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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years

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I Still Want You, I Still Need You--VII. A Chance (NSFW)

Word Count: 4510

About: A few years have passed and you have adjusted to motherhood. Steve and Tony pay you a visit. You and Steve talk about a moment you guys had.

Characters: Okoye, Olivia (OC), Steve, Tony, Pepper (Mentioned), M’Baku (Mentioned), Bucky (Implied Return)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings/Tragger Warnings: Language, Sexual Content (Unprotected-Wrap it before you tap it, Oral-F Receiving)

A/N: This part is bit long cause it’s full of details. Also who knew that about Steve?!

*This contains content meant for the 18 and up crowd. Read at your own discretion

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Marvel Tags: OPEN

Story Tags: @cspr-2 @mysticalfestivalkoala @tanyaherondale @lilithknight1111 @lpzallana @snlsamantha @tomisagod @gloriouspersonbanditrascal @buckysgirl101

Bucky/Sebastian Tags: OPEN

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VI. Hello, Sweet

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Four years came and went.

You fell naturally into motherhood. Olivia was a good baby. She slept well during the night unless she had been teething up a storm. Those days you drank all the coffee you could. There were days you had a hard time but Okoye was there to help out and so did Steve whenever he came by. Steve and you grew closer as he helped you with Olivia. You called him super Uncle. The love and adoration that was always on Steve’s face, made you feel like you can almost move on. But the idea always scared you.

Olivia was a smart kid. She was a Stark to a T. She got her hands on just about anything and would make things. And for an almost four year old, it was extremely impressive. Impressive that Tony would sent little building kits for her and she would get them done in a few days with your help. She had the attitude of a Stark but she had the heart of a Barnes. Just like Steve predicted.

Your daughter’s facial expressions were one hundred percent Bucky’s. The way smiles played on the corner of her little lips down to the way she expressed herself with her eyes. Her long hair remained dark as well as her blue eyes. She was a miniature version of Bucky. Steve even said that each time he came back to visit, Olivia looked more and more like him.

Olivia was the calm to the the storm you had been through.

She kept you from falling apart.

She kept you whole.

But yet, you never moved on from losing Bucky.

You walked into the lab to find Olivia in the same place you had left her. She obsessed over the erector set Tony sent her. Tony loved to spoil his niece, just like you loved to spoil yours. A few months after Tony and Peppers wedding, Pepper had become pregnant and shortly after Olivia was born, so was Morgan. Whenever you went to visit them, which was the only time you left Wakanda, the two girls were inseparable. It killed you and Tony to see them have to part ways.

“What are you building this time, bug?” you asked as you sat next to her. Her dark hair hung around her face. She had always refused to where hair bands unless it was to bed.

“A rower coatter,” Olivia’s face popped through the hair, a huge smile on her face. The smile took your breath away. “Can you picture it to Unca Twony?” She loved it when you sent her completed works to Tony. And Tony loved it too.

“Sure thing,” you leaned forward and kissed the top of her head. “How about this weekend we go see them? I’m sure Morgan and you can find something in Uncle Tony’s workshop.” Olivia’s eyes lit up when you said Morgan and workshop. When the two of you would visit, Tony and you would find the girls in Tony’s workshop. You had to convince him to make a small space for the girls since they were always found there.

You sat down at your work table and began to fumble with the scrap metal in front of you. You made it your mission to get cleaner and better filtered water to the Border Tribe after discovering their wells were either running dry or had harmful bacteria in them. It took you a week and a lot of using that Stark charm to get M’Baku to agree to your aqueduct like creation.

“All I need to do is come up with good design,” you whispered to yourself.

After an hour of fumbling and putting pieces together. You finally came up with the perfect example. Now, all you need to do is email Tony what you need.

After hitting send on your email, you looked up to see Okoye walk into the lab. Over the last few years, the two of you have grown closer and could count on each other. You trusted her with yours and Olivia’s life.

“Okie,” Olivia shouted and ran to the woman. Okoye knelt down and let Olivia jump into her arms. Okoye had grown so fond of Olivia that she would take her out with the other members of the guard to show her what they were doing. Olivia loved it.

“How are you little Tiger?” Okoye kept the little nickname for Olivia from when she was in the womb. She has proven to be just that too.

“Good,” then off Olivia went back to her little work table. A true Stark never fully leaving their work undone.

“I see you got your aqueduct done,” Okoye came over to you. “When will we be able to get this done?”

“As soon as Tony can send me what I need, we will be able to get it up and running.” You pushed back from the table. “How’s the guard doing? Were they able to get the barrels of water out there?”

Since finding out about the water situation, you and Okoye decided it would be best to send water until you figured out what you needed to do. So Tony sent twelve barrels to fill with water, even though you asked for six. Tony somehow knew you would need more. Once a week Okoye and the guard would swap out six for six new ones. It was a good process.

“They did,” Okoye crossed her arms and watched Olivia. “This water should last more than a week. They had two barrels still full.”

“Good, that gives us enough time to get this thing built and get them water,” You stood up and made your way around the table.

“I haven’t seen Steve around these last few weeks,” Okoye gave you a side eye and smirk.

“I may have made our friendship awkward,” you said walking to get water. You slightly cringe at the last conversation the two of you had about a month ago. Since then Steve only called or texted you. Making the conversations brief.

“How could you make it awkward? It’s not like you two slept together…”Okoye’s chuckle died as she saw your face. “You slept with him, didn’t you?”

You pressed your lips into a thin line. Did you regret it? Nope, it was the first time in years you could let yourself just go like that. Was it the right time for something like that? Nope, but you thought it was and the next morning you had to tell Steve that.

“I did and it was great,” you closed your eyes as you remembered that night. “Then when morning came, some switch flipped and I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t ready.” Your voice began to shake as you remembered the exact moment you knew you weren’t ready to move on.

Okoye reached out and touched your shoulder. “It’s okay. Someday you will. Tiger will need a father figure to look up to. Steve Rogers is that kind of man.”

Okoye was right. Steve was the right kind of man and you knew deep down you should maybe at least give him a chance. “I’ll call him this evening when I’m settled down for the night.” Then you replayed that night in your head.

The tension.

The kiss.

The feeling of his skin on yours.

The warmth of his breath on your bare skin.

***

You sat on the couch mindlessly flipping through a magazine, while you sipped on your beer. You rarely drank so you always wanted to keep it light. Steve was putting Olivia to bed and seemingly, it sounded like it was going well. She normally tries every kind of tactic to stay up later. When a door opened, you looked up to see Steve walking your way.

“Asleep already?” you asked setting the magazine on the coffee table. “You didn’t drug her did you?”

Steve laughed and sat on the couch next to you. He cracked open a beer and took a long drink. “Nope, she just wanted four stories and by the time I got through the third one, she was out.”

You leaned over and rested your head on Steve’s shoulder. You swore you felt his muscles tense for split second. “You are a life saver!”

Steve gave a light chuckle. “Tell me whats new? How’s Tony and them doing?”

“Still won’t talk to you huh?” you leaned away. You saw the hardness in those blue eyes. Tony still held some feelings towards Steve. You tried a few times to get Tony to just move on and forgive him for whatever it was. But Tony was a Stark.

“Nope,” Steve emphasized the P in nope.

“Well, they're doing good, Liv and I are going to see them next weekend,” you poked your finger into Steve’s arm. “You can come, you know? He’s asks about you too.”

Steve leaned forward and folded his hands. “I can’t,” he said not making eye contact. “I have that group i’ve been leading.”

You stood up with a huff and walked to the small kitchen. “You and your fucking excuses Steve Rogers. You and Tony are like freaking teenage girls who had a stupid fight and wont talk to each other.” You turned to see that Steve had gotten up and had his hands on his hips. “I’m just saying,” you turned to wash the few dishes in the sink. “You guys were the best of friends. You guys hung out almost all the time.”

You didn’t hear Steve come up beside you. You jumped a little but realized he was helping by drying the dishes. “That’s not why I hung out with him. People just assumed that, I just wanted to be closer to you and for the fucking life of me, I couldn’t man up and ask you out.” You rarely ever heard Steve swear. It surprised you each time.

But that wasn’t what made you drop the plate. You looked towards Olivia room and hoped that she didn’t wake up. You were in the clear.

“For years,” Steve continued as he turned to you. You just stood there and stared at the plate in the sink. The water spilling from the faucet, splashing water droplets around the sink. “I watched you with guy after guy. Almost dying in New York and then almost dying in Sokovia. I wouldn’t know what I would have done if you had.” Steve turned you with his hands. You kept your eyes on the ground. “The that day when Bucky went back on ice, that smile you two exchanged, I knew it was too late. I couldn’t be mad. The two you were perfect for each other.”

“Steve…” you stared to say but he shushed you.

“Then you lost Bucky and that literally almost killed.” Steve took his free hand and lifted your face to meet his eyes. They were soft and you saw just about every emotion he was felling. “Seeing you on that building ledge, I didn’t just pull you back for Bucky’s sake. I pulled you back for mine.”

Whatever happened next, it was beyond you. You didn’t know how it happened, but you found yourself closing the gap between you and Steve and pressing your lips firmly to his. His lips were soft and gentle. It was like something took possession of you body. Steve placed both hands on the side of your face and pulled away.

“You’re not kissing me because I told you how felt?” Steve asked resting his forehead on yours.

“I don’t know.” you answered honestly. Your eyes were closed and you were breathing hard. You really weren’t certain why you kissed Steve. He was never more than just a friend. But these last few years he’s been there for you and Olivia. “Just roll with it.”

And Steve did.

Steve pressed his lips back to yours and deepened it. One of his hands slowly makes its way to the back your neck, while the other goes down to you waist. It grips firmly as he backs you into the living room.Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Steve’s tongue slid across your bottom one, causing you to groan.

“Not here,” you slightly pulled away. “My room.”

Steve’s hand left your neck and shot down your waist. Without any effort, he picked up. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he wrapped his strong arms around you. Steve started towards your room. You buried your face into his neck and felt his body tense up and him suck in a breath.

Once in the room and the door closed, Steve had your back pressed to the door. His breath was by your ear. Sending chills down your back and making you ache for him between your legs. “I am going to take my time with you,” he whispered in your ear, sending yet another chill down your back.

“Show you me what you got, Captain,” you rolled your hips into his already hard erection. Even thorough your cotton pajama shorts, you could feel his cock straining against his jeans as it twitched.

Steve’s eyes grew dark as he spun the two of you around and dropped you on the bed. He bent down and pulled your bottoms and underwear. He saw how wet you were without even having to look at your underwear.

“Someone’s excited,” he teased as he tossed the clothes to the side.

You pushed up on your elbows and gave him a smirk. “I can say the same about you.”

Steve smirked and rose an eyebrow before pulling you legs and placing them over his shoulder. “Let’s see if you taste better than you look.” Without another word, you watched as Steve dove in. His lips meeting your clit and his tongue shooting right inside you.

With a gasp, you shoot a hand to push his face further. The way he licked, sucked, and flicked his tongue around, had you shaking and breathing hard. You couldn’t stop whimpering his name as you felt yourself quickly getting towards that edged.

“Steve,” you whimpered. Your legs pulled him closer and you could feel him hum against your clit as his tongue fucked you. The vibration of his hum was what sent you over the edge. You cried out and both your hands and legs pushed Steve further, if that were possible, into you. Your body shook as your orgasm rocked through your body. And Steve still ate at you until your back fell onto the bed.

You lifted your head up to see Steve stand up and discard his clothes. When his cock sprung free, it had you drooling and you wanted it all inside of you. Steve made his way between your legs and looked at your shirt, with his bare hands, he ripped the fabric off your body throwing it behind him. Looking into his eyes, you could see the hunger and lust. He dipped down and kissed you, tasting your release on his lips. He gripped your hands in his and placed them above your head.

“I want to hear you say it again,” Steve mumbled against your lips. You felt himself line up with your entrance.

You know what he meant. “Fuck me, Captain.”

With that, Steve slipped inside you effortlessly. A soft moan escaped your lips letting Steve’s tongue shoot into your mouth. Once he was fully inside you, he waited until you were adjusted before he started to move in and out of you slow. You slowly lifted your hips but Steve used a hand to pin them back.

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” he hummed as he peppered kisses to your jawline.

“Well,” you wrapped your legs around his waist. “If you don’t do anything about that slow movement, I will have no choice but to take control.”

Steve pulled out all the way and then slammed right back into you. You cried and moaned as he grunted as the pleasurable action was repeated. His cock slid against your wall in the most beautiful way. You arched your back into his chest each time his cock hit your cervix. His pelvic bone rubbed your clit perfectly, making you moaning, whimpering mess under him. The pressure on you hands and hip being pinned, added to the mess you already were in.

Begging him not to stop.

Pleading him to keep going.

Calling him things, you never thought you would call him before.

It all was bringing you closer to the edge.

Soon, Steve’s thrusting slowed but they were still hard and deep. His grunt were deeper, inside his chest. He let go of your hands and hip and wrapped his arms around you. You did the same. You knew you were at the edge and you knew that Steve was close too. You pushed his face up and see could see the love he had in that moment in his eyes. It was all for you.

“Cum for me,” you whispered.

With one hard thrust, Steve spilled right into you and triggered your orgasm. Your bodies shook together and your breaths were still uneven as the both of you came down. Steve pushed himself up and cupped your face with hand. He leaned down and kissed you slowly. There was no hunger behind it. Just love and passion. Then he rolled over and pulled you into his arms before the two of you fell asleep.

In that moment, everything felt right.

Morning came when Steve gently woke you up. He sat on the side of the bed and brushed back some hair. “Hey,” his voice was gentle. “Breakfast is ready and Liv wanted to show you the pancake we made you.”

You sat up and stretched. “What time is it?”

“Eight, you deserved a morning to sleep in. Especially after last night.” Steve leaned in and brushed his lips against yours. “I’ll let you get ready.”

Once you were alone, you slid out of bed and went to the closet. When you turned the light on, your eyes landed on a box that was labeled BUCKY.

***

You were putting things away as you thought about that morning. You had just told Olivia to pick up her space for the day when you turned around and froze. There stood Steve and Tony. Their faces told you that they meant business.

Olivia squealed when she saw the two men and ran towards them. Steve hugged her while he made eye contact with you. Then Olivia jumped into Tony’s arms. He picked her up and he had the biggest smile on his face. She pointed towards her project and mumbled something. Tony’s face just lit up.

“I guess while I’m here, we can get you something else,” He told her as she wiggled out of his arms. “Sorry, dear,” he said as he and Steve approached. “We would have called but what we have to tell you has to be said in person.”

You gulped. Tony’s tone had you wondering what he needed to say. Steve just stood to the side and had his hands on his hips. His eyebrows furrowed. Taking a deep breath you turned to a random guard that was placed there to watch over you guys. “Can you take her to Okoye?”

The woman took Olivia’s hand and walked out with her. You turned to the two men but it was Steve you addressed. “What’s going on?”

“You may want to sit down for this,” Steve said.

You looked to Tony and he nodded. “Okay,” you sat in your chair. “What is it?”

“We may have found a way to bring everyone back.”

You froze. Coolness filled your body and in the wake of it washing over you, goosebumps followed. Your breathing got stuck in your throat as and you grabbed your water and chugged the rest of it. Your ears were ringing and couldn’t hear what was being said by Steve or Tony.

“Let her breath, Rogers,” Tony’s hand was instantly on your back. “Gosh! We said we would ease her into this. Not dump it on her all at once.”

“How?” you choked out.

“Time travel,” Tony gently said as he sat on your table. “Do you remember Scott Lang? Well he helped me make it possible.”

Then you laughed. You laughed so hard that nearly fell out of your chair. “Time travel?” you asked trying to catch your breath. “You guys are going to go back into time and stop Thanos? What would that mean for us? I wouldn’t get Bucky back. 2018 me would still have Bucky and raise a child with him.”

Tony shushed you with his finger on your mouth. “Slow down, little sister. We are going back to get the stones and bring them to our time. Hoping it’ll work.”

You leaned back in your chair and folded your arms across your chest. You stared at Steve, who couldn’t take his eyes off you. “Do you think this will work?” You asked them both.

“We have to try, right?” Steve responded. “We owe it to those we lost. If not, then we just go on with life.”

You took a deep breath and just stared into space. You thought deeply about what was being said. You could get your husband back. Olivia could have her father. But what happens if this doesn’t work? Then you’re heartbroken all over again. You didn’t have the stomach to have such hope that they were serving to you on a silver plater. But yet, here you were taking it. Because that’s that just who you were.

“Okay,” you stood up. “Then I’m coming with you guys.”

“Nope, thats a huge ass pile of nope,” Tony said standing up too. “You missy, are staying here.”

“I agree,” Steve said.

“You have Olivia to care for,” Tony started to say.

“And you have Morgan,” you pointed out.

“She has two parents,” Tony said taking your shoulders in his hands. “Olivia only has one. For now. And if this were to go sideways and something happens to me, I need you there for Pepper.”

You took another deep breath. Tony was right. “Okay.”

“Perfect,” Tony said letting you go. “Now, I am going to go look for my darling niece and buy her something extravagant.” Tony walked out of the lab leaving you and Steve looking at each other.

The tension in the air was almost suffocating. You knew Steve didn’t want to look at you, he kept darting his eyes away from your each time you looked towards him. It wasn’t that the morning after sleeping with him was bad. There wasn’t even an argument. You just simply told him as you held one of Bucky’s shirts with a few tears in eyes that you couldn’t. That you needed some time.

Well, if this time travel thing works, then there goes the time you needed.

“You know,” you walked over to Steve. “I’m getting the feeling that you are partly on board with this.”

Steve looked down at the ground and then back at you. “What makes you say that?”

You made a face at him. “One, I’ve known you for over a decade. Two, you’re looking at me like you want to throw me on something and have your way with me. But you can’t because you’re best friend, also my husband could be coming back.”

Steve cracked a smile that disappeared just as fast. “It’s just horrible timing on my end. I’m fully on board with this.”

“Good,” you started to leave and turned back to Steve. “If this doesn’t work out, I’ll give us a shot. See where us goes.”

“And if Bucky comes back and he finds out about that night?”

“Then I tell him the truth,” you shrugged your shoulders. “In fact, I will just tell him. He’s been gone for five years. He would have expected me to move on. Now, let’s find my brother before he buys Liv something that’s too big to fit in my apartment.”

***

A few days have went by. Tony had sent the stuff you needed to get water to the Border Tribe. You and some volunteers set to work on getting it all started. It was hard long work that you decided to stay in your old house with Olivia. It made it easier to wake up and get to work and let Olivia play with the other children.

On the fourth day, you were ready to break ground when you noticed a change in the air. The same kind of change five years ago. You shook your head and passed it of as just thinking too much into it. You were too tired, you could barely sleep in that house still. You stayed up most nights as your mind raced with memories. And emotions.

“Let’s take a few hours,” you said to the others as you got up. You could barely concentrate. Today was the day that you brother and friends went on that time travel mission. You couldn’t help but worry about it going wrong. You were waiting for word about if it worked or not.

Olivia ran up to you and jumped into your arms. She nuzzled her face into your neck and you let out a soft sigh. She always knew when you needed hugs the most. She pulled back and took your face in her tiny, little hands. Her clear blue eyes stared deep into yours. She didn’t have to say anything to tell you that everything will be fine no matter what happened.

“I wuv you, Mommy,” she said.

“I love you, too, Tiger,” you gave her little butterfly kisses and set her down. “Can you take her back to the lab? I’m gong to take a few minutes and catch up later.”

“Yes, Missus Barnes,” the guard said taking your daughters hand in theirs.

When you alone you started to stare at the supplies in front of you. You wondered if this was actually enough. You wanted this to work so bad, you almost didn’t hear the snap of a twig behind you. You snapped your head up to listen for it again. Taking a deep breath you shook you head and went back to shuffling through the metal before you.

A twig snapped again.

You picked up a thin, but long piece of metal. “Whoever you are, you may want to think twice about who you sneak up on.”

You spun around, swinging the metal as you went. Something, well more like someone stopped your swing. You froze when you realized who had stopped your swing. A chill ran through your body. You know the color drained from your face. Those blue eyes were just as surprised as you were. They searched yours for some kind of answer.

Your hands fell and so did the metal. You took a step back only to lose your footing. He stepped forwards and grabbed your arms pulling you back towards him.

“Careful there, Doll.”

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owlsbride · 3 years

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Icha Icha and Prejudice: The Book Club

Chapter VII: Under the Suna Sun

Kakashi was a man of war, of battlefields, makeshift camps, nights under the stars but surrounded by insects, earth and who knows what else. He was a man who had spent more than a day without bathing with questionable hygiene and eaten the most diverse foods, even some that he would never want to remember ever again. Kakashi had shared missions with both comrades and traitors at the same time. He had forever soiled his hands with blood for Konoha, and after many years of self-pity, regrets, little self-esteem, psychological torture and a considerable amount of therapy he could say that he felt Ok, with everything... Much of the time.

However, what Kakashi was not, and maybe he had his new job to blame, a man of high temperatures. He was perfectly fine with Konoha's weather. It was a nice one: with all four seasons developing naturally throughout the year. A winter that invites you to sit by the fire, but that does not soak the bones. Stable autumns and springs with the necessary rains and a hot but bearable summer, with sweet fragrances, long sunsets, cosy beaches, soft breezes and the eternal smell of the cherry trees. Even in those days when the heat was oppressive, Konoha was still comforting, comfortable and pleasant.

Now Suna, Suna was terrible. Kakashi hated Suna. No, he didn't hate his people, the villagers, the Kazekage nor nothing like that. He just hated the weather. There was a hideous winter or a hideous summer, and he wasn't sure which one was worse. He had been there on many occasions, and he never had been one to complain, but this heat? This heat was killing him now with all the protocol clothes and the village tour under the midday sun to take the dimension of the damage caused by Naruto and if he has to be fair also by the Kazekage. The same Kazekage that could not be found anywhere because he was busy in reunions and meetings with very important people.

"Gaara is going to be busy with very important politicians, Hokage Sama..." Baki began, Kakashi lifted an eyebrow "Not that you are not import..."

"It's ok, Baki, will he be available in the night?" Kakashi interrupted tiredly. He had been travelling the whole night for nothing, he didn't give a damn if he was an important person or not. He just wanted to go to what would be his room and wash off all the sand that he already had on parts of his body that he didn't even know existed.

"What a drag" Kakashi heard Shikamaru snarl and agreed with the boy, nodding only his head "He must be afraid of you, Lord Sixth." The Hokage smiled to himself. Shikamaru could be a bit of a pain in the ass at times and a lazy one, but he would never admit a disrespect to Konoha or his leader. And this time, he didn't correct him.

"Hey, crybaby," Temari spoke to Shikamaru, lifting her chin full of proud and arrogance "My brother is not afraid of no one."

"Troublesome" Shikamaru answered, looking down.

Kakashi's head was about to explode, but Shikamaru was right. Knowing Gaara's social skills, the most probable thing was that the young man would be hidden in his office trying to figure out how to handle the situation. After all, what he had told Sakura the other night, was correct.

The Kazekage had a difficult childhood, like most of them, but somehow he hadn't been able to fully heal the wounds of the past, (has someone actually done it?) and with his too rational mind and his emotional part repressed he was an introverted, quiet and distant being. Gaara was more like a child than an adult. However, the Kazekage had earned his respect. Suna had never been better, and his performance in the fourth war was outstanding, nothing to do with the boy with the deep gaze who was always seeking answers. Gaara was doing well as Suna's leader. Until two weeks ago that Naruto came up with his plan. And so it was now. He really should have brought Sakura, at least now it would be easing his headache. He could hear from behind him the merry couple fighting about something.

"Hey, you two" Kakashi addressed them both "Don't you have something to do? Like catching up, maybe?" He shooed them away with his hands.

"But Hokage Sama..." Temari tried to protest bowing a little.

"It's ok, Princess," Kakashi said mimicking some kind of courtesy he learned over the years "I'm sure Baki, here, is willing and able to show me the place around. I'll see you all of them later tonight after recognising the situation" Kakashi finished with a bow from his own.

Temari and Shikamaru stood still watching Kakashi walk away into the village with Baki. They both had to recognise that as idle or hunched or oblivious he may seem, he was a really regal Hokage.

"Oh, Temari..." Kakashi spoke again without turning to look at her "Make sure that your brother is available for dinner." It was not a suggestion, not a request or a wish, it was an order.

"Jeez, you are so fucked up." Shikamaru whispered.

"Yeah, what a drag" Temari finished realising her breath soundly. Shikamaru smiled at the use of his words.

The situation was absolutely irrational and surrealistic. There were hordes of villagers asking him things about when the improvements that the future Hokage to be promised them were going to arrive. The answers were never, but of course, he couldn't say anything remotely closer to that. What were they thinking? Would Naruto have drugged Gaara to agree or did he just convince him with a few words? If so, he would be a great Hokage if it could mature even a little.

Naruto and Gaara promised that through new jutsus they would stop the sandstorms. That they both would build hot springs bath and aqueducts coming from the outskirts of Konoha to Suna, to create their own spa and recreation centre. They had also promised that they would control the winter temperatures and that soon the houses would not need to have hermetic closures to fight against the sand. How the hell were they going to achieve that? Yes, the times were changing, but a whole new infrastructure to generate the energy necessary to fulfil Naruto's plans was impossible. At least for the moment. In fact, they had to be grateful that they could connect the required antennas to access the telephone lines and the internet.

Fortunately for Kakashi, time was on his side, and all his responses were "I'm sure, my dear sirs, that by the time Uzumaki Naruto takes over as the Seventh Hokage he will have all his plans in motion." With good fortune and favourable wind that would still be within a few years.

"There is one more thing, Hokage Sama" Baki spoke once all the villagers were already returning to their homes not so happy with Kakashi's half-lies, half trues answers.

"What now?" Kakashi felt light, almost floating. The heat was finally having its effect, and the headache was throbbing. Fucking Sakura, she was right, a heatstroke was coming.

"If you prefer we can discuss it later, you look..."

"I'm ok, Baki, what is it? what did those two do?" Now he was starting to get mad.

"Well... Uzumaki Naruto, and Lord Gaara, had promised all the kids in the village that they will form a special camp to train future academy aspirants and genins, and that Naruto would be in charge of assigning missions, all of low rank of course, in order to practice his duties as a Hokage and that Gaara would be his advisor. Kankuro would train the kids. We have all the village children signed up waiting for the special camp to start."

"What you are saying is that they want to form an academy prior to the academy just to simulate the work of the Kages and that not only are Naruto and your Kazekage involved but also Kankuro?"

"Yes, Sir" Baki was so embarrassed.

"Definitely not" Kakashi was about to pass out.

"But Lord Sixth, the kids are so excited, what will we tell them?"

"There is no we, Baki. I'll speak to Gaara tonight, and he will have to take care, now I want to go to my lodging."

The dinner with Gaara wasn't comfortable at all. The Kazekage would bearly looked Kakashi in the eyes. He much more preferred the terrible and strong Gaara from the Desert than this excuse of a boy playing the leader. Yes, he had messed up the things a bit, but nothing beyond repair.

The new infrastructures would arrive sooner or later, and the camp thing could be a summer camp and not a pre-academy. He would give them the possibility to do it in Konoha where Kakashi himself could control them, and Naruto would only be a simple instructor. That way, Gaara would not have to neglect his village. It was the best measure for damage control.

Even so, Kakashi did not put aside his job as Konoha's leader in this meeting. With the tenderness worthy of a good older brother, but the Hokage's firmness, he asked the youngest to please not listen to Naruto's follies anymore. Being a good friend did not mean putting the village's stability at risk just by being complacent. Kakashi also gave Gaara a friendly reminder: to never get over his persona again. He was Konoha's Hokage, not Naruto.

Gaara still had a lot to learn yet, so Kakashi incentivized him to not to hesitate to ask for advice outside his closest circle. Sometimes the objectivity of others was the best advisor. And for that, the councils were hostiles towards him, except of course for the two brothers and Baki. That annoyed him a lot, but somehow everything turned out ok.

Kakashi arrived finally at the luxurious room that Gaara had prepared for him. He didn't see Shikamaru in the whole day after he dismissed him early in the midday and during the dinner they bearly address each other and it was ok. He didn't need the Nara witty mind talking and complaining around in the same room. Besides, Kakashi suspected that Shikamaru was involved in much more satisfactory endeavours than politics, and plans for future summer camps.

After the longest shower of his life, Kakashi finally was ready to go to bed, it was still hot out there and in the room but the cold shower and the conditioner helped a little. He collapsed on the mattress as he had not in a long time. Only on his underwear, he didn't even take the bother to rearrange his mask. This time he was as tired as if he had been fighting all night for the Anbu. It was a very comfortable bed, enough for more than one person, and suddenly he remembered Sakura.

22:40: Are you there? I'm so so so sorry...

22:40: Sakura this have been madness

He waited for the answer, his eyes closing slowly.

22:41: You were right Sakura, I should have brought you with me. The heat is killing me, my head is killing me, everything is killing me

22:41: Ok... Let's talk later.

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Notes:

Well, Kakashi is having a hard time at Suna right?

Next chapter: chatting, texting, reading... and he will come back to Konoha eventually.

I just realise that I'm always asking for likes, and kudos and comments, but I've never thank you before! so here I go: Thank you, everyone!! you make my day when you do something like that, so please keep going and make me happy. See you soon.

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the-girl-in-the-box · 3 years

Text

Can You Imagine? VII

A/N: Just a clarification in this chapter- I did not make any mistakes with Baldur's age! His age is entirely intentional, and will make sense in future chapters ;) But, I have very little more I want to say, and so I will leave you with this! Skål!

Summary: Freydis was dead. At least, when she’d lost consciousness, she’d been sure she was. But now she has woken up in a cold, sterile environment, one she is certain is not Valhalla, and the world as she once knew it has changed. People now have strange abilities, some of them, and people they call ‘scientists’ are trying to give them to her. The bigger issue, though, is the fact they have also woken the very man who killed her. Ivar the Boneless lives again as well, in the same way Freydis does, and if they want to survive… she may have to learn to trust him again.

Masterlist

Stay Alive

A feast had been called to celebrate the arrival of King Harald to Kattegat. It had been pulled together quickly, but once it was well underway, no one seemed to care all that much. Food and drink was served freely, and Freydis and Ivar sat on their thrones. The former cradled her baby in her arms, smiling as she looked down at him.

She gently tapped the tip of Baldur’s nose, an affectionate smile on her lips. “What must you think of all this, hm?” she asked him, as though he could answer. “It must be a lot. You are so young, not even a week old, are you? I can imagine you must find this all rather… loud. But you are a very good baby. You are the son of Ivar the Boneless, and you are already unafraid.”

Lifting Baldur, she pressed a kiss to his head, and then held him tightly to her chest. “You are a blessing to us, do you know?” she whispered then. “The Gods have blessed us with you. You are our reward for every good thing we have done in taking Kattegat, and for every good thing we will do with it. You are proof that the Gods are with us, and that the Gods love us.”

The baby cooed as if he could understand Freydis’s words, and she giggled softly as she looked down at him again. “Yes, my love,” she replied. “And the Gods love you, too. They will love you, and they will favor you above all other men.”

Ivar turned to her as King Harald finished his conversation with him, and went into the crowd. “Is he enjoying the feast?” the King asked his wife, and she turned to him with an adoring smile.

“It seems he is at least tolerating it,” she teased, and Ivar chuckled a little, leaning over closer so he could see his baby.

“One day, one day he will come to love these feasts, when he is a brave warrior just returned from his first raid. Then, he will return to a feast thrown in his honor, and he will enjoy it. Hm?”

Freydis felt a slight tug at her chest, and she looked up at Ivar. “In many years,” she agreed. “In many years, yes. But he is only a baby right now. Let him be a baby.”

Ivar chuckled softly and kissed the side of her head lovingly. “Of course,” he said. “Though I could not have any say in that if I wanted to.”

Something vaguely crossed Freydis’s mind, as though she suddenly felt that she could. Whatever that meant, she wasn’t sure, but then Ivar was kissing her and she wasn’t quite concerned with it anymore.

Her hand came up to cup Ivar’s cheek as she kissed him in return, and after a few moments, her other hand came up to cup his cheek as well. He smiled a little against her lips, and gave a contented hum. But, at a small voice, he pulled away to look down to the source.

“Mamma,” it had said, and Freydis turned from Ivar to smile at the small boy standing there. Two or three years old at the most, she laughed softly and turned her body, gesturing for him to come to her. He was giggling, and had some sort of food smudged over his face.

“You made a mess, didn’t you, Baldur?” she quipped, and the boy giggled as Freydis wiped the food from around his mouth. “I thought we taught you better how to eat, hm?”

Baldur simply giggled again, and Ivar gave an affectionate shake of his head. “Come here,” Ivar told him, and Baldur did as his father said, walking over to him. He took the boy’s face in his hands and tilted it a little, looking to see if Freydis had missed anything, and when he was satisfied she hadn’t, he gave Baldur’s head an affectionate shove, making the boy laugh again as he popped back up.

Freydis looked out at the people who were starting to thin out, as the night wore on, and she soon looked back to Baldur. “Mm, I think it is time for little boys to be going to bed,” she said, reaching over to ruffle his hair. Baldur started to whine, but Ivar chuckled and shook his head.

“No, your mother is right,” he said. “It is late, and you need your rest.” When the boy seemed about to whine again, Ivar cut him off by adding, “And so does your mother. She runs a lot around here, I am sure she is very tired, and you do not want to keep her up longer than she needs to be, hm?”

Baldur shook his head now, giving his mother an embarrassed smile, which earned a chuckle from the Queen. “Come along, Baldur,” she said, and stood from her throne. The boy followed his mother from the room easily, and as he did, King Harald again approached Ivar, his cheeks flushed from the amount of mead he’d ingested throughout the night.

“Ah, King Ivar,” he said, clapping Ivar on the shoulder. The younger man pushed himself to his feet, and smiled tightly at Harald. “For having only had a few hours to prepare, your people sure know how to put together a feast.”

“You gave us no warning you were coming,” Ivar pointed out. “We would have had more prepared had we known. But, the best always come to Kattegat. This was nothing they could not handle.”

Harald gave him a tight-lipped smile and a gruff chuckle. Clearly, he wasn’t quite happy with what Ivar had just said. It was no secret Harald had great ambitions for his kingdom of Vestfold, and so hearing Ivar so easily talk about the success of Kattegat was not something he was happy about. Not that he could show it, nor that he would.

“Of course,” Harald said. “Well, I am glad to see your wife and son are well.”

Ivar nodded, a distrustful smirk on his lips. “The Gods have always favored my family,” he pointed out. “I would be surprised if they weren’t.”

