since New York is laughable, that is a solid contender for the vaguest lyrics that couldn’t possibly be accurately paired up with details of Harry’s life, but you want people to think it’s about Haylor, don’t you
“I’m happy I found this band and these musicians, where you can be vulnerable enough to put yourself out there.” this one is hard because I can see Harry being grateful for a good group of people to write with, but I also don’t believe the implications that he’s never been vulnerable in his writing before or that he couldn’t be vulnerable with his boyband, both are BS, I’m going to say it’s probably a real quote but with suggestive framing
“The album is a distinct departure from the dance pop that permeates the airwaves.” can people please stop pretending that music hasn’t sounded vaguely 70′s and 80′s-ish for the last 4-5 years?
“It’s different from what you’d expect,” Bhasker says. “It made me realize the Harry [in One D] was kind of the digitized Harry. Almost like a character. I don’t think people know a lot of the sides of him that are on this album.” such. utter. BS. Fans know Harry. the general public only doesn’t know him because MEDIA LIKE ROLLING STONE created that “digitized Harry” that’s “like a character”
“Asked if he spends pressure-filled evenings worried about proving credibility to an older crowd, Styles grows animated.” of course he does, sweet child of man that he is, he jumps at the chance to educate heathens like you about the wonderful world of being a decent human being rather than a sexist prick
1D and Zayn
“He’s not a heavy drinker, he says, maybe some tequila on ice or wine with friends after a show, but by the band’s last tour there wasn’t much time even for that.” Oh, ok, we’re still pretending that TMH wasn’t the craziest scheduled tour
“Styles and his phone have a bittersweet, mature relationship – they spend a lot of time apart. He doesn’t Google himself, and checks Twitter infrequently.” ah, but you forgot his lurking on Tumblr
“I mention a few of the verbal Molotov cocktails Zayn Malik has tossed at the band in recent interviews.” print interviews, all print interviews, because you put words in his mouth just like you're doing with Harry
“threading the needle of diplomacy” yeahhhh.... this is all BS, it’s made to sound neutral to make it seem like Harry is only being polite, whether Harry said these words or not, they’re not HIS words
More Pretentiousness
“Styles, born two months before Cobain exited Earth, doesn’t feel tied to any particular genre or era” funny since his 70′s image is being amped up to 11 for his solo debut
“In the car, he’ll just as easily crank up the country music of Keith Whitley as the esoteric blues-and-soul of Shuggie Otis” and now I know where the country bits of MITAM came from, I was wondering
“It’s like – that’s not how it works. I don’t even remember what the question was.” having “It’s quite small” flashbacks
“ ‘Could I get a selfie?’ Styles obliges, and leans over the counter. Click. We exit into the Laurel Canyon evening.” I’m sorry, I can’t stop laughing, but was the onomatopoeia really that necessary?
“River Phoenix,” the man announces, a little sadly. “You ever heard of him? If he hadn’t have passed, I would have said that was you. Talented guy.” sadness, River Phoenix really was such a talented young man, a very worthwhile person based on the roots of his problems too
The Obligatory Origin Story
They share a silent moment, before Styles walks to his car. He hands me the bag filled with English snacks. “This is for you,” he says. “This was my youth …” “Harry Edward Styles was born in Worcestershire, England” great transition dude, I’m sure that was completely organic
“But in fact, all was not perfection, scored to a cool, retro soundtrack.” but I thought it was!
“His eyes moisten a little, but unlike the young man who wept over an early bout with Internet criticism, a powerful moment in the early One Direction documentary A Year in the Making, Styles tonight knocks back the sentiment.” “look, he’s repressing his emotions, this is progress!” I wouldn’t make fun of this if he had phrased it as Harry being stronger or no longer caring about what other people think, but saying he “knock[ed] back the sentiment”?
“I’d gone because my mum told me I was good from singing in the car … but your mum tells you things to make you feel good, so you take it with a pinch of salt.” um... first of all, X-Factor flashbacks, second of all, Harry said that he’d always wanted to audition but had always been too young, so...
“and united the members of One D in a musical shotgun marriage” I’m keeping this imagery, it’s mine, no one can take it away from me now, no takebacksies
Ben Winston Earns His Tag On My Blog
“ ‘Family,’ answers Ben Winston.” who is not Harry’s family
look, I actually think Harry and Niall and maybe the others actually have a friendship with Ben, I can’t understand why, though, when he always participates in BS like this, I will never forgive him for the Livestream of Doom/FOUR Hangout
“There is more chance of me going to Mars next week than there is of Harry having some sort of addiction.” Why are we so focused on Harry not being a drug addict? He’s not, there aren’t even rumors he is, ok, don’t need to talk about it, moving on.
Styles had just moved out of his family home in Cheshire, an inconvenient three hours north of London. He found a home he liked near the Winstons in Hampstead Heath. wtf? revisionist history much? forgetting all 5 boys lived in the same complex right after moving to London much?
