#a peacerope collab

[peacestew]

62 Degrees North

written by MeropeMerope Isak/Even | Rating: E A Faroes Island AU

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Summary: I'm squinting against the sun for most of the day, taking in the island, taking in Isak, in these oblique little chiaroscuro glimpses: a flock of hunting fulmars, darkly silhouetted against the pale sky, darting up the cliff face with blade-like speed. Isak's weathered boots scraping over the uneven basalt stone, finding footholds, as he clambers up the final stretch to the peak of Kolturshamar ahead of me.

He has the low sun at his back when he turns to me. His face is mostly in shadow but the sweep of his cheek, the curls peeking out underneath his beanie, are burnished gold by the light.

The rough wind scrapes across the ridge and snatches his words away. I can just about make out his laugh. Then he burrows against me and speaks right into my ear. "Do you want to hear a tragic story?"

Read the completed fic on AO3 here with art by @peacestew ✨

[peacestew]

62 Degrees North

written by MeropeMerope Isak/Even | Rating: E A Faroes Island AU

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Chapter 6: Sometimes when Isak is working, seemingly lost in thought as he sands down one of the new pilasters or cuts two wood pieces to the same length, there's a sudden change to his movements, a sharp intake of breath, and then he turns around and looks for me.

The first time it happens, he is kneeling at the foot of the stairs. He's been pulling on his unwashed hair all day. There's wood dust smeared on his forehead where he must have rubbed the skin with the back of his hand, and there's more of it clinging to the little gilt hairs on his arms. For reasons unknown, he's only wearing one sock.

He's so lovely.

The moment his gaze finds me, he swallows and the tightness around his mouth softens. He gives me a small smile. It stays on his face as he turns back to his work.

Read on AO3 here with art by @peacestew ✨

[peacestew]

Sometimes when Isak is working, seemingly lost in thought as he sands down one of the new pilasters or cuts two wood pieces to the same length, there’s a sudden change to his movements, a sharp intake of breath, and then he turns around and looks for me. The first time it happens, he is kneeling at the foot of the stairs. He’s been pulling on his unwashed hair all day. There’s wood dust smeared on his forehead where he must have rubbed the skin with the back of his hand, and there’s more of it clinging to the little gilt hairs on his arms. For reasons unknown, he’s only wearing one sock.  He’s so lovely. The moment his gaze finds me, he swallows and the tightness around his mouth softens. He gives me a small smile. It stays on his face as he turns back to his work.

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The final chapter of 62 Degrees North is coming on Sunday, 10th March. We're excited to share it with you! Catch up before the final installment here.

[peacestew]

62 Degrees North

written by MeropeMerope Isak/Even | Rating: E A Faroes Island AU

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Chapter Five:

In my dream, I'm racing up the steep ascent to the lighthouse on Kalsoy, stumbling and sliding across the slick stones every couple of meters. Darkness is rising up from the sea. The air is damp and bitter, and it's filled with the susurrations of unseen wings. They're whispering to me, mocking me, telling me that Isak is lost to me.

It's the kind of dream that holds you hostage on the brink of dawn when your senses are already unfurling, waking up to the day. Part of me knows that Isak must be near me, that I'm lying in the bed we've shared all night, but knowledge is a paltry thing when a dream has hooked its talons into you. When I finally manage to wrench myself away from the phantasms and open my eyes, Sana's room is swimming in hazy, moon-glazed half light.

Isak is by my side. He has cast off the duvet and his pale, naked form is curled around the cushion that he's holding to his chest.

Read on AO3 here with art by @peacestew ✨

[peacestew]

62 Degrees North

Written by MeropeMerope Isak/Even | Rating: E A Faroes Island AU

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Chapter Four: 

I waggle my eyebrows. “You should have thought of rapping all of that. I’d already be on my knees.” 

Isak breaks into laughter, and I’ve always loved the way his whole face sharpens with delight when you startle a laugh out of him: nose and chin becoming pointier, eyebrows rising, and mouth stretching wide, revealing his sharp, gapped teeth. He looked just like this the moment before we kissed for the first time. 

Isak’s laughter fizzles out, ending on a sharp intake of breath.  “Come with me”, he says and the traces of humor and bravado and play-acting that animated his face a moment ago melt away one by one until he looks as lost as I feel. “This can be… whatever you want it to be. Just. Please. Please come home with me tonight.” In the hallway, the lead singer’s voice soars, pushing and pulling recklessly. Isak holds out his hand.  I take it.

Read on AO3 here with art by @peacestew​ ✨

[peacestew]

62 Degrees North

written by MeropeMerope A Faroe Islands AU Isak/Even | Rating: E 

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Chapter Two:

I laughed, trying to keep my phone steady while filming us. “What are you thinking about?”

“You,” Isak said without pause.

“Me?”

“I think of you.” He turned his head to look at me, pressing his cheek against the honey-colored floor. His voice was steady, but I could hear his effort in controlling it: “Always.”

“In a…” My breath felt huge in my chest, confining all sorts of pent-up things. “In a how badly do I need to worry about him tonight sort of way?”

Isak blinked slowly, then gave the tiniest headshake.

Read the new chapter on AO3 here  with art by @peacestew ✨                                                                   

[peacestew]

62 Degrees North

written by MeropeMerope  A Faroe Islands AU Isak/Even | Rating: E

Then: Isak and Even grow up together, find and lose each other. 

Now: Working in his parents’ restaurant on Streymoy, Even’s life isn’t quite what he thought it was going to be. Isak’s life in Aarhus isn’t either. Sana, who’s staying in touch with both, finds that she needs a house sitter for her cluttered little cottage by the sea.

                                    ********************* “Didn’t Sana tell you?” Isak, trying and failing to look innocent, used to be one of my favorite sights in the world. It made me giddy like few other things could. I don’t need a reminder of that.

 “I��m housesitting for her,” Isak continues, studying me like he’s trying to gauge my reaction. 

 I put the peeler down very carefully. “Sana didn’t tell me. You… should have. Told me.”

 “But,” Isak says, lifting his gaze to mine without rancor, “we don’t speak.”

Birthday collaboration for Ghostcat! Read on AO3 here with art by @peacestew ✨