“Well, the Gods can be fickle beings,” Harald said. “Their favor may not last forever.”

Ivar narrowed his eyes a little, and gave him another false smile, this one accompanied with a half bow, before he turned to leave the room. After all, he had a wife to attend to once Freydis had put their son to bed.

The night passed peacefully, as did the nights of the next weeks. Harald eventually left Kattegat, of course, but a few days after, Ivar found himself being shaken almost violently awake by his wife.

His eyes looked at her, widened drastically, as his heart began to hammer in his chest. “What-?” he started to ask, but her panicked question cut him off.

“Where is Baldur?” she asked.

If he hadn’t yet been awake, he was now. “Is he not in-?”

Again, he was cut off by the way she shook her head.

Ivar didn’t take the time to put the braces on his legs, flipping onto his stomach and sliding right off the bed, crawling as quickly as he could to their son’s room. And, just as he’d gathered from Freydis, Baldur was gone.

His heart sank into his stomach, a very sick feeling settling there as Freydis followed him into the room. Their son was gone. Their son, their perfectly behaved son who would not have wandered off in the middle of the night, was gone. There was only one explanation either of them could come up with- someone had taken him in the night.

At that realization, a blinding rage began to build up in Ivar, and he was suddenly turning and pulling himself with all haste into the great hall of their longhouse, calling to every servant within earshot to gather there. Freydis picked up her skirts so she could follow him as quickly as she could, and she came into the room in time to see the servants assembling in front of their thrones- one of which Ivar was dragging himself up into.

“One of you must have seen something,” he seethed. “If none of you say, then you will all be questioned, by myself, until you confess.”

Of course, that sounded like a nightmare to each of them. Ivar wasn’t known for his mercy, quite the opposite, in fact, and none of them wanted to go through such a thing. A few of them looked to Freydis, hoping their Queen may have some mercy for them, but the anger in her eyes revealed they would find none with her. And it made sense. What woman would show mercy to someone who may know something about her missing child?

One of the servants, a man, met her eyes. Something shifted in them, her brows creasing as she looked at him, and he quickly looked to the ground. It occurred to her what she found so odd about him, and then her eyes narrowed. She didn’t recognize him.

She stepped down from the dais, and stalked over to that man, whose heart was now beginning to pound in his chest. This was bad for him. She knew.

“Who are you?” she demanded of him.

“My name is Svend, my Queen,” he answered, not quite meeting her eyes.

“I don’t believe you,” she hissed out. “Perhaps that is your name, but I am not your Queen, am I?”

His eyes finally looked to hers, knowledge and acceptance that he had been caught in them, and suddenly Freydis was grabbing his shirt, shoving him back into the nearest table and bending him back over it. “Where is my baby?!” she screeched, and everyone in the near vicinity backed away.

Svend looked up into Freydis’s eyes with no small amount of fear in them, his heart racing now. He didn’t answer, and so she lifted him a little, and slammed him back down. “Where is he?!” she demanded again.

When he didn’t answer, Freydis backed up, and suddenly lifted him from the table with her hand, red smoke pouring out of her fingers and swirling around his body. Her eyes glowed a bright red as she glared at him, and he began to hyperventilate as he looked down at her.

“Wi-witch!” he cried, panic beginning to claw at his throat. Or, no, that was more of the red smoke. She was strangling him.

“Call me what you will,” she snarled. “I will call you what you are. A traitor.”

Ivar leaned forward in his throne, his eyes wide and interested in every move Freydis made. He’d always been enthralled by the power that flowed through his wife’s veins, but in moments like this, when he saw her use it, it occurred to him that there was no other woman he’d have been happy married to but her.

“I would confess, if I were you,” Ivar said, and the sudden casualty of his tone struck a cold fear into Svend’s blood. Freydis was going to pull an answer out of him, however she had to, and so Ivar had relaxed, calmed as he realized this. And so, Svend made his decision. His King was not worth dying at the hands of an enraged Völva.

“He is with King Harald,” Svend said suddenly, and was dropped back onto the table, which cracked beneath his falling weight.

Freydis turned back to Ivar with fury in her eyes, though the red in them had gone, and her husband met her eyes with a fury of his own. “How dare he take our son, after we extend such hospitality to him?” he growled.

“It is simple,” Freydis replied. Her voice had gone cold, and Ivar knew this to be the worst stage of her anger. “The man wishes to be sent to Valhalla. That must be the only reason he would give me reason to blood eagle him.”

A dark smirk came to Ivar’s face at his wife’s words. “Of course,” he agreed. “And you will have the chance, my love. The rest of you, you are all dismissed.”

Svend tried to get up then, but found his muscles entirely paralyzed. Fearing for a moment that he couldn’t move after what Freydis had done to him, his head lifted, looked at his body. That was when he saw the red smoke, still wrapped around him, coming from the closed fist at Freydis’s side. He was going nowhere.

And, as one of Harald’s men, of course he would be going nowhere. Freydis and Ivar both intended to have their time with him, to learn all they could about what King Harald intended to do with their son.

It had only taken a few days before the man had given them everything, and then they began making plans, preparing to go and rescue their son.

Harald had taken Baldur as a way to bring Ivar to his knees. His belief was that, if he threatened his son, Ivar would be willing to do whatever was necessary to take him home. Even, if things went the way Harald planned, giving him his throne.

Ivar would have none of that.

He was going to lead a group of warriors and shieldmaidens into Vestfold, and they were going to rescue Baldur in the dead of night, take Harald as prisoner, and he would deliver the King to his wife as he promised.

Then, of course, Vestfold would be absorbed into their Empire of Kattegat. Really, all of this was going to backfire entirely on King Harald, with the plans Ivar had made.

Only a few mornings later, just long enough for a medium sized army to be formed, Freydis stood on the steps of the longhouse she shared with her husband, kissing him lovingly before she sent him off.

“The Gods go with you,” she told him, looking at him seriously. “Bring home our son, and return to me.”

“I will,” Ivar replied with a serious, meaningful gaze to his wife. “I will bring Baldur home.”

Freydis gave a sharp nod, and as Ivar kissed her once more, and turned to lead his army away, she found herself whispering a soft prayer.

“You Gods,” she almost breathed out. “Bring my husband and my son home to me. You know they are my world, and though I know I can rule Kattegat without them at my side, I have no desire to do so. I know the Norns have already decided Ivar’s fate, as well as Baldur’s, but if I am meant to lose them, then change the web they have weaved. Do not let them die in Vestfold, but send them home to me.” Her eyes darkened slightly. “And let them bring me King Harald, so I may send him to Helheim’s gates.”

She took a deep breath, and then turned to step back inside the longhouse. Kattegat needed ruling until Ivar returned, which she had faith he would do, and so she would do it. Until the King and Prince returned home, the Queen would rule with a fist of smoke and magic.

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius, @katfett, @zuzus-sun, @heavenly1927, @punkrocknpearls, @pomegranates-and-blood

If you want to be added to the taglist, feel free to reach out either by commenting, reblogging, DMing me, or sending an ask, and I’ll be more than happy to add you!

#ivar the boneless #ivar #ivar ragnarsson #ivar's heathen army #alex hogh andersen #freydis #queen freydis #alicia agneson #ivar x freydis #freyvar #vikings #vikings history channel #history channel vikings #can you imagine?#chapter seven

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fixxofvixx · 4 years

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Stay With Me - Demon Leo AU - Chapter 23

Hello my lovelies! I know it's been forever since I updated! I blame Final Fantasy VII Remake. It took my soul and never gave it back. I beat the game but I keep playing it. It has a special place in my heart.

Anyway, you didn't come here to see me rambling about my love for fictional sexy game heroes lol. I hope you enjoy the chapter and let me know what you think! 💚💚

😈😈😈😈😈

Your lungs burned with every new step you took. Thanks to Leo, you had a basic knowledge of the layout of the forest and which path to take to hide. You could hear the men behind you, calling out for you to show yourself.

*Y/N, we need to find a place to hide.* The lynx had no problem keeping pace with you. You dove behind a large tree to catch your breath for a moment.

*I...I-I don't know where....* The tears in your eyes made it hard to see the path before you. You had no idea who these men were and how they got into Leo's house when you knew it was warded from intruders. Sibena placed herself in front of you and snapped at you.

*Y/N! Get your act together! If you hesitate, we die. My master didn't give you his soul for you to throw it away. Now, move!" Sibena snapped at your arm hanging at your side and it caused you to shake out of the haze of fear you were in. With a deep breath, you took off into the woods again. You wanted to seek protection with the animals in the forest but considering those men looked like hunters, you didn't want any of them to get hurt. You would have to take care of this on your own. At least....until Leo returned.

You frantically looked around for a place to hide. You eventually came to the large meadow where you had found Leo after Hakyeon had taken him. The large tree was still standing there. For some reason, you ran towards it, hoping to possibly climb it to get away from the three. The meadow put you out in the open however but there was nowhere else to go. As soon as you took off into the meadow, one of the men shouted.

"She's there!" You heard their heavy footsteps behind you and your heart pounded in your chest. Something suddenly whizzed by you and then you noticed the pain in your arm. Looking down, you saw a gash on your arm, the fabric of your sleeve had been cut as well. Blood slowly seeped from the wound.

You ignored the pain as you reached for the first branch of the tree. Dejavu flashed in your head to when you'd done the same looking for Leo. You hoped he would be back soon and help you. Sibena easily launched herself into the tree beside you. Your arm was in agonizing pain now and you wondered if what they had thrown at you was poisoned.

"Aw, come on down, sweetie, we just want to talk." The largest of the three sauntered up to the tree and smiled up at you. He seemed to be the leader of the group.

"Like hell you do. We can talk from here. What do you want?" Your voice shook from the pain and fear coursing through your body.

"Where's your demon?"

"Why do you want to know?" You eyed the other two men as they slowly circled the tree on either side.

"We have some......unfinished business with him. Surely, he's told you about us?"

"No...and how did you get in the house? It's warded from outsiders."

"Well, that's easy. We were already in the house. We've been there for years. You've seen us too."

Confusion set into your features.

"I'm pretty sure I would have noticed three men walking around the house. Try again."

"You're not thinking hard enough. You've even held us in your hands, fleeting as it was. But it was nonetheless exciting! Think, woman!"

You thought over and over and finally it dawned on you.

"Oh my god, the statue!?" Your answer was almost a whisper, afraid to really say it outloud.

"Bingo. Although, we could never hear your voice, we've seen you many times. Shacked up with that wretched demon of yours, letting him touch you. What sins you must have committed! We assumed you were his captive at first but...well, we know now exactly what you are. We would offer to help you but I fear that might be in vain."

"Help me with what?" The other two were on the left and right of you now. They waited patiently on the ground, anticipating their leaders command to come after you.

"Get rid of the demon, of course! Didn't he tell you what we are?" You shook your head and the man laughed. "Demon hunters, my dear, we kill his kind."

Your heart lurched at the thought of these men hunting down Leo. But then realized that they had been trapped in that statue. You smirked at them, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Well, I'm guessing you aren't very good at it, since he trapped you in that statue."

"Not until after we killed his brothers. The demon king created six sons. There are only four now. The more we kill of the hierarchy, the less demons they can create."

You gasped and looked at Sibena.

*It's true. I wasn't aware of how they died but I do know my master mentioned that they were dead.*

Sorrow filled your heart for the loss of Leo's brothers. That sorrow was quickly replaced by anger. These men took Leo's family from him. You knew what that felt like.

"You bastards....."

"Aww, are you angry that you can't have more demons all over you. You smell of him, you know. You are a disgrace to the human race!"

"What the hell have they ever done to you?! If you want to hunt, do it to provide for families who are hungry. Why would you hunt other people?!"

"These.....things.....aren't people, sweetheart. They're a blight on the planet! They shouldn't exist!"

"Well, maybe they think the same about you! So what if they are different? Just because they don't look or live the same way as you, doesn't mean they are less than you!" Once you finished your sentence, you heard movement behind you. You looked around and screamed at one of the hunters who had snuck up on you when you were talking.

He made a grab for you but you were able to dodge it. He let out a growl in anger and you saw that some of his teeth were filed down to sharp points. His hair was long and greasy. Knives and other various weapons clinked around his waist. You moved quickly to the right and hauled yourself up onto the next branch. You could hear them close behind you. You heard Sibena hiss just before the third man howled in pain.

"You damn mangy cat! I'll kill you too!"

*Why does everyone call me MANGY?!?!* You heard Sibena scream in your head and then she lunged at the man, causing him to topple off of the tree along with her.

You quickly climbed higher and higher, desperate to get away from the man that was chasing you. You were almost to the top of the tree now, your fear of heights taking a back seat to the new fear chasing you. You finally ran out of branches and you turned to see the man just below you. You were sweating so much and your lungs hurt from the climbing.

For once, you wished you had wings like Leo to take you away from there. You didn't want to be the weak human anymore.

"I-I'm not a demon so why are you trying to kill me?!" Tears formed in your eyes. You wanted Leo. You wanted his protective arms around you.

"Being a demon's whore is just as bad as being a demon!" The man reached up and grabbed the branch causing it to shake. You tried to keep your balance but he was shaking the branch too hard. He then raised both of his arms and pulled violently on the branch. The wood cracked and you immediately started to fall. You hit the next branch down and landed on your stomach. The force knocked the wind from your lungs. You cried out in pain as the man grabbed your hair and pulled you up.

"What do you wanna do, boss?" The man holding you yelled down to the man on the ground. You couldn't see Sibena or the third man anywhere.

"Just throw her off. Leo will show up eventually and find her. While he's distracted mourning the loss of his plaything, we'll take him out!"

"Well, you heard the man." He didn't hesitate as he pushed you off the branch. You screamed, hitting various twigs and branches on the way down. You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the ground coming towards you. You would have to apologize to Hakyeon when you got to the Underworld. Perhaps he could take his soul back. Leo would take care of Sibena most likely.

After a few seconds, nothing happened. You cracked your eye open and then both eyes opened wide. You were floating in mid air. You looked all around you and noticed the leader of the hunters looked frozen in fear and confusion. You could see a mist forming around you....or maybe it was smoke. Actually......

It looked a lot like demon smoke. But it wasn't Leo's color. It was difficult to tell completely but there seemed to be two different colors. It almost looked like a beautiful coral and emerald swirling together. If this was from a demon, it was one you'd never met before.

You looked down at the hunters again. The man who had pushed you off had joined the leader now. They started to run but a massive stone wall appeared around the meadow. The orb that you were stuck in floated slowly to the ground. Once you were on the ground again, the orb changed shape. Chains of smoke formed tightly around your wrists that attached themselves to two long pillars on either side of you.

"What the hell is this?! What are you doing?!" The leader yelled at you as he ran towards you.

"Does it look like I'm doing this, you moron? Why would I chain myself to two pillars in the middle of a meadow?!"

"She's right, it isn't her." A woman's voice came from above you and you raised your head to see an older woman in a black dress. The cloak she wore matched the chains of smoke that now held you captive. Huge grey wings flapped almost elegantly behind her. She descended until she gracefully touched the ground a few yards from you. She ignored the two men and headed straight for you.

"Now, human, I have some questions for you."

"O-Okay...."

"Is that how you answer someone?! Are you completely lacking in manners?! Try again!" The woman's voice rose to a frightening level and you automatically flinched.

"Y-Yes, ma'am." Your hands shook as the woman got closer. Who the hell was she? She was obviously a demon but why was she targeting you? Where was Leo?

"A slight improvement. Now, you will only answer when I ask a question. Otherwise, you will be silent. Is that understood?"

Not wanting to anger her any further, you nodded your head.

"Speak, you imbecile! Do you understand?!"

"Y-Yes, I-I understand."

"Good. Now, first, why are you in this forest?" You looked up at her in confusion but answered quickly.

"I....I live here."

"Nonsense! Why does a human live in THIS forest! You are trespassing!"

Suddenly, the chains of smoke holding you immobile sent an electric shock through your body. You cried out in pain but somehow managed to stay upright.

"Let's try this again. Why are you in this forest and why do you have the soul of a demon?!"

Lightning suddenly struck the tree and you screamed. Fear shut you down. You could no longer move and the recurring electric shocks sent through the chains were draining your strength. Finally, you fell to your knees.

"You will answer me!" Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the woman raise her hand, ready to strike you. You tensed, waiting for the blow.

"STOP!"

You raised your head to see Leo, Ravi, and Ken a few yards from you. A sigh of relief escaped your body just before Leo appeared in front of you. He knelt before you and curled his hand around your cheek. He felt the shocks going through your body and black smoke filled the area around you.

"You're shocking her?! Release her, NOW!"

"Leo, my dear, this human is trespassing in your forest. I'm simply helping you teach her a lesson."

"She's not trespassing! She lives here, WITH ME! Now, release her!" Leo's voice echoed throughout the meadow.

"Fine, but do not let her escape. I have questions for her." The woman waved her hand and the chains disappeared. With nothing to hold you up, you collapsed onto Leo.

His arms curled around you instantly. He lowered you gently onto the ground and inspected your injuries. He took your hands and inspected your wrists. Small singe marks wrapped around them. He put his hands over them and healed them instantly. He placed his hand over the cut on your arm and healed the cut as well. He smiled slightly at you in a silent apology but you shook your head, telling him you were fine. You took a glance at the hunters and saw them both beneath Ravi's hellhounds.

"Sibena?"

"She's alright. We found her with her kill just a few yards away. She's sharing nicely with the wolves." You nodded and let your head fall to his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, my love. I shouldn't have left you." He kissed your forehead and then you heard the woman scoff.

"Leo, dear, please tell me you're joking. Why on earth is there a human living in this forest? Ah! I understand! You're keeping her around to feed from later! Are you ill? I can help you instead." She reached out her hand towards Leo but he pushed it away.

"I am not ill. She is NOT food. She is mine. I'm her's. We live here together. She is the person I intend to take as my wife."

"Impossible! Never! I will not have this!" The light darkened in the meadow and you tensed, clutching Leo's shirt in fear.

"Well, see here's the thing. I don't require your approval, Mother."

#vixx #taekwoon #leo #vixx fic #vixx leo #taekwoon fic #taekwoon au #leo au #demon taekwoon #demon leo

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fragmentedink-archived · 4 years

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Hell to Pay: Chapter Twenty-Seven

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Ash could feel his magic draining piece by piece as he tried to force it into Lev’s body. He looked for a piece, a scrap, of life but couldn’t find anything other than darkness and shadows. There was a faint, faint light, but it disappeared and flickered out before he could catch it and when Ash tried forcing more magic into him, he felt fingers dig into his bun and yank him backwards hard enough, Ash fell onto his back in the grass.

A foot sat solidly on his sternum, pinning him to the ground. He used a bit of his magic, clearing his eyesight enough to see Nate standing over him, face tight and cold. “I will not let my brother lose you too, you arrogant sonofabitch.”

Ash hooked his fingers into Nate’s ankle and was seconds away from burning him, but didn’t if only because Bay would have his head- or at least try to for harming his mate. “I can heal him,” Ash said. “Let- let me try.”

Nate’s heel dug into his chest. “No,” he said, coldly. “He is dead. Not even you can bring him back, Ash. And I will not let you try.”

Ash ground his teeth together. His fingers dug into Nate’s ankle. “I’ll burn you,” he warned.

Nate’s face cut into a diamond smile. “Try it.”

He could hear Amara stalk around the car. “Just fucking stop, Ash.”

Ash glared her way. “Mind your own damn business. This is above your paygrade.”

“Lev is my business,” Amara snapped.

“Lev,” Ash said, flatly, “was your business. Because none of you are letting me fix him.” He shot a warning pulse of heat up Nate’s ankle, but Nate didn’t budge an inch, despite pain lacing his face. “Nate.”

“I am ordering you,” Nate said. “I let you up, you get up and go into the house and stay with Baylor.”

Ash’s mouth snapped shut and he nodded once, tersely. “Fine,” he bit out.

“Swear it?”

“Isn’t that what I just said,” Ash snapped. “Let me the fuck up so I can go babysit your mate while you deal with this shit mess.”

Nate’s warning look was swift before he finally removed his boot and held out a hand. He swiped it away and got to his feet, wiping the blood from his mouth while stalking into the house. Fuck this; he was done.

------

Amara tugged her hands her her hair, watching Ash stalk back to the house. Fuck. Fuck. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Remi was dead; Lev was supposed to be safe. Amara should have sensed something was off. Not that she’d admit that to Nik.

She looked back at him, gauging his temper. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up with her fist in his face. He wasn’t the only one who had just lost Lev, and she hated the way she felt helpless. How she felt useless.

Nik slowly looked at her. “I’m sorry,” he finally said.

It was like the anger in her chest imploded, collapsing in on itself. Nik- he never apologized. Ever. She wrapped him in a hug before she could think about it, burying her face in his shoulder. “Not your fault,” she said fiercely.

He was slow to hug her back, but he did. She just held him tighter. She wasn’t going to bullshit him; this wasn’t okay, and it would never be. But she could hold him, and so that’s what she was going to do.

The sound of Cameron starting to get out of the car caught her attention. She loosened her hold on Nik, nudging him towards Nate. Stars knew Nate would be better at comfort than Amara. Beyond hugs, booze was the only way she knew how to handle this, and that probably wasn’t a healthy thing to suggest. Not when Nik’s face looked so godsdamned blank.

Nate reached for Nik, cupping his face and pressing their foreheads together. He started to speak, but Amara ignored whatever he said, and moved to corner Cameron. She held up her hands defensively. “I have to ask,” she warned, “Before I go get shit faced. Do you want to take care of the body or do you want me to?”

Cameron looked her dead in the eye, calm as ever. For now, anyway. After making her wait for what felt like an eternity, but was probably more like half a minute, he said, “You take care of it. He’s your cousin.”

She swallowed her responses, cruel and tired alike, and just nodded once. “I’ll let you know when the arrangements are made. Go be broody somewhere else.”

To her surprise, Cameron nodded before walking away. Amara glanced up at the house, and then scooted into the back seat, cradling Lev’s head in her lap. She wiped the excess blood off his face, grimacing, before closing her eyes.

“You were doing really well,” she said softly. “Raz- Gramma was real proud of you, cuz.”

She spent a few minutes collecting herself before she dug out her phone. The first person she called was Cin, but all she said was “Pull Reneé out of school. I’ll talk to you when you get home.” After that, she started dialing again. There was too much to get put into place to waste time crying over Lev. Cameron wasn’t going to want his body in his car forever.

-----

This has happened before, Cameron was thinking, stepping through the open doors of his brother’s house, blood slipping steadily past his fingers. This has happened before and I should have killed Lev the moment I laid eyes on him. He completely ignored anyone and everyone that looked his way, despite almost hoping one of them was idiot enough to try to speak to him.

Cameron went into the nearest washroom and washed the blood from his hands, arms, chest and face before stalking through the house to the nursery. It was harder than it should have been to open the nursery door. Eden was on the other side, chewing on a toy, sitting in the crib before looking up at him.

She must have been napping, Cameron thought, distantly.

The toothless smile around the half-eaten stuffed frog fell when she laid wide eyes on Cameron. He was unable to stop himself from going over and picking her up, even when she started crying against his chest.

Cameron pressed his lips to the top of her head, inhaling her scent, even if he had every reason to rip her to pieces. He just let her cry on him until her cries were nothing more than background noise to the collapsing towers in his mind.

----

Nik hadn’t realized he was still shirtless until Nate started shrugging out of his jacket to put around Nik’s shoulders. “You’re going to catch your death if you keep doing this,” Nate sighed. “Let me go get you something warm? You’re- let me help you.”

Nate went from not feeling anything in the span of the last hour to being pissed off. He pulled Nate’s jacket off and shoved it into Nate’s chest. “I don’t need it. I’ll be fine,” he said, trying to sidestep his brother, but Nate caught his arm.

“Nik.”

“What,” he half snarled.

He hated the all too knowing look on Nate’s face. “This isn’t your fault, redbird.”

Nik ground his teeth. “Let me go.”

Nate instantly did, even if he looked pained to do so. The look on Nate’s face did nothing for the sharp twisting feeling cutting through Nik. “You can hit me if you want,” Nate said. “But it’s not going to make you feel better.”

Nik seriously debated on testing that theory, but shouldered past him and stormed into the house. He damn near bulldozed Bay coming down the hall before instinct had him stopping in place. “Stars, what do you want,” Nik said, annoyed. “Aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“My house,” Bay said, folding his arms. “Bold words for someone trailing blood across my clean floors. But sure, make it sound like I’m the problem in this situation. What is going on?”

“Where’s your booze?” Nik said, walking around Bay. “My boyfriend’s dead and I have no interest in being sober for the next decade.”

“What?” Bay sounded wary and a little alarmed. “Who? Lev? What happened?”

Nik ignored him and went to the kitchen where he started opening doors and cupboards. “Where the fuck is everything,” he muttered, under his breath. At least at Cam’s house he knew where all the good alcohol was. “Is this because Bay’s pregnant?” Nik said, mostly to himself. “What the hell.”

“Nik?” Bay asked, stressed, from the doorway. “What’s going on? Nikolas.”

Nik made his way around the kitchen before finding the stash. “Ah hah. Found it.” He swiped a bottle from the cabinet and settled down on the floor, working the top off and taking a long drink before bothering to look at a very pale Bay at the doorway. “Go get in bed,” Nik said. “There’s nothing you can do.”

Bay opened his mouth again, but promptly shut it and somehow going more pale. He turned around and disappeared from the archway, calling for Nate. Nik decidedly settled back against the cabinet and took another long, steady drink. He doubted this would solve anything, but it did help that he wouldn’t feel anything either.

---

Amara hung up and let her head drop back. This was the worst part of losing a family member; it’d only been- it was too soon after her parents’ death. Too soon, even if she hadn’t been immortal.

She looked down at Lev, petting his hair one last time, before sliding out of the car. She caught Nate’s eye as she stood, and almost rolled her eyes at the concerned look on his face. She circled the car, stopping by his side. “Don’t,” she muttered. “Guilt looks like shit on you. I told you to fuck off, politely, and you did. Politely.”

Nate just shook his head. “You should go check on Nik.”

“You really think I should talk to that asshole after some shit like that? We’ll just-” She snapped her head up. “Bay’s calling for you,” she said, right before the very pregnant omega himself appeared in the doorway.

“Nate,” Bay said, holding his large stomach. “The baby’s coming.”

Nate was up the porch steps in a heartbeat. If he’d had his way, he’d have scooped Bay up, but Bay smacked his arm away.

“I can walk,” Bay snapped at him as Amara trotted up behind Nate.

“Then get walking,” Amara said without pity. “You’re going to give your alpha a heart attack if you keep standing there bitching.”

Nate shot her a dark look, which she ignored. Bay, in turn, ignored her, and turned around so he could waddle back inside. Nate trailed after, and Amara stifled her uncharitable thoughts.

It took her half a second to track down Nik by scent alone. She looked down at him where he was sprawled with a bottle. “Please tell me you’re not stupid enough to have set off Bay’s labor with your fucking big mouth,” she said, scowling down at him.

“He was gonna give birth any day now anyway,” he replied with a shrug. “I just sped it up a little.”

“And you had the audacity to call me selfish, you prick.”

“What? We can’t both be selfish? You don’t have a monopoly on being selfish, Amara.” He stumbled over the word monopoly, slurring enough she was almost impressed at how fast he’d gotten drunk.

She snarled at him softly, but just dropped onto the floor across from him and snatched the bottle from him. When he latched onto her forearm with his fangs, she just switched the bottle to her other hand and took a deep swig.

Nik didn’t let go until she handed it back. Amara watched the blood gushing down her arm for a moment, before she stood up and grabbed one of Nate’s kitchen towels to wrap her arm with. “You bastard, you know I don’t heal as fast as angels.”

Nik’s mouth ticked up. “Do I?”

Amara tossed her bloody towel at his head. “Fucker.”

Nik just let the stupid towel fall to the floor and took another drink. Amara huffed, and wrapped her arm in a fresh towel. She plopped down beside Nik this time and waved her hand in Nik’s direction. “Booze. I need a hit.”

“Get your own.”

“No.”

He shrugged. “Then stay sober.”

“No.” She reached for the bottle. “I knew him longer than you did. Gimme.”

Nik proceeded to dump the whole bottle in her lap before he got up to get a new bottle. Amara gaped at him for a moment, before throwing the bottle past him. He didn’t even flinch when the bottle shattered beside him on the counter. “Fuck you, Nikolas.”

“You knew him longer, but you got him killed,” Nik said.

Amara went still, blinking at him. “Excuse me? What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Did I stutter?”

She stood, narrowing her eyes. “Lev’s death was not my fucking fault,” she snarled.

“You were the one to introduce us, you never should have left him with us when you know that we are poison. You should have fucking known better, unless that special magic trick you got is horseshit after all.”

Amara didn’t register pulling back to punch Nik until she landed a hit with the wrong fucking hand. She bent over slightly, holding her still bleeding arm close. “Motherfucker.”

“You hit like a bitch,” Nik said, licking his lip.

“Just because you’re fucking guilty doesn’t mean you can blame this on me,” Amara snapped, straightening. “You’re not fucking poision, and he was fucking happy. Don’t you dare diminish the joy you both brought him, not now, not when he’s gone.”

“If he was so happy, then why did he leave?” Nik demanded. His dark brown eyes were bloodshot. “Why did he leave me?”

Amara lifted her chin stubbornly. “Even I need a fucking break from you sometimes, Nikolas. He was stressed and tired. I don’t know what all was going on but he didn’t say a word to me.”

“How do you expect me to believe a damned word our of your mouth?” Nik said, leaning against the counter. “You’re a liar by trade. Everything out of your mouth is a lie.”

“When have I ever lied to you, you prick?”

“For all I know you’ve been lying to me since the day we met,” Nik said easily.

Amara ground her teeth, only barely stopping herself from winding back and punching him again. “Nik,” she warned. “Watch what you fucking say.”

“Or else what?”

Amara shoved close, pressing one of her blades under his chin. “Don’t. Push. Me.”

Nik just smiled a bit. “You won’t do it,” he said, looking her dead in the eye. “You like me too much.”

Before Amara could test that theory, Cameron said behind her, “Let him go.”

Amara let go, sheathing her blade. “He was asking for it, Cameron,” she said sharply. “Leash your brat before I shove my blade so far up his ass he can taste the metal.”

Nik smirked at her, but it was Cameron who said, “Of course he’s asking for it. It’s Nik. And you’re falling for his bait.”

-----------

Cameron was sure that Nik would have let Amara ram that damn knife through his throat, and if Cameron had shown up just a second later, she probably would have. “The only thing you’re going to do is step away from my omega before I ram that blade up your ass,” Cameron said, coolly. He ignored the way Nik’s brow ticked and watched Amara. “I’m sure Renee wouldn’t want to lose both her cousin and her sister on the same day.”

Wisely, Amara backed away from Nik, who almost looked disappointed. “I got someone coming to get the body out of the car,” she finally said. “I’ll call tomorrow when everything’s arranged.”

“You do that,” Cameron said, coldly. When Amara shouldered past him and disappeared from the room, Cameron seized Nik by the jaw. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing,” he hissed. “You want to die that bad, don’t be a damned coward and do it yourself.”

Nik stared stonily at him and Cameron let him go. “This is my fault,” Cameron said. “None of this is on your hands, so don’t act like it is. You’re clean of this.”

Nik sucked in a ragged breath and dropped his head against Cameron’s chest. Despite the pain jolting through his back, Cameron pulled him in tighter. He didn’t protect Lev, hopefully, he could at least do this job without failing, again.

tagging: @idreamonpaper @incandescent-creativity @livvywrites @solangelo3088 @halstudies @alittleyellowdinosaur

#ch: nik #ch: cameron #cameron and nik and lev #my writing #hell to pay #writeblr #writers on tumblr #wip boost #omegaverse #angels and demons

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vexedtonightmares · 4 years

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last dance (elu ballet au) chapter dix-sept - epilogue

Lucas is in his final year at the Paris Opera Ballet School and he’ll be damned if he lets his former friend-turned-rival Eliott steal the lead role in their production of Swan Lake.

aka- lucas and eliott are rivals who are forced to room together for their final year of ballet school before they try to enter the company. we can all see where this is going.

i. ii. iii. iv. v. vi. vii. viii. ix. x. xi. xii. xiii. xiv. xv. xvi. xvii.

ao3

it’s so strange to be at the end of this fic, but thanks so everyone who’s read, commented, given me kudos, or supported this fic in any way. this version of lucas and eliott really mean a lot to me, and i’m glad they mean a lot to some of you too.

also sorry not sorry this is nearly 20k words but i’m a sucker for an epilogue.

l’amour gagne toujours. alt er love.

**tw: eating disorder, ed relapse, bipolar disorder, mentions of manic/ depressive episodes**

6 MONTHS LATER

Lucas sat frozen in his chair and set his phone down with shaking hands. He couldn’t decide if it was a good kind of shaking or a bad kind of shaking yet. He was fucked, he was so utterly fucked. He wished he had more time, but it had been six months, so he should have known this day would come eventually.

Eliott called out as he entered their suite, nearly singing his voice was so full of love for Lucas. It made him soften, just a bit, until he remembered why his hands had been shaking and his heart dropped to his stomach.

He couldn’t believe they only had a few days left at school, it seemed like just yesterday he was standing on stage performing as Prince Siegfried in their production of Swan Lake. It seemed like just yesterday he was auditioning for the show. It was crazy how long and how short six months could feel.

For example, for the last four months Lucas had been able to overcome his eating disorder. Not completely, he didn’t think he’d ever overcome it completely, but he was in a much healthier mindset now, thanks to Angelique and his friends and Eliott, and he really thought he might be able to make this last. There were still some daily struggles, mostly with his OCD and anxiety, but his medication did help, and so did therapy.

His clothes fit him better too, he didn’t feel ashamed every time he looked in the mirror. Instead of seeing skin and bones he saw muscle, color in his cheeks, and less darkness under his eyes. He didn’t hate catching glimpses of himself anymore, and Eliott made jokes about his ass way too often, but he still appreciated the normalization of it all.

He’d tried to do the same for Eliott, never be overbearing but provide support when Eliott had days that were too bad or too good, or maybe even a mix of the two. They’d fallen into a nice rhythm, the two of them, and their friends teased them endlessly for acting like a married couple. Lucas secretly warmed inside every time they said so, not that he’d ever admit it aloud.

Eliott poked his head into the room, grinning ear to ear. “G’day mate,” he said in an exaggerated Australian accent, and Lucas’ stomach roiled over itself again. That was the newest development in the great story of Lucas and Eliott, their decision for their futures. It hadn’t been a precise thing, they’d just taken a map and spun around a few times with their eyes closed, pointing and seeing where their fingers might land. Australia, it seemed, was what the fates had decreed for them, and they were both more excited than they could put into words.