“ He became a friendly mentor to Styles, though the friendship was soon tested... Styles asked if he could briefly move in with Winston and his wife, Meredith. She agreed,” Winston says, “but only for two weeks.”... For the next 20 months, one of the most desired stars on the planet slept on a small mattress in an attic.” this is not Harry, Harry would not move in for 20 months after asking for 2 weeks, if he did he would make sure it was ok, if he made sure it was ok, you shouldn’t be talking about it and essentially badmouthing him to the press
also, can we talk about “one of the world’s most desired stars” because as we’ve all talked about before, Harry was 17/18 and being hypersexualized in the press and this is not ok
Winston continues the tales from the attic. “So we had this joke. Meri and I would like to see the girls that you would come back with to the house. That was always what we enjoyed, because we’d be in bed like an old couple. We’d have our spot cream on our faces and we’d be in our pajamas and the door would go off. The stairwell was right outside our door, so we’d wait to see if Harry was coming home alone or with people... He wasn’t always alone,” corrects Winston, “but it was exciting seeing the array of A-listers that would come up and sleep in the attic. het BS *yawn* *snore*
The subject today is relationships. While Styles says he still feels like a newcomer to all that, a handful of love affairs have deeply affected him. The images and stolen moments tumble extravagantly through the new songs: And promises are broken like a stitch is … I got splinters in my knuckles crawling 'cross the floor/Couldn’t take you home to mother in a skirt that short/But I think that’s what I like about it … I see you gave him my old T-shirt, more of what was once mine … That black notebook, you sense, is filled with this stuff. het BS *yawn* *snore*, I’m really going to need to hear these songs for myself, they better not have fucked with his material, the consolation about Zayn’s album was that at least the music and lyrics were unquestionably his
More Specific Het!Harry BS
The relationship is a subject he’s famously avoided discussing. “I gotta pee first. This might be a long one,” he says. He rises to head to the bathroom, then adds, “Actually, you can say, 'He went for a pee and never came back.' ” you think he was being funny, but he really really wasn’t, are you sure he came back? I don’t think he did, I think everything after the bathroom was utter BS
“When I see photos from that day,” he says, “I think: Relationships are hard, at any age. And adding in that you don’t really understand exactly how it works when you’re 18, trying to navigate all that stuff didn’t make it easier. I mean, you’re a little bit awkward to begin with. You’re on a date with someone you really like. It should be that simple, right? It was a learning experience for sure. But at the heart of it – I just wanted it to be a normal date.” ok, maybe not such BS since he’s as vague and general as you can get in the vast majority of this quote, so he’s saying that when he looks at pictures of himself with Taylor, he thinks how he wanted it to be a normal date with Louis, got it
yada yada yada, Harry being way nicer than he should have to be about his name being used by someone who abused his reputation for her own gain, par for the course
I like tipping a hat to the time together. You’re celebrating the fact it was powerful and made you feel something, rather than 'this didn’t work out, and that’s bad.’ huh, this seems like subtle shade to me since one of my biggest complaints is how nearly all her songs are negative, put the blame on the guy, and don’t have her taking any responsibility (even if they are fake relationships)
He notes a more recent relationship, possibly over now, but significant for the past few years. (Styles has often been spotted with Kendall Jenner, but he won’t confirm that’s who he’s talking about.) it was made abundantly clear that even if you believe the narrative, Harry and Kendall are not currently together, yeesh!
“She’s a huge part of the album,” says Styles. “Sometimes you want to tip the hat, and sometimes you just want to give them the whole cap … and hope they know it’s just for them.” mm, nope, still BS, alternatively a quote taken out of context and not about Kendall or even romance at all
Actual Solo Stuff
“Some of the stuff they’re doing in this movie is insane. And it was hard, man, physically really tough, but I love acting. I love playing someone else. I’d sleep really well at night, then get up and continue drowning.” ok, that was clever, good on you Harry
It was the perfect rite of passage for a musician looking to explode the past and launch a future. I thought we agreed that Harry has no issue with his past in a boyband? can you please remember what you already wrote in your own article
He didn’t feel stifled in One D, he says, as much as interrupted. you bet your ass he did, him and Zayn and Niall, interrupting clueless and/or asshole interviewers all day long (I’m sure Louis and Liam have/will do too, just haven’t had the chance yet)
There are songs from that period he loves, he says, like “Olivia” and “Stockholm Syndrome,” along with the earlier song “Happily.” #confirmed
“But I think it was tough to really delve in and find out who you are as a writer when you’re just kind of dipping your toe each time. We didn’t get the six months to see what kind of shit you can work with. To have time to live with a song, see what you love as a fan, chip at it, hone it and go for that” funny that, sounds like someone forced them into a breakneck schedule and then later made big noises about how their hiatus was because they were so overworked and acted like he had nothing to do with that
Ending
To wind down in Jamaica, Styles and Rowland, the guitarist, began a daily Netflix obsession with sugary romantic comedies. Houseworkers would sometimes leave at night and return the next morning to see Styles blearily removing himself from a long string of rom-coms. He declares himself an expert on Nicholas Sparks, whom he now calls “Nicky Spee.” sounds about right for the guy whose favorite movie is Love Actually
Like the time Styles ended up drunk and wet from the ocean, toasting everybody, wearing a dress he’d traded with someone’s girlfriend. yep, sounds about right
oops, fanfic writer made a full return for this paragraph all in present tense, written by someone else as if Harry’s a fictional character
“I think, as a parent, especially with the band stuff, it was such a roller coaster,” he says. “I feel like they were always thinking, 'OK, this ride could stop at any point and we’re going to have to be there when it does.’ this is the second time he’s brought up roller coasters in his solo interviews, it’s a good description for the thing he’s talking about, but I can’t help but think of Zayn’s old Twitter bio and Anne tweeting that bio not long after March 25th
He grabs his black notebook and turns back for a moment before disappearing down the hallway, into the future. I need the Office gif again
“How am I going to be mysterious,” he asks, only half-joking, “when I’ve been this honest with you?” *sarcasm
#one direction#1d#harry styles#solo harry#rolling stone#bakagamieru#speculation#more of an interpretation really#bearding#media#ben winston is an ass
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
And My Heart Is A Hollow Plain~ VIII
Its the 1600s and all Louis wants is the freedom he knows he will never taste again.
He knew happiness, knew a good life and love. Had dreams and reasons to see the good in people, to expect good things from life.
Forced into a marriage he will never get out of, all he’s looking for is a breath of life. Maybe something or someone to come save him from the hell he knows.
~VIII
“It’s a simple cold, but with the pregnancy his body can’t fight it as well as it would if he wasn’t expecting.” The doctor informed them, seeing the relief on Harry’s face as he held onto Louis’ hand where he was sitting next to him on the bed.
“Do you think my child is okay?” Harry asked, knowing the doctor wouldn’t talk to his father about him and Louis.
