#north star chapter 11

[sixpennydame]

North Star ✶ Chapter 11

A Levi Ackerman x oc slow burn

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An opportunity arises, that puts tension between you and Levi.

A/N: I found an amazing, detailed map of Marley on Reddit that has helped me view the geography of Marley and its surrounding locations. If you'd like an idea of where Mursa is, it's in the far SW range of mountains.

“Levi…you’re overthinking it. Let go and trust!”

Mathieu sits in a corner of the training barn and watches as Levi and Demon race around the perimeter. He shifts uncomfortably, attempting to wave his arms, which are still in slings on either side of his chest. 

“Work with Demon, not against him.”

Levi leans in, pulling the right rein just slightly and attempting to give  Demon more control. After finishing a round, he rides toward Mathieu, beads of sweat dotting his forehead despite the cold. He leads Demon to a water trough before getting a drink himself, ignoring the frustrated look on Mathieu’s face.

“You’re still pulling too hard on the reins when you need to make a right turn. I’ve told you to trust Demon to be your sight on your right side.” Mathieu walks toward Demon and attempts to pet him with his bandaged arm. “It’s a partnership, Levi. You can’t be in total control. Give in a little.”

Levi knew this - he’d heard Mathieu yell this at him a hundred times since he’d started training. He knew he needed to trust that Demon knew just the right time to turn, but without his peripheral vision on his right side, he felt too vulnerable. 

Kenny had taught Levi to always be aware of everything going on around him: every sound, smell, and movement could be a possible attack. He’s sure that his keen senses are what kept him alive for much of his life; so of all his injuries, the lack of sight in his eye has been the hardest adjustment to make. Lack of depth perception, difficulty in judging accurate distances and tracking object movement - abilities most people take for granted - were now challenges beyond his control that not even his Ackerman blood could remedy.

He sometimes wondered why he was even attempting this in the first place. 

But then he remembered: it was a challenge. He knew he wasn’t the man he used to be, but riding made him feel alive and caused all his senses to become alert and focused. When everything clicked with him and Demon, it was like being whole again. 

It’s just this damn eye. 

But Levi could adjust - he just needed to focus.

Which meant he needed to think less about you. That was the whole point of moving out of your house anyway.

It wasn’t like you were completely out of his life. You come daily to the stables to brush and ride Astrid, and you’re both amicable to each other, talking about the weather and goings-on in Mursa, as if nothing had happened between the two of you.

But something had happened. Levi couldn’t get it out of his mind.

Did you think about it too?

He checks his watch. A creature of habit, he knew you’d be here at the stables any moment now to check on Astrid and make lunch for them; the latter you’d insisted on doing ever since the accident. Of course, neither of the men would argue with that, although they argued with each other about almost everything else. 

“Ok old man, enough of your badgering,” Levi says, taking Demon’s reins and leading him out of the barn. “I’m working on it.”

”You better work harder. Your first race is only a few months away,” Mathieu yells to Levi’s back.

——- ✶ ——-

You’re learning to live with it, the solemn silence of the mornings without Levi here. That same empty feeling you’d felt in the previous three years, now creeping its way along the floorboards of the house. It’s been a month now since his departure, and looking back on the night he left, and the kiss that had happened hours before, you felt silly for thinking it was anything other than some fantasy. 

Maybe you were meant to be alone, and that was ok. You’d made due before Levi had come into your life and were learning to live with the loneliness. And besides, he was still your friend; that hadn’t changed, thankfully.

But you missed his presence in the house, the conversations shared in the early morning hours when even the sun had not yet risen. It had been mostly you talking, but he was a good listener, someone who looked at you while you were speaking, as if he was weighing every word carefully. On the rare times he did open up, it was like one of those flowers that only blooms every ten years; it felt special and you couldn’t help but listen, enraptured by the stories of his youth and his training for the Survey Corps. You wondered what it must have been like to live the first half of your life underground. And then, to live within the confines of gigantic walls.

When you were young, you often thought of the mountain ranges surrounding Mursa as high, impenetrable walls. You figured most young people felt that way, eager to escape and see more of the world. It was one of the reasons Martin and his younger brother Tomas had joined the military - a bit of freedom and adventure before settling down. But back then, you all knew Tomas would never settle down. He was wild and carefree, an unstoppable force too big for this small town.

Hmmm..

...you hadn’t thought of Tomas in years, not since your return to Mursa after The Rumbling. Although Martin had loved his younger brother with all his heart, they’d never truly gotten along; like two magnets with opposite poles, it was sometimes hard to believe that the two were even related. Tomas had always yearned to travel over the mountains and make his own way in the world, and he had made it clear to everyone that he never planned on returning to Mursa once he left. True to his word, you’ve not heard from him since.

The picture of him and Martin in their Southern Marley military uniforms still stands on the mantle; Martin is smiling, standing proudly in his officer’s uniform, his hand on the shoulder of his brother. Tomas is sitting in a chair, one arm resting on his leg. He’s not smiling, but there’s a fire in his eyes, a look of eagerness. Like so many others around the world, you wonder if he was killed during The Rumbling, or maybe he was living, carefree, in some other part of the world. 

Because he was about the same age as you, everyone had expected you and he to be friends; but throughout the years, Tomas had only ever treated you with indifference, even when you and Martin had married. Although the relationship between the two of you had always been spotty, it would be nice to have family here. Someone who remembers how things used to be, even though those days are long gone.

You walk to your bedroom as your focus changes to the picture of you and Martin on the altar near your bed. Tradition dictates that the altar be taken down after the three years of mourning are over, but in the past month, you just haven’t had the will to put it away. You know Martin has moved on, and you should too, but some things are just hard to let go of.

But there’s a tug at your heart, saying today’s the day.

The silver frame feels heavier than you remember. It had been a wedding gift from Martin’s parents, in a time when silver was a less precious and rare resource. Lilies of the valley had been delicately etched into the surface, with the year of your betrothal engraved at the bottom. You look so young in the photo, even though only a little over 5 years have gone by. You gently wrap the frame in a silk scarf Martin had given you once for your birthday and place it in a small wooden box. 

The other object on the altar is even harder to put away.

In opposition to the frame, the baby booties are soft and feather-light. You remember sitting in the chair in the corner, easily crocheting them in a day, but being so proud of yourself because they’d been the first thing you’d made for the baby. Other things had come after that: a blanket,  a few tiny cardigans and even tinier bonnets. In a fit of grief, you’d burned those things after returning to Mursa three years ago, along with the other things you and Martin had bought for the nursery. It was just too painful to look at.

Looking at the tiny white booties, you regret doing that now.

You place them next to the frame and close the box, then place it in a corner of your closet. In the spring, you’ll bury it next to the large oak tree in the backyard, the one that Martin would always take naps under as a boy, and where you and he would steal kisses behind in your teenage years. Closing your eyes, you can see him now, sleeping under the tree in the heat of midsummer, your child laying on his chest. Peaceful. Content.

The clock chiming for the hour breaks you from your dream. “I need to get to Mathieu’s,” you say to yourself, putting on your warm winter layers before heading out the door and down the road to the stables.

——- ✶ ——-

“Stop pulling on my coat, you silly girl! I need to brush you, and then we’ll go out and stretch your legs.”

Levi smiles when he hears you talking to Astrid. Your voice always goes up just a tad whenever you talk to animals and little kids. With anyone else, he’d think it annoying, but with you, he finds it endearing. The smile on his face is gone by the time he walks past you.

“Astrid’s been a stubborn little shit lately,” he says as he takes the saddle off Demon. “She probably just wants to see you more.”

(He just wants to see you more.)

“I’m already over here for practically half of the morning every day. Maybe you just need to give her more attention.”

”Astrid could care less about me.”

”Awww, did she reject your charms, Levi?” 

Your laugh reverberates through the stable and causes his mouth to turn upward just a bit. He loves this playful side of you. He’d almost think it flirting if he didn’t know that he’d ruined any of those chances. 

He knows he hurt you that night, when he told you the kiss was a mistake. It was written all over your face: the confusion, the rejection. You had smiled, thinking he wouldn’t notice, but you wear your heart on your sleeve.

A heart that Levi isn’t worthy enough to handle. 

Your eyes shine at him as you give him a wink and a smile, before you continue to brush Astrid. 

This is fine. This is enough for him.

”There’s my favorite girl,” Mathieu exclaims, standing at the entrance of the stables before walking towards you. “The best part of the day is when you arrive here. I’m not sure how much longer I could endure Levi’s sullen looks this morning.” Looking over at Levi, he smirks. “But it seems that your arrival has changed his mood too.”

Levi stiffens while a slight blush washes over his cheeks. He doesn’t look at you, but he can feel your eyes on him. 

“Get inside before you freeze, you old geezer,” Levi replies as he unsaddles Demon. “I’m going to exercise a few of the other horses before lunch.”

“I’ll help him out with that,” you add

“Of course you will,” Mathieu says, a teasing lilt in his voice. “I’ll leave you both to it then.”

“You don’t mind if I join you?” you ask, eyes on him again. 

“Do what you like. They’re not my horses,” his voice as apathetic as he can muster, in hopes it won’t reveal that he loves it when you ride with him. 

He’s realized that in the last month, it’s practically impossible for him to push you completely out of his orbit. 

The two of you ride into the training arena, you on Astrid, and Levi on a young mare he’s been working on saddle training. He can feel a curious aura around you, a question right on the tip of your tongue.

At the end of the hour, it finally comes out.

“Levi, what’s the rest of the world like now? After The Rumbling?”

He forgot that you’ve only left Mursa once in the past three years. But why the sudden interest?

“To be honest, most of it’s in chaos right now. Practically the entire continent of Marley was decimated in The Rumbling, and the loss of such a world power has put every other nation at a stand-still. Even now, there are refugee camps everywhere as entire communities try to rebuild.”

Levi’s face darkens.  “And while nations are either rebuilding or fighting for control, Paradis is building its arsenal, just biding its time to see what kind of world is going to come out of all this.” 

“Some of your former comrades are going to Paradis soon as peace emissaries, right?”

“As if that’s going to make any difference, after all this.” He looks away. “Fucking idiots.”

“You didn’t want to go with them?”

“To do what? Kiss Eldian asses and beg them to be nice?” Levi clicks his tongue. “I’m a soldier, not a politician.”

“You still see yourself as a soldier?”

Levi looks up at you. He didn’t even realize he’d said that.

“No, of course not.”

“Then how do you see yourself?”

That’s something he’s asked himself time and time again. Honestly, he doesn’t know who he is anymore. His entire meaning, his purpose, had been in service to and for others, but now they were all gone, including the world he’d fought so hard to save. It was like learning to be a new person.

He’d spent the years following The Rumbling in that pursuit: joining Onyakopon and the others in rebuilding the world, hoping to find that meaning he’d lost. But through it all, this lingering emptiness followed him. His life in Mursa was supposed to be a reset, a chance for him to rediscover himself without the shadow of war and death.