They’d both used a weekend earlier in the spring to audition for the company, and they both made it, celebrating all night when they’d found out. Most of their friends were staying in Europe, it seemed, but Sofiane had also auditioned for the Australian Ballet and gotten in unbeknownst to any of them. It would be fun to be there with him though, Lucas and Eliott had rationalized, especially given the fact that Lucas was much closer with him now than he had been six months or a year ago.

Eliott frowned and entered the room, and Lucas realized he hadn’t responded. The truth was, he didn’t know how to. He’d gone with Manon and Daphné when they’d auditioned for the Royal Ballet for moral support, but they’d convinced him to audition last minute, and the call he’d just received had offered him a place in the Royal Ballet, should he want it. The bad thing, the thing that was making his heart beat rapidly and his stomach ache with unease, was that he did want it. More than Australia, despite all the plans he’d already made.

Eliott tapped Lucas’ wrist with one finger, grounding him and drawing him back into the present moment. “Are you ok?” Eliott asked, voice coated in sweetness.

Lucas nodded, then shook his head, then froze again, searching Eliott’s face for the right way to tell him that he wanted to go to London. Maybe it wasn’t too late for Eliott to audition, too.

“What’s wrong?” Eliott asked, sitting down on Lucas’ bed, probably still trying to gauge what Lucas was feeling.

Lucas didn’t want to say anything, because if he said it, then that made it real. And he didn’t want it to be real. But he did. But he didn’t. He just really didn’t want to part ways with Eliott, but the more he thought about it, the more he knew London was where he belonged.

“I was offered a contract for the Royal Ballet.” He wasn’t consciously aware of opening his mouth to speak, and judging by Eliott’s expression, maybe he hadn’t even spoken at all. He swallowed and opened his mouth, prepared to repeat, just in case, when Eliott sat back abruptly.

“I heard you.”

The softness in his voice wasn’t there anymore, and Lucas panicked internally. He never should have said anything, he never should have answered the call. If he didn’t know that he had a place in the Royal Ballet if he wanted it, he probably wouldn’t have wanted it, and he and Eliott could live out their Australian dreams together. They’d only chosen Australia because Lucas’ finger had landed on it on the map, Eliott probably hadn’t even wanted to go there in the first place. He shouldn’t have said anything, he shouldn’t have—

“Do you… want to accept?” Eliott’s words were slow, and Lucas still couldn’t get a read on him.

Tears pricked the corners of Lucas’ eyes as he admitted, “I do.”

In an instant, any defenses Eliott had built up dropped completely. He pulled Lucas closer by his hands, desk chair rolling over to where Eliott was still seated on the bed. His eyes were open and understanding and Lucas was struck with the feeling that he didn’t deserve someone like Eliott. Eliott laced their fingers together.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” was his only question, which seemed justified but also way too mild a reaction.

“I didn’t think I’d make it,” he answered honestly. His audition had been a mess, at least in terms of preparation. He’d probably danced fairly well, but he’d mostly done it because Manon and Daphné were excellent with peer pressure and he’d been too happy as of late to worry too much about it. He never really thought it was an option until it was one.

Eliott’s expression changed only in small amounts, the slight furrowing of his eyebrows or downturn of his mouth. “I didn’t even know you auditioned.”

Lucas shrugged helplessly. “Manon and Daphné convinced me, you know how they are. I really didn’t think that it would matter, because I was almost entirely certain I wouldn’t get offered a contract.”

“But what about Australia?”

What about Australia. That was the question, wasn’t it. “I wasn’t feigning enthusiasm, just so you know. Until like fifteen minutes ago I was all in,” Lucas said, knowing how bad it sounded regardless.

Eliott dropped his head but didn’t drop Lucas’ hands. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas scrambled for an explanation, realizing that there wasn’t one. He should have just been honest from the start, then maybe Eliott would be going to the Royal Ballet with him. His voice took on a strained tone. “I really don’t have an answer.”

“I don’t want to go without you, but I would never forgive myself if I made you come with me,” Eliott admitted.

“I want to be with you,” Lucas promised, “I just… I can’t explain it. When I was in London, I felt something inside my chest, a feeling that wouldn’t go away. I haven’t felt it in a long time, at least not in relation to ballet, and I think I’d be stupid not to chase it.”

“So, you’re sure, then, that you don’t… that you want to go to London?” Eliott confirmed. His head was still down, so Lucas couldn’t see his eyes and how they might be reacting. It didn’t seem right that he should be able to decide something so monumental so quickly, but maybe it was a sign that he was making the right choice.

“We’ll still talk every day, right? And come home for the holidays, or visit each other here and there. And who knows, this probably won’t be forever, maybe I’ll realize I made the wrong decision and come running to Australia in a few months,” Lucas tried to joke, but part of him was serious.

Eliott finally looked up at him, through his eyelashes. “Lucas, if you’re going to do this, you need to stop worrying about me, ok? Of course I’d rather be with you, but I’ll be fine, and so will you. Better than fine, because we’ll be living our dreams! Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right? Don’t go into this thinking about plans to fall back on, go into it as if this is it. I don’t want you to live half a life on my account.”

“I can’t imagine sleeping without you,” Lucas said, taking in all of Eliott’s words and processing them to the best of his current ability.

Eliott just shrugged, squeezing his hands. “Well then we’ll just have to make the most of the time we have left. Or I could print a pillowcase with my face on it for you to use in London.”

Lucas laughed, vocal chords still thick with unshed tears. “That’s not a terrible idea…”

“Wait, you have somewhere to live, right?” Eliott asked, just as the thought came into Lucas’ own mind. He did not, because he hadn’t been planning to be in London.

“Well, the thing about that is…” Lucas trailed off, but Eliott simply rolled his eyes fondly.

“We’re going to figure that out before anything else.”

“Eliott, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” Eliott reassured him, pulling him closer again until he was practically in Eliott’s lap and not on his chair anymore. Lucas leaned in, waiting to see if Eliott would respond, and he did, meeting Lucas for a short but emotion filled kiss. It told Lucas everything that he needed to know and let the anxiety ease its way out of his mind and out of his body.

When they pulled away Lucas looked at Eliott with heavily hooded eyes. “I still love you as much as ever.”

“I know,” Eliott said, “I never thought you didn’t. Sometimes we have to do things for ourselves, though, even if we think they might hurt the people we love. Never choose me over yourself, Lucas, not when it comes to your happiness.”

“But what about you? Did you even want to go to Australia? It’s so far away, and you don’t know anyone there, and—”

“Lucas, Australia still sounds fucking amazing to me, I promise. Plus, Sofiane will be there too. I need something completely new, I think, and what’s more new than Australia?” The usual light had returned to Eliott’s eyes, and Lucas finally allowed himself to exhale. Eliott went on about Australia and all the things he was excited for, and Lucas indulged him, even chiming in with a few things he was excited for in London. A nine hour time difference wasn’t ideal, but they’d both have completely different perspectives on the world at the same time, and that was kind of cool. In a sense, it was almost like they’d be living in different universes, bringing the multiverse theory to life.

“Just don’t go falling in love with another Lucas,” Lucas said, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck.

Eliott scoffed, like the statement had offended him. “I could never. Not in a million years or universes.”

So they kissed again, and Lucas breathed a little easier, excited for all the possibilities ahead of him and still overwhelmingly in love with the boy who’d urged him to chase new dreams even when the old ones would have made him happier.

1 YEAR LATER

The winter wind nipped at Lucas’ cheeks, but he could hardly feel it, too hopped up on adrenaline. This was the first time he’d be seeing Eliott in person since he’d left for Australia, and he was so excited he could hardly sit still. They’d debated meeting back in Paris, but Eliott had wanted to experience Christmas in London and see Lucas’ new home of sorts, so that was what they had planned for.

Eliott’s parents obviously wanted to see him as well, so he and Lucas would go back to Paris at the end of their holiday break from their respective companies and meet up with them as well as some of their other friends from school before Eliott left again for Australia and Lucas left again for London. They only had two weeks total, one in London, one in Paris, and Lucas planned on taking advantage of every single minute.

He’d been living with Manon and Daphné since they’d all moved to London and joined the Royal Ballet, which wasn’t as horrible as it sounded. They were still the cutest couple he knew (other than himself and Eliott, obviously) and living with two girls was much more organized than with Yann or Eliott over the years. They were spending the holidays back in Paris with Mika and Lisa, Manon and Lucas’ old flatmates, probably so they could visit with Emma, Imane, and Alexia as well. As far as he knew, Emma and Imane had stayed in Paris at the Paris Opera Ballet, and Alexia was attending university in the city as well. Imane and Emma had both been shocked to have been offered contracts in the company, but they deserved it. He was pretty sure Chloé and Sarah in their year had stayed in Paris as well, but everyone else had dispersed across the world.

Yann had gone to Berlin, and he’d been loving it based on what he’d told Lucas. Lucas was also dying to see him, he’d gone far too long without best friend idiocy hours. Arthur, too, Lucas longed to see, but he wouldn’t have to wait as long. Arthur was supposed to meet him and Eliott in London for dinner later that night, choosing to spend the holidays in a city that didn’t remind him of things he’d rather forget. Lucas knew the feeling. He’d offered to have Arthur stay in the flat he shared with Manon and Daphné, since the two of them were gone, but Arthur had insisted on staying elsewhere with no explanation. He’d gone to the Dutch Ballet and was enjoying it quite well considering the fact he’d wanted to quit a year ago. Lucas felt like Arthur might have been keeping something from him, but he never pried, knowing Arthur would tell him when he was ready. Hopefully he wasn’t in love with Lucas again, but he didn’t think that was the case.

Lucas had made some new friends too, while in London, though none of them compared to the ones he’d grown up dancing with. Noora, from Norway, was really close with Manon, and they were eerily similar in Lucas’ opinion. She’d originally gone to London to be with her boyfriend, and she’d considered quitting ballet for him, but in the end she realized that she was worth more than her relationship with him and if he didn’t support her dreams then she didn’t need him around. It seemed to have paid off, because Noora was only two years older than them but she was already a principal dancer in the company.

Daphné had been jealous of Manon and Noora for a while, but Noora had apparently been seeing a lot more of one of her old high school friends recently, Eva, and she’d enlisted Manon and Daphné’s help in winning her heart.

There was also Sander, who reminded Lucas a lot of Eliott, but with bleached blond hair. Sander was the most chaotic of their new friends, but Lucas appreciated that energy because the girls were overall too sensible for him. Well, other than Isa. She and Lucas had hit it off right off the bat and she kept claiming he reminded her of one of her friends back in the Netherlands and would have to introduce the two of them when he came to visit, which he was supposedly doing over the holidays. Lucas wouldn’t mind hanging out with them and Eliott, he thought Eliott would like Isa a lot, because there was no way not to like Isa.

“Excuse me, do you know where I might find my boyfriend?” someone said to Lucas’ left and immediately his heart started to flutter. He’d been so distracted he’d forgotten where he was and why he was there.

He decided to play along. “What does he look like? A handsome French sort with dazzling eyes and a great ass?”

Looking Eliott in the eyes for the first time in six months was intoxicating, and Lucas could tell that Eliott felt the same way. They both stood there frozen, just looking at each other like they were the only two people in the world. Then Eliott snapped out of it. “I was going to say he kind of looks like a hedgehog, actually. Short… fluffy hair…”

He didn’t have the opportunity to finish, Lucas threw himself into Eliott’s arms and Eliott accepted him readily, pressing their lips together in what felt like the first kiss they’d ever shared. Maybe they looked a little dramatic, and maybe people were judging them, but Lucas didn’t care one bit. His soul had ached in Eliott’s absence, and now he felt whole again.

“… but he does have a great ass,” Eliott finished once they separated, goofy smile on his face.

“I love you so much,” Lucas said, not even embarrassed by the fact that he was on the verge of tears.

Eliott’s hands brushed both sides of his face as he pulled Lucas closer to him, resting their foreheads together. “I love you too. I missed you so much— god, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Let’s start with a nap,” Lucas suggested, leaning away and holding his hand out for Eliott to take. Eliott took it, and they started to walk away, Eliott dragging a suitcase behind him.

“I’m not that tired—” Eliott tried, but Lucas shook his head.

“Three things. One, yes you are, jet lag is a bitch, two, I’m not about to have you fall asleep during dinner with Arthur later, and three, you have no idea how much I missed sleeping with you.” Lucas ticked off each one on his free hand, and Eliott raised his eyebrows suggestively. He blushed bright red. “I meant— you know what I meant.” He paused, growing redder still. “But that too.”

Needless to say, they made their way to Lucas’ flat much more quickly after that.

——

Eliott looked much more well rested by the time they started walking to dinner, even though they really hadn’t slept that much. First he’d had to give Eliott the grand tour of the two bedroom flat he’d come to call home (well, not first, first, they’d had some other business to attend to before that), and then they’d talked for quite a while, not even about ballet, just about life.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t spoken nearly every day they’d been apart, but being there in person was entirely new and entirely the same all at once. They fell quickly back into old patterns and Lucas didn’t think his smile had left his face once, even while he slept tucked into Eliott’s side.

It was snowing while they walked, and Lucas had offered to pay for a cab, but Eliott insisted on walking, taking advantage of all the city had to offer. In such a short amount of time Lucas had really come to adore London. It didn’t compare to Paris, of course it didn’t, but he could see himself being happy there for a very long time. He didn’t want to say anything, but he’d secretly been harboring the fantasy of Eliott joining him there next year.

Eliott was wearing a beanie and his cheeks were pink from the cold, but his hand was laced through Lucas’ and his eyes were full of wonder like the cold was the last thing on his mind. He kept rambling about all the things he wanted to do while they were together and Lucas had barely responded, watching and listening with such adoration usually only reserved for puppies on Instagram.

Two hands appeared over Lucas’ eyes and he laughed shortly until he realized it couldn’t have been Eliott, whose hand was still in his. His brows furrowed, but then he realized that if Eliott wasn’t freaking out there was only one person it could be.

“Arthur?” he asked, and the hands fell from his eyes, the boy in question jumping around to stand right in front of him.

“Lulu!” They both broke into wide grins meeting halfway for a tight hug. Arthur and Eliott hugged afterwards, with only a little bit less enthusiasm. Lucas wondered briefly how many people from school Eliott had kept in touch with.

“How have you two been?” Arthur asked, falling into step beside them.

Eliott and Lucas shared a glance, deciding how to answer and who was going to answer first. Eliott raised his eyebrows, and Lucas spoke. “Better now that we’re together.”

“Ugh, did not miss you two being all sappy and gross, that’s for sure,” Arthur said, pretending to gag. They entered the restaurant, Lucas catching a curly brown haired boy’s eye as they did.

Lucas looked away from the boy who was still looking at them, rolling his eyes at Arthur. Eliott teased, nudging Arthur’s side, “Aww, we’ll find you a Lucas someday, then we’ll complain about how gross and sappy you are.”

To Lucas’ surprise, Arthur flushed bright red, blinking rapidly. His eyes caught on something over Lucas’ shoulder. “About that—”

He was cut off by the same boy Lucas had just locked eyes with clearing his throat and blushing either from the cold or from something else entirely. Lucas looked at him, then at Eliott, then back at him, but he was no longer paying attention to Lucas or Eliott.

“I was wondering when you’d get here,” the boy said in a soft voice, to Arthur. Arthur was still bright red but his eyes held a gleam of joy.

“Here I am,” he said, and both boys grinned stupidly. Eliott and Lucas exchanged another glance, this one with wide eyes.

The boy took a small step closer to Arthur. “There you are.”

Lucas felt like he was encroaching on something and briefly wondered if this was how other people felt about being around him and Eliott. Of course, he could have been reading into things… but nope, the boy with the curly hair just kissed Arthur and Arthur looked like he’d made it to heaven and was never coming back down.

Eliott cleared his throat softly, more to remind Arthur and the boy of their presence than to intrude on something intimate. Both boys turned to them with wide eyes, the curly haired boy looking happy and open and Arthur’s expression shifting to something more nervous.

“This is my boyfriend, Lucas,” Arthur said, eyes looking everywhere but Lucas and Eliott.

Lucas broke into a wide grin that he tried to downplay for the other boy’s sake. “Nice to meet you, what’s your name?” Lucas asked.

Arthur looked at him with exasperation. “Lucas.”

“What?” Lucas demanded defensively. Was it so weird to ask someone’s name?

Arthur’s boyfriend laughed, shaking his head. “No, my name, it’s Lucas, Lucas Van der Heijden. I assume you’re the famous other Lucas I’ve heard so much about?”

Lucas shut his eyes in embarrassment, trying to figure out how to not look like an idiot from here on out. “Fuck, sorry. Yeah, I’m other Lucas, and this is my boyfriend, Eliott.”

Other Lucas, who Lucas decided he was going to refer to in his head as VDH so he wouldn’t confuse himself, had an accent that sounded vaguely familiar, though Lucas couldn’t quite place it. Just as Lucas was about to inquire into VDH a bit more, the host gestured for them to follow to a table. Lucas met Arthur’s eyes with a look that said, You are not off the hook for not telling me, and Arthur levelled him with one that said, Sure, Mr. I dated Eliott in secret for months while we all lived and danced together. Which, fair enough.

They sat in a booth, Eliott and Lucas across from VDH and Arthur, and Eliott asked the question that was on Lucas’ mind. “So how and when did you guys meet?”

“We dance together, Luc is in the Dutch Ballet as well,” Arthur answered, and Lucas smiled slightly at the nickname use. It was like when Eliott called him Lu, so intoxicating and so intimate all at once.

VDH nodded, grinning at Arthur. “I’m from the Netherlands, so I graciously introduced him to all the best things our country has to offer.”

Ah, so that’s where the accent was from, and he recognized it because of Isa. “One of my friends at the Royal Ballet is from the Netherlands,” Lucas said, trying to relate in any way he could. He liked VDH so far, but he was always scared of new conversations with new people.

VDH perked up. “Oh, really? That’s awesome, I have a friend here too. That’s why we’re here, actually, I wanted to visit her here for the holidays and Arthur wanted to visit you, so voila.” That answered the question of where Arthur was staying.

“How’d she end up in London?” Eliott asked, thanking the server who supplied them with menus and glasses of water.

“Same as Lucas, she’s in the Royal Ballet,” Arthur answered.

“Isa Keijser?” Lucas asked at the same time VDH said, “Isa Keijser? I don’t know if you know her.”

They stared at each other for a minute, then burst out laughing. “You must be the French dumbass she’s always talking about, then,” VDH said with half a grin, and Lucas scoffed.

“She could very well be talking about Manon or Daphné,” he argued, and Eliott levelled him with a stare. He rolled his eyes, cracking a small smile. “But, yeah, she was probably talking about me. She’s told me about you too, actually, she just never referred to you by name.”

“It would be so her style to intentionally not tell you my name to confuse us when and if we met for the first time,” VDH sighed fondly. Lucas laughed, nodding in agreement. The waiter returned and Lucas realized he hadn’t looked at the menu. Truthfully, he wasn’t very hungry, but he wasn’t about to say anything when Eliott and Arthur were there and that was the entire reason they’d met up.

He wasn’t slipping into old habits, he was fine. Things had just been so busy leading up to the holidays and he’d been missing Eliott extra and food was never something he’d paid enough attention to. Ok, maybe he was slipping back into old habits, but he had it under control. Now that Eliott was there, he already felt better.

Regardless, he ordered something random off the menu, knowing that Eliott would probably like it if he didn’t, and tuned back into the conversations being had. Eliott was telling Arthur and VDH about Australia, about the places he’d been and the people he’d met. Apparently Sofiane had hit it off immediately with two dancers from Germany, Mohammed and Amira. He said Amira reminded him of a slightly softer but no less badass version of Imane, something Sofiane likely noticed too. Eliott had hit it off with an Italian boy named Niccolo, who he’d told Lucas about already. He wasn’t a dancer, but he was a piano accompanist and he composed music in his free time. Lucas had joked that Niccolo would replace him as the composer for Polaris and Eliott had assured him that could never happen, not in a million years. Even though Lucas had been mostly joking, it warmed his heart to know that Polaris was still their thing. Shay was another one of Eliott’s friends in Australia, from America, and Lucas had met her over Facetime a few times. She reminded him of himself in some ways, kind of like Manon and Noora, and he really wanted to meet her when he visited Eliott.

Lucas was surprised but glad to see a new light in Arthur’s eyes as he talked about dancing in the Dutch Ballet, and Lucas could tell that Arthur was a little surprised by it himself. Arthur had found a completely random flat when he’d moved to the Netherlands, and his roommates, Liv and Ralph, were already friends with VDH, so they’d been forced to hang out quite often. Apparently VDH was practically the star of their company, but Arthur had given him a run for his money. Instead of turning it into a rivalry, they’d slowly become friends, then more, and the rest was history. Lucas knew who Liv was, vaguely, because Isa talked about her friend Liv a lot and he assumed this had to be the same person. It was crazy, how small of a world it was that they lived in.

Their conversations flowed nicely the rest of the time they sat at the restaurant, and Lucas pretended not to notice the small looks Eliott was giving him all night. He didn’t know what it was all about, but he figured Eliott would tell him later when they were alone.

He was glad that Arthur had found someone— his own Lucas if you will— that made him feel like the best version of himself all the time. Sure, he didn’t necessarily need it, but he deserved it. He supposed he’d never have to wonder again if another universe Lucas and another universe Arthur had ended up together, because somehow they had in this one. Maybe VDH was a parallel version of Lucas, wouldn’t that be something.

After what might have been anywhere between two and four hours, Lucas noticed Eliott’s eyes starting to droop and they decided to call it a night, promising to hang out together again before Eliott and Lucas left for Paris. Once they parted ways, Lucas tucked himself close into Eliott’s side and started going on about VDH, Arthur, and VDH and Arthur. He paused when he realized Eliott wasn’t responding.

“Is everything ok?” he asked. Maybe Eliott was just tired, he rationalized.

Eliott looked at him, face serious, voice casual. “You barely ate anything.”

Lucas’ heart dropped to his stomach. He should have known Eliott would notice those things. It hadn’t been intentional, it really hadn’t, he just didn’t have an appetite.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Lucas said, “But I’m not— I’m still doing good, I promise.”

“Lucas…” Eliott started, but Lucas cut him off.

“I promise, Eliott. Ok? I just get distracted by conversation when we eat, you know that.” He was vaguely aware that he sounded a bit like he was pleading, which didn’t bode well for him.

Eliott sighed, stopping to turn and face him head on. “I just want to make sure that you’re ok. You’re the most important person to me, and I worry about you even when I know I shouldn’t.”

Lucas stepped closer so they were toe to toe. “I worry about you too. It’s the nature of caring, to worry, but I believe in you, and I know that you can handle whatever life throws your way, you’re too strong not to. I need you to think the same of me.”

“I do, Lucas, but—” Eliott cut himself off, entwining his pointer fingers with Lucas’. He continued, “I trust you. And I believe in you. You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met, I know you can handle whatever life throws at you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t wish you didn’t have to, you know?”

Lucas did know. He’d known it since he’d come to Eliott’s house and found him curled into a ball on his bed looking like he never wanted to leave. If he could make it so Eliott only ever experience the good in life, he would do it in a heartbeat. He nodded. “I know.”

“I just love you too much to ever want to see you anything less than one hundred percent happy, which I know is a stupid dream, and I do love when you’re a grumpy little shit too, but you deserve the world even though you have a habit of forgetting that,” Eliott said.

Lucas closed his eyes, letting the winter wind settle across his face and letting Eliott’s words be imprinted in his mind. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you too.”

“Now why don’t we go home, and I’ll make us both a big blueberry-bacon muffin filled breakfast tableau tomorrow morning,” Lucas suggested, ghosting his lips close to Eliott’s. Eliott smiled leaning in ever so slightly.

“That sounds amazing, love,” he agreed, leaning in further, and Lucas pulled back.

He squinted. “Love?”

“When in London,” Eliott said with a dopey grin and a shrug, and Lucas kissed him senseless right there in the middle of the street. Everything was how it should be.

18 MONTHS LATER

Lucas was panicking. None of it had been intentional, but he’d skipped over a month of therapy sessions and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten an actual meal, and it was starting to show. He wasn’t quite where he’d been in his last year of school, but he was pretty close. He’d ridden the high of seeing Eliott for a week or two after the holidays, but then they’d started casting and rehearsal for a new show and even though he was just in the corps rehearsals were a million times more taxing than they had been at school and he felt himself slipping ever so slightly day by day without Eliott there to ground him. It didn’t help that Eliott had seemingly forgotten about him, Facetime conversations going from daily to weekly to whenever they could find time. He knew Eliott was busy with his show as well, but it still stung to not hear from him for days on end.

He’d wanted to tell Eliott about everything that was going on inside his mind to try to find some clarity, but he didn’t want their first real conversation in almost a month to be about something so negative. So, he got better at hiding things again, feeling ashamed for doing so but having no intention of stopping. He wouldn’t see Eliott in person for a little while anyway, so all he had to do was get himself back on track by then and he’d never have to own up to the fact that he’d been faking happiness for a few months.

Manon had noticed, and she’d tried to talk to him, but when he didn’t want to talk there was nothing she, or anyone (besides Eliott) could do to make him. Still, she was watching him closely, and he knew that she’d intervene if things got too bad again.

It was Saturday, so he had a day off and had planned on spending it in bed watching tv and trying to forget that Eliott had cancelled their Facetime date for that day, even though he didn’t have rehearsals on weekends either.

The buzzer to the flat rang and Lucas rolled his eyes, wondering if Daphné had forgotten her keys again. “Manon, the door,” he yelled, receiving no response. Groaning, he got out of bed as the buzzer rang again, peeking his head into Manon and Daphné’s room and finding it empty. He didn’t know when Manon had left, but cursed her for making him get out of bed, especially if it was because she and Daphné had both forgotten their keys.

He pressed the button to let them in, unlocking the door to their unit and hoping they would just walk right in instead of waiting for him to open that one too. Just as he reached his bedroom door, there was a knock, and he groaned again, yelling, “It’s open!”

A muffled voice came from the other side of the door. “Special delivery for Lucas Lallemant!”

Lucas froze, because he recognized that voice. Even though he might have been hallucinating, he ran to the door as fast as his feet would carry him, throwing it open and finding Eliott on the other side, a bouquet of flowers in hand. His smile was so bright that it nearly brought Lucas to tears and Lucas launched himself into Eliott’s arms, pulling him into the flat.

Eliott threw the flowers onto the table before fully hugging Lucas back, stiffening once he did. Lucas pulled away, confused. “Everything ok?”

Eliott looked down at him, face pale, then blinked a few times and forced a smile. “Yeah, of course.”

Lucas smiled, lacing his arms around Eliott’s neck. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed you,” Eliott said with a shrug, “Wanted to surprise you.”

Lucas’ heart melted as he buried his face in Eliott’s chest. Eliott continued, “I know I haven’t been the best boyfriend recently. I’m really sorry about it, and I wanted to make it up to you. I can’t stay long because of rehearsals, but I wanted to make sure you know that you’re still the most important person in my life.”

“I missed you so much,” Lucas said, holding Eliott tighter than ever. “Want to…” He trailed off suggestively, nodding to his bedroom. Eliott’s face turned red but his eyes were bright with longing and desire.

“Of course,” Eliott responded, and that was all Lucas needed to crash their lips together, stumbling across the flat until they made it into his room, slamming the door shut behind them in case Manon or Daphné arrived while they were occupied.

Lucas pulled off Eliott’s shirt, peppering kisses down his neck and his torso, making Eliott’s breaths ragged. Eliott’s fingers fiddled with the bottom of Lucas’s shirt and Lucas grinned into another kiss, allowing them to separate only long enough to remove his own shirt. He moved to pull Eliott back in for a kiss when Eliott stopped him, same wide eyed anxious look he’d had on his face moments earlier.

Lucas frowned folding their hands together, and Eliott wrenched them apart, leaving Lucas to go sit on the edge of the bed with his face in his hands. Lucas didn’t know what was wrong, what had changed. When Eliott finally looked at him, his eyes were red, like he was on the verge of tears.

“You told me everything was fine,” Eliott said, “You told me not to worry, and that you’d tell me if there ever was a problem.”

Lucas froze where he stood, understanding more clearly the cause of Eliott’s current distance. He picked his shirt up off the floor and put it back on, wrapping his arms around his body as if that would do anything to cover it. “There isn’t a problem,” he tried, but Eliott shook his head, devastation turning to anger.

“Lucas there’s barely anything left of you.”

Lucas shook his head, sitting down next to Eliott and reaching for one of his hands. Eliott pulled away, looking betrayed.

“How long has this been going on again? It’s been this way since Christmastime, right? Maybe even before?” Eliott broke off, putting his head in his hands again. “You don’t trust me, is that it? Lucas don’t you see what you’re doing to yourself?”

“Maybe it isn’t about you!” Lucas said angrily, and Eliott blinked up at him in shock. That was a lie, a little bit of it was about Eliott, but he wouldn’t give Eliott that satisfaction of thinking he was the only thing in Lucas’ world.

Eliott’s voice turned pleading. “Lu, don’t you see that I’m just upset because I care about you?”

“I know that you do.” Lucas ran a hand through his hair, sobs bubbling up in his chest and begging to break free. Eliott looked at him, really looked at him, and the dam broke wide open. “I just feel so alone. I have so many people here that I really like, but none of them are you, none of them are Yann or Arthur or Basile or Imane. I have Manon, but she has Daphné, and every time I see them, I think of you. But I don’t even have you, not really, because you have a beautiful amazing life without me, and I’m just the fucking mess of a boy you stupidly fell in love with. I’m good, but I’m not good enough. I was only ever good enough for you and that’s not even true anymore. The only thing you do is worry about me, I can see it in your eyes, and that’s not a relationship. Maybe you do have reason to worry, but I don’t feel like a real person when that’s all I see when I look at you. Worry, worry, worry. I’m not a child, I’m an adult, and yeah, I’m fucked up on so many levels that you probably should worry, but I also fear I’m never going to get better until people stop fucking worrying. You care about me, you care about me, you all fucking care about me, but I’m always the problem.”

Eliott’s arms wrapped around Lucas as he sobbed, spilling tears onto Eliott’s shirt. It was a new shirt, Lucas noticed, and for some reason that made him cry harder. “I’m tired, Eliott, I’m so tired, because I never sleep anymore, and I feel like I’m dying all the time. I don’t want to die, but I think I might and I don’t know how to stop it from happening.”

“Lucas, Lucas, look at me.” Eliott’s eyes were wide and wild as he held Lucas’ face in his hands. “You’re not dying. I won’t let that happen, ok? I could never let that happen. I’m not— ok, maybe I am a little bit worried about you, but I promise it comes from a place of love. I try to live minute by minute, like you told me when I was diagnosed, and I want you to keep trying to do that too. In this minute, how about we breathe, ok?”

Lucas nodded, infinitesimally, tears still streaking down his face. Eliott breathed in deeply, and Lucas followed, feeling his eyes water and his mouth wobble even as he did so. Eliott kept his hands on Lucas’ face, breathing out and waiting for Lucas to follow. They did that a couple more times, until Lucas’ heart rate was back to normal even if slow tears were still falling.

“Lucas,” Eliott said, dropping his hands to Lucas’ hands. “I don’t love you because I have to, I love you because I want to, and I choose to every day.”

Lucas shook his head. “You say that but—”

“Lucas. I love you. There are no buts.”

Lucas sniffed, clenching Eliott’s hands in his. “I was so happy. I was doing so good.”

“We all have setbacks. Healing takes time, and in that time we’re allowed moments of weakness, because they only make us stronger going forward.” He paused, looking like he had more to say but didn’t want to say it. “I, um, had a depressive episode, a little while back. When I stopped responding like I usually did. I remembered you talking about not wanting to worry, and I figured it would pass because I was taking my medication and going to therapy, but it didn’t pass for a long time. I still feel like I might not be back to one hundred percent, but I knew the only way to get there was to see you again, so here I am.”

Lucas blinked in surprise He’d never even considered… he felt like an idiot. “You have no right to be mad at me for not telling you things, then.” He’d forgotten that he got a bit too defensive when confronted with his own faults.

Instead of rising to Lucas’ defensiveness, Eliott crumbled. “I know. It wasn’t because I didn’t trust you, its just I— I’m a bad person, a bad boyfriend, I know that, but I never wanted you to.”

“Eliott you’re neither of those things.”

“Neither are you.”

“Eliott.”

“Lucas.”

They looked at each other earnestly, honestly, seeing more than what was on the surface for the first time in far too long. It was easy to get swept away by love and longing when they were only together for a short amount of time, easy to put aside the hurt and the pain and let themselves feel loved, but in reality they were two lost boys still trying to find a way to live in a world that was determined to break them down to nothing.

“I know things have to change,” Lucas said, because now that Eliott was there, he did. He couldn’t stand the broken look in Eliott’s eyes when he’d realized Lucas was back to who he’d been a year and a half ago. He continued, “But I can’t count on you, on us, to make that change.”

Eliott furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I need to learn how to come back from this on my own.”

Eliott’s face hardened. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t know.” He truly didn’t know. The last thing he ever wanted to do not be with Eliott, but it wasn’t like they were really together at the present time anyway, and clearly he couldn’t cope properly with that. “I think maybe I have to stop being so dependent on you to make everything better.”

“Lucas—” Eliot sounded confused, and Lucas couldn’t blame him. “You’re anything but dependent on me. Sometimes I wish you needed me a bit more, because being there for you is one of my favorite things.”

“I am too dependent, though, because I can’t function properly without you around. Maybe it has nothing to do with you at all, but I need to figure that all out on my own. I learned to love myself a little more with you, but I need to learn to love myself without you, do you understand? I hate myself so much, all the time, but you put those rose colored glasses on my eyes that make me not see it for a little while. It’s not a bad thing, it’s a great thing, actually, but you’re in Australia, and I’m in London, for who knows how long, and I don’t want to always have to count on other people to bring me back to a healthy state of mind, I want to be able to do it myself, or at least realize when things are getting bad and feel comfortable reaching out.” He was spewing words without thinking about them, but he realized they were all true.

Eliott bit his lip. “So where do I— where do we fit into all of this, then?”

It hurt Lucas more than anything, and he regretted the words before they even left his mouth, but he knew it was the right thing to say. “I don’t think we do, at least not right now.”

“But Lucas…” Eliott’s face crumbled and Lucas felt pain twist in his chest like never before. “You’re my forever.”

“You’re mine too,” Lucas said, urgency in his voice. He meant it, he really did. He’d never love anyone like Eliott, and he didn’t want to. “We might just have to put a pause on forever until I figure out who I am on my own.”