“It is moving as it should and Louis is big enough like he should. I say he or she is in good condition.” The doctor assured him as he smiled, “Are you going to tell your father soon?” He asked him.
“Tonight after Louis and his friends move in with me.” Harry nodded, looking Lucy’s way who was busy packing Louis’ stuff, “And if he doesn’t accept him and my child then I guess he’ll be the last of the Styles to rule over England.” Harry said, having decided that no one, not even his father will keep him from being with Louis and their child as he looked at a sleeping Louis, running his fingers through his soft hair.
“I know Des and your mother have been dying for a grandchild. Sure, the circumstances are different but you’re intending to marry him. That child will be born under that marriage and will have a right to the throne once the time comes. I’ve known Des since we were very little and I know that if you approach him the right way then he won’t deny you anything.” The doctor said, placing his hand on Harry’s shoulder, then pulled it back to gather his things.
A few minutes later he was out the door leaving the house soon after with Zayn who offered to accompany him back to the palace now that Harry will be leaving with the rest. Harry let Louis rest a bit more before he had to absolutely wake him up, and instead watched Lucy finish what she was doing before she excused herself to go pack her stuff and let Liam know who no doubt will go wherever Louis went.
“Harry?” Louis woke up almost half an hour later, looking around the room until he spotted him by the window looking outside.
“I’m here.” Harry rushed to his side, taking a seat next to him, furrowing his brow when Louis only stared at him, his blue eyes searching for something in his that he couldn’t decipher until Louis spoke up completely surprising him.
“That night I waited for you to come back, I wanted to tell you I had changed my mind but you never did. Then I went looking for you and when I saw you I followed you hoping you’ll still want me...I guess you don’t anymore. I was too late, wasn’t I?” Louis looked down, tracing circles on the bedsheet with his index finger.
“No.” Harry answered, catching Louis’ attention who looked up at him, “I still want to marry you, I was just giving you the space you needed before I decided when to approach you again.”
“I was scared, I didn’t want to end up the same way again. I- I didn’t want to go through the same hell again. There’s so many things you don’t know about me as I don’t about you. I wasn’t sure you were telling the truth.” Louis confessed as he looked around the room, sitting up when he saw his packed bags.
“I told Lucy to pack them for you. You’re coming with me, Kitten.” Harry said.
“W–What about Lucy and Liam? I’m not going to leave them behind.” Louis looked at him as he chewed on his bottom lip.
“They’re coming too and when we get there, you and I need to talk. I won’t keep any secrets from you.” Harry said, leaning down to kiss Louis’ forehead focusing on whether it was still warm or not, never seeing Louis blushing.
When Louis felt a bit better, Harry helped him up and helped him change into warmer clothes then led him outside to where a carriage was already waiting for them. He helped him into it then Lucy while a few guards loaded their bags in the back, and as soon as they were ready he and Liam as well as the many guards he had brought for protection got on their horses and started their journey. On the way there he couldn’t stop looking around the almost dark empty streets, making sure no one was lurking around afraid of something happening to Louis and their child.
When they got to the palace Liam didn’t say anything and instead helped carry Lucy’s bags inside while Harry carried a sleeping Louis who was too tired to see where he was. Liam and Lucy’s eyes widened when Harry offered them rooms right next to his, and when they insisted on sleeping in the servants quarters, Harry convinced them that they were his future husband’s friends and in that case also friends of his. He waited for the maids to put Louis’ things away with his in what was now their wardrobe, and when they were done he thanked them then went to lay down next to Louis rubbing small circles on his belly waking him up.
“Where am I?” Louis asked as he looked around with sleepy eyes.
“Home.” Harry answered, lifting his shirt up feeling the warm smooth skin on his fingertips.
“Home…” Louis repeated and seconds later smiled, snuggling closer to Harry, “What do you do? You must be close to the king to live like this.” Louis asked, seeing how luxurious everything was then frowned when he felt Harry stiffening next to him.
“I told you I wouldn’t keep secrets from you.” Harry slowly said.
“And I won’t either, I will tell you everything.” Louis said, then took a deep breath gathering enough courage to say what he needed to say, “I– I’m not in love with you right now, but I’m sure that with time I will. You’re everything I’ve always wanted.”
“As I’m sure I will fall in love with you some day, kitten.” Harry kissed the top of his head, glad that he was being honest. They weren’t in love yet but there was mutual attraction and affection, which was a good thing.
“So what do you do for a living?” Louis insisted, hearing Harry taking a deep breath. “Are you the king’s strongest knight or his advisor? Am I going to marry my very own knight in shining armor?” Louis giggled as he traced circles on Harry’s chest.
“He’s my father.” Harry blurted out, feeling Louis stopping what he was doing, “And our child, that baby we manage to create together, is second in line to the throne.” Harry finished, tightening his grip around Louis when he tried to get up.
“Your father will never allow you to marry someone like me, I- I’m not a royal and he won’t accept my baby because of me.” Louis started panicking, “I can’t marry you, I’m sorry.”
“If he doesn’t accept you and our baby then I guess we’ll have no choice but to pack our stuff and leave, build a little house in the countryside where we’ll raise our little one and many more. I’m not giving you up, Louis.” Harry said, set on not letting Louis go.
“I’ve always wanted that.” Louis smiled, remembering how Edward had promised him just that and he was finally getting it but with a different man, one he was sure he would come to love with all his heart.
“Anything for you.” Harry kissed him again, letting him go watching Louis sit in front of him with his legs under his bum seeing how excited he looked.
“I hope your father accepts me but if he doesn’t...if he doesn’t then we can leave and raise our children far away from here and I can ask Lucy to teach me how to cook so I can cook your and our children’s favorite meals. It will be perfect!” Louis happily told him, already imagining everything.
“I have to go talk to my father before he goes to bed.” Harry sat up, giving Louis a kiss on the lips, “Go to sleep, I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me so don’t wait for me.”