So why did he feel just as lost as ever?

It embarrasses him that he can’t answer you, and so he deflects. “Tch, what’s with all the damn questions today?” 

“Well, before  Annika returns to Mursa this spring, she wrote to me and said that she and some other doctors are working with an organization to help set up a clinic at the Pulsella Refugee Camp.”

”She would do something that idiotic. Does she realize how incredibly dangerous it is there? That part of Marley is still a steaming pile of shit. It’s overrun with bands of warring gangs.”

“You’ve been there?”

“I haven’t, but I’ve been to plenty other camps that were the same. We did what we could, but not even the Marley military - what’s left of it - will touch that place.”

Your brows are knit in contemplation. “So that’s what’s happening beyond these mountains.”

“A lot of turmoil and strife. You’re lucky to live in a place like this.”

“I suppose I am.” You pull on Astrid’s reins, leading her out of the arena. “I should go get lunch ready.”

Something’s shifted in you, but Levi can’t quite put a finger on what that might be. It sends a pang of worry and uneasiness through his mind.

It seems that pushing his feelings down for you is going to be harder than he thought.

——- ✶ ——-

A few days pass before you return to the stables. Levi figured you had other things to do, but it didn’t stop him looking over the horizon every morning, expecting to see your figure walking in the slushy snow. It’s been unseasonably warm the past few weeks; he’d been told to expect snow well into mid-spring, but nothing about the world has been normal since The Rumbling, not even the weather. It’s beyond Levi’s level of understanding, but a scientist had explained to him that it had something to do with the months it took for the millions of steaming titan bodies to decompose, as well as the environments those same titans had destroyed. 

His muscles ache as he breaks up some ice that had accumulated at the entrance of Mathieu’s home, the sound of the shovel scraping against the ground only interrupted when he hears footsteps behind him.

“Warm today. Spring will be here before we know it,” you say.

”Not nearly soon enough. I’ve about had it with snow.” He stops and leans his body on the shovel, relieving some pressure on his leg. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yeah. I’ve been busy.”

You don’t elaborate, and Levi doesn’t ask what you mean. You’re standing next to him but he feels a great distance between you both, something he hasn’t felt since becoming friends with you. 

But this was the whole point of his moving away. This is what he wanted.

Right?

Your silence continues as you saddle Astrid, choosing to ride outside by yourself instead of with Levi. There’s no questions today. No asking him about his knee or how Mathieu is doing. 

Something is up. And as much as Levi wants to ask you what’s going on, he knows it’s not his place. He shouldn’t pry into your life.

Mathieu, however, has no boundaries, and when you finally all sit down to lunch, he asks, “Is there something wrong, Catherine? You’re quiet today.”

You shift in your chair and wipe your lips with your napkin. “No, nothing’s wrong. But I do have some news.”

At that, both men lean forward. “Annika has asked me to help her pack up her things before her move back to Mursa this spring.” You pause, sitting up straighter. “She also invited me to accompany her to her last assignment with her hospital: to set up and build a clinic at the Pulsella Refugee Camp in the Eastern Marley Territories. You stand up and take the plates from the table. “I’ll be gone for a month or two.”

“Why?” Levi’s voice is cold and direct.

”What do you mean, why? I want to help Annika.”

”With moving, ok yes, I get that. But going to Pulsella? I told you it’s a lawless wasteland there. What can you do?”

”I guess…I just want to try and make a difference, in whatever way I can. Annika said they could use volunteers to make food, distribute aid kits, and build more permanent shelters. I think I can help.”

”How? By getting yourself killed? Some help that’ll be..”

”Levi…” Mathieu says, putting a hand on his arm.

You turn your back to both of the men, walking to the kitchen with the plates. “I knew it. I knew you wouldn’t understand. I didn’t even want to tell you.”

Levi is quick to follow you. “I don’t think you understand. That place is beyond dangerous, Catherine. The people are desperate there.

”All the more reason why people who care should go help those who have nowhere else to go.” You start roughly washing the dishes. “I’m tired of just living here while others are suffering. It doesn’t feel right.”

There’s an intense silence as you roughly rinse the plates. Levi knows he should say something, tell you that he’s worried and he just doesn’t want anything to happen to you. But to say all that would be to admit that he still cares for you deeply. 

The whole problem would be solved if he just went with you, but he knows he can’t. He promised he’d stay and help Mathieu, and the old man had already put time and money into training him for this damn race. He can’t back down from his commitment.

And he knows the kind of hard work in store there; hard labor that his body can no longer accomplish. Even if he managed to go along and there was an altercation, he’s not sure he could fully protect you in a fight. Feelings of uselessness bubble up inside him.

He opens his mouth to speak, but you suddenly put down a plate and face him, cutting off his train of thought.

”And frankly, Levi, I don’t understand you. First, you told me I was strong and to rely on my friends. Now I’m trying to use my strength and be useful, but you’re against it. The way you talk to me makes me feel like you see me as some helpless, frail woman, when I’m anything but. Or maybe I am, I don’t know.”

You bite your bottom lip. Levi’s noticed that you get emotional when you’re angry. You’re probably trying to hold back tears, in an effort to look strong in front of him.

”I don’t really know who I am. But I’ve done hard things before and I can do it again.”

”Yeah, but this time I won’t be there to save you.”

He didn’t want to have to spell it out for you to make you understand.

But his words don’t have the effect he was expecting. Levi sees your body tense as you furrow your brow. 

“I’m thankful for what you did for me on Mount Aspe, I really am. But don’t hold it over me like some kind of trump card anytime you want to boss me around. I didn’t ask you to save me then and I’m certainly not asking for your opinion now.”

“You’re not listening, Catherine.” He could feel his patience wearing thin.

“Oh, I hear you loud and clear, Levi. You think I need a man to look after me. Well, if it makes you feel better, I’m sure there’ll be lots of young, strong men there that will be more than happy to assist me with whatever I need.” Your voice drips with resentment. 

So that’s how you see him, as some weak, old piece of shit. You probably judge him for escaping the outside world and coming here. His fists clench and he feels defensive for the first time in ages.

“Oh yeah? I didn’t know you were that lonely and desperate for a man that you’d do something this stupid.” 

Shit.

He went too far. He knew it instantly when he saw the look of hurt on your face, tears forming in the corners of your eyes before you blink them away. Your jaw tenses, and something changes in the way you look at him.

”Fuck you, Levi.”

It’s not the first time those three words have been directed toward him, but hearing them come from your mouth, it makes him visibly wince.

You bolt out of the kitchen and head straight for the door.

“I leave in two days, so I need to get packing. Mathieu, Luka will come by with my stable rent payments and to ride Astrid.”

The door slams and then there’s silence. Levi can feel Mathieu scowling at him. 

“What?”

Mathieu rises from his seat and shakes his head. “You can be a real asshole sometimes, you know that?”

——- ✶ ——-

“Asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you trudge through the snow. 

You had a feeling  Levi would react negatively when you told him your plans; it’s why you hesitated saying anything until the last minute. You knew he’d doubt your strength and question the reasoning behind your motives.

But calling you lonely and desperate…that went over the line. It was a deliberate jab.

And it infuriates you even more to admit that he’s right, to some extent. You are lonely. You do want to feel the touch of a man again, to feel wanted and desired.

But that’s not why you’re going to Pulsella. He knows that. He’s just miserable about life and wants everyone else to feel that way. You wonder now what you ever liked about him in the first place.

You’re glad he moved out. The less you see of him the better.

You slam the door and stomp through the living room, startling Max and Albert. 

“Whoa. Everything ok?” Max asks.

”It’s fine,” you reply sharply. “Max, can you take me to the train station in two days?”

”Sure…I just figured Levi would take you..” he answers, each word coming out in hesitance.

”Why would you think that? He doesn’t live here anymore.”

Max scratches his head nervously. “I don’t know..I guess I thought the two of you were…“ you send him a questioning look, “...good friends.”

“Humph,” you scoff, “that man doesn’t want to have any friends.”

Needing to clear your head, you head straight to the kitchen. “I’m gonna bake something.”

But as your hands knead through the dough, you feel the embers of your temper fading. Placing the two loaves of quick bread in the oven, your mind feels even clearer. What Levi had said was hurtful, but maybe you’d been hard on him too. You’d assumed he didn’t trust in you, when maybe he was just worried about you. 

He’d told you he cared for you once. Perhaps that was just his really bad way of showing that. 

You expect him to walk through the door that night, admit his feelings, and apologize for being an ass. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s had to do that.

But he doesn’t come that evening, or the evening after. Your last night at home, you stop looking for him.

Perhaps it’s time you stopped expecting things from Levi that will never be.

——- ✶ ——-

Max stops the wagon in front of the train station. “You be careful out there, Catherine. I promise I’ll keep the guys in line.”

“I’m more worried about who’s gonna keep you in line.” You give Max a quick hug. “I’ll see you in a couple of months. Don’t burn the house down.”

You buy your ticket and walk to the platform, but before you can make it to the train you stop.

Levi stands there, hands in pockets, leaning against a pillar. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, knowing you can’t just ignore him.

“I had to come into town anyway to run errands for the old man.” His foot kicks a clump of dirt away from your luggage. “I figured I might as well see you off.” He reaches down to grab the handle. “Let me get that.”

Your hand quickly pulls it away. “I can carry it just fine, thanks.”

Levi walks with you silently until you reach the entrance of your train car. You’re not sure which is worse: his awkward silence or his crude remarks. Not wanting to experience either anymore, you decide to end…whatever this is that’s happening.

“Well, I’ll see you in two months. Take care.”

“Wait.”

Levi pulls out a slender knife from his pocket and places it in your hand. “For protection.”

You look down at the wooden handle. “A knife? I don’t need this.”

“It’s a switchblade, and you do need it.” He moves closer to you and puts his hand on yours, guiding your finger to a metal knob on the wooden handle. “This is the safety. You slide this to lock and unlock the knife.”

He then guides you to another button. “Just press this button and the blade pops out.” It opens with a click. “Press down this tab to slide it back into the handle.”

You haven’t felt Levi’s touch since that New Year’s morning and it makes your heart race. His hand lingers on yours, encouraging your fingers to curl around the now warm handle. 

“Just take it. Please.”

Although his lips don’t say, “I’m sorry,” you know him well enough to know that this is his way of apologizing, and to show that he trusts you.

You pull your hand away from his and put it in your pocket, your way of saying that you accept his apology.

“If you’re being attacked, don’t hesitate for a moment to use it. Seconds count in those kinds of situations.”

“I’ll be careful.” You want to say more, but the conductor is yelling for all to board, and passengers begin to push by.

“Just come back safe.” Levi moves away from you slowly. “And bring back that knife. I’ve had it a long time.”

You smile, then board the train. As you find your seat and look out the window, you notice that Levi stays on the platform until the train slowly accelerates out of the station.