Eliott dropped Lucas’ hands, and the loss was felt by both of them instantly. Lucas stammered over his words, feeling sobs bubble in his chest again. “I- I don’t expect you to wait for me. You have so much love to give, and I don’t want you wasting it on me. You’re free to find a new forever, if you want.”

“I could never,” Eliott said, shaking his head. His voice was thick, but he looked more certain than ever. “You’re my forever, Lucas, I can wait as long as you need me to. I want to.”

It went against every bit of his better judgement, but he couldn’t help himself, he pulled Eliott into him and their lips met in a searing, sorrowful kiss. It tasted like tears on both ends but neither of them cared much. Lucas knew he was making the right decision, but it hurt so badly and he just wanted to ease the pain, if only for a moment. He could tell Eliott felt the same, so when Eliott lifted Lucas’ shirt, he gave in willingly, undoing Eliott’s jeans and finishing what they’d put on hold. He hoped dearly it wasn’t the last time, that it was just a goodbye for now, but if it was the end, at least they went out with a bang.

2 YEARS LATER

Paris looked as beautiful as it always did, but Lucas was seeing it with new eyes. The last six months had been a lot, mentally and emotionally, but as he looked out at the city he knew so well, he knew that it had all been worth it. Sure, presently he was only seeing it through a few windows, but after a few more papers, a few more signatures, and he’d be back to the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and he finally felt ready to tackle it.

He’d been more of a mess than usual after Eliott’s impromptu visit from Australia, even though their decision to pause things between them had been Lucas’ idea. Fortunately for him, Manon had enough and forced him to make changes for real. He started going back to therapy, but it wasn’t enough, and he made the painful decision to put his career on hold to get his life back on track and checked himself into a facility in Paris that specialized in eating disorder recovery. Paris had been the only option for him, really, because no matter how much he loved London, his heart was in the city he’d called home for eighteen years.

It had been hell at first, and he’d regretted every choice he’d made since Eliott’s visit, maybe even before then, but as the days turned into weeks and then into months, he knew that he’d made the right decision. He kept up with his ballet, giving himself private lessons in his room during free time because fucked up or not, he was still planning on dancing as long as humanly possible. He’d kept in touch with all of his friends, but particularly Manon, Yann, and Arthur, and that had really pulled him through a lot of hard times. He hadn’t spoken to Eliott since he’d left Lucas’ flat in London for the last time, and though he ached to, a part of him was fearful that Eliott had forgotten him, left him like people in his life always tended to do.

He wasn’t allowed his own phone while in treatment, so he couldn’t even check Eliott’s social media to see what he was up to in Australia, if he was doing ok or not, so he tried his best not to think about it. Of course, Eliott had been one of the many things he’d talked about in therapy sessions, but all of it had only made him realize that Eliott truly was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

It hadn’t ever been a doubt, not really, but Lucas felt comfortable enough in where he was and who he was that he knew he wouldn’t place all his value into solely his relationship or ballet ever again. He was a pretty great person, it turned out, it had just taken him nineteen years to realize it.

He was handed his phone back, and he turned it on for the first time in months, bombarded by a barrage of notifications. He deleted most of them, knowing they’d been sent before the senders had known where he was and that he didn’t have use of his phone. Thankfully, he had no messages from his father. He hadn’t been expecting it, he hadn’t heard from him since before his last year at school, when he’d caused him to have a breakdown in front of Manon, leading to Lucas’ summer in the colloc, but there was still that fear that one day he might try to reenter Lucas’ life and make it hell.

There were messages from Eliott, a lot of them, as well as some missed calls and voicemails, but Lucas couldn’t bring himself to look at any of them. He knew that he should have told Eliott where he was going, but he hadn’t been able to bring himself to. He knew Eliott would support him in something drastic as this, but he also hadn’t wanted that pity, that worry that had prompted all this in the first place.

“Lucas?” the receptionist said, and he realized she’d been trying to get his attention.

He blinked and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, um, yes?”

“You’re free to go,” she said with a warm smile that he couldn’t help but return. He hadn’t felt this kind of happiness since the show, his final year of school, and this happiness had nothing to do with anyone other than himself, which made it better than anything he’d ever experienced. He was sure there would be more moments throughout his life to top this one, and that this one might pale in comparison to other memories over time, but this feeling, this moment, was all his own.

It was all his own, but in realizing that he realized that it didn’t have to be all his own, that he wanted to share it, because he knew that it wouldn’t diminish the joy he felt on his own. He wanted to share it with Eliott, but he couldn’t because Eliott was in Australia, and Eliott probably thought Lucas didn’t love him anymore.

Well, he’d share it with Imane, then. Since she was still in Paris, he’d called her the week before to see if he could stay with her until he found his footing wherever he was off to next, and she’d readily agreed, only hesitation being that she was living with Idriss currently, and Idriss still spoke to Eliott frequently. It wouldn’t be a problem, he’d assured her, because he did plan on reaching out to Eliott again, hopefully pressing play and picking up where they left off. That was, if he wasn’t too much of a coward to do so.

He pushed open the doors and breathed in the fresh, winter air. It was nearly Christmas, and there was a very thin layer of snow dusting the pavement, something that didn’t happen very often, and Lucas felt like it was there just for him. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back to the sky, smiling despite everything that he still needed to do to get himself fully back on track. In this one minute, he didn’t have a care in the world.

He opened his eyes, gazing up at the sky for a minute and all the stars dotting it, seeing his breath in the air as he exhaled before he dropped his eyes back to what was in front of him and stepping back into the real world.

Just as he took the first step, his eyes caught on someone at the end of the sidewalk, leaning against a streetlight like they were exactly where they were meant to be. It couldn’t be— he had no way of knowing where Lucas was and when he was getting out… Lucas took a few hesitant steps, breath catching in his throat as he took in the sight of Eliott Demaury, grinning ear to ear like his Christmas wishes had just come true in front of his eyes.

Seeing Eliott there, smiling like he was, Lucas couldn’t stop his own smile from overtaking his face, walking quicker and quicker to the man of his dreams. “Eliott, how did you— what are you—”

He didn’t have a chance to finish, because Eliott met him in a few long strides, cupping his face with both hands and kissing him so hard he saw stars. He kissed Eliott back, wondering briefly if he was dreaming.

“Lucas, I love you so much,” was the first thing Eliott said when they broke apart, foreheads resting together like they did so often. They swayed there together for a minute, neither one of them speaking, dancing to the music of their souls finding their way back to one another.

“I love you too, Eliott, I love you too.” Lucas was crying, but these were tears of pure joy, pure love, and they both could see it. “You look great,” he said, because Eliott did, there wasn’t a day that he didn’t.

“You look better,” Eliott countered, and Lucas laughed, a loud joyous sound.

“I am,” he agreed, “Better, that is. I’m sorry for everything, for not telling you where I was going, for not calling, for suggesting we pause in the first place—”

“Hey,” Eliott cut him off, running his thumbs up and down Lucas’ cheekbones. “You have nothing to apologize for. Look at me, look how happy I am. It’s all because of you, because I get to see you, hold you, love you, and wait for you, even if I wasn’t entirely sure you wanted me to.”

He was happy, Lucas could see it, there wasn’t a hint of worry in his face, even though there was plenty of reason for there to be. It made Lucas feel a little lighter, smile a little brighter. Fuck him, even his thoughts were coming out in stupid rhymes now.

“Thank you for waiting,” Lucas said genuinely, because if he couldn’t apologize he could at least show his gratitude.

“It was my pleasure,” Eliott said, “Now come on, let’s go home.”

He stuck a hand out for Lucas to take, and Lucas obliged with a beaming smile. “Home?” he asked, but Eliott just raised an eyebrow, planting a kiss on his forehead.

——

Home, it seemed, was the house of Harold and Caroline Demaury, a place Lucas hadn’t visited since Eliott was diagnosed two years ago. The year before when they’d visited Paris, he and Eliott had stayed with Imane and Idriss, visiting with his parents for dinner but nothing beyond that. He texted Imane about his change of plans and she told him that she already knew, but her flat was open to him anytime in case he had a change of heart. This partially answered some of Lucas’ questions about how Eliott had known where he was and why he was there, but there were still more answers he’d need before the night was up.

Harold and Caroline welcomed him like their own son, and Lucas wondered what Eliott had told them about why Lucas was in Paris, or if he’d told them anything at all. It wasn’t very late, but Lucas was a bit exhausted so he didn’t engage much in conversation. Eliott picked up on this, eyes softening with understanding as he placed his hand on Lucas’ leg.

“Mom, Dad, is it ok if we call it quits for the night?” he asked, smiling earnestly.

“Oh, of course. You two must be tired. Let me know if you need anything at all,” she said, warmth evident in her voice. Lucas and Eliott stood to leave the room, and she spoke up again. “And Lucas? I’m glad to have you back here, and know that you’re welcome anytime.”

He smiled, feeling Eliott’s hand slip into his. “Thank you, Caroline. It means a lot.”

They walked the short distance to Eliott’s bedroom in silence, hand in hand. Lucas didn’t know what he should be feeling at the moment, but he mostly just felt happy. Maybe that was wrong, maybe he should have waited before jumping back into the life he’d put on pause, but it felt right being there with Eliott and his parents.

Lucas tried to speak, but Eliott cut him off by throwing a hoodie his way, raising his eyebrows as he changed out of his own clothes into more comfortable ones. Most of Lucas’ things were still in London, actually, he hoped Manon and Daphné hadn’t gotten rid of them or gotten a roommate to take his place just yet. They’d assured him he needn’t worry about the rent while he was away, but he was a bit worried regardless.

Eliott was wearing a simple pair of sweatpants and a red t shirt Lucas recognized as one of his, but he didn’t say anything because he wasn’t even sure if that fact had registered with Eliott. They both crawled into bed, Lucas in Eliott’s hoodie and his underwear, but they had no intention of sleeping just yet. They needed to talk, and most of their best talks happened in hushed whispers, faces nearly pressed together sharing the same pillow.

“How did you know where I was? And when I was leaving?” Lucas asked before Eliott had a chance to say anything.

“I still talk to people from school too, you know,” Eliott said, then, “Imane told me, she thought I’d want to know, please don’t be mad at her.”

Lucas shook his head. “I’m not mad at her.” He didn’t say anything else, trying to figure out what to say. That question had been answered, but did he even have any more? Should he apologize for leaving Eliott in the dark for so long?

“Was this presumptuous of me?” Eliott asked, voice strained.

Lucas furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?”

“Was it presumptuous of me to be there, to think you wanted me to be there?” Eliott’s voice was small, like he was scared of the answer.

Lucas looked at him a little more closely mapping out the face of the only person he’d ever loved, at least in such an eternal way. Before he could answer, Eliott continued, “I just wanted you to know that of all the people that have left in your life, I’ll never be one of them. I know that ‘for better or for worse’ is a marriage vow, but I’m in it with you one hundred percent, for better or for worse. Even if the worse requires a little time apart to figure things out, know that I’ll always be rooting for you, and that I’ll wait for you no matter how long we’re apart.”

Lucas placed his hand on the side of Eliott’s face, and Eliott melted into the touch, closing his eyes instinctively. “It wasn’t presumptuous of you.”

Eliott’s hand rested on top of his on Eliott’s cheek and all Lucas felt was warmth. “I thought about it a lot, what I would do and say when I saw you again, because I’ve fucked up so many times by now that I figured I’d owe you a million apologies if you even wanted to see me at all. But then, when I saw you there, I realized that all I wanted was you and that I wasn’t going to stand in my own way anymore. I know who I am without you now, and I’m comfortable with that person, but I don’t think that it’s a bad thing to love myself a little bit more when I’m with you, because it only shows how much love I’m capable of giving. I’m in a better place than I’ve ever been, and I can’t thank you enough for allowing me the time to figure out a lot of the shit that’s been circulating in my head longer than I can remember. I’ve had time to heal on my own, but I’m ready for the beginning of the rest of my life, a life with you by my side. If you still want to be there, that is.”

Eliott opened his eyes. “Of course I do. Of course I want to be there. I love you exponentially, remember?”

“I love you exponentially,” Lucas repeated in a whisper, allowing himself a smile at the memories of laying exactly like this but under entirely different circumstances. He looked at their hands, then into Eliott’s eyes. “I do too, I love you exponentially. Even when I was figuring things out, that stayed the same, me loving you more and more every day.”

“Can I kiss you?” Eliott asked, and Lucas nodded.

“Yes.”

A soft, gentle press of the lips was all it was, nothing like the whirlwind kiss they’d swept each other up in earlier, but it was the perfect kiss in the perfect moment. Maybe the universe was on their side, after all, if it had all led to where they were in that specific instance.

“What are you going to do about ballet?” Eliott asked, and Lucas was glad he hadn’t avoided the topic. It was Lucas’ second love, after all.

“I can’t go back to the Royal Ballet, even though I really did enjoy it there,” Lucas confessed with a sigh. Truthfully, he didn’t want to. He felt he’d worn out his time in London, but was grateful for it nonetheless.

Eliott trailed one hand up and down his spine idly, an action that Lucas found to be quite comforting. “There’s a new director at the Paris Opera Ballet, you know.”

Lucas didn’t know. “What?”

Eliott nodded. “There have been a lot of changes, actually, according to Imane. Most of them for the better.”

“Oh?” Lucas really didn’t want to get any of his hopes up, but he wanted to return home more than anything. It was a bit ironic, that he loved this city so much considering all he’d been through in it, but it also contained most of his happiest memories and greatest moments of healing.

“I think I’m going to audition,” Eliott said, “That’s part of why I came back here, other than for you.”

Lucas blinked at him. “Really? What about Australia?”

“Australia’s fine. But it’s not Paris, and you’re not there.”

“Don’t make your decisions around me—”

Eliott huffed out a small laugh. “All due respect, Lucas, but don’t even start with me. It’s been a year and a half since we left, and all I’ve thought about is how much I want to come home, yes, to you, but also to Paris, my friends, my family. I had Sofiane but it wasn’t enough. This is where I’m meant to be, I know it now.”

“I think this is where I’m meant to be too,” Lucas admitted, “I think I’ve always known, in my heart.”

Eliott swallowed, and Lucas watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “I was also thinking… I don’t really want to live with my parents if I come back here.”

“Understandable,” Lucas agreed with a small laugh, and Eliott’s traced the lines it left on his face.

“I was wondering if you’d want to get a flat with me, if you’re sure you’d like to be here in Paris?” Eliott asked, and Lucas’ smile faltered.

“Are you serious?”

Eliott nodded, then backtracked, “Unless you think it’s too soon, or you need more time, or—”

“Hey,” Lucas cut Eliott off, lacing his fingers through his hair. He pulled Eliott’s face closer to his, kissing him gently. “I’d love to get a flat with you.”

Eliott’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Really,” Lucas promised with a smile. “We make quite the roommate duo, if I remember correctly.”

Eliott laughed, a sound that Lucas wanted to capture in a jar and keep with him forever. “That we do.”

Somewhere in the distance, church bells rang, and winter wind whistled by, and Lucas and Eliott found home in one another again, not for the first time, but for the last, because this time would lead to forever.

3 YEARS LATER

It was so strange, being in the same place he’d grown up, performing the same pieces he’d practiced a million times, but in a completely different way. Eliott had waited until his two year contract with the Australian Ballet was up, auditioning for the Paris Opera Ballet with Lucas in the meantime, and now the both of them were exactly where they were meant to be. Imane was still at the company, but she was the only one of their good friends still there. Emma had quit ballet while Lucas was in treatment, something he hadn’t found out about until he’d auditioned, but she seemed happy, so that was all that mattered. Lucas was still trying to convince Yann and Arthur to come back from Berlin and Amsterdam, respectively, but Yann loved Berlin and Arthur had his Lucas, so his pleas fell on deaf ears.

Sofiane stayed in Australia for another year, but Imane had told them that she suspected he’d be coming back to Paris soon as well. Lucas suspected it had something to do with her, but she refused to entertain any of his questions on the subject.

Eliott and Lucas’ flat was tiny, there was barely enough room for the both of them, but Lucas loved it with all his heart. Eliott had gotten him a piano for his twentieth birthday, and Lucas had gotten Eliott a record player, complete with a set of dubstep tracks on vinyl that Eliott loved for god knew what reason. He’d regretted that purchase a little bit, but the look on Eliott’s face when he’d given them to him sat in his memories and made his bleeding eardrums worth it.

Lucas and Eliott had also attended a few cooking classes in their free time, partially as a way to normalize healthy eating habits, and partially because if Lucas had to eat one more blueberry-bacon muffin he was going to throw Eliott’s dubstep records out the window. It was easier with Eliott, of course, but Lucas still worked on himself often, even going back to Angelique for weekly therapy sessions. She’d been pleasantly surprised to hear that he was back in town, and he’d been pleasantly surprised that she was willing to work with him again.

Eliott was still going to therapy too, but Lucas sensed something a little different about his behavior recently, and he wondered if there was anything he should have been doing to make sure everything was going ok for him mentally.

It was four in the morning and the two of them had to be up early for rehearsals in the morning, but when Lucas blinked his eyes open blearily and saw that Eliott wasn’t in bed beside him, he realized Eliott must never have gone to bed.

He got out of bed, trying to adjust his eyes to the dim light as he made his way into the living room to see why Eliott was still up. The brightness hit his eyes harder than he’d expected and he braced himself against the wall, squinting.

“Eliott?” His voice was groggy with sleep but Eliott looked up at him from where he was seated in the middle of the floor, surrounded by papers. Some were drawings, some looked like sheet music, and some looked like notes written by an unsteady hand. It gave Lucas flashbacks to three years ago.

“Eliott, come to bed,” he tried, knowing it was useless when he saw the light in Eliott’s eyes.

“Sleep?” Eliott laughed, “Come on, Lucas, I’m on a roll!”

Lucas nodded in agreement, knowing that the best he could do was offer quiet support until the euphoria gave way to the darkness lurking beneath. “I can see that. Do you want to tell me about it?”

Eliott’s eyes lit up again, and Lucas sat down beside him, hanging onto his every word. Well, at least until tiredness overtook him again. He wasn’t even aware of falling asleep, and felt kind of bad about it, but when he woke up a few hours later, Eliott was holding him from behind, likely having carried him to bed. He could tell Eliott wasn’t asleep by the pattern of his breathing, but at least his body was resting.

Lucas didn’t mention their middle of the night conversation but he did remind Eliott to take his medication, taking his own at the same time. Eliott peppered him with kisses all throughout the morning, something Lucas would never complain about, and when they went to practice, Lucas was just grateful that he would be able to help Eliott through whatever this was, if it was a manic episode, a hypomanic one, a mixed one, whichever. Eliott hadn’t had a manic episode since the one that had led to his diagnosis, so this was still new territory for both of them, but Lucas knew they could both handle it, for better or for worse.

——

The depression hit a few days later, so fast that Lucas hadn’t been expecting it, even if he was. It wasn’t the deepest hole Eliott had ever fallen into, but it wasn’t the shallowest, so Lucas did everything he could to help ease even the smallest fraction of pain Eliott was going through.

A few days into the depressive episode, Lucas made Eliott breakfast in bed, even though he wasn’t sure if Eliott would eat it, because he knew that it was always something that Eliott did to cheer him up and make him feel special. They didn’t have rehearsals for a few days because the new director was out of town, so there were no obligations for either one of them.

Even after being away for two years, they still had quite the reputation at the Paris Opera Ballet, mostly amongst the dancers. Their friends, old and new, knew what was going on and offered support in any way they could, but there were still whispers around the company of them being lazy or crazy or undeserving of what they had. Lucas knew how to handle it, he’d been dealing with similar shit practically his whole life, but it hit Eliott harder than Lucas had expected it to. Eliott had always been the star, even when the director was being an asshole, everyone had been on his side, because the director was so clearly in the wrong. But now, facing a group mostly made up of people they didn’t know very well, every negative or ignorant comment hit Eliott with twice the impact, and Lucas could only do his best to try to pick up the pieces.

It didn’t help anything that Lucille, Eliott’s ex-girlfriend was a soloist in the company and everyone fawned over her like she was the next Svetlana Zakharova. Eliott had told him plenty about Lucille, and all of it left a bad taste in his mouth. Clearly, Lucille wasn’t very fond of Lucas either, but he wasn’t in the mood to try to change her mind. She probably felt that she was still owed Eliott’s love, even after years apart, simply because she felt entitled to the best of everything.

Lucas was about to be on his way into the bedroom with his tray of breakfast for Eliott when two arms wrapped around his middle, head resting on his shoulder. He set the tray down and turned around, smiling softly as he looked Eliott in the eyes. They weren’t as bright as they usually were, but the dull haze that had coated them for the past few days wasn’t there anymore, and Lucas was happy to see the colors he loved a bit more vibrantly. Eliott’s eyes were still his favorite color, that would probably never change.

“I was just about to bring you breakfast,” Lucas said, nodding his head to the tray. He watched Eliott look down at it, surprise evident on his face.

“You made me breakfast in bed?” he asked softly.

Lucas nodded, wrapping his arms around Eliott’s neck. “Of course. It always makes me feel better when I’m down, so…” he trailed off, seeing an unreadable emotion in Eliott’s expression. “Was it stupid, to do that?”

Eliott’s brows furrowed instantly, head snapping back to meet Lucas’ gaze. “What? No, of course not. It’s just… I’ve been so awful to you these past few days, you don’t need to do anything like this for me.”

“Eliott,” Lucas sighed, “You have not been awful to me at all. Need I remind you that I was intentionally awful to you for like five years back in school?”

“That was different—”

“It was and it wasn’t. You’re allowed bad days, Eliott, and I’m not going to try to fix them for you, because I know that’s not what you want or need. Maybe you’ll yell at me or ignore me, but I’ll always be there to make you breakfast in bed or cuddle with you at night, ok?”

Eliott ran his hands up and down Lucas’ back. “Ok.”

“Good,” Lucas beamed, wiggling out of Eliott’s grip. “Now go back to the bedroom, I have a surprise for you that may or may not be breakfast in bed.”

Eliott smiled, the first one Lucas had seen in days, lifting his hand up to salute Lucas. “Aye, aye captain.”

In hindsight, breakfast in bed probably would have worked much better if Lucas had remembered to grab silverware, but Eliott had tucked Lucas close once he entered the room and set the tray on the bed and hadn’t let him go. It didn’t matter, though, not really, because Eliott was smiling, and Lucas was eating, and they were going to be ok.

No, they were going to be more than ok, they were going to be great. Greatness wasn’t measured by the number of good days versus the bad, it wasn’t measured by anything, really, it was just a simple fact. They were going to be great again, no matter what the present had in store. At least, that was what Angelique had been trying to help him understand. She was also helping him to understand that the days that weren’t great were vital to his existence, because when everything was good, nothing was.

It was all a bit confusing at times, if Lucas was honest with himself, so he focused on the simple things when it all got to be too much. The sun beams twisting their way through Eliott’s hair in the morning, curtains parted just so. The curtains themselves, a bright, golden yellow, Lucas had picked out because they reminded him of Eliott. The way Eliott buttered Lucas’ toast for him, knowing exactly how he liked it, and the way he did it without thinking twice. Falling in love more and more every single minute wasn’t scary, not anymore, because it was Eliott, and scary wasn’t even a word in Lucas’ vocabulary around him.

“Thank you,” Eliott said, leaning his head on Lucas’ shoulder. “For the breakfast, and for everything.”

“You’re welcome,” Lucas said, because they both knew Eliott didn’t need to thank him, but Lucas was starting to allow people to thank him for things when they wanted to. “Thank you for being you.”

Because, flaws and all, Lucas was still the person Eliott loved more than anything, and Eliott was still the person Lucas loved more than anything. Maybe it was partially because of their brief stint as rivals, one sided as it might have been. Not caring how the other person saw you broke down every wall before they even got close enough to fall in love. They’d learned to love every ugly part of each other because those parts hadn’t really ever been hidden, because they hadn’t cared to hide them.

Lucas kissed Eliott’s forehead, loving when Eliott made himself small and tucked himself into Lucas like he could shield him from the world. He probably couldn’t, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

5 YEARS LATER

Eliott was leading Lucas by the hand, blindfolded, and Lucas couldn’t have been happier. They’d been on a date to celebrate their five year anniversary, going out to dinner at a fancy restaurant because they were technically adults now, that was what adults did, but Eliott had blindfolded Lucas immediately after and told Lucas to trust him, as if there was any other option.

They were both wearing suits, partly because they were celebrating an anniversary, and partly because they both had suits they never wore and didn’t want them or the money they’d spent to go to waste. Lucas had tried to keep his cool all night, but he’d been dying to take Eliott’s clothes off since the minute he’d seen him all dressed up. He didn’t honestly look that different than he did at seventeen, but he looked more Eliott, and in a suit he rendered Lucas completely incapable of coherent thought.

“Eliiii,” he whined, Eliott’s hands still on his shoulders, guiding him.

Eliott’s laugh was music to his ears, despite the fact he was still blindfolded and had no idea where they were going. “I always forget how whiny you are,” Eliott teased.

“I am not whiny!” Lucas gasped indignantly, dissolving into giggles when he heard Eliott laugh again behind him. After a few more minutes of walking, they came to a stop, so Lucas raised his hands to remove his blindfold, but Eliott swatted them away before he could do so.

“Dude!” Lucas laughed, and Eliott groaned.

“This is not the time for you to call me dude,” Eliott complained, and Lucas scoffed.

“I’ll call you dude whenever I want to, dude.”

He heard Eliott sigh, and he smiled triumphantly until he felt Eliott’s hands push him gently. “What the—”

He ripped off the blindfold as he stumbled backwards, landing in something wet. Once he cleared the water from his eyes he saw Eliott standing on the street in front of him, shit eating grin on his face. Lucas surveyed his surroundings, fully intending to be mad, but then he realized where they were.

“The fucking fountain,” he said, no mirth in his voice at all.

Eliott nodded. “The fucking fountain.”

“I can’t believe you’ve waited five years to push me into a fucking fountain,” Lucas said, shaking his head.

Eliott raised his eyebrows. “Not just any fountain!”

“Not just any fountain,” Lucas agreed, “Although, if memory serves, you should be in here with me.”

He vaguely wondered if the water was ruining his only good suit, but decided he didn’t really care. Maybe it was time to get a new one anyway. He held out a hand, and Eliott laughed. “You really think I’m going to fall for that?”

“I don’t think you have a choice, Demaury,” Lucas said, wiggling his fingers, and something shifted in Eliott’s expression. He grasped Lucas’ hand and Lucas pulled him into the fountain, Eliott sputtering indignantly even though he’d known it was coming.

Eliott stumbled into the fountain clumsily, falling on his ass, and Lucas burst into hysterics. It took him a minute to regain control over himself, and when he did Eliott was still sitting in the fountain, looking up at Lucas with a glimmer in his eyes.

“I’m not helping you up,” Lucas said, raising one eyebrow and crossing his arms. The corner of his mouth twitched, threatening to collapse him into another bout of laughter, but he remained steady as Eliott shifted from sitting to kneeling, one foot braced on the ground. Lucas sighed overdramatically, holding out a hand. “Ok, fine, I’ll help you up. But only because I love you.”

Eliott’s fingers ghosted over his briefly, not long enough for Lucas to grip them to pull him up, before they disappeared inside his suit jacket, like he was looking for something. He smiled as he found whatever it was, and Lucas became acutely aware of how they were positioned.

Eliott, on one knee before him, Lucas reaching out a hand, both of them in the fountain that had started it all.

His heart stopped beating. If he was wrong… but if he was right…

“Lucas, I’ve loved you since we were children, even if I didn’t know it back then,” Eliott said, and Lucas’ heart started beating again, threatening to burst out of his chest. It was loud inside the fountain, but Lucas almost didn’t hear it, the only thing on his mind the man in front of him. The man, the boy, the love of his life.

Eliott continued, “You’re the only one I want to see first thing in the morning, even on the bad days, and you’re the only person I can’t picture my life without. I know we’re still young and we’ve got our whole lives ahead of us, but I made you a promise five years ago, and I still mean every word. I promised that no matter where we were, you were it for me. You’re the one I love. We’ve been through more ups and downs than most people probably have to go through in their whole lives, but I wouldn’t trade a single second of it, not if it led us here. You have the most beautiful soul I’ve ever seen, and some days I still pinch myself to make sure that this is all real, that you actually chose me. But you did, and I chose you, continue to choose you, and that’s never going to change. And sure, marriage is kind of an arbitrary institution that our generation is moving past as a whole, and our love and commitment to one another speaks loud enough on its own, but Lucas Lallemant, will you marry me?”

Lucas froze with tears in his eyes, watching as the water from the fountain pelted down on Eliott’s head, soaking him more and more with each passing second. He didn’t notice the small crowd of people that had started to surround them in the fountain, whispering and videotaping them.

A million years passed in a single second when their eyes met, each of them staring into the depths of their favorite color. The world restarted, and Lucas smiled, letting tears mingle with the water on his face.

“Yes.”

The grin that broke out on Eliott’s face was unlike anything Lucas had ever seen, so blinding he feared he shouldn’t look right at it. In the blink of an eye, he was on his feet, surging forward and capturing Lucas in a time bending kiss that made him feel like he was floating amongst the stars, happiest version of himself in any universe.

They broke apart laughing as the people that had become voyeurs to one of their greatest moments of personal joy applauded and cheered. Eliott slipped a simple ring onto Lucas finger, and Lucas made a note to himself to get one for Eliott as well.

“We should probably get out of the fountain now,” Lucas suggested, and Eliott shrugged.

“Probably,” he agreed.

The people that had gathered congratulated them as they clumsily hopped out of the stupid fountain that would probably be the site of their wedding if they weren’t careful. They were only twenty-two, but five years together felt like a lifetime, and Lucas had honestly been thinking a lot about marriage and what that might bring for them. They already acted like they were married anyway, why should they wait on making it official?

Lucas couldn’t stop looking at the simple band on his finger, surprised at how well it fit. He was soaked from head to toe, and the season was teetering on winter, but he wasn’t cold, not with all the warmth that had filled in his chest.

Eliott clasped his hand, smiling down at him like he’d done five years ago, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Lucas didn’t know if Eliott even remembered that was exactly what he’d done after their first kiss, but Lucas remembered, he’d always remember every second of that night, even the fight that had preceded it all, such a trivial thing that had led to something so monumental.

Everyone surrounding them had more or less dispersed, realizing Lucas and Eliott were done putting on a show, so they walked back to their flat peacefully, content with each other’s presence.

“You know, I’ve been thinking about something,” Eliott said as they walked, thumb rubbing Lucas’ ring.

Lucas laughed minutely, wondering what else there was to be thinking about. The only other major thing they’d done recently was renew their contracts with the Paris Opera Ballet, if that could even be considered major. “Thinking about what?” he asked.

Eliott swallowed, looking up at the moon. “Well, I—”

He broke off as Lucas’ phone started to ring. Lucas swore under his breath, he’d been certain he’d put his phone on silent. He glanced up apologetically at Eliott, who simply shook his head to indicate that there were no worries. Grabbing his phone from his pocket, he released Eliott’s hand when he saw the caller ID. Why was the director calling him? He hoped he hadn’t done anything wrong that he’d forgotten about.

The new director was great, though, so he wouldn’t have been worried about her calls if it hadn’t been the first time she’d ever called him. She liked to stay involved professionally, not personally, and most of the time he really appreciated that. Of course, there were some personal things he and Eliott had to share with her, but she never looked at either of them any different knowing what she knew.

“Hello?” he answered, not meaning to phrase it as a question but still completely in the dark as to the reason for the call. When she started to speak, it wasn’t that Lucas wasn’t listening, he heard every word she said, but his head filled with a buzz, blocking out everything in the outside world. He was registering the words he was hearing, but he wasn’t sure he was responding, at least not coherently. It couldn’t be true, this couldn’t be happening.

His mind left his body, only coming back down when Eliott placed a hand on his cheek. He didn’t know how long he’d been standing there, phone frozen in front of him, wide eyed blank expression on his face.

“Lucas?” Eliott asked, concern written all over his face. “Is everything all right?”

Was everything all right? Was what the director had just said real?

“I…” he began, trying to find the words he was looking for. “She…”

“She?” Eliott prompted, still looking nervous.

“I’m a principal dancer in the company,” Lucas said, or maybe didn’t say. He wasn’t sure.

Judging by the way Eliott’s eyes got so wide they nearly took up his entire face, he had, in fact, spoken aloud. “You what?”

“The director,” Lucas said dazedly, “She called to tell me they’re making me a principal dancer in the company.”

If Lucas had thought Eliott’s smile before was blinding, that had nothing on this one. “Are you serious? Lu! What the fuck that’s incredible! At twenty-two years old! And you’ve only been a soloist, what, for a year?”

Lucas nodded, brain still fuzzy and uncomprehending. He and Eliott were both soloists, Eliott had entered the company as one. It didn’t seem possible… maybe they mixed up Eliott’s number with his? All the other principal dancers were older than him, not by much, admittedly, because ballet didn’t have many dancers aged into their late thirties and forties, but still.

“Is tonight real?” Lucas asked, because he’d also just gotten engaged. Somehow that seemed a million times easier to stomach than the other news he’d received.

“It is,” Eliott said softly, toning down his blinding smile as he realized that the pure disbelief that Lucas was feeling was too present for him to feel any form of happiness.

Lucas blinked up at Eliott, shaking his head. “Why wasn’t it you?”

Eliott furrowed his eyebrows. “Why wasn’t what me?”

“You should be the principal dancer… are you sure they didn’t call you? This is my phone right?” Lucas was spiraling a tiny bit, thank god for Eliott, being steady and grounded when his head started spinning.

“Lucas, they meant to call you, not me, because you deserve this. You’re the best dancer in the company by a mile.”

“But you’re better, you’ve always been better.”

Eliott shrugged. “Maybe I’m not what they’re looking for. Besides, I wouldn’t want to be a principal dancer anyway.”

Lucas gawked at him. Was the whole world flipped upside down, was this an episode of Stranger Things? “That’s always been your dream.”

“Maybe, like, top three dreams,” Eliott agreed.

“Eliott what are you talking about?” Lucas asked, feeling his brain enter his body again, bit by bit.

“That was what I was about to talk to you about, actually,” Eliott said sheepishly, “Though I’m not sure if now is the right time anymore.”

“Eliott. Tell me.”

Eliott sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Principal dancer has been my dream, but there are two others that outweigh it, and I already have one, and I think it’s time for me to start reaching for the other one seriously.”

Lucas blinked. “Ok?”

“The dream I have, it’s you,” Eliott said, and Lucas levelled him with a look, causing Eliott to laugh. “I’m serious! I can’t help it if you’re the Rapunzel to my Flynn Ryder—”

“I’m Flynn Ryder and you know it,” Lucas interrupted, earning a short laugh.