“Are you going to tell him why I got pregnant?” Louis shyly asked, suddenly feeling horrible realizing that he had forced Harry into it even though he had willingly fucked him all night long.
“Kitten...for our sake, I’m going to sugarcoat it just a little bit.” Harry said, quickly kissing Louis again when his eyes widened.
“We shouldn’t lie to him, he needs to know the full truth.” Louis insisted.
“Just let me handle it, kitten. Go to sleep.” Harry grabbed Louis’ dainty hands kissing each one then made Louis lay down on the soft bed and covered him so he would stay warm.
Harry left his bedroom soon after, heading straight to see his parents knowing that both his parents were still up and probably reading in their small reading room used exclusively by them. He knocked three times hearing a raspy come in then opened the door taking a deep breath as he did so.
King Des and his wife the queen Anne, were sitting together on a loveseat reading a book, each taking turns reading a passage having paused when they heard the knock. They looked at their son with pride in their eyes but soon turned into a frown when they noticed how nervous he was, which was something their son never showed.
“Son, is there something wrong?” Des asked, closing and putting the book on the little table in front of them.
“Darling, you look a little pale.” Anne quickly got up, checking to see if her son was running a fever, frowning when she found nothing wrong with him.
“I need to talk to both of you.” Harry said, wrapping an arm around his mother’s waist after kissing her cheek. He let her sit down back on her spot then took a seat on the chair in front of them getting ready to talk.
“Do you remember that trip I made to Doncaster a few months ago?” Harry asked them, then continued when they nodded, “Those men tricked us then tried to kill us, and Zayn got hurt…”
“We know son.” Des urged him when Harry completely stopped talking, wondering what his only son was hiding from them.
“What I didn’t tell you was that we got captured by a few guards when we hid in a house, turns out it was the home of the earl of Doncaster. He...He wanted us dead and he would have killed us if I hadn’t...” Harry paused to take a deep breath, making sure he was looking as distressed as ever. His future and Louis’ depended on how well he acted.
“Darling, you’re scaring me.” Anne tried to get up, but stopped when Harry started talking again.
“He was married to a boy seventeen years younger than him and had no children after many years of trying. He knew it was him who couldn’t have them and to make sure the title stayed in his family he...he forced me to bed his husband without the boy’s knowledge.” Harry confessed, seeing his mother covering her face with her hands mumbling things he couldn’t hear.
“Did he know who you were?” Des asked in a cold hard tone, making Harry shiver.
“No father, he didn’t care who I was or what I looked like as long as I did what he wanted me to do.” Harry lied.
“And the boy?” The king asked, “I know Lord Clark is dead, now tell me what happened to the boy.” He demanded.
“He’s...he’s expecting my first child.” Harry told them with a small smile on his face.
“Oh lord, no, this cannot be happening.” Anne started crying, feeling her husband’s arms around her.
“I’ve asked him to marry me and he accepted. Father, I’m not going to leave him and my child alone when it’s partly my fault he’s in this situation.” Harry got up from his spot to kneel down in front of his parents, taking both of their hands in his, “I can’t abandon them when I’m all they have.”
“How far along is he?” Des asked, already thinking of what the church would say.
“Six months..” Harry answered waiting for his father to say something.
“You’re making sure to keep your bloodline where it should be.” Des commented. “But the church won’t allow it.”
“To hell with church!” Harry exclaimed. He got up and started pacing back and forth in front of his parents, trying to think of something to convince them, to get their blessing.
“He is not a royal.” Des insisted. “He has been married already, and that child was conceived under nothing but sin.”
“And I am not a puppet for them to do with as they wish! He is the one I want to spend the rest of my life with, he’s carrying my first child out of many and I’m not going to give him up.” Harry stood in front of his parents, a dark look on his face. “If you and them can’t see that then I don’t see the point in staying here. I’m giving up my title as The Duke of Cambridge. We’ll be gone by morning. Now if you’ll excuse me.” He turned around and started walking towards the door.
“No! Please no!” Anne got up and ran to him, wrapping her arms around her son.
“Mother, please let go.” Harry tried to pry her arms off from around him. “Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.”
“Des, you can’t do this!” Anne glared at her husband with tears in her eyes. “That child is our grandchild and rightful heir to the throne. We can say they’ve been married for a while, that the child was conceived under their union. No one has to know and the church owes us many favors, they won’t deny us this.”
“Anne…” Des said through gritted teeth.
“Mother, please don’t beg him.” Harry turned around and wrapped his arms around his mother. “Louis and I will be fine and you’ll be able to see your grandchild whenever you want.”
“There won’t be an heir to the throne unless Gemma comes back from France, and we know that’s not possible.” Anne told her husband.
“But the church–”
“The church won’t stop me from leaving you.” Anne interrupted him.
Harry watched and wrapped an arm around his mother’s waist, waiting for his father to make a decision. He knew what it would be when his father looked away and refused to make eye contact.
“I will not allow this.” He said, and it was final.
“You’re always preaching about keeping your bloodline close, not everywhere!” Anne screamed, her face getting redder by the second. “You’re a liar just like church!”
“We’ll be gone soon, father.” Harry told him, unable to move when his mother once again wrapped her arms around him.
“I will be leaving with you, my child.” Anne announced. “Your Louis will need someone to keep him company, someone to help him through the birth. After all, it’s no easy thing.”
“Anne…”
“You made your choice, Desmond! I warned you.” Anne glared, and just like that she made her way to the wardrobe to start packing her things herself.
Harry looked at his father one more time before he walked out of there and made his way back to his bedroom. He found Louis sleeping soundly under the covers, and without waking him up, Harry made his way to the wardrobe to pack all of their things. He stopped halfway through it and walked out of there and knocked on Liam’s door. The man opened the door, still fully dressed but looking exhausted.
“Is there something wrong?” Liam asked.
“Get your things, we’re leaving in an hour. Please let Lucy know.” Harry told him.
“Why?” Liam asked, seeing Harry taking a deep breath.