——- ✶ ——-

The three day train ride reminded you how big Marley was, and it was hard to believe most of it had been decimated. Trains would only take you so far, however, and Annika said she and her friend would pick you up at the final train station and drive you the rest of the way to Pulsella.

True to her word, Annika stands next to an automobile with a tall man. 

He shakes your hand and gives you a warm smile. 

“So nice to finally meet you, Catherine. I've heard so much about you.”

“I’m Onyankopon.”

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[criticallyinneedofadar]

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All of my fics are available on AO3 under the same username Criticallyinneedofadar! AO3 Link

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[mpileons]

behind the goal posts | alexia putellas x reader

> chapter two

A/N: this is the first fic ive written in a while so bare w/ me as i get back into the motion of writing :) also construction criticism & suggestions are always welcome <3

+ this going to be a multi chapter story, please patient w me and ill try to make it worth your while :,)

—

Summary: Everyone knows Alexia Putellas. Star football player and the face of Barcelona. However, what they don’t know is that she is been in a secret relationship for years, and that relationship is slowly slipping out of her hands.

Word Count: 1.9K

Chapter 1

A Year Ago —

It all started on a regular Wednesday, I was getting ready for my morning shift at Lever & Bloom. It was all very normal, I woke up extremely late as per usual, and had to rush out of my apartment complex without doing my hair or my makeup which was once again, per usual.

As 10am hit, I was getting into the motion of making drinks and chatting with customers. Although being a barista is quite a mundane job, I thoroughly enjoy every part of it, especially talking with the regulars and forming those relationships that never fail to bring a smile to my face. As I went to take my break, I saw a distinct blonde head of hair enter the cafe premises. Everytime she enters the cafe (which is very often) my intrigue seems to rise more and more. She seems to always come in at 11 on the dot, every weekday. Not that I’m keeping track or anything. Definitely not. Conveniently, as she goes to the counter I decide to save my break for later. Definitely not anything to do with her.

"One large ic-" The tall blonde starts to speak, but I'm quick to interrupt her. "A large iced americano with an extra shot of espresso, I know, it's coming right up," I say, a small smile creeping onto my face. I turn to see the same expression reflected on her face, a shared moment of understanding passing between us.

For some reason, I feel an impulse I can't ignore. With nervous yet hopeful determination, I grab a napkin and hastily scrawl down my number along with her order. With trembling hands, I slide the napkin across the counter, our fingers brushing for a fleeting moment, sending a jolt of electricity through me.

"Thanks," she murmurs, her voice soft and tinged with warmth as she takes the napkin. I watch her as she takes a seat by the window, her eyes fixed on her phone as she waits for her drink.

My heart starts to pound in my chest, anticipation mingling with apprehension. What if she doesn't text? What if I completely misread everything?

I push all the thoughts out of my head as I prepare her iced americano, my hands tremble slightly, betraying the calm facade I try to maintain around her. When it's ready, I take a deep breath and walk over to her table, setting the drink down with a shaky hand.

"Here you go," I say, my voice barely above a whisper, hoping she can't hear the rapid thumping of my heart that I'm sure is about to explode.

"Thanks again," she replies, flashing me a dazzling smile that sets my heart aflutter. And then, to my surprise and delight, she adds, "By the way, I'm Alexia."

The sound of her name sends a shiver down my spine, and I can't help but return the gesture. "Nice to meet you, Alexia. I'm Y/N," I say, hoping she can't hear the increasingly rapid thumping of my heart.

We exchange a few more words before I have to return to my duties behind the counter, but her presence lingers in my mind long after she leaves. And as the days turn into weeks and then months, we start to form somewhat of a routine that consists of Alexia coming to get coffee every weekday morning, some light-hearted flirting, then I constantly think about her until I see her the next day.

Present Day –

The soft chime of the café's door announces Alexia's arrival, as it does every weekday morning. My heart skips a beat at the sight of her, as it usually does, alongside a familiar pang of longing mixed with resentment tightening in my chest. I watch as Alexia approaches the counter, a radiant smile gracing her lips.

"Hey, Y/N," Alexia greets, her voice warm and inviting.

"Hey," my tone lacking its usual warmth. I start to busy myself with preparing Alexia's usual order, my movements stiff and mechanical. Whether Alexia is paying attention to these details or not is completely lost on me.

As I hand Alexia the cup, our fingers almost touch but Alexia pulls away quickly, further spiralling my conflicting emotions.

"Thanks," Alexia says with a tight smile.

I somehow manage to force a smile in return, but it feels hollow, fake. As Alexia takes her usual seat by the window, her attention is focused on her phone. The sight stirs a flicker of jealousy within me, a bitter unwanted reminder of the countless admirers vying for Alexia's attention.

The minutes tick by, each one stretching out into what seems like an eternity as I try to manage my emotions. I want to reach out to Alexia, to tell her how I am truly feeling, but the words stay stuck in my throat, still suffocated by the weight of the secret I have no choice but to keep.

As Alexia finishes her drink and prepares to leave, my resolve quickly crumbles. "Alexia, wait," I blurted out, cringing at how my voice is tinged with obvious desperation.

Alexia turns to me, concern flashing in her eyes. "Is everything okay babe?"

I start to hesitate, my heart pounding like an alarm in my chest. I try to open my mouth to speak, but the words elude me.

"Never mind," I murmur, forcing a weak smile. "Just... take care, okay?"

Alexia's brow furrows in confusion, but she nods, concern etched into her features. "You too, Y/N."

As Alexia leaves the café, I am left alone with my thoughts, the weight of secrecy pressing down on me like a suffocating blanket. I begin to wonder how much longer I can keep up the charade, how much longer I can pretend that everything is okay when it's anything but.

I return back to the counter with my heart pounding like a drum inside my chest and my thoughts racing. As the day drags on and my return back to Alexia and I’s shared apartment is approaching, I know something has to change. The weight of secrecy was slowly crushing me and if this goes on any longer, I do not know how much there will be left of our relationship to salvage, or if there will be anything left to salvage. Whether I had the courage to confront this and risk the comfort we had built is another story.

10 Months Ago —

My phone flashes with a message as I am sitting at my desk pouring over textbooks.

Alexia: Be ready at 6, dress comfortably.

As I went to respond, I couldn't hide the bright grin growing on my face. Ever since that day two months ago, Alexia and I had been texting nonstop, talking about anything, everything and all that's in between. I couldn't help but feel as if the universe had dropped a gift into my lap. Alexia was unbelievably attentive and rather charming, further adding to my ever growing feelings for her. As we kept talking nonstop, we found that we were completely different. She's a professional footballer, I do not know a singular thing about football. I study film with a minor in astronomy, she is not very well versed in either of those. However, we are similar in every aspect that matters. Although I couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to be true, she is undeniably attractive, charming, funny, the list goes on and on. Why would she settle for an overworked university student with a mundane part time job?

I push all those thoughts away for later as I start to get ready, considering this will be our first date, if it even is a date. I needed to be prepared, but not too prepared.

Hours pass and I am now in Alexia's car as music softly plays from the console and her hand is lightly resting on my thigh, as if it was always meant to be there.

“Pretty pleasee just tell me where we’re going” I turn to her with the biggest puppy dog eyes, which seem to not work as she just chuckles and shakes her head. “We’re almost there, just a little patience baby” She murmurs and kisses my hand as a way of apologising.

Alexia starts to put the car into park and quickly leaves the car to open my door, ever the gentlewoman. She intertwines her hand with mine as she leads me into a very familiar building. “Uhm Alexia, why are we at the astronomy club?” I look to her with a very confused frown as she looks to me with the softest smile that completely melts my heart, “I got us tickets to a private rooftop stargazing event hosted by a local astronomy club” She speaks with excitement lacing every word, she couldn't even get the words out before I jump into her arms and squeeze her into the tightest hug known to man as a way to try show a glimmer of the feelings taking over my heart due to her unexpected attentiveness. She just smiles at me and gently kisses my forehead as if I am the softest thing in the world, I think I will just melt into a puddle of gush right then and there because of all her actions.

She once again takes my hand as we ascend the stairs to the rooftop, my heart races with excitement and anticipation. The night sky stretches out above creating a vast canvas of twinkling stars and constellations.

Upon reaching the rooftop, we’re greeted by a cosy setup complete with blankets, pillows, and telescopes. Soft music plays in the background, a realisation hits me suddenly. This is the song that was playing when I gave Alexia my number two months ago. The pure amount of consideration, care and thought that Alexia put into this date is making my eyes water, Alexia takes notice of this and immediately comes to engulf me with a hug as she lightly peppers kisses on my head. How did I get so lucky?

She starts to lead me, according to her, to the prime stargazing spot. She snakes her hands around my waist as her chin rests in the crook between my shoulder and neck while I peer through the telescope. “Alexia, you need to see this!” I excitedly tell her but to my surprise she shakes her head “I’d rather stay here with you” I turn to her with the biggest grin as I kiss her cheek and tell her various stories about all the constellations.

As the night wears on, we find ourselves lost in each other's company, our laughter mingling with the soft strains of music and the rustle of the night. With each passing moment, my heart swells more and more with a sense of warmth and belonging, a feeling I had never imagined I could find in another person.

And as the night starts to draw to a close, Alexia leans in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if savouring every moment leading up to the kiss. As I was thinking that the anticipation was going to be the death of me, I felt the warmth of Alexia's breath against my skin as our lips meet in a tender embrace, the world falling away, leaving only the sensation of Alexia's lips against mine, incredibly soft and inviting. My fingers instinctively tangle in Alexia's hair, pulling her as close to me as humanly possible. In that fleeting moment, everything feels right in the world.

[thecoffeelorian]

Fandom Friday, 11/29: Fanfiction

Hello again, everyone…and welcome to another installment of Fandom Friday, the two-post series where I go off to find new and interesting fanworks that might need a bit more visibility.

Before we get started, however, I would like to say something kind of important here--I almost considered asking how everyone's Thanksgiving was, but just in time, I remembered that this was mostly a North American invention, so! Instead, I would like to ask you all if your fall/autumn-specific holiday was a good one this year; and if you're comfortable with saying so, which one(s) do you celebrate around this season? Feel free to leave a blurb or two in the comments/reblogs if you're willing, because I'd love to hear from you.

And now, before I go off on too much of a tangent...here are my picks of the week.

THE CLONE WARS

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @orangez3st:

The Clone Wars Fanfiction--By @ireadwithmyears:

THE BAD BATCH

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @jswahaarts:

The Bad Batch Fanfiction--By @artist-kreating-stuff:

ROGUE ONE

Rogue One Fanfiction--By @nooowestayandgetcaught:

THE MANDALORIAN

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @javier-pena:

The Mandalorian Fanfiction--By @kayedium-writes:

In conclusion, as part of my mission to poke around the Star Wars fandom and, on Friday every two weeks, highlight those writers who might otherwise go unnoticed…I hope you will check out the links I have included for yourselves and like, comment on, and reblog them, as well as also giving the writers a few more followers to their Tumblr pages.