“—But my other dream, well, you know this one too, actually, is Polaris. I want to commit to Polaris full time, quit the company in the meantime.”

Now Lucas’ eyes turned into saucers. “You what?”

“I know I should have said something before now, but I wasn’t totally sure until now,” Eliott said quickly, words running together, “I’ll still be here, though, with you. It won’t be like Australia, in fact, I still want you to compose the music, but I understand if you don’t want to or don’t have the time…”

“Eliott,” Lucas laughed, “I’m not mad, how could I be mad?”

“You… aren’t?” Eliott clarified hopefully.

“No! Just surprised.” He paused, taking both of Eliott’s hands in his. “I’ll support you in whatever you want to do, you know that, right?”

Eliott nodded, gripping his hands tighter. “I do. I just didn’t want you to think it was because you’re a principal dancer now, or anything.”

“The thought never even crossed my mind,” Lucas answered truthfully. They were long past the jealousy and rivalry. If Eliott had made principal dancer, Lucas would have been equally happy for him.

Principal dancer. Now that he was back on earth, it was sinking in more and more. He wasn’t the first of their friends to be a principal dancer, but did Manon really count? She hadn’t ever even been in the corps, soloist straight out of school. Her and Daphné were still thriving at the Royal Ballet, and Noora and her girlfriend had ended up moving in with them to take Lucas’ place. He was pretty sure they were getting their own place soon, but was glad that they’d kept the gay alive in his absence. He missed Manon a lot, and he couldn’t wait to rub it in her face that she may have been principal dancer before him, but he was engaged before her.

“I’m a principal dancer in the Paris Opera Ballet,” Lucas said aloud, finally believing it.

Eliott smiled. “You are.”

“I’m engaged to the man of my dreams,” he said. What a day it had been.

Eliott pulled him close. He realized they were both still soaking wet, and laughed. “You are,” Eliott said again, bringing them closer still.

“I love you, Eliott,” Lucas said, observing the stars reflecting in Eliott’s luminescent eyes. “I didn’t say it before, but I should have. Even though you know it, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“And I love you.”

If he wasn’t mistaken, Lucas might have seen a shooting star soaring behind Eliott’s head. He didn’t make a wish though, because he realized he didn’t need to. He had everything that he’d ever wanted.

And this was only the beginning.

10 YEARS LATER

Lucas was standing backstage, like he had so many times before, but this was the first time he’d been truly nervous. It was the opening night of Polaris, a ballet Eliott had choreographed and staged, and he had composed music for. Five years ago he never would have expected this to come to fruition so quickly, but there they were. Five years ago, he wouldn’t have expected a lot of things, but life had many surprises.

It was absolutely insane to think that in such a short time he’d become one of the most sought after dancers in the world, and he still didn’t believe it to be true, but there had been some definite successes since he’d become one of the youngest principal dancers in the company. He had no intention of leaving Paris anytime soon, but he had done a few performances at different places around the world in the meantime, stunned that people would travel any distance to see him dance.

Professionally, he was still Lucas Lallemant, a decision he’d struggled with a bit since marrying Eliott, but he’d decided to stop allowing his father’s influence to control his life and what he did with it, showing the world that Lallemant wasn’t a dirty name, even if they’d never known that it was. Everywhere else, though, he was Lucas Lallemant-Demaury. Ten years ago he’d told Eliott he wanted to be a Demaury, and he hadn’t changed his mind, but it was important for him to take ownership of who he was because at the end of the day, a name was just a name. He wouldn’t let a name scare him anymore.

Eliott had risen to great prominence as a choreographer, staging pieces around the world that brought audiences to tears and filled them with joy. Polaris was his first full ballet, and everyone close to him knew that this was the only one that had ever really mattered, no matter the time and care he put into others. If his other pieces had been so impactful, the world clearly wasn’t ready for Polaris. It was the first ballet in history to star two male leads in a romantic story, which was groundbreaking enough as it was, especially to be put on for the first time in such a company of prestige.

They were more successful than either of them had ever expected to be, especially at the young age of twenty-seven, and for the most part they still didn’t know what to do with that success. They’d both been very outspoken about mental health and LGBTQ+ rights, which seemed like a good place to start, and they’d gotten a dog, a little Pomeranian named Ouba, who they loved only second to each other. They’d discussed kids, but Lucas knew that he had no intentions of leaving the stage anytime soon, and Eliott hadn’t too many dreams and plans he wanted to pursue to consider raising a child. They reserved the right to change their minds in the future, but in the present moment they were happy with it just being the two of them and Ouba taking on the world one minute at a time.

The world rejoiced when Eliott had announced he was coming back to the stage to perform opposite Lucas in the lead roles, though Lucas had known that was his plan from the beginning. Working so closely with Eliott was something he’d missed, and Eliott had missed too. He’d composed all the music with a little help from people in the industry trained for this sort of thing, including Eliott’s friend from Australia, Niccolo, and practicing to the music he’d heard in his head for ten years was a visceral experience. He couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to perform on stage in a little under an hour. Then again and again for as long as the show would run.

All of their old friends from school were in the audience for the performance, which filled Lucas’ heart with joy. Well, they were supposed to be in the audience, but Eliott had invited them all backstage for a little pre-show reunion, despite the fact that the cast should have been focused.

Imane and Sofiane were in the show as well, as they were both dancing with the Paris Opera Ballet, and they both had prominent roles because Eliott would accept nothing less for them. Plus, they were still two of the best dancer Lucas knew, and they deserved every bit accolade they had or would receive in their lives. They’d gotten married a year after Lucas and Eliott had, and Lucas knew that they’d been discussing some of the things Eliott and Lucas discussed recently. Imane loved ballet, and Sofiane loved Imane, so Lucas didn’t expect any Alaoui kids in the near future, but he did think there would be some eventually, and expected to be referred to as Uncle Lucas when they did come into the world.

Yann wasn’t dancing anymore, which had come as a bit of a shock to Lucas when Yann had visited and told them he was going to ‘retire’ from the dance world two or so years back. He’d met a girl in Berlin, Emmeline, but they’d moved back to Paris fairly recently and things seemed to be going quite well with them. He tried not to tease Yann too much about the fact that he’d dated an Emma, and now an Emmeline. Lucas knew that Yann was planning to propose to her any day now, but if he knew anything about Emmeline, it was that she’d probably get around to popping the question before Yann could even get down on one knee. He liked her a lot.

Arthur wasn’t dancing anymore either, at least not in a company. He’d taken his abuser to court while dancing in Amsterdam and the settlement payout had been much more money than Arthur had ever been expecting, so he’d put it towards starting his own ballet school in Amsterdam. Lucas had been a bit sad to hear he wouldn’t be coming back to Paris, that his life was elsewhere now, but he and VDH were still together, and he seemed happier than he ever had been, so Lucas was happy as a result. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t still tease Arthur for having a crush on him ten years ago, especially not when Arthur asked him to come teach master classes for his students. Definitely not.

Basile was living large, doing whatever it was that Basile did best. Last Lucas had spoken to him he’d been applying to schools to go back and get his doctorate in French, because he wanted to be a professor. Lucas had been surprised at first, but then he’d realized that he’d never actually known what it was that Basile wanted to do with his life, so he accepted it with no more than a shrug. He wasn’t dating anyone presently, but Yann and Lucas had secretly been planning to set him up with a girl named Leia, who’d danced with them at school and they’d recently gotten back in touch with because she was friends with Emmeline.

Alexia had become quite the fixture in their lives, surprisingly, because she’d helped Eliott a lot with blocking and planning Polaris. She may have quit ballet a long time ago, but Lucas could tell she was still very passionate about dance, and he thought she might have a future in choreography if she wanted it. She was also their designated dogsitter, which had somehow led to her reconnecting with Chloé, who Yann had briefly dated— and Lucas had too, but that didn’t really count— and apparently now they were planning on moving in together. Oh, how small the world was.

Emma, surprising all of them, had married Alex briefly, then got divorced, then married him again. Lucas was pretty sure it would last this time, knew that it only hadn’t lasted the first time because both of them wanted to experience a little bit more of the world before settling down, soon realizing that their hearts kept finding their way back to each other and would keep doing so. They had a kid together, a little spitfire named Amelie, and she and Lucas got along a little bit too well for their own good. Emma and Lucas had always had a friendship teetering on chaos, so it was inevitable that the same would be said for her daughter.

Manon and Daphné, of course, were still together. Lucas still held it over their head that he and Eliott got married three months before they did, but everyone knew that it was in good humor. In fact, they were expecting their first child together, something Lucas definitely hadn’t seen coming. He’d also assumed they would adopt, but Daphné had wanted to have a biological child and Manon had agreed. They’d had an anonymous donor, and Lucas had feigned offense that they hadn’t wanted his dna. Manon was terrified of having children, at least physically, but apparently Daphné had really wanted to be the one to carry their baby, so it had all worked out for them. Lucas didn’t know whether or not she planned on returning to ballet after the baby was born, but he supposed Daphné and Manon would figure that out amongst themselves. Manon was probably more famous in the ballet world than he or Eliott could even dream of, which was unsurprising to everyone but Manon.

They were all there, looking the same and yet so completely different than they had ten years ago. It was terrifying to think ten years had passed, because in some respects Lucas had no idea where the time had gone, but in some ways it also felt like three whole lifetimes had been lived in the last ten years. He was still doing well, had only had a minor relapse of his eating disorder during his first year as a principal dancer, but Eliott had been there through it all and he’d made his way out of it stronger than ever. Eliott had a few episodes, having to change his medication after the most recent one, but he’d been good for a long while too, and the depression hadn’t hit as hard in both of his most recent episodes. He attributed it to Lucas, though Lucas would never agree, knowing that it was just brain chemicals doing whatever the hell they wanted to at any given time, but it made him happy to make Eliott happy in whatever way he could.

Manon looked regal and sharp, every bit the prima ballerina she’d shaped up to be, red lipstick perfectly applied like it always had been as she ran over to Lucas to hug him. Daphné was right behind her, albeit a bit slower given her current condition, but she looked just as beautiful as Manon but in a softer way.

“When are you due?” Eliott asked her excitedly as the two of them hugged, and Daphné beamed, lacing her hand with Manon’s.

“Eight weeks,” she said, catching Manon’s eye. The way the two of them looked at each other… if Lucas didn’t have Eliott to look at like that, he probably would have pretended to barf all over the both of them.

Arthur and VDH approached next, who Lucas refused to refer to as anything other than VDH, which Arthur rolled his eyes at every time but VDH himself had said he didn’t mind at all. Isa and some of her friends had joined, standing a bit on the outskirts of the group because Isa was the only one who knew Lucas well. He recognized Liv and her girlfriend Engel, because Arthur had lived with Liv and Isa had talked about the two of them all the time, so he assumed the other three girls must have been Janna, who danced in Sweden, Imaan, who wasn’t a dancer, and Esra, who was a well known name in the dance community for being the first hijabi muslim principal dancer in the American Ballet Theatre. Lucas was a bit intimidated to be in her presence, actually, because he’d followed her career and admired her so much, but she seemed very down to earth from what he’d heard through Isa.

“You’re going to kill it,” Arthur said pulling him into a hug. He was wearing the same glasses he’d worn back during school, but they still suited him. “And if you don’t, I’ll let you join my tiny tots ballet class, see if you can learn something from them.”

“Ha ha,” Lucas deadpanned, smirking despite himself. “Tiny tots, huh?”

Arthur widened his eyes in a don’t ask sort of way. “Past me was an ambitious man,” he lamented.

VDH nudged his shoulder. “Shut up, the kids love you. And you love them, no matter what you say on the contrary.”

“I just picture them all as baby Yoda,” Arthur admitted, earning him another nudge.

“Dude, the baby Yoda meme died, like, ten years ago,” Lucas laughed.

Arthur scoffed in offense, putting a hand up to his chest. “Baby Yoda is eternal.”

Yann entered their conversation at that moment, raising his eyebrows when he noticed all of them bursting into uncontrollable laughter. “Three Musketeers back and better than ever, huh?”

“It’s been way too fucking long, man,” Arthur said once he caught his breath, wiping his eyes for errant tears. Lucas nodded in agreement, just as Baz joined the circle.

“I sure hope you didn’t forget about me,” he pouted, and the three of them pulled him into a bearhug, Eliott engaged in conversation with Idriss, Imane, and Sofiane, and VDH moving back to talk with his friends.

“As if we ever could,” Lucas said to Basile, ruffling his curly hair.

“I sure hope not! Just because I don’t have a hot boyfriend, doesn’t mean I’m not still a part of the group, right?” Basile scoffed indignantly.

Yann cocked his head to the side. “Pretty sure I don’t have a hot boyfriend, Baz.”

“But you totally could, if you wanted to,” he said, as if that explained everything, and the three of them burst into even more laughter. Lucas had to get control over himself, otherwise he’d have to redo his makeup, a task he really did not want to complete for a second time that night.

A hand tapped his leg and Lucas looked down with a grin to see three year old Amelie Delano, looking mischievous as ever. “Uncle Arthur said to call you Uncle Lulu,” she said breathlessly, in that way all three year olds did.

Lucas glared at Arthur, who became suddenly interested in the set on stage. Lucas bent down to be eye level with Amelie. “You can call me whatever you want,” he said, because if he was being honest it was adorable to hear a toddler call him Uncle Lulu.

Emma appeared at Amelie’s side, sighing deeply. “There you are, I should have known you’d be with Uncle Lucas.”

“Lulu,” Amelie said indignantly, and Emma raised one eyebrow in Lucas’ direction, holding back a laugh.

“Lulu,” Lucas agreed with defeat, giving her tiny hand a high five.

“Break a leg out there,” Emma said as he straightened up, giving him a high five of her own.

“Yours, maybe,” he said with a half a smirk, wondering if she remembered one of their old inside jokes. At first she looked confused, but he saw the exact moment she remembered, laughing in a nostalgic sort of way.

She pointed at him. “Still the same, I see.”

“Why mess with perfection?” he joked, knowing full well that he would never have been standing where he was if he’d actually stayed the same person he was back then.

A hand wrapped around his waist and he turned to see Eliott, softness in his eyes that was reserved only for Lucas and Ouba. “We should get ready,” Eliott said, and the nerves kicked in again.

“We should,” Lucas agreed, and he saw Eliott read the anxiety in his eyes. The two of them moved a little bit out of the way of everyone, finding their own bubble of peace amidst the chaos like they always did.

Eliott put his hands on either side of Lucas’ face. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” Lucas lied, and Eliott saw right through him again.

“This show, it’s everything to me,” Eliott began, and Lucas frowned.

“How is that supposed to make me less nervous?”

Eliott laughed, shaking his head. “Let me finish, Lu. It’s everything to me, because of you. Because I had a dream, and you helped me turn it into a reality, and now I’m living out a dream I never knew I had, the dream of us dancing side by side in a story I’ve held close to my heart for almost twelve years. I don’t care what it looks like to the audience, maybe I should, but I really don't. All I care about is you and I giving the performance I know we’re capable of, because it’s fueled by all the love we share. I’m not afraid, because you’re the best dancer I’ve ever known, and because of all the shit life’s thrown our way, we’ve made it out stronger each time. We can handle anything on our own, but when we’re together all the struggles and pain turn to pure magic, consuming every atom of my being.”

“In another universe you’re a poet, I think. Or maybe a songwriter,” Lucas said dumbly, struck by the power and intention in Eliott’s voice, the love and care in his words.

Eliott smiled and leaned in close, brushing their noses together, like he was waiting. Lucas closed the gap, kissing Eliott deeply. He pulled away, Eliott chasing his lips, and placed his hands on Eliott’s face, each of them holding the world in their hands.

“I’m not afraid,” he said again, and this time it wasn’t a lie.

“Not afraid?”

“Not afraid.”

“Well then, let’s go give the audience the show of a lifetime,” Eliott said, dropping his hands from Lucas’ face and holding one out to him. Lucas accepted it following him back into the hustle and bustle of being backstage the opening night of a ballet. It was Lucas’ favorite place to be, other than wrapped in Eliott’s arms. They took their places in the wings, breaths in synch and hearts on fire.

Eliott had been so many of Lucas’ firsts. First friend, first enemy, first love, first heartbreak, first (and only, if he had anything to say about it) husband, first person Lucas had shown himself to completely, every crack and bruise and flaw most people would flinch away from. Eliott never flinched, which was what made him the last of everything too.

He would be Lucas’ last love, his last husband, his last kiss. There were so many firsts left in his life, and even more lasts, but Eliott would be a part of all of them. And he would be a part of all of Eliott’s.

Lucas looked out at the stage, a mix of melancholy and longing filling his body. There would be a last dance too, of course there would, but that was another thing Lucas wasn’t scared of anymore. He wasn’t scared, because he knew that Eliott would be right there for all of the firsts and all of the lasts, even his last dance.

He looked at Eliott, finding his hand and squeezing it once.

Especially his last dance.

The curtain went up and the music began to swell, and Lucas stepped onto the stage, leaving Eliott’s hand behind him.

Even after years of training, the Paris Opera Ballet was still everything Lucas dreamed it would be. And, he realized, gazing out at the audience, each person waiting for him to blow them away, it was all his. It always had been.

He smiled, and began to dance.

#skam france #elu fic #elu ballet au #lucas lallemant #eliott demaury

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thetomorrowshow · 5 years

Text

Mutually Beneficial Ch. vii

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Recommended listening: The Oh Hellos - The Lament of Eustace Scrubb

Tw: abusive Deceit, but he has reasons, a knife, Graphic (but pretty brief) depictions of violence, blood, Virgil freaks out a bit, and he cries, he’s a sad boi, Roman angst

“Why can't you tell me?”

It was—well, sometime later. Roman had managed to get in a good bit of sleep. Virgil had stayed awake—whether he'd been keeping watch, or just thinking too fast, he didn't know—and nothing had happened. No one had come in. No one had even knocked—something that occurred on occasion for some reason. Roman hadn't even stirred. The peacefulness only served to put him more on edge. Something was going to happen. Deceit wasn't done with Roman. He was going to come back. When, he didn't know. But he was coming.

Now, however, Roman was wide awake, resting his head on his crossed arms, still spread out on his stomach. As simple as the question sounded, Virgil couldn't see a way to answer it.

“I just can't, okay?” He sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I'm sorry. There's nothing I can do.”

“From what I can gather,” Roman said, “you are here willingly. It has to do with Deceit. He has hurt you, likely similar to my afflictions. And you don't want to come back—or perhaps you can't. Is that true?”

“I can neither confirm nor deny.”

Roman groaned in frustration. “Why do you have to be so difficult, Livin' On A Scare?”

Virgil almost smiled at the nickname. It was clear that sleep had done Roman some good. He knew that the nicknames weren't meant to be hurtful, they were a form of artistic expression, something Roman did to get the creative juices flowing. In fact, rather than causing offense, they generally put the anxious side more at ease, bringing a sense of companionable normalcy to the conversation.

“Just . . . when you get back, could you keep Pat and Logan away?” Virgil changed the subject. “They mean well and all, it's just so much worse when this sort of thing—” he gestured vaguely—“could happen.”

“If I can, I shall,” promised Roman. “But I have to ask—why me? Why was I the one you chose?”

Faced with a question he could actually answer, Virgil found himself without words.

“Well, um, you're strong,” he eventually stuttered. “I dunno. I thought maybe Patton or Logan would . . . break. It sounds stupid, I know.”

“No. It sounds right,” Roman said soberly. “In fact, while it was—going on, I found myself grateful that it was I, not one of them.”

That wasn't all, though. Virgil would never say it, but Roman was, in a way, replaceable. If he broke, Thomas would still function—even if Remus wasn't exactly ideal for the role of general creativity.

“I'm not as important as them, anyway,” Virgil heard the prince mutter, several minutes later. He chose not to respond—not because he agreed, he just didn't know what to say.

As time passed, Roman slipped into unconsciousness once again, but his sleep was more heavily disturbed than it had been. He whimpered and mumbled and tried to roll over, then woke from the pain, then scrunched his eyes shut until he fell asleep again.

It wasn't the worst sleep pattern Virgil had ever seen (he was anxiety, after all), but it definitely was not what the Side needed to recover.

Virgil was exhausted as well, but was convinced that this was not the time to sleep. Deceit could return at any moment. He was high-strung, his light a little brighter than it should be. Likely, if he spoke, an echo would bring intense depth to his voice. He couldn't just sit there, he needed to pace, but Roman needed him, but he needed to get out, but he couldn't leave—

Instead, he shifted his weight and turned his head away from Roman. He rubbed his face, breathing measured breaths. In for five, out for eight. In for four, hold for three, out for ten. In for six, out for twelve.

Slowly, his eyes flickered shut.

“Well, this isn't cute at all,” a voice drawled through Virgil's subconscious. His eyes flashed open. Blearily, he took in his surroundings. He was curled up on his side, his purple light a soft, barely-there glow. Judging by the warmth on his back, he was pressed up against Roman. He scrambled up, intending to check on the Side, but a yellow light tore his eyes away.

Deceit loomed over them, that little smirk of his somehow both patronizing and loathing. Without thinking, Virgil asked the question that had plagued his dreams.

“How much longer?”

Roman stirred at the sound of his voice.

“All the time, Virgil. After all, our prince has just arrived.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. A leap of fear had risen in his chest at the words, but he forced it down. Deceit was lying, of course. He was certain that the only reason the Side was here was because the time was almost up, and while Deceit was many things, one thing he was not was someone who reneged on his contracts. He'd learned that much, at least.

Virgil tried to shake the thoughts from his head. It wasn't good to dwell on the past.

“I'm so sorry to do this,” Deceit said. “I definitely don't want to tear you away from your prince, but the corner is begging for your presence.”

Despite himself, Virgil felt his face heat up. He knew better than to talk back, though.

He rose to his feet and started toward the detestable corner, but a gloved hand catching his face gave him pause. The hand cupped his cheek; he reluctantly raised his eyes to meet Deceit's cold, mismatched ones.

“Good boy,” Deceit said softly. Without warning, the hand rose and fell with astounding force, delivering a stinging slap. He recoiled several steps, windmilling a bit, then stumbled on, his face burning. What hurt more, though, was the message Deceit was obviously trying to convey.

“You should be grateful for me! You're worthless, but I took pity on you! Stop crying, you little freak!”

He blinked back the memories like they were tears forming.

Meanwhile, Roman blinked blearily. “Virgil?” he asked, his voice thick with sleep. Deceit knelt beside him, caressing his hair almost lovingly. Virgil refrained from gagging when Roman subtly leaned in to his touch.

“Just a little pain,” whispered Deceit. He reached into an unknown pocket with one hand, the other still coursing through Roman's hair. A sharp dagger glinted as he slid it from the pocket. “Just a little pain, then I can save you.”

Slowly, careful not to nick the Side with the knife, Deceit rolled him onto his back. When Roman inevitably cried out, he immediately stopped and returned to running his hand through his hair, cooing soothing words. It took time, but eventually Roman lay on his back, eyes screwed shut.

Deceit lightly pressed the point of the dagger onto his bare, dirt-smudged chest. Roman shivered at the touch and struggled to sit up, the attempt aborted when Deceit gently pushed him down with his free hand.

“Don't look, Princey. It'll only make it worse,” Deceit said, then whispered again. “Just a little pain.”

He drove the dagger into his chest, dragging it down, ignoring Roman's shouts of pain that were quickly becoming bloodcurdling screams.

Virgil bit hard on the inside of his cheek, forgetting his own pain, trying not to scream as well—whether support for Roman, or a wordless articulation of his anger, he didn't know. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the sick scene before him: Roman writhing and screaming, Deceit holding him in place with one hand, carving—carving letters—into his chest with the other, his forked tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration. Deceit glanced over his shoulder to make eye contact with Virgil at random, ensuring the Side was watching. His twisted grin when he confirmed his viewer was somehow the worst, though. Worse than the screams, worse than the act he was committing.

At some point, Roman's light, which had been flickering since he woke, blinked completely out. His screams never paused.

“What do you think of my handiwork, Virgil?”

Virgil nearly hurled at the neat, huge letters spilling blood onto Roman's torso. The Side was breathing heavily, a little whine of pain accompanying each exhale.

Deceit smirked at Virgil's obvious abhorrence. “They'll scar,” he said, truthful for once. “I would know.”

Virgil turned his eyes away, glad to finally be able to. He wasn't able to look at the door for long, though.

“Get the chains off.”

He took a moment to compose himself, then lurched toward the prince. He should have been grateful to unchain him, should have been happy to see him go. All he could think about, though, was how his head would forever echo with Roman's screams.

Roman didn't react when Virgil released his wrists from the cuffs. Tears continued to spill down his face, though; his breathing continued to to sound pained.

Virgil leaned close to his ear, pretending to be listening to his breathing. “Protect them,” he whispered. He waited until he saw a glint of acknowledgment in his open eye, then backed away, wiping his bloody hands onto his pants.

Deceit snapped his fingers and, for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, Roman was completely dressed. His shirt-tunic-thing (Virgil never knew what to call it) almost immediately blossomed with bloodstains, but seeing him look more princely calmed Virgil a bit—even if his head still lolled and he still made noises of pain.

“Up you go,” said Deceit, clapping his hands. Roman was instantly on his feet, swaying, falling into Deceit's open arms. A look of surprise flitted across his features as he stumbled back a few steps.

“Woah, I—I totally didn't expect you to weigh the same as your brother,” he grunted.

“Yes, w-well, I. . . .” Roman trailed off with small chirp of pain. Virgil tried to relax even more. If Roman was already trying to make comebacks, then he would be okay, he told himself. Definitely. He could stop worrying.

“All right, I'm not going to carry you,” Deceit said bluntly. “You'll need to walk with me. Left foot . . . there we go. Right foot. Okay. Left foot. Stop crying, Prince. Right foot. Virgil, open the door. Left foot.”

Virgil did as he was told, trying not to stare as Roman teetered and stumbled, trying not to flinch every time Deceit slapped Roman upside the head.

The two exited, Deceit's bowler hat askew, Roman's face ashen. Virgil watched them from the doorway as they got farther away, saw Roman completely collapse about halfway down the hall.

“Close the door, Virgil,” Deceit called without looking back. Again, Virgil did as he was told. He leaned against the closed door, rubbing his eyes. Slowly, he slid to the floor. Hours and hours of holding back the deluge pressing at the inside of his face came to an end.

Virgil sobbed.

TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @i-can-get-extra-with-my-ships @stop-it-anxiety @emo-adjacent @bl00scl00s @kai-the-person @charakitcat @sandersstuffsblog @shitpost-sides @ginnyfox617

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judgement-free-sideblog · 5 years

Text

The enemy of love is the truth

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Summary: They were happy just as friends, but one morning the call from an old trauma may change everything.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, history of drug use, mental health issues, cursing, angst.

This one is extremely long but I love the final result, the next chapter will be the end, thank for reading, comments are more than welcome.

■Part I ■ Part II ■Part III ■ Part IV ■ Part V ■ Part VI■ Part VII ■ Part VIII | Final ■

Part V

"And you didn't kiss, again?" Zawe said, she took a sip from her wine glass and take her hand to her forehead with exasperation. "This has been going on forever now, I'm done, Caroline you take care now"

"Don't look at me, I basically push them together what else can I do? Lock them inside my office? Trust me I have thought about it." The other woman said.

"Excuse me, I'm still here and I can hear you" Y/N said questioning why did she agree to have lunch with them in the first place, however she had chose to only tell them about the invitation to an ex's wedding and the late tea at Tom's flat and not a single thing else "And what does again is supposed to mean?"

"New year two years ago" Caroline started "I was dating that gorgeous Greek guy with the most beautiful abs I have ever seen, and everyone kissed at midnight, and what did you do? You leave the dance floor to go vomit in my bathroom"

"Oysters and champagne don't mix" Y/N said getting red remembering the night "And Stavros was only kind of hot" she add making Caroline sigh with pretend indignation.

"What about january last year?" Zawe continued "Bobby was sick and he was on call for his last movie, and you take a week off to stay at his place to help him out"

"First of all I love that dog, and I did that for him more than for Tom, and second I didn't stayed at his place" She answered knowing pretty well she was lying "I only get there super early and went out late at night, but I would have done that for you guys too"

They continued laughing and talking about nothing in particular, with the subject coming up time to time, they meant well and Y/N knew it, even if they didn't knew the whole story.

"Being honest he is as guilty as you are" Caroline said signaling the waiter to get the check. "Last year on November you were at that gynecology symposium on Madrid, and he acted like he was losing his mind until he got in to a plane to met you there, and what brilliant excuse did he give you? He said he needed a flu shot and don't trust his doctor here, also all those times he had crashed at your apartment are total bullshit I was with him the other night and he didn't have a single drop, and I'm getting tired of helping him pretend he does"

"Oh please stop it already" they were walking towards Zawe's car and she was as amused to find the truth about that obvious lie as she was exasperated by her friends "You are right ok? at least on my side. I have been childish about all of this. But if I'm honest I don't know what could I do? In the end I'm still a general practitioner from a tiny hospital and he is Tom Hiddleston"

"Well darling, he could be the sound engineer of the theater or the Prime Minister himself" Said Zawe once they were inside the car "He still is crazy about you. What you have to do is take the leap, talk about it like adults, go to the bloody wedding and enjoy yourself without thinking of anyone else"

"And for once don't run away like a scared chicken when things get personal" Caroline said happy that she finally was able to acknowledge her feelings.

"Sure... why not? By the way I been meaning to tell you something..."

The conversation fade away in other topics, a few more relevant than others, but Y/N mind was far away in the past thinking of the last time she risked all for him and how tremendously wrong it all have turn out.

They had agree he will pick her up at her place, after the most demanding shift she ever had, she took a quick shower and put on a flowy dress, and her coat, and in an effort to look more decent a pair of earrings.

She was trying desperately to make her makeup work when an alarm went off in her phone, a reminder to make a call and before she could think it trough she was already listening the dial tone, praying for him to don't pick up.

"Hi there" his voice finally said when she was about to hang up "so glad to hear you. It's everything alright?"

"Completely, how about you? Did you change your job as you wanted?" She said, now trapped in the conversation.

"I did, and them I changed it again, that's why you should call people more than once a year, otherwise you never know the full story. What's new with you?"

"I start working part time at a theater, as a personal doctor for the manager" she said getting close to what she wanted to say to him.

"Oh that's great, have you met someone interesting there? Are you dating some gorgeous Shakespearean actor... actress??" He still knew her well enough to make things easy for her to talk about.

"I do, in fact I have a date... soon, it's that ok?" She said the last a bit doubtful, she didn't want to hurt him again.

"That's amazing Y/N" David said sincerely "And relax, is not me who you should be worried about, I want you to be happy, just don't go sabotaging things like you use to. I love you girl, but if I'm honest I think you chose to be miserable even when other people try their best to make you happy"

They talked for another couple minutes and when she finally said goodbye his words kept resonating in her mind, but he was wrong, it was not sabotaging, it was self preservation, like this stupid idea of a date. She was quite sure he was trying to make her feel less ashamed for her drunken advances on him, a nice dinner, some talking so she could go on with her life thinking "It simply didn't work, but he is such a nice man"

And she hated herself for ending up in such pathetic position, thinking of how much fun tom must have had watching her making a fool of herself. She was determined then to call off the date, make a graceful scape before she could embarrassing herself but before she could called him there was a ring at her door.

He was gorgeous of course, his beard as well maintained as always and his hair combed to de back of his head in beautiful waves that she wanted to touch since the first time she saw him. He was wearing a coat over a simple dark grey shirt and jeans.

He smiled fondly at her when he saw her, there were dark circles under her eyes and he thought they looked beautiful, something refreshing about a woman who worked that hard on something that she loved.

Y/N intrigued him, she seemed to live like a mature functioning adult, but there was a childish sparkle in her eyes when she started to talk that made him want to know more about her, but then that ever present hint of sadness always refraining her to talk to much, all of which made her the most interesting puzzle.

"Something in mind you would like to eat?" He asked once they were inside his car, with his tinted windows up, he liked driving alone, but he liked his privacy more and they have proven to be an effective solution.

"Not really, anywhere you pick will be fine" she said smiling and he drove to a nice restaurant, making small talk about work, their mutual friends and the weather.

Once they arrived the valet took his keys and gave her what he thought was a meaningful almost impertinent smile.

"I really need to apologize for my behavior" She started once their food was ordered and the waiter had served them two big glasses of wine "It was inappropriate for me to act like that. I am deeply sorry"

"Don't be, we were all a little drunk. But it was nice talking to you" they ate in silence, other than, what she felt, empty mutual compliments on each others carreras. Proving what she had fear since the night before. Until he finally spoke again "I've been meaning to ask you, did you enjoy the play?"

"Absolutely, Mister Cox and Miss Ashton are outstanding, and you obviously it's an incredible play, all things considered" she said taken aback by the question and cursing herself for the last part.

"What things considered?" He asked now genuinely intrigued.

"Oh I'm sorry, I misspoke, it's something stupid actually" she said nervously trying to avoid his gaze and failing.

"Come on, I'm a big boy, I can take some criticism" he lean back on his chair and open his arms, as if he waited for a punch, his eyes still fix on Y/N.

"Ok, but do notice this is coming from Y/N the feminist doctor who spend her free time protesting and not Y/N the fan of theater and literature." She said finally looking back at him decided "I think somehow it demonizes Emma's betrayal and eventual "punishment" while it glorifies the male ego of the two men. And also Robert Down is a prick"

He opened his mouth slightly surprised and then closed his lips in a thin line and let go a chuckle, with a mild blush crossing his face.

"Auch" He said finally, "Well it's and old play... and he amm of course is not a good person, I guess if you are not familiarized with Pinter's work you may have that kind of conclusion"

He had trouble finding his words to debate her, although he was impressed with her honesty, but since it was a sensible matter he wanted to be clear, however Y/N interpreted as him trying to dismiss her statement and change the subject, which put her one step closer to anger.

"You really are that nice aren't you?" She started, with her voice cold and sharp "And I don't mean it as a compliment, but you are right. I don't know Harold Pinter's work but I do know he is factually wrong, there's no deep intricate meaning behind betrayal, in the end is quite simple, people can't make the choice of remaining truthful either to themselves or the people who they love without being bitches about it. You like to shag around no strings attached fine do that don't complain is it doesn't feel like a home, you want a successful marriage fine forget about any other bloody temptation and be decent. But I guess in the end lies are what keeps people together. Once the truth is out, love dies and so the relationship" he was astonished, however the passion in her voice made him answered to her in a similar tone, changing completely the direction he had imagine for the evening.