“Father didn’t accept Louis and that I want to marry him so we’re leaving. I have a house my grandfather left me and it's out in the countryside, it will be our new home.” Harry told him.
Liam nodded and Harry left to go back to his bedroom to finish packing. He had a few guards carry all of their bags outside where two carriages were already waiting for them. The journey there was going to take them a full day and he wanted to be there by nighttime. He didn’t want to expose Louis and his mother to cold temperatures more than he had to. He was dreading having to wake Louis up again when the sun wasn’t even out yet but he had to.
He gently shook him and ran his fingers through his silky hair as he mumbled his name. Louis opened his blue eyes and Harry couldn't help but smile and find them beautiful. He hoped their child would inherit his future husband’s eyes.
“We have to go.” Harry told him, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
His heart ached when Louis’ face completely fell and tears filled his eyes. In that moment, he promised himself to do the impossible to always make Louis happy. Louis would never again shed a tear, except if they were out of happiness. He placed his hand on his cheek and kissed his head before wrapping his arms around him.
“Where would we go?” Louis cried against Harry’s chest.
“Don’t worry about that. I have a house and that’s where we will be staying.” Harry told him, furrowing his brow when Louis started shaking his head.
“I can’t let you give up everything for me. That would be selfish of me.” Louis pulled away from him.
“And it would be selfish of me to choose a title over you and our child. Louis, I want to be with you. Who cares about a crown, a title.” Harry said, sounding on the verge of begging.
“Just...please don’t hate me when you realize what you gave up to be with me.” Louis wrapped his arms around him and rested his head against his chest, feeling Harry’s hand rubbing his back.
“Never, darling.” Harry kissed the top of his head.
They were interrupted by a knock on the door and Louis sat up then scrambled out of the bed when the queen walked into the bedroom in all her glory. She was the most beautiful woman Louis had ever seen, worthy of being a queen. Her hair was down in waves cascading down her front and was wearing a thick expensive coat.
“Your majesty.” Louis was just about to bow when she stepped forward and offered her hand, smiling when Louis took it.
“He is beautiful.” She said to Harry, seeing Louis blushing.
Her eyes much like her son’s wandered down to Louis’ stomach, slowly lifting her hand up but stopping to look at Louis. “May I?” She asked.
Louis never thought he would be in the presence of the queen herself. The strong wise woman who reigned along her husband, the woman many looked up for her courage, fairness, and kindness. He nodded and soon her palm was against the side of his stomach. His child gave a hard kick, making the queen smile at the greeting.
“Your child is a strong one, my dear.” Anne said.
“He takes after his father.” Louis returned the smile, but it went away as soon as she raised her brows.
“He?” She asked.
“I–” Louis blushed. “I was hoping for a boy, your majesty.” He confessed.
“Call me Anne, dear.” She waved him off. “And whatever the lord decides to bless us with. My grandchild will be loved either way.”
Louis seemed surprised at the queen’s attitude when all his life he had been told over and over the importance of giving his husband a male firstborn. In the world he had grown up in, a male was worth more than a female. But if a male was born with the mark like Louis had, then his worth reduced to one of a female. Liam would always make sure to tell him he was worth it, but years of abuse had made Louis incapable of thinking like that. Sadly, with that mentality, he knew he had to give Harry a son. One with no mark. And if he didn’t, he would be considered unworthy of him..
“I’m sure Louis knows that, mother.” Harry smiled at his mother then Louis. “We should go, we have a long way to go and I don’t want to be out late at night.
“I’ll wait in the carriage.” Anne said, leaving soon after.
“You ready?” Harry asked Louis.
Louis only nodded and let Harry put a thick coat over him before the man wrapped his arm around his waist to help him down the long staircase. Louis made sure to hold on to the railing, feeling exhausted by the time they made it downstairs. Louis thought they would make it out with no problem, but that was before he saw a man standing by the front door. His aura was powerful and he wore the most expensive clothes, deemed for only the king himself.
His gaze lowered down to Louis’ belly, lingering for a few seconds before looking up. He let out a loud sigh and Louis’ felt his cheeks heating up with shame. Harry made an annoyed sound and pulled Louis closer to him, walking past his father without acknowledging him. He helped Louis into the carriage and seconds later Lucy climbed in as well with Harry’s help. Louis kept his gaze down, unable to look at the queen in the eyes, having noticed her sitting in front of him. He clung to Lucy and she let him rest his head against her shoulder so he could continue sleeping.
“You’re going to love the country house.” Anne spoke up, making Louis look at her. “Don’t let my husband make you feel ashamed.” She told him.
“I–” Louis looked down again, feeling Lucy tightening her hold on him.
“He’s a stubborn man, but soon he’ll get over it and end up asking us to go back.” Anne took off her gloves, then chuckled. “No heir has ever been born out of the palace. I would like to think Des will not allow our grandchild to be born in some town, in a place that is not their mother’s nest.”
Louis nodded obediently, biting his tongue when he wanted to tell her his child would be born in the home Harry had provided for him and their child. He ended up sleeping for most of the morning until the sun was rising high in the sky, that’s when they stopped and Harry opened the door.
“We’re stopping to eat something.” He informed them. “The place is a little run down, but it is clean. We’ll eat, rest and then continue.”
He helped his mother out, then Louis and finally Lucy who still wasn’t used to being near royalty. But her place was by Louis’ side no matter what, she and Liam had promised to look after him and his child. The place was exactly like Harry had described it, but the old woman serving them was the sweetest person Louis had ever met. She had owned the place along with her husband for years and to her, it was an honor to have them there.
Louis ate until he was full, having blushed when Harry started feeding him from his own plate. When they were done, they left after resting for an hour, but not before rewarding the couple. Soon dirty streets started turning into snowy valleys and for once, Louis felt happy to see them. He was finally going to start a new life with a good man he knew he was going to fall in love with soon.