Please also like and reblog this latest installment so that these links can be spread around to as many other fans as possible, just in case not all of them can tune in at the same time.

An additional thank you goes to @djarrex for making the divider I used earlier in this post, but still want to give credit for.

And finally, so that I do not forget…thank you to my friends, thank you to this fandom, and above all else, please stay safe out there.

No Pressure Tags: @melymigo @algo-o-nada @the-osborn-way @everybirdfellsilent @skellymom

@leos-multifandom-corner @maggie-dylan @leenathegreengirl @gun-roswell @tazmbc1

@bluedeedeedoop @its-time-to-rise-above @tlmtwelve @snoowply and anybody else who might be on the lookout for new SW fanfiction.

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

Alex’s feelings being symbolized as fire and Henry’s being symbolized as water

I made a post like this time ago, but this one is better.

The first example you can see is their zodiac signs. They immediately link Alex to fire (Aries) and Henry to water (Pisces).

Alex’s feelings are fire, intense, they can burn him, strong, when he feels them, he feels them in an intense way (She doesn’t worry about going public with it; feelings don’t consume her the way his do.)

Henry’s feelings are water, deep, they can drown him, clear (genuine), when he feels something, he feels it deep (Every time something terrible happens to you from then on, it doesn’t just stop at the bottom—it goes all the way down.)

Now going directly at the book. It’s present through all of it but specially during chapter 9-10.

Alex is paired with phrases like “having a fire under his ass” or “you’re flying too close to the sun”.

In chapter 9, there are sentences like these “I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty” and “with fingers that smell like smoke” and “He watches a drop of water roll down Henry’s perfect nose and disappear into his mouth” Those are little sentences, little symbolism not exactly important to the plot (except maybe the last one, although it might be a reach from my part).

I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty

Sun symbolizes life, brightness, positivity, etc etc. This is Alex saying than he can’t stop thinking about Henry happy (and away from the palace). The sun is also made of fire. Who is deeply tied with fire all around the book? Alex.

with fingers that smell like smoke.

Henry spent the day with Alex and his family (Nora is basically family too), on a place really important to him, where not everyone gets to go. This could be Alex being all around, kind of seeping through him. Being obviously in love with him, and that having an effect in him.   

He watches a drop of water roll down Henry’s perfect nose and disappear into his mouth.

The drop of water (Henry’s feelings) disappear into his mouth, he doesn’t say them.   

There’s also this one

“I guess that makes you the North Star?”

Stars are made out of fire, in some way. This is Alex seeing Henry like how Henry sees him (alive, bright) because when Henry thought than Alex loving him would set him on fire, is not only because Casey enjoys symbolism, but also because Alex was “happy and animated and fully alive, a person living in dimensions I couldn’t access”.

Stars shine in the same way the sun does, but they don’t appear like they do because of the distance between us and the stars. This is Alex seeing Henry like how Henry sees him (I talk more about it at the end of this post), Henry is as bright as Alex, it’s just harder to see because he’s more guarded, he keeps his distance, he keeps himself to himself. Alex is more open compared to Henry, so it’s easier to see Alex as a sun rather than Henry. Meanwhile Alex is fire and Henry is water, through the book Henry gains fire elements. A representation of Alex’s influence on him.

Then at the lake, the symbolism really starts.

The lake is made out of water, the lake is Henry’s feelings (a parallel to Alex on chapter 11 saying Sometimes I feel like a funny-looking rock in the middle of the most beautiful clear ocean when I read the kinds of things you write to me.)

The water ripples quietly around him as he slides his hands up to hold Henry’s face in both palms, tracing his cheekbones with the wet pads of his thumbs.

In this scene, the lake is Henry’s feelings. They were surrounded by Henry’s feelings, so strong (a mix of his own feelings for Alex and how he felt about Alex’s confession) than it was the width of a lake. That’s why they were inside the lake when this confession happened.

The water ripples quietly around him, Henry’s feelings being shown through their surroundings.

Tracing his cheekbones with the wet pads of his thumbs. Alex is touching Henry with wet hands. Wet by the lake, wet by Henry’s feelings. He’s surrounded by them, Henry helped him not take it ten years into the future, and just be, even if unknowingly, so during Alex’s confession, he was swimming on Henry’s feelings. The credit was not Henry’s, obviously, but I think than if Alex never started going out with Henry, maybe this change would have took longer to happen. 

His hands are wet, he is affected by Henry’s feelings, and he touches Henry while being affected by his feelings. He tells him about having a fire under his ass and slowly getting rid of it, to which Henry had something to do with, and he tries to confess. This whole line explains the entire scene perfectly.  

 

Abruptly Henry shifts, ducking beneath the surface and out of his arms before he can say anything else. 
He pops back up near the pier, hair sticking to his forehead ///  Henry spits out lake water and sends a splash in his direction,  

Henry gets away from Alex, but he’s still in the lake, still on the water. He’s feeling here, he doesn’t ignore his feeling for “Alex’s sake” (what Henry was probably thinking). 

Hair sticking to his forehead, the water, his feelings, are still present. Henry spits out lake water, he tries to get rid of them, somehow. To ignore them, to not focus on his own feelings at the moment.

and sends a splash in his direction, he pushes his feelings away from himself.

as he turns and starts hauling himself out of the water and onto the dock.

Henry is the first one to get out of the lake, apparently, running away from Alex’s feelings, but using the symbolism, also running away from his. Not denying himself what he felt, since he already knew, but trying to ignore it. Trying to ignore his feelings and the fact than Alex reciprocated because that just couldn’t work out. It didn’t make sense than Alex loved him back.   

Now chapter 10, this one has the most fire/water symbolism.

It’s dark and pissing down rain when they land in London / Fat raindrops are pelting right into his eyeballs.

Basically, Henry breaking down. Henry's feelings being too much for him to handle, too deep, too bottomless, to keep inside of him anymore.
Now, his feelings are the rain. It was dark and pissing down rain. Strongly raining. Henry knew Alex loved him back, and he couldn't deal with that. He couldn't deal than, when it all would
eventually end, as he thought it would, he would not only break his own heart, but Alex's too. 

At the moment, he still believed than he deserved nothing, than he was only born to be a puppet for the crown. Than he didn't deserve happiness, didn't deserve Alex's love because, what was there of him to love? However, even if he didn't feel deserving of happiness, of Alex's feelings,
he still loved him. He loved him strongly like the rain outside. 

Rain outside, than, by the way, was soaking Alex.

Alex was soaking in Henry's feelings the moment he arrived at Kensington. One, because Henry's feelings were so deep and strong than occupied all of London, and two, because those feelings were directed specially towards Alex.

Henry paces over to the elaborately carved fireplace across the room and leans on the mantelpiece.

The fireplace. The fireplace has a big part in this scene omg.

The fireplace, who is continuously being described with fire-related elements? Alex.

So the fireplace is a tangible representation of Alex’s feelings, he paces over it. He’s deciding whatever he should accept Alex’s feelings or not. Whatever he should let Alex confess or not. Deciding exactly what to do with them. Because giving Alex up nearly killed him, but if he accepted his feelings, everything else would be so much more complicated. They would have to fight, and as we see later in the scene, Henry doesn’t think of himself as a fighter, but a coward.    

 

“I fucking love you, okay?” Alex half yells, finally, irreversibly.     
Henry goes very still against the mantelpiece.

Alex said it, Henry can’t just ignore it or deny it anymore, he goes still against the mantelpiece, he doesn’t pace over it anymore. Alex said it, there’s no turning back.

 

A small click cuts the silence: Henry has taken his signet ring off and set it down on the mantel.

He takes of his signet ring (a symbol of monarchy, something than probably was passed down to him, which means than it’s also a symbol of history. The prince of Wales signet ring [Charles ring] reads: Ich Dien. I serve. A tangible representation of his service to the country. Of his responsibilities) and he puts it in the fireplace.

The fireplace, which represents Alex’s feelings.

He takes off his ring, takes off monarchy and that sense of expectation than comes with it, and sets it on top of the fireplace. Leaves the two possible futures for him side by side. The ring, meaning monarchy, having to pretend someone he’s not, probably marrying a woman and stay in the same place and system than caused him so much pain. But than, nonetheless, would be the easier choice.

Or, a possible future with Alex. A future they both would have to fight tooth and nail for, and maybe, will not even happen. Maybe they will not be accepted. Maybe it all would turn out wrong. Maybe Alex would regret in the future. But than, even if it’s the most complicated and unknown path, is the one where Henry would be able to be himself for once, and where he would have Alex at his side.    

He holds his naked hand to his chest,

He’s not used to not wearing the ring, to have a choice, to decide for himself.

his naked hand, bare, exposed, the real him, how he actually feels about the whole situation, about the choice he has to make. Just Henry, not Prince Henry.

He holds his hand to his chest, to his heart, here we have a little bit of foreshadowing you could say, than he makes the decision based on his heart, on his feelings. He chooses what he feels.   

Alex yanks the soggy note out of his pocket, I wish there wasn’t a wall,

Soggy, wet by the rain. Wet by Henry’s feelings. After all, he did put his real feelings on the note. But this is not what it is about. It’s because then more than ever the note was true. Henry did wish there wasn’t a wall, Alex loved him back, if only Henry could accept it, if only there wasn’t a wall.

    

staring at a point on the mantel somewhere

He stares at the mantel meanwhile he confesses. He talks about how “it was never supposed to be an issue” while staring at the mantel, at the two possible futures for him. 

“I never thought I’d be standing here faced with a choice I can’t make, because I never . . . I never imagined you would love me back.”

He was still staring at the mantel. What was he supposed to choose, the path than was written since before he was born, the easy path yet the unhappy one, or the unknown path, the one he didn’t know where would led them but than, still, it would led Henry to a more happy place, even if it will be more complicated.

He never had to think about what he would do given the situation, given than he thought than said situation would never happen. He never had to think, because he thought than he would always continue just as he was, than nothing would come and change it all.

He realizes, suddenly, Henry’s crying.

Henry’s feelings getting out, showing them, not being able to ignore them anymore.   

the fire gone out.

This fire could refer to Alex’s feelings, or it could refer to the strong emotions subsiding, before, they were screaming, crying, now it’s calm, in some way.

If it refers to Alex’s feelings, it doesn’t change much. Alex’s feelings before were angry, irritated, he was screaming, trying to understand and make Henry understand than he should have control over his own life, now he’s calmer.  

there’s a violent rain lashing against the big picture window, half-revealed by parted curtains.

What if I said than I actually adore this line?

Violent rain, lashing against the big picture window. Henry’s feelings being violent. He’s thinking things through, making a decision, and his feelings are strong, like a violent rain.