"Don't be absurd, that would imply people need to systematically lie in order to keep their relationships, if anything the play is a critique on those precise actions, while normal people try to have loving relationships in honesty, even when sometimes is easier to say a lie. And there's a complete difference between lying to save your arse and conceal your dishonesty, and lying to be socially functional"

"So you never lie?" She asked now completely furious of what she felt was hypocrisy.

"Everybody lies, that's the point, there is a difference in being oblivious on other people's feelings imposing your wrong personal opinions and pretend that's some moral high honesty, and being polite enough to avoid subjects that may hurt others" He said now crossing her arms, pleased with her momentary silence until she start to look for something in her purse trying to hide the hurt in her face.

"Exactly" She said finally putting a couple £50 notes on the table and looking at him with anger in her eyes "Like asking stupid women out so they don't feel like total idiots for hitting on you while they were drunk? That kind of politeness?"

"What?" He said flabbergasted finally rising his voice "That's why you think I asked you out?"

"Oh don't patronize me!" She said also rising her voice and standing up "It must've been so funny, asking a girl who is obsessed with you on a date, what amazingly beautiful act of chivalry. You know what you are? You are an entitled selfish bastard, who gets off on the world worshiping him." She took her purse of the table and put her coat back on, and before leaving she add "And men can't be feminist, you would know that if you read a book on feminist theory instead the glorified misogynistic bastards you adore"

She quickly move away from the table leaving a perplex Tom behind, but before she could exit the restaurant he started following her, reaching her just a couple meters from the valet parking station next to the restauran small planters.

"Oh this is very mature of you" he called her "You owe me an explanation"

"I don't owe you shit" He was close enough so he catch her by her wrist.

"Or at least let me take you home" he said turning her around, she rise her other hand and he prepared his right cheek for what he anticipated will be a slap, but something caught her eye and instead and she took her hand to her ear and to his surprise she change her voice to a high pitch whining, causing him to let her go.

"Oh whe is it? Where did I leave it? It must have fallen here" she started looking for something in the planters and kneeling near the fence.

"Are you having a stroke?" He asked getting down to her level "what are you looking for?"

"There's a guy with a camera hiding behind a car two meters from you" she said rapidly in a whisper, she quickly put one of her earrings in his hand and said: "Follow my lead, don't look back. Stand up now"

He did as she told him and they stand up, he was still holding the earring in his hand when she took it smiling wide, and putting it back on, and then for his surprise hugging him.

"Smile, get back inside, go to the bar, order a drink and then come back and ask for your car" she said using the proximity to whisper in his ear.

"Why?" He asked and the breaking the contact.

"Just trust me" she said between her teeth and smiling again. He returned the smile and nodded, going back in completely clueless of what was happening, in inside corner of his eye he could see the man with the camera.

He order a glass of wine, but he barely even touch it, the ten minutes he waited felt like eternity and finally he exited the place again. He give the ticket to the valet. The young man went for it immediately and he couldn't help to feel observed. When his car finally arrived and he tried to tip him the guy simply said "it's taken care of, drive safe" He nodded and get in his car not surprised to see Y/N already in the passenger seat.

He drove off and once they were a couple blocks away they looked at each other, and before anyone could talk they started laughing hysterically but it also felt cathartic.

"Care to explain what happened love?" He asked now back to his normal tone "Did you break into my car?"

"Of course not, Philip amm... the valet guy, he works half time as a medical assistant in my hospital. A couple weeks ago he told me that sometimes the waiters of that restaurant call the papers to get scoops on celebrities, and I assumed you didn't want my stupid tantrum in the first page tomorrow"

"Well no, but at least I'm glad you admit it was a tantrum. Can I know what happened?"

"Oh, the guy with the camera come asking me why you were chasing after me, I told him I made a scene in the restaurant because I couldn't find my late grandmother earrings and this handsome" She said exaggerating an innocent voice "who I didn't catch his name, help me found it, then I texted Philip to let me get inside your car, because I supposed he will be waiting for you to come out"

"That's amazing and clever" he said genuinely impressed by her story "But I meant at the restaurant"

"Oh... I had a terrible day, and I leashed out on you" she said turning red. "I am really sorry, you are not an entitled bastard, and everything I said... it was just out of place. I completely respect your acting, and I shouldn't have expressed myself that way" she apologized for all the things she have said without him interrupting her while he drive back to her place.

"Don't worry about it" he said finally smiling at Y/N again with the most candid smile he had given her yet "I'm sure other people have called me worst, just not to my face, and I do appreciate your honesty. Just one thing." He said parking the car at her door. "That's not why I asked out, and I apologize because I didn't make my intentions clear in the beginning. Nevertheless this was a fun experience"

"Said that again" she said without thinking.

"This was really fun I actually enjoyed your company..."

"No, that word 'nevertheless' sounds way more powerful when you say it."

"Nevertheless?" He said getting out of the car.

"Yeah, I actually have a tattoo that says nevertheless she persisted" she started playing with her keys in her doorway, looking pleased by the interest he show on that detail.

"You do go out protesting huh?" He said taking one step closer.

"I do, and I'm really sorry again" she said looking away and finally putting the keys in the lock.

"And again it's nothing really, so now... am I'll guess..."

"I'll see you around" she said, he kissed her on the cheek and she entered her flat, wishing to forget everything about that day.

By the time she was back at the theater next day, she was hoping to leave all behind, but everyone seemed to be obsessed with Tom's random act of kindness to a stranger that thank goodness the camera hadn't focused well.

She chose to hide inside her office the rest of the night until by the time she assumed everyone will be leaving someone knocked on her door, she opened thinking Caroline may be needing something, but she was surprised when she saw Tom standing there.

"Today it's my birthday, and we are going to celebrate, would you like to come by? I can't help to remind how you called Charlie and Zawe mister and miss, and I think they would like you" he said passing his fingers trough his hair distractedly.

"I know, yeah I would love too" She said immediately "But first, please come in, I... um... I actually got you something, it's a birthday present and also a peace offering for the way I acted yesterday" She went to her desk with him following behind her. She took something from the drawer "You are an amazing Robert, and I know you like to research your characters, I mean you probably have read this already but I thought you might like it" she give him a neatly wrapped brown package with a nice blue ribbon on top.

He opened unceremoniously with a child like expressions, touched by her gesture. And he opened his mouth in excitement and disbelief when he saw the book inside.

The Wild Swans at Coole. Other Verses and a Play in Verse. YEATS, W. B.

"Is this a...?"

"A signed original edition, yes." She said happy "I assume you have many of this but I couldn't think of anything else to give you"

"It's perfect actually" he said already carefully opening the book "This is too much, thank you"

"Your welcome" she took her purse and stand up ready to leave. "So where are we going?"

"Right right" He said standing up too. "You are gonna love this guys".

That had been the end of their would be romance and also the beginning of their friendship, but while Y/N tried on one of the multiple dresses Zewe had chosen for her the idea of trying again started to look less and less crazy, her plan was already in motion, she only hoped now that he would feel the same, and even more important than that, she prayed she wouldn't loose him in case he didn't.

#tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston #zawe ashton #charlie cox #robert and emma betrayal #betrayal #harold pinter #angst #romance #friendship #bobby hiddleston #tom hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fluff

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thornsickle · 5 years

Note

Does your opinion or thoughts still stand regarding where things end in IX?

I would say the priority concerning IX is the Force, so in terms of story, I believe to create a cohesive story that joins I all the way to IX, you have to deal with the issue of the Force and give it some kind of conclusive ending. Whether the Force as a form of magical power available to humans will disappear, I do not know, it is a bit vague and abstract for a main stream audience and I have no idea how they would do it, but to me I think it gives the whole saga the best ending. From what I have heard on the set, don’t worry, no spoilers, the Force does play a major part for Rey and Kylo. I think the return of Palpatine also lends credence to the idea of the Force as a power being a major issue in this film, becoming more solid and present than ever before. Also, I think JJ’s focus has always been on the Force. He named Episode VII ‘The Force Awakens’ after all.

As far as Rey and Kylo are concerned, I stand by the idea that Ben Solo, if not Kylo Ren, will survive. But by taking away their powers, Rey and Kylo will in essence be able to live in peace, and Ben will no longer be burdened with this gift, which is almost a curse upon his family. Yet the reason his family had to endure all this pain and suffering was because they were the only ones powerful enough and ‘grey’ as far as the spectrum of the Force is concerned, to deal with this issue somehow and ultimately bring true balance by setting the Force free. I don’t know if you have ever watched ‘The Dark Crystal’ but a very similar ending is applied there as well. It would also mean the whole story of the force-sensitive Skywalkers ends, and they reclaim their anonymity within society.

Now, the second half, concerning whether they will be together? I don’t know honestly but I will give it a stab since you asked. Once the Force is free, if that is indeed what happens, who knows, but then I think their fates could be left unclear. The fact that they were separated after TLJ, makes me ponder though and look back at what I wrote. In my post I stated that the ‘yin yang’ concept is where the two characters can no longer be together because they have finally found their respective identities. In a way, this is what Rian Johnson did at the end of his film; Rey finally embraces her status as a jedi “I will not be the last Jedi” and Kylo is the Supreme Leader, finding his identity by rejecting his mentor and doing what he said he wanted to do, building something new (will he though?).

What is perplexing and quite honestly throwing people off I think, is that as a story arc, this is a form of conclusion. In any other story concerning opposites, like those I mentioned in my post (His Dark Materials, Spirited Away, Casablanca, Princess Mononoke), this would be the end of the story. They cannot stay together though they care for each other, because they understand they are opposites and don’t belong in their respective worlds, after having defeated some form of evil and found their identities (in this case Snoke).

But this isn’t the end of the story. The point which is unresolved, is Kylo Ren. This is where we deviate and something else I think should be seen as a reference point, other than the ‘yin-yang’. Ben Solo, as depicted in TLJ, is more than simply the ‘monster’ in Frankenstein, more than the shadow figure. He is about as byronic as you can possibly get, right down to his costume. The scene where Rey rejects Kylo’s offer, screams of ‘Jane Eyre’. Jane also, the main heroine in this book baring her name, rejects her Byronic Hero, Mr Rochester, half way through the novel. Not because she does not love him, but because of her morality. The same can be said of Rey; she cares about Kylo, she understands why he is the way he is, she wants him to make the right choices, but she cannot make them for him, and also recognizes the corruption within his mind, just as Jane does with Mr Rochester, who states he loves her more than any form of morality. I won’t go through an entire analysis of ‘Jane Eyre’, we would be here forever and I am sure someone out there has done one already with links to what we are talking about, but the point is Mr Rochester has to reform and pay sacrifices in order to finally earn Jane as a partner in life. He has her love, but it is only when he understands his own faults and selfishness concerning his hunger to have Jane as his own, that he can finally be able to walk through life with her in peace and harmony. I would say Ben Solo will ultimately have to do the same and reform therefore his ideas concerning his past, his moral compass, and ideas concerning power. It’s possible this is what Rian Johnson sowed into his story. Not an ultimate conclusion, but a barrier, something unresolved between them because they have still not reached the end of their journey together. If so, and if JJ agrees, then I think it was actually possible and not ridiculous, to suggest Rey and Kylo could end this story together, since they were apart at the end of TLJ. But who knows.

Now, as far as the film is concerned, it’s possible it will remain unclear even to the audience what they fates will be. They could simply slip away into myth, a bit like the end of ‘Phantom of the Opera’. There you have an antagonist who also happens to be a Byronic Hero (at least in the musical, a mixture of ‘the monster’, as he was in the novel, and the more romantic hero, much like Kylo Ren is a mixture of the two) who kidnaps his heroine and kills people. Pretty damning right? But at the end, we hold sympathy for him but you understand he can never be part of the real world. That’s the grain of realism which I really appreciate about that story. He slips away, only leaving his mask behind, a symbol of his past, a legacy, a myth, and he escapes literally, but becomes for the audience something else, like a ghost, slipping into the mists of time, never to be seen again. I would be very satisfied to see something similar with Ben Solo, taking the legacy of his family with him, but putting an end to their story by returning it back to where all these things must return, the pages of a book, a story, a myth, a fairytale. He is no longer important to that legacy because it can now take on a life of it’s own. I think JJ very much is interested in the ‘fantasy’ element of Star Wars, if his commentary on TFA is anything to go by. His use of terms like ‘castle’ Princess’ and ‘Prince’ are pretty telling, as well as the dialogue he gives to Rey, as she states “Luke Skywalker? I thought he was a myth!”

And after all, this whole thing started with a very telling line.

‘A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away….’

#reylo #rey x kylo ren #rey x ben #episode ix #the rise of skywalker #reylo meta #ben solo #skywalker #ben x rey #ben solo is nOT DEAD

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sushigirlali · 6 years

Text

Finding You - Part III (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I - Part II - Part III - Part IV - Part V - Part VI - Part VII - Part VIII - Part IX

Summary: Unseen forces move against Kylo Ren from within the First Order as he struggles to unravel Snoke’s deceptions / Rey must balance her relationship with Ben Solo and her dedication to the cause that opposes him / Leia Organa makes a desperate plea to an old friend in a last ditch effort to restore the Resistance. Pairing: Rey x Kylo Ren/Ben Solo [Reylo] [ReyBen] Continuity: Set directly after Star Wars: Episode VIII - The Last Jedi ends. Warnings: There is a lemon in Part II. Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything that relates to Star Wars.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who has enjoyed my little story, and a special shout out to those who have left kind reviews. I really appreciate it, and they definitely motivate me to write more. I haven’t received any nastiness myself, but some people really seem to hate the Reylo ship. Still, I want to stay positive and not sink to the same level as antis. Fandom can be a scary place sometimes, but it’s okay to like what you like and not worry about the rest. May the Force be with you <3 You can find me on FanFiction.net as sushigirlali as well. Enjoy!

Finding You - Part III By: sushigirlali

I know forever don’t exist After this life, I’ll find you in the next When I say “forever,” it’s the goddamn truth I’ll keep finding, finding you

Rey raced into the Millennium Falcon’s lounge, panting hard. She had barely taken time to dress after breaking the connection with Ben.

“General Organa!” she gasped as she slid to a stop in front of her.

“Rey? What’s wrong?” Leia asked, looking away from the star map BB-8 was projecting.

“I need to speak with you. Alone. Urgently.” Rey said quickly. “Please.”

Leia got up, exchanging worried glances with Poe and the other surviving senior officers.

“Let’s talk in the crew quarters.” Leia indicated for Rey to follow her.

Luckily, the sleeping quarters were empty as they arrived, so Rey launched into a clumsy explanation.

“Ben is—I’ve done something without permission. He—Ben is returning to us. He’s choosing the light. I—I…” Rey stammered, realizing all of a sudden that she was talking to her lover’s mother, and not just General Organa.

“Rey,” Leia said sternly. “Come sit down, child, and speak slowly.”

“General, I told Ben where we are. He’s—" She started.

“You did what?” Leia sat up sharply.

“Please, General, please let me explain.” Rey begged her.

“Proceed.” Leia allowed.

“Ben and I are—well. What I’m trying to say is he’s leaving the First Order. Today. Right now. Hux is trying to seize control and kill him, so he has to leave immediately. I told him our location and he’s coming to Ahch-To.” Rey held her breath, trying to decipher Leia’s expression.

“Rey, I know that the dark side can be tempting, but—” Leia began skeptically.

“It’s not like that.” Rey interrupted. “I’m sorry that I haven’t spoken to you about this before now, but I was trying to protect him. Ben and I are bonded through the Force. We can project ourselves over any distance and speak to each other. Just as Luke did on Crait.”

“Did Luke know about this…connection?” Leia asked, stunned at the revelation.

“Yes, he did.” Rey acknowledged. “He tried to stop me from going to Snoke’s ship, but I knew that I had to in order to save Ben. General, he’s changed. He finally knows the truth about Luke’s supposed betrayal—”

“You know why my son turned to the dark side?” Leia looked shocked.

“Yes, both Ben and Luke explained their side of the incident to me. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that Ben has been able to look objectively at the events of that fateful night, and now realizes that he was mistaken. Ben knows that Luke would not have killed him. With this vital piece of information, along with Snoke’s death, I truly believe that he’s free to be Ben Solo again.” Rey said honestly.

Leia still looked extremely concerned. “I would love to believe you, Rey, but what if Kylo Ren is able to control you through this link, like Snoke did him?”

“General, Ben has never been able to control me. Not even the first time we met, when I was a complete novice in the ways of the Force.” Rey insisted.

“Has he used it to hurt you in any way?” Leia enquired.

“No!” Rey denied emphatically. “No, he’s been very gentle. Even when he’s angry with me, he hasn’t tried to harm me.”

“How often have you linked with him?”

“At first it was random, maybe every couple of days, but I initiated the bond myself just a few hours ago. I think I can do it again. I think he can too.” Rey informed her truthfully. “As far as I can tell, our bond is sustained through the Force itself. Like a spiritual bridge.”

Despite herself, Leia looked up in wonder. “That is a rare thing, Rey, to be able to hold such a strong connection without adverse effects.” Rey knew she was thinking about her dearly departed brother.

“Yes, I know.” Rey replied earnestly.

“Can you interact physically through this bond?” Leia’s queried, her eyes fixed on Rey’s face.

Rey blushed, but nodded.

“Rey, are you sure your mind hasn’t been clouded by Kylo Ren? The Sith are capable of a great many mind games. He could be using you, tricking you, in order to find our base. I can’t allow the Resistance to be snuffed out, not even for my wayward son, not even for you.” Leia said seriously.

Staring directly into her eyes, Rey covered Leia’s hand with her own, allowing her leader access to her mind at will. “I swear to you with all that I am, Ben is on our side! He fought side-by-side with me against Snoke’s Praetorian Guard. He killed Snoke himself to protect me. General, Ben Solo is in love with me.”

Leia’s eyes winded as she sensed the truth behind Rey’s words, seeing Ben as Rey did through her memories. “I…thought he was gone forever, after Han…but now…Rey, you’ve pulled off a miracle.”

Leia sounded so hopeful that Rey knew the General was finally starting to understand. Rey only prayed that Leia would skip over their more personal moments if she read her mind further. Still, the potential embarrassment was worth it to save Ben’s life.

“Alright, we’ll help him.” Leia conceded, wiping away an errant tear. “But I’m still not comfortable with putting the Resistance in harm’s way. There are so few of us now. Do you have a plan?”

“I think you and the rest of the Resistance should take the Falcon and disappear for a few hours. I’ll wait here for Ben, and will call you back when it’s safe.” Rey said.

“How will you contact us?” Leia asked.

“With the binary beacons. I’ll turn mine on once it’s safe to come back.” Rey replied.

“This could work.” Leia contemplated. “What is my son’s part in all this? Did he tell you of his intentions?”

“Ben said he may have to blow up the Star Destroyer his command shuttle is on to get out. But honestly, I’m hoping he’s able to sneak away without a fight. Since we know the First Order has developed active lightspeed tracking, I’m scared that he’ll unintentionally lead the First Order to our doorstep.” Rey said, voicing fears that had arisen once her senses came back to her.

“Obviously, you didn’t consider the consequences when you gave my son the coordinates to our safe haven.” Leia said disapprovingly.

Rey felt her face heat. No, in her panic, she hadn’t thought about anyone but Ben.

“You’re not the first, nor will you be the last, to be struck momentarily insane by love.” Leia sighed, patting Rey’s hand in a motherly manner.

“General, I’m sorry that I acted so rashly. I was afraid.” Rey freely admitted.

Leia nodded in understanding. “Are you sure that you’ll be alright alone down here? I could leave Poe or Finn with you.” She suggested with a twinkle in her eye.

“I don’t think that would help the situation, but thanks for worrying about me. Besides, I haven’t, uh, talked to Finn about Ben yet.” Rey cringed at the idea of telling her best friend she was in love with the perceived enemy.

“I’m sure he’ll take it in stride, having just recently discovered love himself.” Leia responded pointedly.

Rey laughed, as Leia had meant her too.

“Now, I have to go sell this outlandish plan to our compatriots. I suggest you sneak out the back and get that beacon ready.” Leia stood, drawing Rey up into a warm hug.

“Thank you for trusting me, General.” Rey sighed, appreciating the comfort Leia offered.

“I think you should get used to just calling me Leia.” She smirked in that way mother’s do when they know something that you don’t.

But, never having had a real mother before, Rey just smiled back before taking her leave.

I know forever don’t exist But after this life, I’ll find you in the next So when I say “forever,” it’s the goddamn truth

Rey paced back and forth on the flat, rocky outcrop where the Millennium Falcon had lifted off from five hours earlier. She was beginning to worry about Ben. It had been over an hour since she had attempted to connect with him through the Force. He hadn’t responded to her call, nor had he tried to make contact himself.

“Where are you, Ben?” Rey wondered out loud.

Rey knew she was being unreasonable, but he should’ve at least checked in with her by now. Maybe their bond didn’t work at lightspeed? No, that was stupid. The Force wasn’t bound by something as technological as hyperspace travel. Still, there had to be a reason why he had remained silent so far.

Rey steadfastly refused to think about the worst-case scenario. No, Ben was alive out there, somewhere. She would know if something had happened to him. Leia would know.

So, Rey paced until nightfall when, just as panic started to set in, Ben’s command shuttle materialized in the dark blue sky. Rey almost fell to her knees in relief as the craft maneuvered effortlessly onto the landing site.

Minutes later, the entrance ramp extended outward, revealing a cloaked silhouette in the doorway. Rey ran forward as the figure staggered slightly down the gangway.

“Ben?!” Rey yelled as she drew near.

“I’m okay.” He assured her. “Just a little beat up.”

Rey pulled him into a tight hug, kissing his bruised face.

“What happened?” she demanded.

“I had to fight my way to the hanger bay where my command shuttle was kept. The other guys look worse, believe me.” He said with a savage grin.

“But how did you get away?”

“I remote piloted my TIE fighter to catch their attention and throw off the lightspeed tracker, then jumped to lightspeed in my command shuttle from inside the hangar. I didn’t stick around to see what happened to the Star Destroyer.” Ben explained.

“After seeing the damage Holdo caused by jumping into the First Order’s fleet firsthand, I can only imagine.” Rey said, whistling softly. “But where have you been all this time? It’s been over twelve hours since we…since I saw you last.”

“Well, I didn’t want to lead the First Order to you. So, I drove through an asteroid field on the way in case anyone was following me, or my ploy with the TIE fighter didn’t work.” He told her.

“So, that’s why you wouldn’t answer me.” Rey shook her head. Ben was a risk-taker, just like his father.

“Hey, I was concentrating on not crashing into giant flying balls of rock. I figured you wanted me alive more than you wanted reassurance.” Ben replied.

“You’re no good to me dead, Ben Solo.” Rey agreed coyly, running her fingers through his wavy hair. “I need you.”

Ben groaned at her touch, crushing her body against his as he breathed in her scent.

“Ben!” she yelped in mock protest as his lips attacked her throat.

He titled her face up to his in answer, taking her mouth in a fierce, heated kiss. Rey sank into his embrace, loving the unadulterated passion he felt for her. They whispered their love for each other between kisses, thrilled to be together in person, and on the same page, at long last.

Just as Ben started pulling her toward the command shuttle, the telltale sound of the Millennium Falcon rang through the air.

“They aren’t supposed to come back until I use this.” She said, holding up the deactivated binary beacon around her wrist.

When Ben didn’t respond, Rey looked up into his face. He seemed frozen as the Falcon landed before them.

“It’s going to be okay.” Rey reassured him. “I’ve already spoken with your mother. She knows that you’re here. They all do.”

Ben gave her a stunned look. “I knew it was inevitable that I would see her again, but now that the moment is here, I—I don’t know what to say.”

Rey moved to his side, holding his hand tightly.

“It’s going to be okay.” She repeated. “You’re not alone.”

Suddenly the Falcon’s exterior door opened, followed by the piercing sound of metal grinding against metal as the ramp struggled to extend.

“Stupid, old piece of junk.” Leia muttered crossly as she walked out to meet them.

“General—I mean, Leia. What are you doing here? I haven’t called you back yet.” Rey asked curiously.

“I got tired of waiting. Poe of all people recommended patience, but I overrode him.” Leia replied serenely.

As Leia turned to look at Ben, his hand tightened around Rey’s.

“Mother, I—mother—” Ben tried to speak, but he couldn’t seem to find the words.

“Ben, it’s okay.” Rey whispered soothingly. “Take your time.”

“Mother, I’m sorry. For Father. For Luke. For everything.” Ben choked out.

Leia moved forward slowly, her face pained but open. “I know, my son, I know.”

Leia raised Rey and Ben’s connected hands, enveloping them with both of hers.

“Because of this—because of the two of you—we have a chance to put the past behind us and move toward a brighter future.” Leia told them solemnly. “This will not be an easy transition for any of us. Especially those who have lost friends and family due to your actions as Kylo Ren.”

Ben flinched, but nodded. Despite his change of heart, there was much he had to atone for.

“I won’t make excuses for my many misdeeds. I have done some truly evil things in the service of the dark side. But, I promise you that I will spend every day of the rest of my life protecting you and Rey, and helping to bring a permanent end to the First Order.” Ben vowed.

Leia touched Ben’s face, her eyes glistening. “I’ve missed you, Ben.”

“Mother!” Ben pulled Leia into his arms, hugging her close.

Rey smiled through her tears, thrilled to see Ben reconcile with his mother. She was secretly grateful to Hux for speeding along Ben’s exit from the First Order. Every day he spent away from the dark side was a step in the right direction. And, as Snoke’s influence dissipated, she hoped Ben would come to embrace his new life in the Resistance.

Ben threw an arm around Rey’s shoulders as Leia pulled back. He seemed to need constant contact with her, not that she minded.

Thudding footsteps suddenly echoed in the cool night as Poe Dameron stormed off the Falcon, glaring at Ben the whole way.

“Poe, I’ve decided to let Ben stay.” Leia calmly headed him off. “He is willing to join the Resistance, at Rey’s side, and provide us with tactical information about the First Order and its allies.”

“Is that so? Then as a sign of good faith, hand over your weapon.” Poe demanded hotly.

Ben smirked at the insolent command, his free hand moving to the hilt of his lightsaber. Rey elbowed him in warning from under the shelter of his other arm.

“Poe, do you really think that’s necessary?” Rey asked warily.

“How can you trust him after what he’s done?!” Poe challenged.

“Poe!” Leia reprimanded. “You accepted help from a Stormtrooper with relative ease. Please try to have the same courtesy towards my son.”

“Leia, don’t be blind! Finn was a slave to the First Order who refused to murder innocent people in cold blood. I hardly think that equates him to this monster.” Poe shot back.

Ben held up a hand as Rey started to protest.

“You’re right, I was a monster. I’ve done horrible things. Things I’ll never be able to make up for. And they haunt me.” Ben said, his voice thick with emotion. “Please, just give me a chance to do something right.”

Poe considered him thoughtfully for a few moments before breaking into a friendly smile. “Alright, you get one chance. But if you screw up, I’ll make it my mission in life to destroy you.”

And with that, Poe went back up the ramp, whistling to himself.

“Welcome to the Resistance.” Leia said wryly as Ben stared after Poe in confusion and Rey doubled over with laughter.

I’ll keep finding, finding, finding you Keep finding, finding you

Ben stared up at the ceiling, his muscles aching from the day’s activities. Ever since he’d shown up a week ago, Poe seemed to be trying to kill him with manual labor. Not that he minded, it gave him something to do when Rey was tied up with meetings.

When she wasn’t in strategic planning sessions with his mother, Rey and Ben trained day and night. There was so much that she needed to learn about the Force, and not a lot of time to do it in. But she was a natural, just like him. Her raw strength and talent allowed her to pick up advanced teachings rather easily.

Truth be told, Ben believed that he would learn more from her in the long run. He felt more comfortable in his own skin, gaining confidence and perspective with each day. The guilt was still there, for all the atrocities he had committed, but it was manageable now. The first few days on Ahch-To had been nearly unbearable. Everywhere he looked, he saw the faces of his victims.

Shockingly, the reactions from his mother’s small Resistance force ranged from ignoring his existence to tolerating him. But no one seemed to outright hate him. And that’s how he knew he was fighting on the right side once and for all. The fact that these people were giving him a second chance, the same ones he had tried to exterminate not too long ago, meant the galaxy to him.

And then there was Rey, his shining light. Without her, he knew where he’d be now: angry, alone, and still in Snoke’s service. Instead, he had hope for the first time in years. He had a life now, with Rey and his mother, and the promise of a future full of love and acceptance.

As if he had summoned her through their bond, Rey entered the hut, yawning.

“How was your day?” Ben asked as she flopped face down on their bed next to him.

“Supremely annoying.” Rey sighed.

“Yeah?” he said, shifting onto his side.

“But it’s getting better by the minute.” She murmured happily as Ben began massaging the back of her neck.

“What happened?”

“Our supposed allies have finally surfaced, and they’ve been tripping over themselves trying to get back into Leia’s good graces.” She said in disgust. “I guess now that they know Leia has two Jedi on her side, they’re eager to jump into the sack with us again.”

“Sounds like it could get crowded fast.” Ben chuckled, digging into a spot that made Rey’s toes curl.

“Ooh—what?” It was hard to concentrate when he had his hands on her.

“Try to keep up, love.” He said with a knowing smile. “Has Leia decided who we’ll go to first?”

“Very funny.” Rey turned over to face him, lacing her arms around his neck. “She said he was an old friend of your father’s. A smuggler in his own right, but apparently, he’s gone legit. Something about a city in the clouds.”

Ben leaned forward, nuzzling his nose against hers, kissing her sweetly on the lips. Rey hummed in appreciation at the gentle contact.

“That must mean Lando. He’s kept out of the fray over the last few years, so his resources should be intact.” Ben told her, swopping in for a more intense kiss.

But Rey pushed him onto his back before he knew what was happening, flattening her hands on his and trapping them above his head in excitement.

“Lando Calrissian?!” Rey gasped. “But he’s famous! He fought with your mother and father and Luke in the rebellion! I can’t believe it! Do you think I’ll be able to meet him?!”

Ben stared up at her bemusedly. “I’m sure you’ll get to meet him. As long as you do something for me first.”

“And what’s that?” Rey’s eyebrows lifted.

“Come down here and kiss me.” Ben said sensually, pushing up against her.

“Oh, is that all?” Rey giggled, wriggling her bottom.

Straddling his hips as she was, the movement sent shock waves straight to his groin.

“Please.” Ben whispered longingly. “I’ve missed you.”

“Like this?” Rey lowered her torso until her face was level with his, hovering over his lips teasingly.

“Rey!”

“Shh…here,” Rey whispered as she moved his hands to her backside. “There, now, isn’t that better?”

Their eyes met, both intense, hazel against deep brown. Rey framed his face, running her fingertips through his thick locks lovingly, before leaning down to kiss him properly. As the kiss grew in passion, Ben gripped her bottom, shaping it under his hands, grinding her center on his burgeoning erection. They moaned in unison as the world spun away and there was nothing but the hunger they shared for one another.

“Hey, Rey, I need to talk to—oh for the love of—don’t you two ever stop?!“ Finn yelled, holding a hand in front of his eyes in disgust.

“Finn!” Rey growled, sitting back on Ben’s hips. “What have I told you about knocking?!”

“I did knock!” he retorted defensively. “Look, I need to talk to you, but I can tell this is a bad time.”

“No, it’s okay,” Rey sighed. “Just give me a minute.”

“Is that all it takes with him?” Finn joked.

“Get. Out.” Rey ordered, pointing toward the exit.

As Finn shut the door behind him, Ben laughed under her.

“I take it you haven’t spoken to Finn today.” Ben said, rolling his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Rey questioned.

“He wants to discuss Rose with you.” Ben informed her.

“And how do you know that?”

“Because he was in here looking for you earlier and wouldn’t shut up about her.” Ben said in exasperation.

“Are you two…bonding?” Rey asked cheekily.

“I wouldn’t call it that, so much as he kept talking and I didn’t throw him bodily from the room.” Ben denied. He had an image to uphold, after all.

“Oh my, you are bonding!” Rey cried happily. “I love you!”

Ben smiled as she kissed him one more time before getting up. He caught her hand as she slid off the bed.

“You can play therapist to Finn now, but tonight you’re mine.” Ben teased.

“Forever.” Rey promised.

And she was.

~FIN~

A/N: And this is how I would start Episode IX!! Hope you enjoyed my wordy jaunt through Reylo fanfiction land! I’m not promising anything, but I may have a few ideas for more chapters, based on what I’ve set up here. I’m not sure yet if I’ll publish new chapters as a sequel fic, or just continue posting under ‘Finding You.’ Please send me reviews, and let me know what you think. You can follow me on FanFiction.net as sushigirlali. Thanks, friends! <3

A little something extra! Kylo: I can’t believe you sustained motivation long enough to finish this fic. Ali: Babe, you’re telling me! But Reylo is giving me so much inspiration right now, I just couldn’t stop. Kylo: It’s almost like you’ve stopped being a lazy asshole who starts things they can’t finish. Ali: I have no idea what you’re talking about. Kylo: You’ve been writing a seven chapter, umpteen thousand word Dramione fic for like two years. Ali: I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation. Kylo: You’re a crazy person. Ali: I can neither confirm nor deny this allegation. Kylo: *Throws up his hands and walks away* Ali: *Whispers after he’s gone* It’s gonna be TEN chapters!!

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #rey #kylo ren #ben solo #my fanfiction #finding you

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callunawrites · 6 years

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By the grace of the fire and the flames You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins

Heather’s Top 25 38 Songs of 2017!

saturn — sleeping at last // run baby run — the rigs // the brothel (lidolido remix) — susanne sundfør // can’t pretend — tom odell // capsize — frenship // undiscovered first — feist // feeling good (bassnectar remix) — nina simone // kings — tribe society // river — bishop // human — rag’n’bone man // believer — imagine dragons // feel it still — portugal. the man // girl, you’ll be a woman soon — rafferty // wise enough — lamb // say you’ll be there — MØ // holiest — glass animals // the greatest — sia // bogeyman — johnny hollow // to be human — sia // strangers — halsey // cities in dust — everlove // history — monakr // messiah — prides // i shall rise — karen o // in the sea — ingrid michaelson // i put a spell on you — annie lennox // personal yeezus — chambaland // gold — imagine dragons // which witch — florence & the machine // thunder — imagine dragons // take me to church — hozier // trouble — valerie broussard // pure feeling — florence & the machine // battle royale — apashe // i may fall — casey williams // not today — bts // is this love — the governors // sweet dreams — mark hadley ft. dresage

short version | long version

So, the thing is, this mix was originally a whopping 262 songs. That’s 17 hours of delving into my headspace. I know this because the mix in full can be found on spotify, for those adventurous enough. By the end of the year, there may even be more!