When Harry told him about owning a country house, Louis thought he had meant a one story house, not the two story mansion standing in front of him. He was standing right next to Harry, a hand over his belly and the other holding Harry’s hand. His baby gave a few kicks and Louis smiled, placing Harry’s hand right where he had felt it. He knew Harry could feel their child when he smiled, dimples showing up full force. He blushed when Harry wrapped his arms around him and kissed the side of his head.
“This is where we’ll start our new life, my love.” Harry told him.
Louis’ eyes filled with tears and his heart with hope. For the second time in his life, he had hope.
#LouisTomlinson#Louis Tomlinson#HarryStyles#Harry Styles#LarryStylinson#Larry Stylinson#Bottom!Louis#Top!Harry#Pregnant!Louis#Mpreg#New Fic#NewFic
1 note
·
View note
Text
The Wrestling Optimist - March 9, 2017
For those newbies, this is my first in what I anticipate becoming roughly a weekly edition of my thoughts, from a mostly optimistic viewpoint, on the wonderful world of professional wrestling. I'm working my hardest to stop being such a miserable smark, and this column is my best effort at both keeping myself honest and funneling out the various thoughts I have on wrestling. For the most part, this will be a WWE-themed piece every week, and it's still evolving, but for now I think I've found a solid format.
Also, I typically intend for this to be a weekly column, but I was excited to try it out after Fast Lane (and really put my efforts at optimism to their most extreme test), so this particular column will only cover Raw, Smackdown Live, Talking Smack, 205 Live, and NXT.
Theme of the Week:
We really are in the fast lane to Mania.
The PPV may have left a lot of people a little displeased, but I think Raw and SDL did a nice job this week of building to the Jaws-like creature lurking in our midst, the reportedly 6.5 hour Wrestlemania now less than a month away. On Raw we got Y2J vs. KO, and the Women's Triple Threat officially booked, set up a possible Cruiserweight title match, while also getting Lesnar vs. Goldberg hyped, and Reigns vs. Taker hinted at with the subtlety of one of the Big Dog's Superman Punches. And the inevitable pre-show Tag title match will get clarity next week. That's an awful lot of productivity even for 3 hours.
Smackdown Live, not to be outdone, settled on Wyatt vs. Orton officially, made an intriguing Women's Championship free-for-all, kept the build on for the Mixed Tag, set conspiracy theory AJ Styles loose on Shane O'Mac, and hinted that we're going to get a hardcore type of Intercontinental Title match between Corbin and Ambrose.
The Mania card is now starkly visible, with the unknowns being whatever is happening with the Triple H/ Seth Rollins/ Samoa Joe/ Sami Zayn/ maybe Finn Balor storyline, whether Big Show vs. Shaq happens, how the poor SDL Tag division will be handled, which undercard guys will fill out the AMBAR, and then designating a few of these as pre-show.
For my own druthers, I mostly don't care how the card order stacks up, but I'm going to lose it if the Smackdown women end up on the Pre-Show as I fear they might. My girls Becky and Alexa deserve better than that.
10 Best Moments of the Week
Teasing the Phenomenal Forearm into the RKO Some day they are going to have Orton hit him with the RKO when going for either the forearm or the 450 and it's going to be the coolest thing since the Curb Stomp RKO, and I'm glad they clearly know how cool that is.
Heyman rushing out to address the CM Punk chants and halt whatever ill-fated improv Goldberg was about to attempt I'm not positive that Heyman was rushed out there early to cut off the Punk chants and prevent Goldberg from saying something that would only make the chants worse, but it certainly looked that way and it was another hilarious reminder of how little WWE can trust Goldberg to do pretty much anything.
The Miz motherfuckin' ETHERS John Cena I have nothing to add to his masterpiece. Go watch the SDL and Talking Smack segments.
FORK YOU! - I loved Baron Corbin pinning Dean Ambrose under a forklift. I'm always in for goofy prop fights, and there's always a place on the card for something like this at Mania. I hope this is how the match goes at Mania, a sometimes goofy, sometimes brutal street fight sort of affair. We know that Ambrose wanted the Mania match with Lesnar to go way too far last year but was rebuffed. Let him try this year with someone young and hungry like the Lone Wolf.
Austin Aries, the hero the Cruiserweight division needs Running Aries as the apparent face against Neville could be a weird fit in the long run, but I was all in for this segment on Raw. Aries is the outsized character the division needs right now to complement all the work Neville is doing and the better ring-work we've started seeing from guys like Tozawa and Swann.
The SAnitY and Dillinger story really comes together I don’t know about everyone else, but seeing Roddy get dragged out beaten half to death by the rest of the group, and seeing Tye and Jose get fired up about it, worked like hell for me. That awkward trio coming together against the heels was lacking something and this helped fill in the storyline, as did EY yelling “YOU DID THIS” at Tye. Good stuff.
As the Smackdown Women's Division Turns Becky gets turned on by a tag partner again (at this point I’m surprised Luke Sanders hasn’t turned on her), and Mickie at last turns on Alexa. Sometimes the easy story is the right one. If Naomi makes it back, she's pretty clearly going to win the title, but if not I really hope they have Becky overcome a whole Rogues gallery of heels to win (throw in Eva Marie and Carmella to really put it over the top). She's been turned on so many times that she needs the perseverance story.
For a night, the Part-Timers were booked well I'm as deeply skeptical as anyone that Raw can get me fully invested in a Lesnar/ Goldberg feud or an Undie/ Strong Roman feud, but credit where it's due, they did an excellent job on Raw this week. Goldberg eating an F5 was long overdue and I honestly wanted to see the whooping get worse.
TJP and Shinsuke dab on each other WWE spent a few headscratching months booking TJP after the Cruiserweight classic, but this was a fun match and felt like the right way to handle him, as a cocky, shitty, sorta heel who also does some seriously cool shit in the ring.