Half-revealed by parted curtains. He isn’t showing Alex all of his feelings, but he’s showing him some of them, which is more than he did the previous days, since here Alex is seeing the rain, even if it’s half-revealed by parts curtains. Before Alex came, in the USA it wasn’t raining, it was raining in London. Alex wasn’t in London, so Alex didn’t know about the rain until he came. Henry didn’t tell him about his feelings until Alex went for himself to talk to him. Now, it rains while Alex is in London, where he can see the rain. Henry shows him some of his feelings without Alex having to talk to Henry in order to understand them. 

Alex says this some lines later: It’s time, he realizes, to start accepting only what Henry can give him.

He says it referring the Le Monde newspaper, but Alex also doesn’t open the curtains, he settles with the rain he can see through the half-revealed window.

Next to the clock on the mantel, Henry’s ring still sits.

He left it where it was the night before, meaning he’s still pondering over what to choose, except, Henry isn’t in the room anymore. He’s thinking outside, and he left the ring inside.

He makes this decision without monarchy in sight. He leaves the ring behind, it’s weight no longer in him. It’s a decision he has to make for himself, untouched and uninfluenced by monarchy, just him for once. 

Just what Henry decides (he chooses his own happiness over what is decided for him) before Henry explains his decision.

Also, clocks (next to the clock on the mantel) can symbolize emotional overwhelm, caused by things like lack of time, or deadlines (Henry was on a deadline, in some way. He had to choose what he wanted to do, he couldn’t put it off any longer). Henry was emotional overwhelmed.  

”I honestly have never thought I deserved to choose.” His hand moves, fingertips brushing a curl behind Alex’s ear. “But you treat me like I do.”

Not regarding fire/water but I wanted to add this.

Henry is not talking about how Alex told him than he deserved to choose, but about how he treated him like he deserved to choose.

Is not “but you make me feel like I do”, or “but you convinced me than I should” or anything else, is Alex treating him like he deserves to choose what did it to him. 

Surely people told Henry about how he should choose over his own life, but they never treated him with the respect and understanding than one should receive when is in charge of making decisions. Alex held him accountable. He went to Kensington, went off on him for ghosting him, told him than they could figure something out, called him an obtuse fucking asshole, the whole deal.

Sure, the blame was on the monarchy (specially Henry’s grandmother [do not speak the devil’s name]) but part of the blame was also on Henry. Henry decided to run from the lakehouse, Henry decided to ghost Alex, no one forced him to do these things. And Henry endured a lot of brainwashing and manipulation from monarchy, which led to him making decisions like these ones, but at the end of the day, the decision was his. I feel like because of these brainwashing from monarchy most of his actions were excused, people (like Pez or Bea) felt bad for him, understood what train of thought led to these decisions, didn’t told him “hey that was an asshole move”. Alex did. He held him accountable for what he did.

Henry being held accountable this time might have made him realize than he did, in fact, choose to do all that. Mary didn’t force him to do it. Sure, she’s the reason why he did it, but Mary didn’t ask him to, she didn’t force him. Henry did it himself. Which means he can choose for himself, and than he should start choosing good things for himself, not choosing what will hurt him out of fear and resignation.

When Alex told him about how he could choose, how they could figure something out, he was serious. He genuinely believed it could work (and it did). I think than the lack of realism regarding Henry's decisions is what made him believe than he shouldn’t choose, than he didn’t deserve it. Aside from Henry probably never being granted a chance to have a voice regarding matters growing up (like which clothes he wore, etc which led him to believe he just couldn’t choose, shouldn’t choose, than everyone else knew what was better for him [given his position (he didn’t have the same responsibilities as normal people, he had the weight of a country on him, etc etc)] and also since very little his ideas and thoughts were probably dismissed, not only because that’s what almost everyone does to kids, but because if Henry had little control over his life now, in his 20s, imagine as a kid. His parents listened to him, surely, but did his grandmother? For years, since he was a kid, to a teenager, to now, she probably just smiled or frowned her lips regarding if she agreed or not, but never actually took anything he said seriously), it’s the way everyone else viewed what Henry wanted for himself. They viewed it as something unattainable.

For example, I imagine Bea and Henry talking about the future, and it’s always if. Imagine if this happened, if it went like this, if we did that. Never talking about a realistic future, because they didn’t realistically expect a good future (specially Henry) where they could actually choose. Alex makes it real, he genuinely believes it. It had been a long time since people genuinely believed Henry could have a good future made up of choices about his life he made by himself. I feel like even if Pez tried to be positive and talk about how it all would be okay eventually, he didn’t exactly believe it. Pez had been with Henry for years, he knew how monarchy was up close, something Alex didn’t truly know (for this part of the book. Alex heard stories, heard Henry complain, but he didn’t see it up close yet). Even if he tried to be genuine, to bring some positivity, some light to Henry’s thoughts, Henry saw right through him. However Alex genuinely believed it, which made Henry stop on his tracks and actually consider the possibilities.

Alex treats him like he deserves to choose not only because he does deserve to choose, but because Alex doesn’t see why he wouldn’t be able to choose in the first place. Alex has a supportive family, he doesn’t know monarchy first hand, he’s used to making decisions regarding his life, and even though he has heard Henry talk about how constricting and controlling monarchy, he didn’t really thought it would be as bad as it actually is. The idea than Henry literally has no decision over his own life (because he doesn’t. If he wants to do something other people have to approve of it. If they don’t approve, he has to deal with it) is crazy to him, because of own different that situation is to his own. His family supports him, he talks and gets along with everyone in his family (immediate family, at least), and the idea than Henry’s life is not only so so different, but than also, is like if it wasn’t his at all, is baffling to him.     

listening to the rain slow to a drizzle

Henry’s feelings calm down, he’s happier, calmer, serene, no longer feelings the same emotions he felt before.   

(These below have nothing to do with fire/water, but I wanted to add them)

Alex exhales a laugh. “Aren’t you gonna ask if I know how to waltz?” 
“No waltzing,” Henry says. “Never cared for it.”

Waltzing is this traditional dance, normally between men and women. Heteronormativity, you could say.

It was expected for him to waltz with Alex in this moment, as something romantic, but he doesn’t cared to follow these unwritten rules. He makes his own rules. He doesn’t cared for monarchy or appearances, this is him choosing a new life and a new start, making his own decisions rather than what’s expected of him, what’s appropriate.   

He removes his hand and there, sitting in the center of Alex’s callused palm, is the signet ring. /// “Keep it,” Henry tells him. “I’m sick of wearing it.”

Henry is sick of having monarchy on him all the time, of wearing the ring, Ich Dien, I serve. When Henry wears it, it means he serves monarchy, he obeys, he gives all of himself to it, he’s part of it. When Alex wears it, is different. Not only Henry giving it to him is a representation of Henry giving away his position, a beginning to Henry fighting for himself, but of Alex wears is, I serve belongs to him now.

Alex doesn’t serve monarchy, he’s not even part of it. Even if Alex and Henry marry (which they do, but Henry abdicates before they do [Henry’s chapter]) Alex is still not welcome inside of monarchy. This is not about Mary, or even Philip, is about monarchy as a concept and what it stands for, and has always stood for. Alex, brown, American, bisexual, Mexican, is not welcomed inside of monarchy, but the ring is not about monarchy being on Alex now.

When the ring was on Henry, it was monarchy, when the ring was given to Alex, it stopped belonging to monarchy itself, and passing to just be Henry’s ring. This is Henry giving a part of himself to Alex. I serve has become not about Henry and monarchy and his country, but about their relationship. Fortifying their relationship, in some way.   

he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. They clink together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side.

Monarchy is Henry’s home, so this can be both of their homes (Alex’s old house, and Henry’s life in the palace) being side by side, or about Alex’s both homes. Again, the ring no longer represents monarchy now it just means Henry, it became Henry’s ring, so Alex here is implying Henry is Alex’s other home, which I believe is the real meaning, what Casey intended.

In chapter 11 there is

If someone like that ever loved me it would set me on fire

Henry thought of himself as incapable of being loved, and the idea of being loved specially by someone like Alex (someone who, in his mind, was the opposite to him—happy, bright, alive) seemed so unreal, than he felt like it would probably set him on fire. Alex was the sun, happy and bright, so full of life he shone. Alex was someone who could be loved. And Henry loved him. And the idea of being loved back by him was impossible. It wasn’t mean to happen, and if it ever happened, it would burn Henry. Because Henry could not hold all of Alex’s form in his hands, since, in his eyes, he did not deserve to hold him, to have him. It would burn him, because Alex was the sun and Henry was nowhere near to deserve him.

This also parallels Alex in chapter 15 describing looking at Henry’s face like staring right into the sun (almost makes Alex want to look away, like he’s staring into the sun. He called Henry the North Star once. That wasn’t bright enough).

Alex describing Henry’s face as looking directly at the sun, parallels this. Alex is describing Henry as the sun, now, Henry is the one who’s bright, happy, and full of life. That’s how Alex sees him vs how Henry’s sees himself. They are each other’s suns. They see each other as the sun, even if the other doesn’t see themselves as the sun. Here, Alex is proving Henry wrong, because Alex’s love is not setting him on fire, since in Alex’s eyes, Henry is the sun, made of fire itself. You can’t burn fire with fire. Henry is fire itself, Henry is made of the same things Henry sees Alex being made of (example: life), he just doesn’t see himself as being made of that, as being worthy of that (example: happiness), and Alex comparing him to the sun proves him wrong, given than that’s how Alex sees Henry, rather than how Henry sees and describes himself.

Meanwhile I said and repeated a hundred times than Alex is fire while Henry is water, this is different, given than this is not based on symbolism, this is a direct parallel.

And if someone like that ever loved me it would set me on fire and the it was like looking straight at the sun are directly connected. The sun is made of fire, and Alex set Henry on fire with his loving. He made a sun out of Henry, changed him for the better.

And there’s also the “He wants to set himself on fire, but he can’t afford for anyone to see him burn” from chapter 12, where Alex just wants to give in to his emotions, to stop tying to hold everything together, but he can’t. He has to keep it together.

[eywaseclipse]

Written in the Stars Chapter 11: The Most Precious Pearl*

Characters: Na’vi oc reader Tani, Jake, Lo’ak, Neteyam, Tuk, Kiri, Ronal, Metkayina clan members 

Synopsis: You and your family are adjusting to your new home, with a few hiccups in the way, you try to acclimate to your new environment and married life. Lo’ak and Neteyam defend Kiri when she gets bullied, you and Jake have a heart to heart and finally mate

Warnings: Finally some sweet lovemaking, 18+ 

Word Count: 4.5k

Ever since your conversation with Ronal, you sensed a deeper yearning for your husband than before. You knew that you could choose one of two options; continue this awkward scared dynamic too afraid to take the plunge to admit your feelings, or venture into that unknown territory together. You had been willing to complete your union the night of your wedding, you could’ve sworn Jake was ready too. You both had a softness in your eyes submitting to the laws of nature, compelled to do whatever you needed for your family and clan. 