The original 200+ can also be found in month format, for those that don’t feel like dealing with... all that. I’m actually a little sad that I don’t get to talk about every single one of them, though I’m sure it would have gotten tedious in the end.

i. saturn || sleeping at last I’d give anything to hear You say it one more time, That the universe was made Just to be seen by my eyes.

This was, according to my last.fm data, my second most played song of 2017. Well, third if we count the song that racked up 10,000 plays because I left it looping on my computer for a week. Whoops. These first four songs on this mix are my Mcshep songs. But also, Sleeping At Last is lovely. There’s several other songs by them on the full mix, but this one is by far my favorite. ii. run baby run || the rigs So wait, keep your heart inside My hands won't keep it safe I'll just feed on dreams & smile as hope slowly dies.

And here we have my most played song of 2017, which I’ve basically been listening to nonstop ever since I discovered @randommindtime‘s Mcshep fanvid. It is absolutely earthshaking, entirely haunting, and just all around a beautiful song that describes John Sheppard and all of his issues to a T.

iii. the brothel (lidolido remix) || susanne sundfør We are ruins within ruins On every corner a gladiator is begging for another century

I’m not sure why this is such a Mcshep song in my mind since I first discovered it as part of a really ridiculously awesome X-Files vid, but my guess is it got thrown into a playlist between two Mcshep songs and was forever that in my head. Fun fact, I only recently, when making the spotify version of this playlist, listened to the original version of the song. iv. can’t pretend || tom odell Oh, feel our bodies grow, And our souls they blend. This song is the only song that has made it onto all three of my year-in-review mixes. I originally found it in 2015 as part of a Bioshock vid and then last year I rediscovered it in the form of @randommindtime‘s other amazing Mcshep vid. And honestly? I haven’t stopped listening to it since. I have no doubt that it’ll be on 2018′s mix as well. v. capsize || frenship Capsize, I'm first in the water Too close to the bottom I'm right back where I started Said I'm fine I found this song through either a Stydia or a Sterek gifset. I’m like... 90% sure that it was Stydia, because it was around the time that season... 6? came out? Whichever one that Stiles is taken in, and thematically it works pretty well for it. But, I’m equally sure I’ve seen a Sterek gifset for the same song. Whatever. It’s pretty and I like it. vi. undiscovered first || feist The height and the breadth, is it wrong to want more?

Gosh. Okay. So, Legion. Mindfuckery of a show that can basically be summed up in words like “acid trip” and “dance numbers?” and “omg aubrey plaza.” It was brilliant and horrifying and really, really cool. But what’s more, it had the best fucking music. The 8tracks version of the mix only has two songs from the show, but the full mix on spotify has six or seven. vii. feeling good (bassnectar remix) || nina simone It's a new dawn, it's a new day, it's a new life for me And I'm feelin' good

This was the second song that I found through Legion. I mean, I’d heard the song before, but holy fucking shit. Like, I knew that I was attracted to Aubrey Plaza, but there’s every other character she’s ever played, and then there’s this role.

viii. kings || tribe society Lost in the world full of nonbelievers Searching for smoke in a stillwater pond A nothing king, they called a dreamer This is my life and I call it a song This and the next song I actually found because I had queued up feeling good on youtube while driving home from my friend’s house after watching that particular episode of legion, and youtube did that thing where it automatically queued up music afterwards? Only I lucked out that night, because the next six or seven songs were absolutely amazing. This was my favorite of those songs and quickly became my Horizon Zero Dawn theme song. ix. river || bishop Can't change the way we are One kiss away from killing

Another of the songs that I found that night! This one also got a lot of play while playing Horizon Zero Dawn. x. human || rag’n’bone man 'Cause I'm no prophet or messiah You should go looking somewhere higher This song I’d originally found through the Mass Effect Andromeda trailer but it quickly became a favorite of mine. xi. believer || imagine dragons By the grace of the fire and the flames You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins Even though this song has been in basically every fanvid since it came out, this was also solidly a Mass Effect Andromeda song for me, since I listened to it a bunch when I was playing the game. It’s one of the songs that I actually don’t mind coming on at work. xii. feel it still || portugal. the man Ooh woo, I'm a rebel just for kicks, now I been feeling it since 1966, now

I actually found this song before it got popular! The first time that it played at work/on the radio I was blown away, but I think the first time I’d heard it was on American Gods? At least I found it when I was watching the show. xiii. girl, you’ll be a woman soon || rafferty Well, I finally found what I've been looking for But if they get a chance they'll end it for sure Okay, so for anyone who is paying attention to this who lives in Columbus, I get my hair done at Virtue Salon, which is basically the best salon in the entire world. Even if you don’t live in Columbus, click on that link. Look at those pictures and tell me that isn’t the most adorable salon in the entire world. They have the best playlists every time I go in, and though I am not super fond of some of the lyrics to this song, I really love the slow croonyness to it. That was a really great day. xiv. wise enough || lamb I had a dream that all of time was running dry And life was like a comet falling from the sky I woke so frightened in the dawning, oh, so clear How precious is the time we have here

I first heard this song on the second season of Sense8 and I was struck by just how damn beautiful it is. It almost didn’t make this final list, but in the end I couldn’t count it out. xv. say you’ll be there || mo Any fool can see they're falling, gotta make you understand I'll give you everything on this I swear Just promise you'll always be there

I don’t actually remember what fanmix I originally found this on, but I remember that I was at the intersection of Clime and Harrisburg-Pike just outside the fire station when I realized that it was a gentle, gorgeous cover of a Spice Girls song and basically fell immediately in love. xvi. holiest || glass animals Yeah, you're the holiest, holiest thing I know This song I found as part of this mix, which is basically a young holy lovers mix and just. has so much quality music. But this song was the first that really made me start looking at Glass Animals. I’d heard some of their stuff before, but never when I was paying attention, not enough for me to decide if I liked them or not. Up until the last month or so, this was my top played track. xvii. the greatest || sia Don't give up, I won't give up Don't give up, no no no

Yeah, there’s no story here. I just really like Sia. xviii. bogeyman || johnny hollow And now I'm dancing for the doomed and the damned And I'm advancing unassumed with dirty hands

Someone I follow on tumblr had reblogged this song back in the spring-summer months when I was feeling very aggressively reylo, and I just. I really like that fairytale where the innocent girl grows up and eats the monster. It’s a favorite of mine and part of the reason that I like pairings like reylo and darklina. xix. to be human || sia And what's the point of knowin' it If you can't change it?

This song came on at the end of Wonder Woman and I made my friend Alex wait until I’d listened to it before I let him leave the theater. I fell pretty rapidly in love with it. xx. strangers || halsey We're not lovers, we're just strangers With the same damn hunger To be touched, to be loved, to feel anything at all I won’t say that this is my favorite song off of Halsey’s new album, because that goes to Mourning, but it is the song that I listened to most. I’ve been toying with the idea of an original novel since around the time the album came out, and this song came on while I was plotting some of it out in my head. I really hope I end up writing it. xxi. cities in dust || everlove Your former glories and all the stories Dragged and washed with eager hands But oh, your city lies in dust, my friend I think the first time that I heard this cover it was when I discovered this mix back in 2015. It was a mix for Holland from the Darker Shade of Magic series, but I ended up going back and listening to the mix again while I was reading the third book in the series. While driving to work one day, I realized how utterly perfect it was for Dishonored, and basically compiled my mix, the salt water sting, over the course of that day.

xxii. history || monakr Oh… when they write of us in history lauded only for our victory They don't never tell, never fail to tell They don't ever tell Oh…. other side in history

So, back in the summer I read Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run, and it was absolutely fantastic. But in my humble opinion, the soundtrack that I discovered was somehow even better. I had to limit myself to only two songs from it on here, but a good half of them are on the spotify version.

xxiii. messiah || prides You don't have to lock the door I don't live there anymore.

This is the second song that I chose from that playlist, mostly because it ended up being the lucky track that had an extra play.

xxiv. i shall rise || karen o They'll know my name When they've forgotten all about you

I found this song well before I actually started regularly listening to it, and it ended up getting played around the time that I was mining for Dishonored songs for that mix, and those lyrics just called to me. Also, y’know, it’s a really great song. xxv. in the sea || ingrid michaelson No no don't rescue me I like the salt water sting

Another Dishonored song, this was obviously the song - and line - that gave me the title for the mix itself. I think I’d originally heard it as part of a Jaspis mix. xxvi. i put a spell on you || annie lennox I put a spell on you Because you're mine Okay, but this song in Annie Lennox’s smokey gorgeous voice just made me think of gay woodland witches and it was one of the best discoveries of 2017. xxvii. personal yeezus || chambaland Baby we livin' in the moment I've been a menace for the longest But I ain't finished, I'm devoted And you know it, and you know it

Okay, so let’s talk about Atomic Blonde. It wasn’t the best movie I’ve seen this year, but it appealed to a very visceral, gay part of me and ever since I saw this trailer I was basically in love. I’m sorry, but if you weren’t at least a little gay before watching Charlize Theron have a torrid love affair with Sofia Boutella while simultaneously kicking ass and taking names... you will be.

xxviii. gold | imagine dragons Statues and empires are all at your hands, Water to wine and the finest of sands. When all that you have's turning stale and it's cold, Oh, you'll no longer feel when your heart's turned to gold. I... don’t remember when I first listened to this. I think it was at work? But I saw some really good fanvids, and honestly? I should probably just admit at this point that I just love everything that Imagine Dragons comes out with.

xxix. which witch | florence & the machine Who's a heretic, child? Can you make it stick, now that I'm on trial

I am like 500% sure that I fell in love with this song because @kaikamahine said something about it, because I first started listening to it around the time that I realized Fantastic Beasts had a fandom.

xxx. thunder | imagine dragons Just a young gun with a quick fuse I was uptight, wanna let loose I was dreaming of bigger things And wanna leave my old life behind

Yeah, I just liked it. Also, there have been some really awesome Thor vids to this since Ragnarok came out.

xxxi. take me to church | hozier Offer me that deathless death Good God, let me give you my life

I wasn’t actually sure that I still listened to this often enough to add it, but last.fm tells me that it’s my fourth most played song. I mean, it’s a great song, and you can be damn sure that if in a twist of fate Hozier releases an album next year, every single one of those songs will be on the 2018 mix, but it has been a bit.

xxxii. trouble | valerie broussard Dangerously having the time of our lives These boys are just poisonous thorns in our sides Starting fires wherever we go Watching em gamble everything they own I’m just going to direct you to this animation and wail about Six of Crows a lot. Weirdly enough, I think I actually prefer the unfinished version of it. Some bits hadn’t been added yet, but I really love the grittiness of it.

xxxiii. pure feeling | florence & the machine Those strangers carry me I'm lost; they're finding me I... don’t actually remember where I found this one. It probably has to do with @kaikamahine. Either way, I have listened to it A LOT.

xxxiv. battle royale | apashe Work on 'em put a little work on 'em Trigger finger in the air I put a little dirt on 'em

This song is stupid awesome to blare while driving home from work a little fast at 2 in the morning. Also, y’know, it’s just great in general. See, Steve Rogers agrees. Also, oh my gosh, there’s a new Black Panther one.

xxxv. i may fall | casey williams There's a place where we'll stand outnumbered Where the wolves and the soulless will rise In the time of our final moments Every dream dies

So, sometime in the last few months I let my roommate talk me into watching RWBY. I’ve been less than interested in the past because I’m an animation snob and I just... couldn’t. But I marathoned the whole series in like a week. There were three songs that stood out to me, but this song is actually the one that made me finally break down and give it a chance.

xxxvi. not today | bts All the underdogs in the world A day may come when we lose But it is not today Today we fight!

SCREECHING NOISES. MORE SCREECHING NOISES. I’m sorry, but it has to have become apparent by now that my musical tastes are influenced almost entirely by fandom, but fanvids in particular. This song is the BEST pump up song that I’ve found in years.

xxxvii. is this love | the governors Did you think this was love Is love a future of your kind Don't you think I would mind If I would wasted all my time I can't love if you lie This song. Made my year. It’s dark and sexy and a little fucked up, and came around when I was in the middle of reading the Grisha Trilogy and struggling with just how hard Darklina was hitting on every single one of my kinks.

xxxviii. sweet dreams | mark hadley ft. dresage I travel the world And the seven seas, Everybody's looking for something.

This cover came out as part of the Wrinkle In Time trailer and I fell really, stupidly in love. This was actually a last minute addition, because I couldn’t stand it not being on here.

#fuck yeah fanmixes #2017 #year in music

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kpopfanfictrash · 7 years

Text

Binary Star (VII)

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: You / Jaebum / Mark

Rating: PG

Word Count: 4,270

Summary: “In some cases, these close binary systems can exchange mass, which may bring their evolution to stages that single stars cannot attain.”

You and Jaebum have been dating forever when Mark Tuan shows up in your classroom. You’ve always been against change - a bit debilitating, being a writer - but for some reason this new kid has you thinking there might be an upside to chaos.

Jaebum’s jaw tightens and he can only stare. In his look is everything you needed to know. Jaebum is scared. He doesn’t know how this will work. He feels the strain on your relationship, understands the dual demands he’ll be facing. It’s stretching you, twisting your love into something unrecognizable.

Jaebum knows. Jaebum sees.

Shaking his head, Jaebum’s eyes darken. “I’m not letting go of you,” he says, tone demanding. “That’s all I know.”

When he kisses you again, it’s with the same desperation of earlier. You don’t fight it, breaking away and letting him hold you. For tonight that’s all Jaebum can offer.

For tonight, that’s all you need.

Jaebum sits in the dressing room while the rest of the band files out. Jackson touches his shoulder before exiting, lingering for a second longer. “Listen,” he says, eyebrows scrunched together. “We don’t have to do it. Just don’t say the intro – we don’t have to…”

Ignoring this, Jaebum shakes his head. Slides even lower in his plastic chair. “No,” he says, voice empty. “The label was clear about this. The dedication needs to change.”

Jackson looks taken aback. “But Jaebum…”

Jaebum looks up. “You heard James, didn’t you? We’re supposed to be fun, friendly – the always attainable band. That’s our niche – the boys next door. The rockers you can take home to mom. We have to be humble, we have to be kind and we have to give everything to our fans.”

Jackson stares at Jaebum and slowly, his expression deflates. “You’re right.” He swallows, shaking his head as he looks away. “This is it – this is our shot, our break and the best way to get there. I just –" Jackson stops, exahling. “Well. You know better her better than I do.”

As Jackson leaves, Jaebum buries his face in both hands. Jackson is right – he knows how much you can take. The thing is, he doesn’t know if you’ll be able to take this.

The bar is dark, smoky with the dust of cigarettes and god knows what else. It’s hard to hear over the raging bass, played by a DJ in the back, right corner who looks way too into his music for his own good. Fiddling with the cup in your hand, you stare forlornly at the empty stage in front of you.

It’s about a half hour until tonight’s show. The past few weeks have been busy, what with Jaebum and the band practicing and recording and booking flights every which way. Jaebum sees you when he can and you know he’s trying – you can see it in the amount of effort he’s been putting in since your fight.

He’ll text you at morning and night, dutifully before falling sleep. More and more, Jaebum leaves school before the day is at an end. Disappearing on weekends for label visits and meetings with marketing or management. He calls you, the two of you Facetime but every night you go to bed empty, a pit in the center of your stomach where you miss the sight of him.

It’s been better, you’ll admit. But ‘better’ is never the same as before. It feels as though you’re trying and you miss the days when you didn’t even have to. Back when you called Jaebum because you wanted to, because you knew he would want to fall asleep on the phone together.

These days there’s always someone in the background. Always someone else demanding his attention and though you try to be supportive, it’s hard. Maybe you’re being the selfish one. Maybe it’s demanding to want Jaebum to put you first. But then you tell yourself no – It’s not demanding to want to be first when you’re over here, doing the same.

When you think about what the future would be like, it scares you. A future of always supporting Jaebum means you’ll always be second. His concerts, his meetings will come first. His schedule will always come first because it’ll be fixed, immovable. No matter how successful you become, no matter how important your dreams turn out to be, they’ll always be second to his. Less important since you’re not famous. There’ll be no one depending on you but you, whereas Jaebum will have his fans. Have his music, have his artistry.

These thoughts have made you write more. Fueled by the gaping uncertainty lying before you which pours words onto paper, a litany of wildfire. You want to share your writing with Mark but stop yourself. The two of you haven’t spoken since that day. After your fight with Jaebum, you sent Mark a simple text. Just one sentence, but it was enough for him to understand.

Y/N: I’m sorry, I can’t. [Sunday, 11:58 PM]

The next Monday, Mark sat in different seats in your classrooms. No longer the seat beside you, it forced you to stare at the back of his head. Losing him hurt, but not as much as the idea of losing Jaebum. No, this is what you needed to do.

Which explains why you’re sitting here alone, staring up at the stage and waiting for the lights to go down.

Maddie slides onto the stool beside you. “Hey,” she grins, breathing hard. “Sorry. Was saying hi to Jackson.”

You raise an eyebrow over the rim of your water glass. “Oh? You and Jackson have been spending an awful lot of time together lately.”

Maddie blushes, a very un-Maddie-like gesture. “Yeah, well.” She glances down at her phone. “I didn’t know he liked me.”

“He told you?” You gasp, leaning in. “Tell me everything.”

“There’s not much to tell,” Maddie grumbles, smiling as she stirs her drink. “Their band takes up so much time, we barely get to see each other. Honestly Y/N, I don’t know how you and Jaebum are doing it.” She sighs looking at the stage. “You’re made of stronger stuff than I am.”

You don’t respond, taking a sip of your drink as you’re thankfully saved from answering by the dimming lights. There’s a crowd before of you – a fact which shouldn’t be surprising, but it is. The boys are still in that state where they seem like yours, though it’s becoming quickly obvious it’s no longer true. James Manolin and his impressive marketing department have seen to that.

New people attend every show and you know the boys are almost done with the recording of their album. What happens after – who knows? You and Jaebum haven’t really discussed it. Every time you try you have no new answers. No miracle solution to keeping you together.

“We’ll make it work,” Jaebum always says.

Make it work – but how? And for how long? Everything is up in the air, the things you once considered solid crumbling away beneath you. Like Jaebum. Jaebum was always the constant in your life but he’s being pulled further and further away, through no fault of his own. At least you’re communicating better now. At least you’re finally talking about how you feel.

When the lights come back on, the band is already arranged onstage. Gone is the way they used to walk onstage, waving sheepishly at the crowd while adjusting their instruments. No, this entrance is polished, clean. The boys are wearing leather and skinny jeans while the spotlights dim from above.

“Hey,” Jaebum says, grabbing the mike with one hand. He quickly scans the crowd. “We’re On the Shore.”

Without further ado, Jackson launches into the first song. It’s upbeat, one of their new dance anthems created by Jaebum and Brian. Your foot taps to the beat and you smile, despite yourself. It’s good. Really good. The crowd seems to think so, too – dancing adamantly and you frown, noticing that they seem to be about seventy percent female. Deep down you know this is inevitable.

The boys are too attractive not to have fangirls. Too young, too attractive and too good not to garner that sort of attention. Your heartbeat races though, clenching your stomach in a way that forces you to swallow heavily. Instead of thinking about that, you look at your phone. Staring confusedly at the message Jaebum sent you right before the show.

Jaebum: Y/N, I love you. Please don’t be mad. [8:28 PM]

When you first got the message, you felt sick. Wondering what he did and with whom. Your first thought was that maybe he wanted to get back at you for liking Mark. You dismissed this thought almost immediately – revenge wasn’t like Jaebum. He wasn’t vindictive, he was unusually mature for his age – which explained how he handled the Mark situation and the band.

Though Jackson joked about them being an autonomous collective, they all knew Jaebum was their leader. The propeller behind their stroke of fortune. He pushed them, drove them. The thought of him having something to apologize for made you more than a little nauseous. If Jaebum thought something was bad – it usually was.

Thumb drifting over your phone case, you wish you had someone to talk to about this. All your normal culprits don’t feel quite right. You could tell Maddie, but then she’d tell Jackson and you don’t want Jackson to know about your problems.

You could tell Robbie, or your mom but they both love Jaebum. You don’t want them to assume things before you even know what this is. If you’re being honest with yourself, you want to talk to Mark. Mark with his kind eyes, his steady words. He would know what to do. Or rather, he’d know how to help you understand what you’re thinking.

Onstage, On the Shore is transitioning to their next song. A ballad, one which Jaebum drops the guitar for. Allowing it to fall behind his back while cupping the mike with both hands. Some of his hair falls forward as he sings and more than a few girls shriek in glee.

Closing your eyes, you rub your temple with one hand. It’s completely ruining the song – don’t they see that? Jaebum doesn’t seem perturbed, pushing on despite the yelling. The band even seems to draw strength from it, playing better than they ever have before. A new reality presents itself to you. One where this is your permanent seat in the back of the house, hidden in the shadows. Next to the other girlfriends and wives, cheering from the sidelines.

The pit in your stomach deepens.

It’s hard to concentrate for the rest of the show. You continue to glance at your phone, then up at Jaebum. Wondering what he could possibly be sorry for – though it doesn’t take long for you to find out. The last song is your favorite since it’s your song, the one Jaebum wrote for you. The one he dedicates every night. You sit up straighter, knot in your stomach slightly loosening when Jaebum starts speaking.

Touching his mike, he shakes hair from his eyes and squint into the crowd. “Thank you all for coming.” He smiles, the gesture shy. “It’s amazing you’re all here. Seeing your faces every night gives us such a thrill – it’s why we’re here, why we love to do this.” Pausing, Jaebum swallows before carrying on. “We love you. You’re our fans, you’re our inspiration for keeping going every single day.”

There are cheers and aws from the audience – they’re all transfixed by Jaebum. You’re just another one of the many, unable to keep your eyes off him. It’s like watching a train wreck, knowing something is about to go horribly, terribly wrong but unable to look away. Instead you watch as the thing transforms into a nightmare, helpless as you sit there in your frozen shell of a body.

Jaebum’s eyes flicker with something like pain. “This song is for you,” he whispers, looking down. “For the fans.”

He drops his mike as he takes a step back.

Though you don’t see, the lines of Jackson’s face tighten. Bambam looks on in confusion, scanning the audience for you. Even Brian looks surprised, gaze darting to Jaebum before stepping up to take the mike. “Yeah,” he agrees, running his hand through his hair. “Thank you to everyone coming out to support us. We owe you it all and here’s your song.”

Brian strums, repeating the chord until Jackson’s drums join in. Bambam is next, adding onto the harmony with his keyboard. Jaebum is last, turning from where he’s faced upstage to grab his discarded mike. He sings, his voice loud and clear. It soars over the bar, drawing in everyone who wasn’t before.

You sit there, frozen.

Maddie’s hand finds yours. You look down, dazed and struggling to comprehend. Staring at her as though you’re seeing for the first time. All around, your song continues to play. But no – it’s not your song anymore. It’s theirs. Theirs and Jaebum’s. Maddie’s other hand finds yours, her eyes full of concern, and somehow it’s worse than before.

Somehow your feet hit the ground. You nearly knock over the stool in your mad dash to get outside. Looking down, you see that you’ve grabbed your purse – good, good. Less reason for you to ever enter that club again. The street blurs the longer you stare and it’s then you realize that you’re crying.

Maddie’s arm slips into yours. “Come on,” she says, gentle and calm. “Let’s go home. I’ll take you home.”

You nod feebly, since Robbie was the one who drove you tonight. He said he needed the car and you thought you would just get a ride home with Jaebum. Maddie brings you to the edge of the building, clicking the lights of her red Ford sitting in the first row of the parking lot. She opens the passenger side door, setting you inside and going around front.

When she turns on the engine, you grab her arm. “Maddie,” you say, voice surprisingly clear. “Please… can you just take me to Jaebum’s?”

Maddie winces. “Is that a good idea, Y/N? You seem upset and I don’t want to make things worse.”

You let out a harsh laugh. “Worse?” Your hand falls from her elbow. “How can things get any worse?” Then, quieter, “I need to talk to him, Maddie. Tonight.”

Maddie is quiet before she nods, pulling out of the lot to drive the several minutes towards Jaebum’s house. When you reach his yard she stops, sighing and turning to face you. “Do you want me to wait?”

“No,” you say, voice dull. “No, I need to do this alone.”

Maddie is silent as you open her door, letting yourself out. You swallow hastily, turning to face her. “Thanks,” you say, attempting a smile. “Really, Maddie. I appreciate this.”

Nodding, Maddie stares sadly back at you. “Anytime, doll.”

Once the lights of her car disappear around the corner, you turn to face his home. The lights are all off and you remember vaguely that Jaebum’s dad is at a work conference. He mentioned his mom was also attending so you wander forward until you’re at his front steps. Sinking down onto them and drawing your knees into your chest. It’s kind of chilly out. You wish you had brought a heavier jacket.

You don’t know how long you sit like this. It could be minutes, could be hours, maybe its days later that Jaebum’s headlights swing into his driveway. He doesn’t turn off his car. You watch dazedly as he leaps from the driver’s side, engine running as he sprints up the walkway.

“Baby,” he gasps, equal parts furious and relieved. “Why are you here? Why weren’t you answering my texts or calls? I’ve been looking everywhere,” he exhales, and you notice that his eyes look bloodshot. “Finally I got ahold of Maddie and she said she’d dropped you off here…”

Without answering, you glance at your bag beside you. Rifling through the compartments until you realize you left your phone at the club. Alone and unanswered on that table next to an unfinished glass of water. Thinking of this makes you think of other things that happened tonight, and you push these thoughts aside.

“Why?” you manage to ask, hating how small your voice sounds. “Why did you dedicate it… to them?”

Jaebum is quiet. When you look up, he’s dropped to his knees in front of you. There’s dew here and you know the front of his jeans must be getting soaked, but Jaebum doesn’t seem to care. “I – I don’t know,” he says, then stops. “That’s not true. I did it because the label asked. They said it would be better for our image if the first single was a fan-oriented song. One about some mysterious girl, not one girl in particular.”

A bitter laugh escapes. “Oh? Is that all I am? Some girl?”

Shaking his head no, Jaebum’s hands cup your face until you turn to look at him. “No,” he says fiercely. “Never. You’re the only girl for me.”

Licking your lips, you look quickly away when the first tear falls. “That’s not true, Jaebummie,” you hiccup, using his nickname. “It hasn’t been that way for a while. You keep saying we’ll make this work.” Another tear escapes, silent and angry. “Keep saying we’ll stay together, but how? You want to follow your dreams and I’m in the way of that. Please,” you cut him off, throat tightening. “Please just admit it.”

“But.” Jaebum is seemingly at a loss for words. “Y/N… you’re my dream, too.”

Somehow your hands are in his and somehow you manage to look at him, though he’s blurry with tears. “I know,” you tell him. “You’re mine, too. But this… how can we get through this?”

The tears are really falling now, and Jaebum wraps his arms around you. Pulling you to his chest and stroking your hair.

“This is the end, isn’t it?” you ask, the words muffled against his chest.

It’s the silence which kills you. The silence, which is the last and final nail in a coffin you’ve been building for some time now. Neither of you want to see it, so you’ve ignored that it’s there. Neither of you wants to let go but it’s now become impossible to hold on.

When Jaebum pulls away, you’re surprised to see that he’s also crying. Jaebum, who never shows his feelings to anyone. “Y/N,” he manages to say. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not,” you say weakly, hands interlacing with his. “I’ll be here. I’ll always love you, Jaebum.”

This only makes him cry harder, sobs which shake his shoulders. “I really do love you, Y/N.”

“I know.”

You don’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse when Jaebum leaves six weeks later. On the Shore’s record is sent to the main agency in LA and they’re stunned, floored – ecstatic about this wonderful new band. Jaebum and the boys are flown out almost immediately, booking gigs and talk show appearances in record time. They make a YouTube channel, doing collaborations with established artists. Forming other social media accounts, ones to stave off the rabid fangirls which come with their rise to fame.

It’s so strange to watch it happen. It’s like watching a play you thought you’d be seeing from the wings, only to find yourself in the last seat of the balcony. Oddly familiar, but totally separate. For a long time, you avoid even mentioning Jaebum or the band. Despite what you said to Jaebum on the night you break up, you just can’t be there for him right now. Can’t or you’ll break apart, since you’re just barely holding it together as it is.

You try to talk to him multiple times. Giving in to his texts the first couple of times, only to delude yourself into thinking maybe you’ll get back together and then ending up heartbroken all over again. You’re not getting back together and you need to stop trying. Letting go of him hurts. It’s cutting out a part of yourself, but it’s what you have to do so you do it.

You listen to other music. Any song which doesn’t remind you of Jaebum – hard, considering he likes a lot of music. After you unfollow all his social media accounts, you stop asking questions about him to Maddie. She keeps in touch with Jackson but then, Maddie was never in love with Jackson. You were – are? – still in love with Jaebum.

The pain of missing him isn’t something you can just get over. You wish it were as easy as healing an actual wound, where you can watch the healing process and know you’re pulling yourself together. Some days it’s just as bad as the first day and you cry for weeks, every time you think of him. Reaching for your phone, typing him texts you never send. One day maybe you’ll delete them but for now they just sit there, taking up space.

Becoming withdrawn, you spend days at a time in your room. Frantically typing and channeling all your pain and anger into writing. The day you get your acceptance letter to your dream school, you cry for a different reason. It seems that’s all you do lately, but that day is the first time you cry tears of joy.

Mark is the first person you text.

Y/N: Hey, I know it’s been a while and things are weird with… well, with the whole Jaebum thing but I thought you would want to know – I got accepted. [10:04 AM]

You thought it would take him longer to respond, but it doesn’t.

Mark: that’s amazing, Y/N!! I knew you could do it [10:07 PM]

Staring down at his text in your hand, you wonder what now. It’s been so long since you’ve spoken – two months, at least. Mark didn’t have anything to do with your break up – not really – and you miss his presence in your life. Miss his friendship, miss the quiet sense of composure he gave you. The bottom line is, you could really use more friends at the moment.

Y/N: Hey, Mark [10:09 PM]

Mark: yes? [10:10 PM]

Y/N: Want to do something crazy? [10:12 PM]

You and Mark hang out more and more – not in a romantic way, but more because he seems to be the only one who understands you. You, he and Maddie become close and by the time spring rolls around, there’s a whole new group of friends. People you never would have hung out with had it been just you and Jaebum staying together. Jaebum was safe for you, Jaebum was your home – and without him, you’re forced to expand. Forced to grow, to take risks.

You find you like taking risks. Your growth is slow, but every step becomes more confident. Your strides getting longer, the time between moments when you think of him growing longer as well. Eventually the day comes where you think of Jaebum and don’t tear up. When the pain in your chest unclenches just a little and you realize there are things you care about more.

Things like your dreams, your ambition, your happiness. Things like a sunrise over the ocean, with someone who shows up at 4:00 AM. White water rafting and a hike to the top of a mountain. Or trying and horribly failing at making crème brulee.

Mark doesn’t try to be more than your friend, though sometimes you look at him and wonder if he still feels the same. Maybe it’s just a trick of the light, a certain way he has of looking at people. Sometime during the spring, you find yourself looking at him the same way.

When Mark asks you to prom, it’s so hopelessly Mark that you almost laugh. You’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, feet propped up on his dash as you flip through the book you’re reading. Mark looks over, chewing his lip. “Are you going to prom with anyone?”

Shaking your head, you don’t look up. “No one asked, shockingly enough.”

Mark doesn’t respond. Then he exhales. “Want to go with me?”

You put your book down. “I- uh. Okay,” you answer, staring at his profile.

A smile grows on his lips.

That’s the night that Mark kisses you. Outside his car after dropping you off. You laugh at something he’s said, giggling helplessly while strands of your hair fall out of your bun. Mark steps closer, pushing them away before his hand freezes. He stares silently at his fingertips, as though unable to believe he’s touching your face.

“Mark,” you say, somewhat shakily. Your hands find his waist, pushing the jacket of his tuxedo back. “Do you still… Do you?”

Instead of responding, Mark kisses you. Lips tentative at first, asking if this is okay. It is and you nod, nose brushing his while he threads hands through your hair. It’s new, it’s different and it spark a familiar emotion in your chest. It’s been too long since you felt anything like this and somehow, his body pressed to yours makes you shiver. He awakens hope, breathing new life into your future.

Slamming the trunk of your car, Mark dusts off his hands and squints. “Come on Y/N,” he grins. “We’re going to be late.”

“But what if I forget something?” you ask, relaxing when he comes up behind you. Wrapping both arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “Well, I didn’t forget that,” you grumble.”

Mark laughs. “With all your list making?” he grins, turning you to face him. “Slim chance.”

“Ah, you’re right.” You stare past him, to your house. “It just – it doesn’t seem real, you know?”

“I know.” Mark is quiet, fingers brushing against the edge of your shirt. “It will be amazing. College will be amazing. A whole new adventure – just for you.”

“And you,” you remind him, laughing lightly. “We’re going to the same college, don’t forget.”

Mark shrugs. “True. I have a feeling though – call it premonition or whatever you want – but I have a feeling that your journey is just beginning.”

Humming in agreement, you lean closer. “It’s funny,” you muse, turning your gaze to his. “There was a point in my life where that would have scared me.”

“And now?”

“And now,” you smile, lacing your hand in his. “I can’t wait.”

[Master List]

Author’s Note: There is an Epilogue! <3

Playlist: The Other, Lauv; Break a Little, Kristin; Foreigner’s God, Hozier; Coffins, Misterwives; Incomplete, James Bay; Little Things, One Direction; Lost Stars, Keira Knightley; Nicest Thing, Kate Nash; Pricked, Winner; Holic, Def.

#kWritersNet #noonanet #mark tuan fanficiton #jaebum fanfiction #got7 fanfiction #mark tuan angst #jaebum angst #got7 angst #mark tuan #jaebum #got7 jb #jb #got7 #got7 mark #mark tuan scenarios #jaebum scenarios #got7 scenarios #markbum

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strifelockhart · 7 years

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Thank you very much for listing the fan service SE has done for CloTi fans. It did make me smile. However, I'm struggling to find official quotes and writings that support CloTi without them being interpreted as signs of mere friendship and nothing else. A lot of Cleriths tend to twist the quotes around to disprove CloTi and it really annoys me when they say that Cloud and Tifa are only friends or at least a one sided, unrequited love. Do you have any essays that analyzes CloTi with canon proof?

I think both sides will twist each other’s *proof* to mean something platonic. It all depends on you, the viewer. What you view romantic may come across as merely friendship to another person.

I haven’t written an essay for Cloti in a LONG time, but I will put some old ones that have analyzed a few quotes under the cut for you.