The way AJ Styles says, "Randy Orton burns down a man's house and gets rewarded for it!" I knew AJ was among the best in the ring prior to his WWE run, but his promos have been a wonderful surprise to me. He is a natural on the mic and has a goofy charisma, and for whatever reason I chuckled for a long time after he said this particular line.
Let the Smark Out
For as much as I’m trying to be an optimist, wrestling is not a perfect product. Far from it, really, and when you have problems with something, it’s healthy to let that sort of thing out. So, in the hopes of keeping a 5:1 ratio tilted toward the good side, here are my two complaints of the week:
Are we seriously doing this with Emma again? She was in such a good place as Evil Emma with the half-gloves and the shoulder pads. Given how shallow the Raw Women’s division is, why did they feel the need to screw around with something that was working????
I’ve known for weeks that the Styles/ Shane O’Mac feud was coming, but now that it’s here, it hurts even more. There is obvious proof on the roster in multiple forms that you only get so many Wrestlemania’s out of your top workers (like Balor and Rollins both being potentially on the shelf for this year after not being on last year’s card either). To use up one of those years for Styles, unquestionably the best in-ring performer in the company, and probably the world, is asinine. I know there is no bigger honor in WWE eyes than to fight against a McMahon (and I strongly suspect we’re heading toward either a Bayley or Sasha vs. Stephanie program in the next year), but I have no interest in seeing AJ selling for ol’ Baby Jabs McMahon.
Let’s Rank Stuff!
One of the best things to do as a wrestling fan is to compare things. Who's on the Mount Rushmore of wrestling? Who was the most over with the crowd? Who's the best in-ring worker? What's the most uncomfortable Attitude Era storyline in retrospect? That's what I'm going to do here every week, pick a topic and rank it as I see it. Feel free to chime in with your own thoughts! I'd love to hear them.
This week's ranking: The Status of the Championship Belts
It's been almost 8 months since the Brand Split, which saw WWE add a whopping 4 title belts to their company (and a fifth in the UK Title even more recently) and with Wrestlemania approaching, I thought now would be a fun time to rank those titles in terms of their current level of prestige. Keep in mind the old adage about the wrestler making the belt, not the other way around. So without further ado, in reverse order:
13. UK Championship - Too young to be any higher. If Pete Dunne gets it, though, this thing could rocket up the list. That dude has incredible potential.
12 US Championship - Man what a precipitous fall. A short 18 months ago, Cena had made this thing into probably the second best belt in the company. But more recently it's been seen being dragged around by a disinterested Roman Reigns like he was worried that touching too much of it might infect him with some terrible disease. The good news is that I can see KO winning this at 'Mania and proudly defending it, not because it represents America or anything, but because KO is convinced anything he has is just the best.
11 Smackdown Tag Team Championships - Another letdown since the brand split. Slater/ Rhyno was fun, but American Alpha is surprisingly struggling right now.
10 Raw Tag Team Championships - The shenanigans required to get New Day to the tag title record didn't help anyone, and now I can't help but view The Club as utterly inconsequential. Tag team wrestling on the main roster is in a bad way right now. Thankfully, there's hope on the horizon if WWE is smart enough to realize it.
9 Cruiserweight Championship - Talk about the wrestler making the belt. Putting this thing on Neville was the step that was badly needed to salvage this belt and the entire division.
8 Smackdown Women's Championship - This division has done wonders in terms of drawing out depth and giving its characters chances, but it's in need of some excellent, or rather Bex-cellent, wrestling and something memorable. I think maybe they missed an opportunity not having Becky and Nikki fight for this at some point. Face vs. Face can be tricky, but these two could have done it, it would have given more prestige to the belt and now rumors are Nikki may be on her way out. That’s a seriously missed opportunity if so.
7 WWE Universal Championship - Yikes. I was closer to putting this thing 8th than moving it higher. It's impressively ugly, KO's title run was consistently neutered, and now Dadberg is drenching it in sweat for the next few weeks before Lesnar takes it from him at Mania and promptly disappears for a few months. If we do this ranking again in June, this belt might be 13th.
6 NXT Women's Championship - Asuka is obviously great and the coming feud with Ember should be a lot of fun, as should Nikki Cross' pursuit, but the belt hasn't kept up with some of the others under the WWE umbrella. From where it was during Sasha/ Bayley, things have slipped a bit in part because no one legitimate has come for Asuka. Yet.
5 NXT Tag Team Championships - Several of the best matches of 2016 were contested for this belt, and honestly I feel like it should be higher. I just couldn't quite bring myself to pull the trigger. That said, there's no shame in being 5th and the sole beacon of light for tag team wrestling in WWE.
4 Raw Women's Championship - I didn't love the hot potato of the belt, same as most people, and I loathe it when WWE starts talking about "making history," but this title is a very important one right now.
3 Intercontinental Championship - This likely would have been number 2 if I'd done this ranking in the fall thanks almost entirely to the Miz. Ambrose has been fine as champ since then thanks to his pedigree as a former WWE Champ, and if they are setting up Baron Corbin to win the title at Mania, that could be a great step toward both making a star and helping keep the belt relevant.
2 NXT Championship - One of the most impressive lineages of any championship belt in wrestling history right now. At times, it probably has surpassed even the WWE Championship itself. I'm curious to see how they handle Bobby Roode's reign after having one indy giant after another hold it for years on end. Obviously Roode is no slouch, but this does feel like an interesting point for the title.
1 WWE Championship - I'm glad they're back to just calling it the WWE Championship. That just sounds so much better than adding any sort of "world" modifier to it. It's the franchise, the belt with all the history behind it, and that WWE itself even clearly tries to pay respect to, and this past year or so has only added to the legacy. Getting AJ Styles' name on the belt was great for everyone, Cena tied the record with it, and now Bray Wyatt, a character that WWE has always viewed as a long-term face of the company, is battling another all-time legend in Randy Orton at Wrestlemania for it. That's great stuff.