But ever since seeking refuge in the reef clan, he has been too busy to share any moments with you. Slowly, a distance between the two of you had formed, an unspoken gap that the two of you fear to admit to one another. There were fleeting moments you could tell Jake was also yearning for more, from small glances, soft touches, quick pecks. You knew he wouldn’t take it any further unless you did something first, so your conversation with Ronal solidified that it is you who must thaw your heart in order to let love guide your actions. 

Today was no different from any other day, you woke up this morning with your back to your husband, feeling the heat radiate from his bigger form. Your family helping with breakfast as they prepare for their new duties as sea people. Neteyam has begun training for his passage hunt that will solidify his place among the Metkayina, so you rarely see him these days. Lo’ak spends most of his time with Tsireya and Kiri, with Tuk tagging along. The friendship between the kids and the chief’s son started out rough when he and his friends decided to pick on Kiri resulting in a fight. But a few months have passed and the kids have overcome their differences and have become close. 

You miss your own friends back home, you haven’t had much time to meet anyone your age here, not that you would find yourself relating to them anyway. You now sit in the Tsahìk’s tent once again, as the two of you ready to harvest more roots and herbs in the mangrove forest. Ronal’s pregnancy is in the halfway stretch, with her belly becoming rounder and more swollen you assist her in anyway you can. 

As you weave through the humid forest, you take in the sounds of the environment, your ears perked to the sounds of the life humming around you. The familiarity making your heart swell with melancholy. 

This forest is much more lush and tropical unlike your dense canopy home, still breeds a comfort that blooms in your belly knowing you can come here when you have moments longing for your old life. “We are here.” Ronal announces interrupting your trance. You look to where you are standing at the bottom of a large mangrove tree, from the looks of it it’s probably close to 100 years old or more. You nod, and set your woven bag down readying your tools to extract the sap from the tree. Carefully watching Ronal demonstrate first, you then ready your tinctures and fill up your jars. 

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you, as you both have found a middle ground in your budding friendship. 

Your bag is now filled with sap, healing berries, roots, and herbs you will hang to dry and mix into a powder. What’s left is to find a salve. “We must go to the glow worm cave to extract the salve, it is just a few clicks North.” You smile and nod your head as you follow the ocean eyed woman. “What part of the glow worm is the healing property?” You inquire. She turns to you as you both keep the same pace, despite her pregnant belly, she remains swift and agile. “I will show you, we must swim beyond the pools and waterfall.” 

You see a beautiful shimmering body of water come into your line of sight, as your Tsahìk hoists her bag to the back of her body, you following suit. You both dip into the water wading towards the water fall, she dives into the water below where the water fall hits the pond, with you following close by. With Ronal’s breathing exercises and daily water training, you can now hold your breath up to 5 minutes. This swim only takes 30 seconds, as you both surface into the cave. The rocky walls are lit with the most alluring shade of bioluminescence you have ever seen. Your own starry face lit from the dim lit environment glows like a galaxy. 

You can’t help the childish smile on your face as you turn your head misty eyed to take everything in. You follow Ronal, climbing out of the water onto a rock clearing. “This cove has been a secret for generations, only Tsahíks and select apprentices have ever bore witness to the cave’s glory.” You gasp at the revelation, suddenly feeling shy that she allowed you to be part of this. You can only find yourself to lightly nod in thanks, and smile to your Tsahík in gratitude. She smiles back, as she reaches into her bag for the tools need for more extractions. 

“Here, take this jar I will show you how to properly care for the worms and take the bioluminescence liquid from them without causing harm.” You watch as she carefully grabs a glow worm, with a metal tool to scrape the goo from its body gently, as you ready the jar for the liquid to fall into. 

Your eyes widen with wonder as she continues extracting the liquid one by one, gently removing and placing the worms back on their rocks. “Here, you try.” You switch positions with her and begin your own extraction, carefully mimicking her and placing the liquid into the jar as she holds it for you. “The nectar of the glow worm possesses a mysterious healing property. 

It will help many wounds such as burns, cuts, and bruises. I use this salve to help post birth mothers heal their bodies. It is also wonderful as a lubricant.” Your head immediately whips to her, with cheeks now burning red. “Oh.” Is all you could muster, her smirk clearly finds humor in your reaction. You continue your extractions for several hours, making sure all your jars are filled to the brim with the healing nectar, as you prepare the jars into the bags to head back. “The return of the Tulkun is next week Tani, I have something I want to show you then as well.” She says softly. You smile, “Okay.” As you both sling the bags onto your backs and dive into the water, you can’t help but wonder why she added that last part to her sentence earlier today about the glow worms.

You bring back the bags into your Tsahík’s tent putting them on her shelfs one by one. She grabs a few jars and puts them in your hands. “Take these in case your family needs them.” You nod and thank her. Both of you begin to grind the herbs into a bowl for future use, then store the mangrove root sap into a dark corner in a basket. “That is for the hunting festival. It will be ready in several months to drink.” Oh. It’s alcohol. You think to yourself. “We are done for the day Tani, you did very well. Take some of these herbs too. You never know when they are needed.” You nod, packing your bag and make your way home, as the sun begins to set for the day. 

You enter your marui, noticing you’re the first one home. You take a happy sigh, and begin to unpack your new herbs and salves putting them on the shelves on your side of the tent. You start humming to yourself, happily swaying your tail back and forth as you now find your bowl of beads and halfway done armbands and necklaces. You started crafting more now that you’re apprenticing the Tsahík, your time no longer spent being a ferocious war general. 

You bring the bowl over to the mats of pillows and begin finishing the pearl and shell necklace you’re making for Jake. You’re more than halfway done so you finish by stringing the opalescent pearls and shells onto the string with the other sea foam green and blue beads. You don’t even notice Jake entering the tent until he says your name. 

You squeal with surprise as he breaks your trance. “Ah! Oh, Jake you scared me.” You laugh with your hand on your chest. He laughs with you, shaking his head. “Sorry Tani, you seemed to be real focused on that necklace.” You hum in response as you finish stringing your last bead. You weave the clasp onto the necklace and look at it with pride, as you stand up to show him your work. 

“I actually made this for you.” Your cheeks begin to flush with shyness as he carefully inspects your work. His big hands caressing the beads softly, “You made this for me?” He asks quietly. Your eyes meet, softly gazing into each other, as you nod your head shyly. “Yes, I spent several weeks finding the pearls and shells that remind me of you. Do you like it?” He smiles so wide his fangs glisten, and eyes crinkle with happiness. “Yeah I like it.” Is all he can muster to say. What he doesn’t say is that his heart is bursting wide open with joy that he fears he might crumble right in front of you. 

“Here, let me.” You say grabbing the necklace to put around his neck. You move behind him, as he grabs his hair to make room for your small hands. You weave it around the back, as he feels your hot breath on his neck sending a delicious shiver down his spine. You feel his tail accidentally brush against your thigh as he happily flicks it with excitement. A rush of electricity now surging through your own body. “There.” You pat his shoulder and walk around him to admire your work. You take in his scrumptious form, the new lifestyle making his body harder, stronger. The water training causing his muscles to fill out even more, his biceps bulging with veins, his thighs impeccably thick, his stomach now forming the abs he said goodbye to in fatherhood. 

You’re practically drooling at your husband, as he takes notice of your clear ogling. He won’t deny he likes his beautiful wife staring at him like he’s desirable. It makes him feel wanted, sexy. He can’t hide the smile on his face as he sees your eyes scanning his figure, his chest instinctively puffs out with pride. “See something you like baby?” He tests the waters with the pet name. Breaking your trance, you bat your lashes several times, with your eyes now peering into his soul, you take a step forward, placing your hand on his shoulder. “I think I do, Sayrìp handsome.” You practically purr into him, your nose nuzzling into his neck. He doesn’t know what has gotten into your sudden change in demeanor, but he does know that you’ve been trying to fill the gap between you two he’s unintentionally created since coming here. His heart aches knowing he has brushed you off as a mate, but maybe this is his second chance, and he’d be damned if he would screw this up again.

His ears perk up in intrigue as you address him, relishing in your sweet touch as you kiss his neck right under his ear. “Jake.” You whimper, “I’m tired of fighting the current between us.” He sighs deeply, knowing that you’ve noticed the distance too. “I know sweetheart, me too.” He cups your jaw lovingly, as you now gaze into each other’s amber eyes. “Maybe we can let this be a fresh start for us Jake. For the kids, for our union.” You say timidly. Jake would be a fool not to take this opportunity to mend both your hearts. He takes a deep breath, and smiles. “I think I’d like that.” 

Finally closing the space between you two, both physical and metaphorical you both bring your lips to join each other. You melt into the warmth of his lips moaning into him. He finds the right moment to sneak his tongue into your mouth, causing an enticing whimper from you. You break the kiss suddenly, now knowing what you must do. “Jake there’s somewhere I want to show you.” His eyes quizzically meet yours, understanding the unspoken desire to now finish what you two started the night of your wedding. Oh. He thinks to himself. “Okay.” He just shyly replies. 

You hastily pack a small mat into your bag, you hoist it over your shoulder. You grab his hand, and make way out of your marui, not wanting to waste a second longer. “What about the kids? They’re gonna be home soon from duties.” You turn your head to him behind you as you drag him along the village, “Tuk told me that Tsireya and the others are taking them to the cove of the ancestors at Eclipse, we have several hours before they’ll be home.” He just shakes his head and chuckles as you lead the way from the village, into the tropical forest. 

The two of you walk in comfortable silence, as you make your way into the thick of the jungle. “Where are you taking me sweetheart?” He laughs. “You’ll see Jake.” As you smile at his eagerness. You finally reach the destination, the small lake with the waterfall you and Ronal visited this morning. The flora and fauna now lighting up the sky as the sun begins to set. Jake’s eyes widen with wonder, as he appreciates the vivid scene in front of him. “Wow.” He huffs. He looks to you admiring the scenery, giving his hand a playful squeeze. “Beautiful isn’t it. And we have a Yovo fruit tree right next to us if we get hungry.” You say excitedly. 

You bring the bag down onto the ground as Jake helps you lay out the mat on the plush surface of the grass. Both of you sitting and enjoying each other’s company. “Would you like to go for a swim?” You ask raising your eyebrows to him. He swears he has gone weak in the knees for you, with that devilish grin on your face melting his jaded heart. He nods, as you begin to unfasten your beaded top. He helps you unclasp the back, as it falls to the ground, with your nipples now hard from the cool night air. His eyes bore into them, just like on your wedding night, only now he knows better than to just ogle. You shimmy out of your loincloth, gently undoing his own as he just stares at you with adoration, his heart begins to thump against his chest loudly like some horny teenager. 

You notice his sudden shy demeanor, “See something you like baby?” With a shit eating grin on your face, he laughs. “Using my own words against me? That’s not playing fair sweetheart.” You laugh, and shake your head, making your way to descend into the water, “Since when does a Sully play fair?” You say with a wink. Goddamnit this woman is a minx.