The Lifestream scene shared between Cloud and Tifa for so many reasons. I don’t know where to start but I’ve been thinking of writing something about this scene for some time. Sorry if it comes out jumbled, but this scene gives me so many feelings, especially CT feelings! "Tender feelings… a secret no one can know…" This always came across to me as tender feelings for Tifa, and it was a secret for obvious reasons. He felt like a stranger to her group of friends and got into fights often, he wanted to impress her and he cared for her. This particular line is a huge point towards the CT pairing right here in Cloud’s thoughts. Just before this scene occurs the nurse watching over Cloud mentions how strong Tifa’s love for Cloud is, how she says Tifa must really love him. At this point Tifa says “nothing else matters now. Only Cloud.” I don’t understand when people say things like Tifa knew Cloud loved Aerith and she supported them being together when she shows her love for him this strongly, stays by him, continues to confide in him, and pursue him - and express her feelings. Even the NPC characters seem to acknowledge her care and attention and often express to Cloud that he’d better take care of her.Now some people think this is just a ‘glitch’ or it didn’t really happen because it’s unclear in the game, but at the end of this scene Cloud and Tifa float out of the lifestream and appear to be holding hands. As far as I know there’s been nothing to confirm or deny this but… That’s what it always looked like to me and that’s been a ‘headcanon’ I guess since then.I think this scene shows that both Tifa and Cloud had their share of hidden feelings and confusion about their past but during this scene they bare it all to one another and come to realize everything about one another. Cloud says nothing has changed from the past - and Cloud loved Tifa in the past. When he says nothing has changed, he’s basically saying that his feelings haven’t changed either. At least that’s my impression. Thinking about it, there’s no reason for his feelings for Tifa to have changed. He was gone with Zack for four years and he woke up the same guy (changed only from geostigma and Zack’s death). Why would his feelings for Tifa have changed at all? There’s literally no reason.Tifa was the only one that was able to get inside of Cloud’s subconscious mind as well as his heart during this part of the game. If she hadn’t saved his life during this time, his mind would be lost forever - he could have even possibly died. He’d never discover the truth about himself or the truth about his feelings. Furthermore he’d never come to realize that Tifa missed him and genuinely cared for him as kids. When Tifa reveals this to Cloud’s subconscious, it’s revealed that Cloud will be ” so happy” to know this.I hate when people say that Tifa was mean/bullied Cloud as a child ! She never did. It was Cloud who got into fights with others, but she had no part in it. Because Cloud never expressed himself to Tifa, she had no clue how badly he wanted her to notice up until this point. It drives me crazy that people say that Tifa is spoiled and mean as a child and that Cloud was no one special to her. When she genuinely cared and looked for him in the papers, where she dressed up for his return, where she called him her blonde knight, and where in the future four years later she still has not gotten over her feelings for him. A lot of people say yes, Tifa wanted the hero and Cloud is not the ideal hero… but as a grown woman she shows continuously that Cloud is the person she loves for who he is and has become. I don’t understand how that’s hard to understand~

A response to fans saying Cloti is an abusive relationship:

Tifa was like an idol for me… when I was very young. I think I was around the age of nine when I first played Final Fantasy VII. To be honest before I picked up the game, I liked Aerith a great deal more. I was under the impression she was Cloud’s love interest, and I liked her cute design. However things changed almost instantly when I started the game. Tifa is a kind hearted character that places the blame for things that are not her fault, upon herself. She is always willing to humble herself, and step down when it comes to her emotions. It’s a beautiful flaw but it’s also an admirable trait at the same time. Tifa is so humbling that she would keep her feelings for Cloud to herself when Aerith asks about it. She would blame the deaths of her friends on herself even though she had nothing to do with it. She is also very Motherly. She knows how to take care of children, her friends, Cloud, but she never seems to have much time for herself - that’s how selfless she is. I always wanted to be as selfless, brave, and strong like Tifa was when I played the game as a kid. She does have flaws though. Yeah, she gets jealous. I relate to that so much. And there’s nothing wrong with getting jealous, either. Everyone gets jealous at one point in time in their lives. She may not have noticed Cloud as much as she should have as a kid, but she felt bad for it once she knew how he felt. The part of the game where Tifa enters Cloud’s subconscious is one of the most impacting parts for me - you get to see just how much of Cloud’s heart and mind revolve around her and how only Tifa is the one able to get this close to Cloud. It’s stated that only Tifa could do this job - it even made Aerith herself jealous (if you read MoTP). Cloud wanted to impress Tifa and get her to notice while in the mean time Tifa genuinely cared for him. Cloud never knew how much. Once he left, she missed him and searched for news about him and waited for him. I get so irritated when people say that she only cared because she thought he was going to be “the perfect hero”. Clearly, Cloud is not what she imagined as a child. Did that stop her from loving him? No. Did that change her view about him? NO. Did she expect him to be perfect? Nope. During the ENTIRE game Tifa supports Cloud no matter what his decisions are. She never forces him to do anything he doesn’t want to do, often times she is the guiding hand that helps him. In fact, Cloud says that her opinion matters the most, thanks her above all else (including Aerith), AND when Cloud becomes mako poisoned she risks her life by staying with him. She even says that “Nothing else matters now, just Cloud”. How is that being selfish? How is that her projecting her ideals as a kid onto the present Cloud? It’s not - she’s a grown woman by now… one with a most massive heart. People also often get on Tifa’s case for ‘nagging’ Cloud during Advent Children. Even though the creators of this film tell us she is doing the exact opposite, and I happen to agree with them. Tifa is giving Cloud a wake up call. She isn’t telling him what to think or how to act, but she’s giving him the push he needs in the right direction so he can come to the realization himself. I also think that because Cloud and Tifa are both introverted, they understand one another on a higher level. And yes there have been fights between them. But they over came those obstacles and became even closer because of it. People seem to think that because they fight, they’re not a good match. Couples come across disagreements all the time - the fact that Cloud still lives with her and wants her by his side obviously shows that he cares for her deeply.I hate this idea people have that turn Cloud into a ‘victim’ of Tifa. :/ Cloud is not a fucking victim, he’s a dude that has got a lot of problems on his plate and he often acts foolishly because of them. With out the support of all his friends, especially Tifa (the woman who understands him the most mind you) he would not have survived anything. In fact if Tifa hadn’t saved him from losing his mind, there would not even BE an Advent Children.

KEYWORD Cloud and TifaCloud and Tifa are childhood friends, both born in Nibelheim. When Cloud leaves the village, he calls Tifa out to the water tower and promises that he will become a SOLDIER. At the same time, he is also made by Tifa to promise that he will come to rescue her if she is ever in trouble.Following this, the pair experience many hardships, such as the Nibelheim incident which also appears in CC, and the Jenova War in FFVII, and through these the distance between them shortens. And in AC they live together, with Barret's daughter Marlene and a boy named Denzel. Though there was also a period later where Cloud lived away from them after having contracted Geostigma, they finally reach a commune with each over and return to living together once again. In DC, they rush together to Vincent's aid, in his battle against Deep Ground SOLDIER.I know there's that whole, "neutral" concept that Cloud's single, but I dunno. It's really hard to see that when this is how SE describes the two. That they are a keyword TOGETHER. It's oh so very important to emphasize over and over the togetherness of Cloud and Tifa... I wonder why? XP

The promise with a childhood friendBefore leaving Nibelheim, Cloud declared that “I’ll be a SOLDIER” to a village girl, Tifa, whom he dimly fell in love with, and made a promise to protect her. Such pompous declare turns out to be failed—considering this, Cloud conceals his identity and cold sweat under his helmet when he confronts his hometown.Text near the img:Before the Reactor, Cloud conceals his identity and tries to protect Tifa.

Not only does this show that Cloud did indeed, fall in LOVE with Tifa. The reason why I think they chose the word dimly right here, is because this is the past and Cloud didn't get many chances to speak to Tifa and get to know her. That "dim" love begins to build more and more, as seen in FFVII and AC. Also, Cloud didn't know Tifa's feelings for him, which is also why it could be considered "dim". Dim as in "needs light shed on" it. . . and the light was kindly given. I think that Cloud really did like her. I don't know how they can refer to it as "dimly", besides due to the fact that he didn't really know her that well. Because in CC, when Cloud is with Zack after the reactor incident, Zack keeps asking Cloud about Tifa, and Cloud just keeps looking sad and depressed. It seems like Cloud feels like he failed or something. D: And, Zack tells Cloud not to worry, because Tifa is alright. :]As far as VII goes--- well, it really is deabateable. Cloud obviously wanted to impress her for a reason. And that was because he liked her, hence the crush. Sure, he wanted to be accepted and noticed, but not just by every-one. Tifa is the one he wanted to be noticed by the most. He wanted to be accepted, so that even Tifa would have to notice him. Now, to me that seems like he desires her attention, not because he wants to be accepted. Being accepted was just an obstacle he felt he needed to over-come on the way to getting Tifa to like him. That's what I think, anyway. Tifa came to him that night, and they made a promise, and despite what most Cleris fans think, I found it rather deep and magical, and from there on, it only shows that Cloud and Tifa are dedicated to one another. Tifa suddenly started missing Cloud... wondering how he was doing. Cloud didn't want to be a failure in Tifa's eyes... he wanted to keep her promise. If he didn't care about her, he wouldn't have bothered trying so hard to make HER proud.Of course, Tifa doesn't expect so much of Cloud like he seems to think. Good thing the lifestream scene clears up their "shady" past.

Here’s a gathering of quotes from Case of Tifa with small reactions:

Meanwhile, Cloud was sitting next to her gazing at the same scenery, but he was smiling peacefully. It was a smile that she hadn't seen before during their journey. Cloud noticed her gaze and asked, "What's wrong?" "Cloud, you're smiling." "I am?" "Yeah." "Everything starts now. A new..." Cloud looked for the right words, "A new life." "I'm going to live. I think that's the only way I can be forgiven. We've been through... all sorts of things." "I guess you're right..." "But when I think about how many times I've thought about starting a new life, it's funny." "Why?" "I've always failed to do it." "That's not funny." "...I think it will be all right this time." Cloud became very quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Because you're with me." "But I've always been with you." "That's how it will be starting from tomorrow," Cloud replied smiling again.Ahh. A very fine quote if I do say so myself. :] What is there that I can say? Cloti.Quote:Tifa went to see Aerith together with her companions. Aerith, who was now at the bottom of the Forgotten City's spring. The world she wanted to save in exchange for her life would surely be all right now. That's what they were told. Tifa heard a voice asking if she was all right. She didn't know if it was Aerith's voice or her own. She couldn't help it but started crying. Right after Sephiroth took Aerith's life, Tifa felt no grief towards her death. There was sadness but that sadness was made into more anger and hatred she had towards the enemy. At least now she understood the sadness and pain she felt, tearing her heart apart as she visited the place. Being a member of AVALANCHE and being with a large group of people gave her these feelings. The tears wouldn't stop. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." She felt Cloud's hand on her shoulder. He held onto her firmly so that she wouldn't go anywhere. For now, she was just going to let herself cry as much as she felt like. Then she was going to leave the rest to him. Alone, she just didn't know what she could do.First of all, this shows Tifa's selfless-ness and her caring for Aerith a friend. :] It also shows, how Cloud can comfort and be there for Tifa. How he can allow her to just cry in his arms and they can share the pain of something together, and work through it together.Quote:"I shouldn't have come, " said Cloud. "It draws me back to the past." Cloud's words spoke out for the way Tifa felt too. Sharing feelings. Quote:"Where to?" Barret asked. "Our suspended reality." "What the hell do you mean by that?" "Our normal lives." "And where do we have something like that?" "We'll find one." Cloud looked at Tifa and said, "Right?" "Yeah!" cried the cheerful Marlene. Tifa too nodded, but just like Barret, she wondered where they had a normal life. I think it's interesting, that Cloud goes to Tifa for reassurance. Don't you? ;]Quote:When Tifa and Cloud were alone, Cloud said to her, "It's not like you to be troubled by your thoughts." "It's... Just the way I am." "No. You're much more cheerful and strong. If you've forgotten the way you were then, I'll be there to remind you." "You really will?" "Probably," Cloud said, blushing.This shows more than anything that not only does Tifa understand Cloud, but Cloud also understands Tifa. He knows she's down at this moment, and he's trying to cheer her up. The kind that shows your affection towards another person.What I think Cloud is saying most of all here, is if Tifa forgets how to be happy, Cloud will be there to remind her. To make her happy. Quote:Tifa and Cloud sipped their wine slowly. Barret was drinking so much that you could probably bathe in the amount he drank. He looked like he was enjoying it as he talked about his memories of the peaceful times. Drunk, he fell into a well. It's been a long time since Tifa and Cloud burst out laughing.Quote:"Aerith didn't bring Denzel to you." "Yeah, that's what I thought too." "Aerith brought that child to us, didn't she?" Cloud gazed at Tifa and finally smiled. It had that kindness that made her think everything was all right.

Confirmation of Cloud accepting that Aerith brought Denzel not only to him, but to Tifa as well.

#replied #cloti #Anonymous

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snickerl · 7 years

Text

Elixir Vitae

AU fanfic set around the time of IWTB.

A/N: This chapter got a bit out of hand. I cut the previous chapter in two because I didn’t want it to exceed 4000 words. Now this chapter alone exceeds more than 5000 words because I just couldn’t stop writing.

Find previous chapters here: Chapter I / Chapter II / Chapter III / Chapter IV / Chapter V / Chapter VI

Chapter VII

“Tell me about our son, Fox!”

No! Please, no!

It’s Sunday morning and we’re sitting at the breakfast table. I’m buried in the paper and she’s been leafing through a magazine until now. I noticed her mind was elsewhere, but I had no idea where it was. She’s brutally yanked out of my current state of Sunday morning bliss with her question.

She must feel my reluctance to answer her because she insists, “you once promised me you’d tell me the whole story.” As if she senses my agony, or maybe the fact that my face has turned to stone betrays me.

“I know I promised, but I wished you wouldn’t ask me to keep my promise.”

Look outside, Scully! It’s Sunday morning, the sun is shining, a wonderful day is ahead of us.

I thought I could take her to the little flea market downtown. She loves strolling past the various sales counters searching for a little something to decorate our house with. We could have one of those wonderful homemade ice cream cones from that infamous Italian parlor on Main Street; strawberry cheesecake for her, double chocolate chip for me. We could walk hand in hand through the park. We don’t have to talk, just enjoy each other’s presence.

Please, have mercy on me, Scully! Don’t make me tell you the saddest story of your life. Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. Next week? … Ever?

“You said he lived. Why doesn’t he live with us?”

Oh, how I wished he was sitting with us right now, stuffing pancakes into his mouth, babbling about his latest Lego construction or pleading with us for the umpteenth time to get a dog. I wished there was a bike carelessly thrown somewhere in the front yard, neglected by a seven-year-old. I wished the upstairs spare bedroom was furnished for a boy to live in, stuffed with books and toys, all messy, with a bunk bed for his best buddy to sleep over. I wished we had appointments to make with teachers to discuss his scholar merits and with pediatricians to give him flu shots.

To be consciously missing all this hurts so damn badly, she’s got no idea how lucky she is to have no remembrance of what it’s like to have lost a son. I know I’m being unfair. She must feel the hole in her heart, the void William left behind. She just can’t quite explain it, and her scientist’s mind longs for answers. I understand she can’t go on forever without knowing, but does it really have to be today?

“It’s a long story,” I hear myself say.

“I don’t need the whole story, I just want to know more about my son than his name. How old is he?”

I knew my hope that I’d be allowed to leave it at that had been futile. I take a deep breath before I finally answer, each word feeling like a stab in my heart.

“He turned seven not long ago.”

“Why isn’t he living with us? Is it because of me? Because of the amnesia? Do the authorities think I can’t take care of a child because of it?”

“No. Your amnesia has nothing to do with it.”

“Did they take him from us because we were FBI agents, because our jobs were too dangerous for us to be caring for a child?”

“No. He wasn’t taken from us.”

“He wasn’t taken from us? You mean…you mean we gave him up?”

The total disbelief in her voice almost kills me.

Don’t do this to me, Scully, please! Don’t make me tell you what happened to William!

I look into her big, questioning eyes and I see how she longs for answers, but sometimes it’s better not to know the answer to every question.

“Fox! Talk to me! I have a right to know!”

My tongue feels thick and heavy and my mouth is so dry it sticks to my palate. I’m not sure I’ll be able to get a single word out, although she’s absolutely right. She has every right to know, and I’d have to tell her sooner or later anyway, so why not get it over and done with?

My stomach churns because the story has the potential to devastate her. I’m trying desperately to think of a way to break it gently to her, but my brain is not cooperating. I’m coming to the conclusion that the best I can do is to be straightforward and clear, to save her from any misunderstanding. Therefore I supply before my courage deserts me, “you gave him up for adoption before he turned one.”

As was expected, the information knocks her off balance. I can literally see the color disappearing from her face and the air leaving her lungs. Her mouth falls open and her eyes widen in shock.

“What…did I do?” she whispers, although I’m quite sure she understood me very well.

“You had no other choice, Scully,” I’m trying to explain but the words don’t reach her.

“I gave my son up for adoption? I? You didn’t say ‘we’, you said 'you’! What kind of a mother was I to give my child away?”

I have to intervene before she talks herself into something that has nothing to do with the truth. This woman knows nothing about what led her to that terrible moment in her life, of course, she’s jumping to conclusions.

“Scully, listen! Things were very complicated back then. There’s so much I have to explain to you about the circumstances.”

“What’s there to explain? Mothers give their children up for adoption when they can’t…or when they don’t want to care for them. Or when they hadn’t wanted to have them in the first place, when they want to get rid of them.”

“Stop it! Now! None of this applied in William’s case, now shut up and let me explain, will ya?”

But she’s not listening. My harsh words don’t even make her flinch. She buries her face in her hands and starts crying violently. Her shoulders are shaking with every sob that escapes her chest.

This went so awfully wrong! I can’t believe I haven’t thought about how to do this properly, how to spare her those wrong conclusions.

I get up from my chair, kneel beside her and peel her hands off her face before I appeal, “Scully, please listen to me! Listen carefully! I’m going to need some time to explain everything to you, but there’s one thing I want you to understand right away: you weren’t a bad mother. The complete opposite is true. You were the best mother William could have, and you’re not to blame whatsoever for what happened to him. Would you please take that fact for granted? Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t understand,” she whispers.

“Then let me explain. Let me explain how much you loved that child, what he meant to you, and that giving him up was a selfless sacrifice on your behalf and not a sign of you lacking motherly love.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” she sobs, her voice shockingly thin.

“No, I don’t. William was a miracle. God, where am I to begin?”

She looks down at me, and I’m dumbfounded for a moment because I have to look up to meet her eyes. Usually, it’s the other way around. It’s not easy for me to keep my own emotions under control and I curse myself once again for not having made a plan about how to explain this to her. At least, I managed to pull her out of her self-loathing mode. She seems willing to listen to me. She wipes the tears off her face with her hands, straightens her back, tucks some loose strands of hair behind her ear, and looks at me expectantly.

I have to stand up because my knees are aching; I’m not in my twenties anymore. I motion for her to join me on the couch. I don’t want to sit opposite her as if in an interrogation. I want to put my arm around her shoulder and hold her when I tell her. I’m glad she follows me willingly. But when we’re seated, she pulls her knees to her chest and embraces them, like to shield herself from what she’s going to hear. I let her, although I’d prefer more physical closeness. She’s not ready for it, apparently.

She picks up my last line, saying somewhat defiantly, “every new life is a miracle of nature.”

“In our case, it was so much more than that.” I brace myself for her reaction before telling her, “you had been diagnosed with POF.”

The doctor in her instantly understands. “Premature Ovarian Failure? At the age of…uh, how old am I?”

“You’re 43 now.”

“So I was 36 when he was born. When was I diagnosed with POF?”

“A few years earlier.”

“Well, that was definitely premature. I take it we resorted to reproductive medicine.”

She’s fully in doctor’s mode now, and somehow I’m glad because it leaves her detached and less emotional. But we’ll get back to the emotional part, I’m quite sure of it.

I nod. “In vitro. But it didn’t take it.”

I’m not going to tell her that we weren’t together at the time, that she’d asked me as a friend to be her sperm donor and not as her spouse to father her child.

“What did we try then? Gestational surrogacy? Which would mean I didn’t give birth to him, but I found some faint stretch marks on my body. I must have been pregnant at least once in my life.”

“We did not try any kind of surrogacy. And two times yes, you carried him and you gave birth to him. He’s our child. We eventually made him the old-fashioned way.”

“The old-fashioned way? How?”

“You’re a doctor, you know how babies are made.”

Stupid, Mulder! You’re so stupid!

This is not the time for a light banter, and sure enough, she narrows her eyes and shoots warning looks at me.

“You aren’t taking this to a joking level, are you?”

“No! No, I’m sorry.”

“I do know how babies are made, and I can imagine we had intercourse as a married couple, but how come I conceived? If I had POF, I was barren. Without a donated and artificially inseminated egg, there was no chance for a pregnancy.”

'No lies,’ I hear Dr. Pratt whisper into my ear. 'Never bend the truth to cover up something, never let her draw conclusions that are at odds with the truth. You have to be absolutely honest when you talk to her about her past. What seems to be a comfortable loophole at a certain moment will come back to you as a wrecking ball to your relationship when she finds out you were untrue. She’ll find it hard to trust you again. She might never be able to. So, no matter how difficult it is for you, no matter how painful it is for her, tell her the truth. Always.’

“We weren’t married.”

I inhale deeply and hold my breath.

“O-kay. That surprises me a bit, but hey, a lot of couples nowadays choose not to marry.”

“We weren’t even a couple. Not in the proper sense of the term.”

“Not in the proper sense of the term? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Goddamnit, Scully, it was so complicated! We…were so complicated. Nothing was ever easy for us. I don’t know how to explain this to you.”

“For heaven’s sake, Fox, try!”

Okay, I guess now is the time to stop beating around the bush. I need to be very clear on this. “I loved you. And you loved me. But we weren’t involved. Physically involved, I mean. We were like…like…platonic lovers.”

“Well, not so platonic after all if I got pregnant the old-fashioned way.” She draws invisible quotation marks in the air and sounds a little annoyed. She grimaces at her own lame joke, her expression freezes the very next second, though. “Are you not the father? Have I-”

“No,” I interrupt her, “you haven’t! Absolutely not! Jesus, why do you get it all wrong?”

“Because you’re only giving me bits and pieces here! Incoherent, contradicting information that doesn’t make a reasonable whole!”

She jolts up from the couch, taking one of the cushions with her and holding it in front of her chest now, subconsciously shielding her heart. Only that a cushion can’t save the heart from emotional pain.

“I’ve had enough of this!” She’s almost yelling at me. “This is so confusing! I don’t know what to make of all of this. I need some time to sort this out.”

“No!” I grab her sleeve to keep her from leaving. “Please, Scully! You’d be making up countless theories in your head and none of it would be even close to the truth because our lives back then were so out of the ordinary. Give me ten minutes to explain. Please. Just ten minutes.”

She’s standing still for a moment, her back turned toward me. I can tell she’s struggling with herself about what to do.

“Ten minutes. That’s all I’m asking for, and I promise you’ll be wiser afterward.”

She turns around slowly and meets my eyes, hers watery. I’m not sure whether because she’s anxious or sad, or maybe just because she’s angry with me for having been so cryptical so far.

“Promise to tell me the truth,” she demands.

“I promise!” I let go of her sleeve and motion for her to sit next to me again.

She inhales deeply, then places herself on the couch, further away from me this time. Her knees are up again, offering her chin a place to rest on. I don’t know why she needs that distance between us, why she can’t look at me as I speak.

I take a deep, calming inhale of breath myself and start telling her about what led her to the point of giving William up for adoption. Of course, it had to be a short version, otherwise, I wouldn’t be talking for ten minutes but ten hours straight, or maybe ten days even.

She shows no reaction, simply takes all the information in, as if she was listening to a lecture at college. She lets me talk, she’s not interrupting me with questions or demanding I clarify things. I’m not even sure she’s really listening. I pause for a moment to incite some kind of reaction; a movement, a sigh, a word. Nothing. So I conclude my narration.

“We’d unmasked a government conspiracy leading directly to the Bureau with some of our direct superiors being involved. We’d exposed ourselves, Scully. We were abducted, misled, threatened, harmed in many ways, but we never gave up. We couldn’t let those sons of bitches get through with their vile intentions. What used to be my quest had become yours too, and you chose not to leave my side although you had the chance. But when William was born, the stakes were too high. You’d become a mother, Scully, and you had to protect your son. The decision you’d once made for yourself, to put your life on the line for me, couldn’t apply to him. For you, there was no way out anymore, but there was one for William. That’s why you gave him up. The adoption was his one-way ticket away from the omnipresent danger our lives would’ve held for him. That’s it.”

That’s it.

I swallow.

She’s still not moving, isn’t saying anything. She just closes her eyes and a tear rolls down her cheek. I’d like to brush it away but I fear to wake her from her trance-like state and startle her. I have no idea what’s going on in her mind. Does it make any sense to her? Does she think this is all too crazy to be true? Does she remember any of it?

She’s still staring straight ahead, avoiding my eyes, when she speaks eventually. “I couldn’t protect my son.”

Although she heard a lot of reasons why she had to do what she did, that her motives had been beyond all blame, she narrows it down to a point where she’s accusing herself. I know that regardless of what I tell her, she’ll feel guilty. I try anyway.

“Nobody could. Not without denying him a normal life, and that’s what you wanted him to have.”

“You never blamed me for what I’d done?”

“Never.”

“Not even a tiny bit? Secretly?”

“No.”

“You promised to tell me the truth,” she reminds me.

“I am telling you the truth.”

She looks at me with her clear blue eyes, her face unreadable. To my complete surprise, she folds her knees away, leans in and places a gentle peck on my cheek, breathing a soft 'thank you’ in my ear.

“You don’t have to thank me. I owed you the truth.”

“I meant for not casting a stone at me.”

“I was in no position to do that. I would’ve wanted to do the same for him, I only doubt I would’ve had the courage and the strength.”

“That’s why I felt my heart was heavy when you first mentioned his name. I sensed there was a sad story behind it although I couldn’t remember it.”

“It was a shattering, life-altering experience for you, Scully. It’s been branded into your soul, even if you don’t have any access to it at the moment.”

“Probably.”

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I need some time to let it all sink in, though.”

“Take as much time as you need. I’ll be right here whenever you have more questions.”

“Do we some pictures of him? Anything that reminds us of him?”

“Yes. Would you like to see them?”

She nods.

I rise from the couch and cast her a smile.

“Why don’t you make us a pot of tea and I go and fetch what we have.”

There’s a box in the attic. It’s shoved into the rearmost corner, so that we don’t stumble over it every time we pick up something from up there, like the deck chairs in the spring or the Christmas decoration in the winter.

It doesn’t take long for me to find it, although it’s just a usual cardboard box like many others up here, unlabeled and hidden behind a pile of spare tires. I know exactly where it is because unlike Scully I’ve had a look at it from time to time. When she was in the hospital on a double shift, for example, or away for the weekend with her mother. At moments like those, when I felt lonely and my mind wasn’t distracted enough, hence it kept wandering around until it made its way up to where that box was located.

When I return to the living room, the teapot sits on a warmer. Instead of mugs, she put two teacups on the table, along with honey and some milk.

I place the box in the middle of the coffee table.

“It’s small,” she notices.

“Yeah, well, I guess keeping more things wouldn’t have made it any easier.”

We sit for a moment side by side staring at the box like deer caught in the headlights, then she pulls it on her lap and opens it.

I don’t have to look in there to know what’s inside. The only things that remain from our son are the blanket he was wrapped in after he was born, a onesie with a baby giraffe on it, a pacifier, a baby rattle, a piece of paper with imprints of his tiny hands and feet in blue ink, a few pictures, eight, to be precise, and a copy of his birth certificate.

It took me a long time to figure out why she made a copy of it. I guess she wasn’t supposed to because of the adoption being a closed one, but she did anyway. She needed proof that all of it had really happened. The span of this baby’s presence in our lives was so short. In mine, it was just for as long as the blink of an eye. One moment, he made a miraculous entrance into my existence, the very next he was gone. Scully, being prone to relying on hard data as a scientist, kept the written document as a piece of evidence. Not so much for the outside world, but for herself. Although I’m not sure she’s ever looked at it after she handed off the original to the social worker at the adoption agency.

I know I’m not mentioned as the father. The space on the certificate where the father’s name is usually put is blank. Scully and I agreed that it was better this way. Safer. Little did we know that this particular safety measure along with all the others wouldn’t protect him enough. Now I wished my name was on that birth certificate, for the same reasons Scully kept the copy.

The first thing she pulls out of William’s commemorative cardboard box is his onesie. It’s the one I sent her through tortuous paths when he was half a year old and I was separated from my family, having to hide to keep them safe. She puts the garment to her cheek.

“It doesn’t smell like him anymore,” I say. I can almost feel the sensation on my own skin for all the times I’d done that, too, hoping to connect with him somehow. But other than the softness of the fabric there is nothing there.

“Has it been washed?” she asks.

“Probably not. I guess the smell has just faded. It’s been more than six years, Scully.”

“Sure,” she sighs.

One after the other, she takes the other items out of the box. She smiles at the hand and footprints, unfolds the baby blanket, and furrows her brows at the birth certificate. She looks at the pacifier and the rattle, maybe trying to picture herself calming a baby boy with them. She sets all the things on the coffee table next to the teapot without a word. She then retrieves the envelope containing the pictures we have of our son, all eight of them.

I don’t know why there are only so few. Maybe she didn’t take so many, maybe she threw them away in agony after he was gone, but most likely she deliberately chose the few she kept, each one marking a special moment.

There’s the one of us three, the only one of us three, a few days after he was born. Frohike took it in Scully’s apartment. William had just been nursed and fallen asleep in his mother’s arms. I’m sitting next to Scully in that picture, my arm around her shoulder. She’s beaming into the camera and I’m flashing a somewhat goofy grin. There’s an inscription on the back in Scully’s hand. It says, 'We’re parents!’

Without looking at the back, she holds the picture out to me. “We look happy.”

“We were happy, Scully. Very happy,” I answer and my voice almost deserts me.

There’s a photograph of William in his crib, the crib Scully and her siblings had spent their first months in, showing a toothless smile. On the back she’d written, 'our baby in the family crib’.

There’s one she took of me while I was sleeping on the couch with William resting on my chest, looking at Scully as if he wanted to say, 'look, mommy, daddy passed out’. When I’d first read what’s on the back, 'my two men’, my heart bled even more than when I was looking at the picture itself. The words still have that effect on me.

There’s a picture with just the word 'grandma’ on the back. It shows a smiling Margaret with William on her lap, feeding him a bottle.

“How did my mother take it?”

“She needed some time to get over it,” I tell her. Scully had never told me about the many discussions she had with her mother, arguments even, but Maggie had. “You should talk to her about it one day. When you’re ready. She can tell you much more about him than I can. She babysat him quite a lot.”

The remaining four pictures are only of him.

William sitting on a blanket on the floor with the rattle in his mouth. The back reads, 'bothered by his first tooth’. William in his high chair, carrot mash smeared all over his face. The back reads, 'having fun with the first solid food’. William on all fours, crawling towards the photographer, his face beaming. The back reads, 'getting ready to conquer the world’.

And then there’s the last one. It shows William in a jacket and a funny hat, buckled up in his car seat. It’s slightly out of focus as if taken in a rush. It’s the only one without anything written on the back. Even without any explanation, I have an idea of what I see in this picture.

Scully’s eyes are glued to it now. Then she looks at the others again, one by one. It must strike her how different that one is. Eventually, she speaks out loud what I never dared to ask her about.

“This is the last picture we have of him.”

I only nod.

“We don’t know what he looks like today, where he lives, who his parents are.”

These are no questions, just findings from her assessing everything she’s heard about William’s adoption from me today.

“Is there any chance for us to get in touch with him?”

I shake my head no.

“To find out his whereabouts or how he’s doing?”

Again, I have to shake my head.

“Can he get in touch with us? If he wants to, maybe when he’s a teenager? In puberty, adoptive children often develop a longing to learn everything about their biological roots.”

“No,” I answer, “it’s been a closed adoption. All information is sealed. It had to be done this way to keep him safe.”

I’m not telling her that there is a person who knows. Skinner. He knows the name of the couple who adopted William and he knows where they live. Our former boss keeps an eye on our son, just to make sure the forces Scully tried to protect him from haven’t tracked him down after all. It’s calming for me to know Skinner’s looking out for him, but it’s also a constant temptation to pry the secret information out of him. I wonder if I will ever hold him at gunpoint, yelling at him to tell me where William is.

“So we will never see our son again.” Scully sighs heavily. “We know nothing about him and never will.”

There’s nothing further for me to say.

We sit in silence for a long time and sip our tea. She looks okay, a bit exhausted maybe, but not devastated or broken.

“Thank you for telling me everything.”

“I promised.”

“Yes, you promised, but still, it must have been difficult for you. He’s your son, too, and you lost him. I understand now why you wanted to keep it from me when I first asked you about him. I hadn’t been stable enough at the time to deal with it. Thank you for taking such good care of me, Fox.”

Despite her frequent use of my first name in the past months, I’m simply not getting used to it. It has, and it will continue doing so, a weird ring.

Scully, it’s me, Mulder!

“You’ve always been my favorite patient, Scully,” I say and make her laugh.

She places the box on her lap and puts the William memorabilia back in, piece by piece, very carefully and gently. She sets the box on the coffee table and puts the lid back on.

“What do you say we keep it down here from now on instead of hiding it in the attic? Maybe not here in the living room, but how about our bedroom closet?”

“I like the idea.”

I really like the idea. I love it actually. Maybe we’ve just taken a huge step toward dealing together with the loss of William. Maybe it’s going to be one good thing this damn amnesia brings along in its wake. If we stop trying to cope with it separately, if we start sharing our grief and our guilt feeling, maybe then we’ll be able to halt the downward spiral we’d definitely been on before Scully was taken. We’d been drifting away from each other, slowly but gradually, each of us alone in trying to come to terms with the emptiness our son left behind. I felt it but I couldn’t do anything against it. If this is meant to be the onset of a new way for us, then I swear to God I’ll never curse that fucking amnesia again.

“You know what?” she says and rises from the sofa, “I’d like us to go for a walk. Do you know that Italian ice cream parlor on Main Street? Francesco’s Gelato? Their ice cream is heavenly. Have your ever tried Bacio? It means 'kiss’ in Italian. It’s a delicious mixture of hazelnut and chocolate. I’m in the mood for one of their cones. What about you?”

I’m definitely in the mood for a kiss!

“My treat,” I say.

to be continued

#xf fanfiction #msr #William #eight pictures #Bacio

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