Match of the Week
This was supposed to be a column that covered everything after Fast Lane, but I have to give it up one more time for Neville vs. Jack Gallagher. That’s unquestionably the match of the week.
Where Do We Go From Here?
I sketched out a rough idea of the Mania card earlier in the column, but for the next few weeks I’m excited for the build. That’s where these matches are set up for memorable moments and big crowd pops or destined for failure. I covered the Triple H saga in this segment in the Fast Lane column, but I was surprised to see it not get a ton of attention on Raw this week. It’s starting to feel like WWE doesn’t even quite know what to do with it at this point.
If we get through this week’s Raw without some kind of stakes for Mania set for those two and the various other players in their drama, I’m going to start doubting whether the match is actually happening, and if maybe we’ll only get some kind of confrontation only at the show.
The Finisher
Big Show vs. Shaq would be kinda cool if it happens, but if it doesn’t, I hope they do Strowman vs. Show II. Strowman is ready for something more than winning the AMBAR, and Show deserves a reward for getting into such ridiculous shape. Plus, those two had low-key the most surprisingly fun match of 2017 so far, and you could do a lot worse than a ten minute hoss fight at Mania. Make it happen, WWE.
0 notes
Note
sometimes i'm afraid. afraid of the future, afraid of what could happen to the boys, afraid of the possibilities of the antis being right, that we spent years supporting two supposed couples for nothing. i'm afraid of what the boys are put through what they could be put through. i'm scared of all the stunts that haunt these boys. i'm afraid to just come home and log in to see pure drama. I wish I was strong as you ziams and larries because anxiety just makes me such a weak shipper/stan.
HI there!!!
Firstly, I’d just like to say that being concerned about someone’s well-being certainly doesn’t make you weak. It means you’re sympathetic and kind, and imo we need more of that everywhere.
And h o l y shit, I guess I had a lot of feelings about this, and then I typed them all out, because oh my stars, this got super long. So the rest is under the cut. I am very sorry! Please have an energy bar ready to replenish your essential nutrients when you’re finished reading.
It’s kind of funny you sent this ask now, because a few days ago, I somehow ended up going through blog posts from the S*phiam days. (LOL WHY, ME?) And it was a nice and queasy little reminder that things have always been pretty shitty on the fauxmance front. The big difference, as I see it, is the boys interacted regularly back then. So if Liam was all, “my girlfriend, Sophia Smith, is the most gorgeous girlfriend in the galaxy, and she’s my girlfriend, and her name is Sophia Smith, what a girlfriend she is, that Sophia Smith!” on Twitter one day, there’d be a 1D show or interview or something to offset that nonsense. We don’t have that now. We haven’t seen Liam and Zayn in the same place, at the same time, in almost *sobs* two *sobs* years. I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but I know I am a sad, withered plant.
So that was an unnecessarily wordy and very boring way of saying that your feelings are totally understandable. And it’s hard not to wonder if the stunts and secrets affect these boys negatively - how could they not? I can’t imagine the drain. But! That’s not their entire lives. They’re also surrounded by so much love and support. They have families and friends and significant others who are looking out for them. Careers that are already bursting with success and they’re about to thoroughly ruin our lives with new projects. I know sometimes it seems like it’s all bullshit, all the time, but I promise you, it’s not! Just repeat “solo albums, Dunkirk, Niall’s guitar” to yourself; that’s a balm for any weary soul.
Speaking of weary! If things are really stressing you out, I absolutely recommend a break. I think we’ve all been there. I’m pretty sure I went through the seven stages of grief re this Ch*am baby thing. And look, as much as I love these boys, it is so not worth becoming a person filled with dread. There’s already too much real stuff out there to be apprehensive about, you know? Distance can be good. (Before I caved and started this blog, I lurked for years; I’d pop into Tumblr a few times a week to catch up with my favorite Ziam/analysis blogs, then I’d go on my way. WHAT HALCYON DAYS.) But, if you’re not in the mood to pull back, may I suggest blacklisting? I am currently an unpaid spokesperson for blacklisting. IT IS THE BEST.
I do think it’s natural to have doubts, but to that end, I think it’s super important to go back and reassess your feelings on everything. Doing that has only made me more confident. (Not to mention it’s a wonderful excuse to watch those ILYSM videos again!) Also, I follow some really great blogs. I have an overload of conviction in my Ziam-riddled heart, but I can’t say it isn’t nice to get POVs from other bloggers. The analysis side of this fandom is filled with some of the sharpest, most incisive people, and I’m impressed by them on the daily. (Plus they’re always up for a laugh when something ridiculous happens, which helps, trust me.)
Here’s the thing: I’m not sure we’ll ever know the actual truth of it all. And that’s fine with me; it’s not my truth to tell. The boys are not obligated to share any part of themselves with anyone, ever, and there is so much about their lives we don’t see. But, as far as Ziam goes, there’s just too much that can’t be easily explained away, and that’s why I haven’t wavered on them, no matter what. If antis feel differently, that’s cool. Everyone’s entitled to their wrong opinion. (I’M JUST KIDDING, ANTIS. JOKES!) Regardless, I don’t think any of this has been a waste. I’ve learned a ton, had a lot of laughs, listened to some great tunes, seen Liam dry hump Zayn backstage at their own concert, all fabulous things to keep in my back pocket!
I’m hopeful things will get better; that someday the boys will all have more control of their lives and careers. I’m hopeful we’ll see them together again. I know they’ll put out new music that will set me ablaze. And that’s the stuff that keeps me going. I hope it helps you a little, too. :)
(Sorry this was longer than anything I wrote in college.)
#LOL OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED THIS IS SO LONG#I can't believe I had my own therapy session during this ask I'm so sorry anon#I hope it isn't a total mess and I hope you're feeling better today#anon#answered asks
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
aish-rai
and the rest is rust and stardust
kyu-ura
Q-ura
thepaperquillco
The Paper Quill Co
pearlsofhope
PEARLS of HOPE
fairykazu
vidia