 He chases you into the water throwing you over his shoulder, both of you filled with déjà vu. You splash him as he sets you down, curling your legs over him once more. Your eyes both filled with such yearning. Without wasting a second more you both crash your lips into each other, filled with urgency and hunger. The passionate kiss sends an indescribable heat in between your legs causing a moan to escape your mouth. You can’t help but rut your hips into Jake’s stomach as he sucks on the bottom of your lip and shoves his tongue into your mouth. Your hands squeeze the back of his head hard, as you seek friction where you need him most. He senses your rapid movements as needing more, and scoops your ass up into his stomach, his own arousal now evident against your skin. 

You moan as you feel his hard bulge press against your hips, now needing more you practically beg him, “Jake, please. I’m ready. I need you.” He relishes in your whiney tone, humping him, needing him. “Okay sweetheart.” He nuzzles his nose into your neck, drowning in your delicious scent. 

He scoops you up, and brings you out of the water, and onto the mat. Your hair sprawled out, and bioluminescent dots make you look so enticing and angelic he practically growls at the sight alone. You sit yourself up, bringing your face to his, kissing him slowly. He cups your face with both hands as you mount him, but it’s not as rushed as a few moments ago. No, you’re savoring every second with your husband, as you moan into the kiss once again. You feel him rub the back of your braid, massaging it lovingly. He’s ready to seal the bond with you for life, as you bring your hand to the back of his. Both of you silently nod, as you watch your tendrils weave into the air desperately seeking union. 

The bond suddenly rips through your entire body, causing a wave of the most intense emotions you have ever experienced in your entire life. Your pupils dilate hugely, causing your amber eyes to be but small rings. You feel the wind knocked out of your lungs as you look to your mate, as he experiences the same effects. You now feel his heartbeat, his breaths, his love for you, his family, the arousal flowing through your veins as if your own. You can’t help but shiver from extreme stimulation. Both of you panting, bring your foreheads together relishing in Tsaheylu. 

Jake now filled with your own desire, also feels the yearning you’ve had for him ever since arriving to sanctuary, the love you have for his children, your home, your people. He feels the pride swell in your chest over the love you have for him, and sexual desire to make him yours. 

The current of electricity coursing through his veins, he brings eyes to meet yours. Both of you now mated for life, breathing the same breaths. “I see you.” He quietly whispers. Tears now forming in your eyes, you smile to your husband. “I see you.” Not wanting to wait any longer, he grabs your face for a burning kiss, his tongue immediately assaulting your mouth once again. 

You instinctively grab his throbbing length, causing a moan to escape his mouth. He litters kisses from your jaw, to your neck, making his way down to your collarbone leaving a trail of wet marks on your blue skin. He lays you down on the mat again, boring into your eyes. I need this man to fuck me now or else I’ll burst! You thought transferred to him. He chuckles, with your eyes going wide with confusion. “Babygirl, the bond makes it so that we can hear each other’s thoughts.” You whimper, “Well you heard me, Jake.” 

He smirks at your desperation. He brings his head down dipping into your breasts, playing with a nipple in his mouth sucking softly. You lift your chest in pleasure as he swirls his tongue around the bud, massaging the other with his free hand. You writhe underneath him from the stimulation as he continues to suck and lick harshly. With a sudden pop, he brings his mouth down to your stomach, a wet trail of kisses leading down your body. “Can I taste you pretty girl?” As he gazes up to your hooded lids completely lost in pleasure. “Yes!” You whine. He swears he might cum from your own arousal alone. He dips his head in between your soft thighs, gripping them with his large hands, as he slowly kisses your legs, inching closer and closer to where your sopping wet heat needs him.

He gingerly licks your swollen bud, causing a long moan to tear into the forest, as you throw your head back in bliss. Never being touched by a man your senses are on overdrive, and being sent straight into your mate as well. He relishes in your euphoria, as he begins to suck a little harshly. You buck your hips into his face as he begins to eat you out like a man starved. Your nectar coating his chin, he’s completely enveloped in your heat.

His animalistic urges take over as he shoves his face harder into your heat, moaning loudly as he dips his tongue into your silky folds. Your hands grip his locs tightly, as you begin to feel a burning sensation your stomach. He gently takes his two fingers and slides them into your pussy, in a come here motion, causing a surge of pleasure to course through your whole body. He feels it instantly, as it goes straight to his length, he restrains himself from his own pleasure as he continues licking your silky pussy drinking every last drop. 

He feels you’re close, by plunging in one more finger quickening his pace to reach your orgasm. Your thighs begin to shake, and vision spots as you scream into the air, “Jake! I’m-cum, I’m coming!” As you soak his face with your juices. He growls into your heat shoving his nose into your throbbing pearl, drinking your nectar as you ride your climax. Your breathing begins to slow as your body heaves, he sits up sucking his fingers of your juices one by one. You can only stare at him in awe. 

Your hooded eyes make contact with his as you slam your mouth into his, tasting your arousal on his wet lips. He moans into the kiss as you grab his throbbing length again, this time pumping it hastily as you feel it jump in your hands. He groans from sudden contact, breaking the kiss. “Sweetheart if you keep doing that, I won’t be able to have my way with you.” His chest now heaving, you feel him refraining to cum right there, as you remove your hand and nod your head. 

He gently grips your waist, as you mount him, your hips hovering his cock. “This might hurt at first, but if it’s too much for you, tell me to stop and I will okay?” He reassures you. All you can do is nod, as you slowly sink onto his length, all 14 inches. Your brows pinch together with a slight pinch of pain from him entering, but the climax he gave you slicked your walls nicely, that he slides into you without any friction.

You sit on his length for a moment, the air in your lungs re entering, as he’s patiently waiting for you to adjust to the new sensation, by caressing your braids softly. You bring your mouth to his, kissing him lightly as you tell him to move his hips through the bond. He gingerly snaps them up, causing you to gasp in pleasure, the pain of your hymen breaking now replaced with pure euphoria. You start to roll your hips excitedly against his, with his pelvis brushing against your already stimulated clit, “Oh!” You squeal. Jake’s ears perked to the sweet sound of your voice as he thrusts his hips to meet yours. “Fuck!” He whimpers into your ear. You two find a delicious rhythm, as your body begins to beg for more. “Jake faster, please, I can handle it.” You moan. “Yeah?” He thumps into your pelvis. “You want it fast babygirl? I’ll give you fast.” 

He takes your hips and flips your body onto your back, spreading your legs wide. This new angle allows him to go much deeper than before, as he slams his hips into your pelvis, balls slap against your skin loudly. “Agh!” You squeal in pleasure, your sweet sounds encouraging him to keep moving. He thumps his hips into yours as you curl your hand to the back of his head slamming a searing kiss into him, as he feels the ecstasy flow from you to him. His cock aching for a release, feels your silky walls tighten on him begging for another orgasm, “Fuck! Babygirl you feel amazing. Fuck I love you!” He huffs into your mouth. Your vision begins to spot again as you whimper into your mate’s mouth, “Agh! I love you too!” 

The sound of your bodies colliding mixed with the squelching of your pussy fills your ears with lewd bliss. The fire in your belly making its way, as Jake takes his hand to rub your swollen bud feverishly. 

He feels you’re close, hell he’s close because he can feel you’re almost there too. “Oh! Jake I’m coming again!” The delicious combination of his relentless rhythm, and your swollen bud being rubbed you swear you see Eywa herself as your climax tears through your entire body causing you to shudder violently. Your pussy clenches down on your mate’s length, causing him to cum right there, his hot seed filling your womb as he grips your face for a searing kiss. The rhythm of your bodies colliding, slow down as you both come down from bliss. He slumps onto your chest, as you feel tears brimming in your eyes. 

He feels your emotion through Tsaheylu, as he brings his head to meet yours in concern, “Hey what is it pretty girl? Why are you crying?” He takes you in his arms as you sniffle lightly. “These are happy tears Jake. I am so happy. We are now mated for life.” You say with the most heartwarming smile he’s ever seen. His emotions begin to get the best of him, as your love for each other gets shared, his own eyes now watering. “Thank you for taking a chance on an old man like me. I know I’m not the easiest to be around, but I will do my best for you and this family Tani.” He whispers into your ear. “I know Jake. I know” 

You embrace each other as a mated pair that evening, relishing in the bond, not once breaking Tsaheylu. You feed each other Yovo fruit and go for several more rounds of love making before you make your way back to your shared home still linked together. You hold hands the entire walk home, walking through the village, some people stare at you knowing what has occurred, with both of your connected kurus being the most obvious clue. They respectfully nod their heads, as you make way to the family marui, to ready dinner, and to be with your family, finally as one.

[velteris]

Frieren timeline

The only timeline available on the wiki isn’t super fleshed out with exact dates and counting backwards etc. So I decided to make my own.

Notes:

1. Spoilers for up to manga ch119 (the most recent at this time)

2. Even if it’s likely just a rough measure (“three hundred years ago”), I’m gonna assume when doing my math that it was exactly 300 years, because otherwise I can’t do most of the math

3. I skip most events that don’t have an exact year, eg Fern and Stark respective being taken in by Heiter and Eisen. I do make some estimates (eg Sein’s birthday, we only know he’s in mid-30s so he can’t have been born any further back than year xx).

4. Standardised year 0 as the year the demon king was defeated

5. Realised about 2/3rds through that I could be writing down chapter citations but at that point it was too late lol sorry

behold!

-3,000: Earliest mentioned date, by Frieren re: dwarf beliefs; most people believed the dead turn to dust, so pre-Goddess. Unclear when Goddess actually starts appearing.

[Emperor Boshaft alive, so is Milliarde, Frieren in village]

-1,000: Frieren becomes Flamme’s apprentice

-950: Flamme passes away*

-510: the last time Frieren fought a demon (quite likely Macht, as in year 80 she says 600 years ago, which would be -520. What’s a decade here and there?)

-420: Frieren restores her golden arm

-422: Aura became one of the seven sages of destruction

-322: the last time Frieren saw another elf, Grandfather Voll starts to protect village

-222: the last time Kraft saw another elf

-120: Fass finds Emperor Boshaft’s alcohol, Gehn starts working on his village’s bridge

-26: Himmel is born

-11?: Hero of the South visits Frieren and dies a year later; tells her she’ll meet Himmel soon**

-10: Hero Party sets out from capital

[Hero Party kills Immortal Bose and pushes back Aura sometime during this period]

-3: Goddess arc (Himmel is 23), Hero Party seals Qual***

0: Demon King defeated, Era Meteors, Macht starts to serve^

2: Denken born

20: Macht is braceleted

28: Continental Magic Association started (at latest), Lernen was first first-class mage

29: Denken came to Auberst with his wife (who died when he was in his twenties); Denken’s wife presumably passed away very soon after

30: last sighting of a Darkness Dragon (per random apothecary); Weis turned to gold and sealed

39: Earliest possible Sein birthday (he would be 40); humanity learns to fly

45: Wirbel born

50: 2nd Era Meteors; Himmel passes away; Aura reappears, demon activity increases in north and baby Wirbel makes promise

61: Stark is born earlier in the year after winter; Fern is born some time after harvest festival but before the last three months of the year

68: Graf Granat’s son dies in war against Aura

69: Sein’s friend Gorilla left

70: Frieren and Fern meet

74: Heiter collapses

75: Stark runs away from Eisen

76: Heiter passes away; Frieren and Fern set out on their journey

76.5: half a year spent looking for blue moonweed

77: Fern turns 16 (after spring, latest autumn)

78: 3+ Months spent at seaside town cleaning beach

79: wintered with Kraft, Stark’s 18th bday (after spring), meet Sein around harvest festival (time is a bit funky since it gets cold and then warm after this?)^^

80: El Dorado arc

81: first chapter after El Dorado. As of ch119, we are here, 31 years after Hero Himmel’s death!

and in the future…

97: Tod’s “curse” will engulf the star?

100: Next meteor shower. Fern and Stark would be 39.

149: Frieren promised to be back at hero’s sword village by this time

1079: Frieren may return to the Continental Mage Association :)

*Assuming she died soon after Frieren’s last shown convo with her where she said “it’s only been 50 years”

**Unclear just when was the Frieren/Hero of the South meeting, so it could technically be anywhere before, but -11 is the most recent it could be

***Frieren says it’s been 80 years in year 77. If she’s being precise then this is the date—but I have doubts as Qual was sealed in the Central Lands, and Hero Party should be well into the Northern Plateau near the goddess monument by this point.

^Technically I think Macht starts to serve a leetle bit before the demon king is defeated, but no time frame given for how long it took Macht and Glück to have those convos

^^To be more precise: they start the year’s winter with Kraft. Then it gets warm, and Stark’s birthday happens. Harvest festivals are usually in autumn, which is when they meet Sein, and then it gets cold enough for the gang to wear their winter gear again, and they spend a winter (or a cold snap?) with Sein. When they get to Auberst they spend an additional two months training with Fern while waiting for the exam to start. But when they finally leave Auberst in ch61, and aren’t wearing their winter clothes anymore, it’s still listed as 29 years post-Himmel death??? There’s a mention of it being because they’re in the volcanic belt… But seriously, year 79 goes on and on. I honestly think the authors just forgot to find a good spot to switch that over lol

[stormingfrost]

Wonders of the Invisible World 

Tags: Body horror, major character death, Implied/Referenced child abuse, original characters, pitch/sandy, Katherine/nightlight

summary: 

Through hundreds of years of strange things happening all over the world, finally someone sees. The Bennett family is now at the forefront of every children's tale - except, now, they learn that these tales are not only real, but much, much darker than they first thought.

For @rotg-halloween day eleven: Transmogrify 

Read it on AO3

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chapter eleven: Transmogrify

under cut

Bunny looked down at the scene in front of him. Margret Overland held the body of her brother, which oddly enough, wasn’t a corpse anymore. Five humans gathered around her. Katherine Salazar sat a short distance away from them, bound with magic and looking unbelievably irritable. Two wolves circled her. 

“You’ll kill him,” she was saying. “I’m sorry but he will die if he doesn’t get a pure soul.” 

Bunny hopped down, shivering from the cold. He landed behind the group, towering over them.

Katherine locked eyes with him. Her eyes widened, a sheepish look painting her face. 

“Excuse me,” Bunny said. The five humans jumped, turning around to face him. 

“Giant bunny,” One of the women said. “Mary.” She nudged the Witch. Mary turned around, looking at Bunny with a grief-stricken expression. 

Just like he’d first met her. 

Bunny knelt, his kilt protecting his legs from the snow. 

“Let me look at him, Mary.” 

Mary held her brother closer to her, maybe on instinct. 

“You’re not going to eat him, are you?” One of the children asked. “You’ve got forward-facing eyes. You’re a predator species.” 

“So are you,” Bunny replied. The boy decided that it was an acceptable answer. 

 Mary hesitantly shifted her brother over to Bunny’s lap. Bunny sifted through his sporran, grabbing an ornate bottle. He lifted the boy’s head, giving him it to drink. 

“That will stabilize the body for a while. We will have to get the others to restore him. I cannot do it myself.” 

“Restore him? You mean Nightlight?” Katherine asked. Bunny regarded her. 

“We’ll see. Why is she-“ 

“She tried to kill the girl in exchange for Nightlight’s life,” Mary said. Bunny looked at Katherine, disbelief making its way through him. Katherine looked down. 

“It was the only way I could help him,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t bear the corpse any longer. I’m sorry.” 

Bunny shook his head, standing up and carrying the boy. 

“We will need to gather everyone together. First, we will need a warmer place.” 

“Katherine, did you happen to see anything?” Shadowbent asked, his fangs in her face, almost teasingly. She winced. 

“Yeah. There’s a cabin we were headed to.” 

Mary and the human witch sent out a message, and the humans watched as he and Mary prepared for the spell. Katherine, less sullen, sat next to the fireplace. 

“I’m sorry about taking Sophie,” she said to one of the women. “I… I’m so sorry.” 

The woman shook her head.

“What’s done is done. Prove you will never do it again and leave us alone.” Katherine nodded. 

Shadowbent wrapped a blanket around the boy. He smiled softly at Mary. 

Bunny looked down at his hands, watching as plants grew around him. New life. Flowers cracked open the wooden floors of the abandoned cabin they were in. 

“You might want to tie him down,” he said. Mary looked up, alarmed. 

“Will it hurt him?” Bunny nodded.

The man whistled. 

“That’s our cue to get the kids out of here, right?” The humans went upstairs. 

Tooth was the first to show up, flying around the boy. Then Sandy and Pitch. North stood outside, his giant eye peeking in, the stars making it seem like the cabin was floating in space.  

“Doesn’t this spell have dire consequences?” Tooth asked. “This will not be good for anyone.”

“If we contain it, then nothing will happen.” 

They circled the table where the boy lay. They pushed it towards the window so that North could join in. 

They interlocked hands, Tooth, and Sandy reaching outside to hold North’s finger. Katherine watched, quiet hope flaming in her eyes. Mary seemed less enthusiastic, dreading the worst. 

“Let’s do this,” she said. 

The spell was simple for what it was. Just a two-word incantation. The power it drew from was the hard part. Sharing the brunt of the spell made it easier, but it still was painful. 

The body on the table woke up. It was unclear who was occupying it, as the only thing that the spell did was send pain into the boy’s mind. The screaming started after a few minutes. The fighting against the bounds started after five.  

Bunny watched as Mary grimaced, grief seeping into everyone else. Katherine hovered around them, a worried look on her face. 

One of them will not be happy with the result. Only one soul would survive. 

Mary closed her eyes, trying to focus on the spell. 

Suddenly, the cabin was gone. They floated, still together. The boy hadn’t stopped his visceral screams. Bunny looked around, dread looming in his stomach. 

They didn’t contain it. They couldn’t stop it. The spell was out of control. 

They pushed forward, repeating the incantation. 

Then they were back in the cabin. The boy stopped screaming, instead lying limp on the table and panting. 

Bunny approached him. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. The boy looked up at him, eyes full of tears. 

“Jack,” he cried. “My name is Jack. Please help me.” 

Mary rushed over, nearly knocking Bunny over. 

“Jack!” 

Katherine stared at them for a moment before walking out of the cabin. 

“We let him out.” 

Bunny turned to Tooth. Pitch scoffed. 

“All that and he returns to be a human.” Sandy elbowed his partner. 

“There’s no going back,” North said from the window. “We cannot stop what will happen.” 

“Maybe they will.” Sandy nodded to the stairs, where the humans peeked at them. 

“They’re the ones who started this mess. It only seems right they end it.” 

They left, leaving as quickly as they came. The boy was of no interest to them anymore. 

Bunny watched as Mary helped Jack up, turning to the humans. 

“This is Jack. He’s my brother.” Jack looked at them. 

“I know you,” he said. “You… you helped me. I think.” He pulled the blanket around him. 

New life. New chances. 

Bunny nodded, seeing his work complete. He tapped on the floor, dropping into a tunnel and leaving them. 

[cultivating-wildflowers]

2024 Reading - October

I didn't set out to read quite so many eerie books this month, but about halfway through the month I gave up and leaned into the theme, partly because I was struggling to really focus on anything--as evidenced by the volume of books read via audio.

Total books: 11  |  New reads: 11  |   2024 TBR completed: 4 (0 DNF) / 33/36 total   |   2024 Reading Goal: 74/100

September | November

potential reading list from October 1st

#1 - The Republic of Pirates : Being the True and Surprising Story of the Caribbean Pirates and the Man Who Brought Them Down by Colin Woodard - 3/5 stars ('24 TBR, audio)

Well-organized as a historical account of a specific time period, and full of detail--perhaps too full at times. The author opens with the intention of focusing on three pirates (Blackbeard, Black Sam Bellamy, and a third whose name I've honestly forgotten) and one man opposed to them (Woodes Rogers). However, the sheer volume of names, dates, historical accounts, and side characters overwhelms any more focused narrative. Woodes Rogers hardly seemed to feature in most of the story, and where he was present, he didn't seem that important to proceedings. Blackbeard and Bellamy both have their time in the spotlight, but then it's back to the jumble with them.

As a sweeping look at the golden age of piracy and even everyday life in the early 18th century in much of the world, it's a decent account (and this is what I went into it seeking). If you want a biography of a specific pirate like Blackbeard or Black Sam or that other guy, or even of Woodes Rogers, it falls somewhat flat.

Note: Probably this would have been easier to follow in printed form; while the narrator for the audiobook is great, there're just so. many. lists. Names, dates, ships, cargoes, places, meetings.... So many.

#2 - Manners and Monsters by Tilly Wallace - 2/5 stars (audio)

This book has three things going for it: 1) Zombies and other supernatural creatures in Regency London; 2) Decent historical accuracy in Regency London; 3) Good pacing.

The negatives are largely rooted in the fact that this book probably thinks it has an enemies-to-lovers arc. It does not. What it has on one side is Wycliff, a whiny, self-important womanizer who is made out as brooding and damaged and only in need of the right woman to tame him. On the other hand, it has Hannah, a woman who is reasonably put off by Wycliff's attitude and lack of basic civility. They only manage to reconcile because she's desperate for male attention (tell me again how poor and plain and unloved you are, please, it's been a whole chapter since the last time) and he decides she's the only woman he's ever met who isn't shallow and prattling and unworthy of his respect as a gentleman.

This is not to say Hannah is blameless. Apart from her fixation on her status as an unmarriageable 22-year-old with good connections, she's just annoyingly inconsistent. One minute she's a wallflower who's just happy to be useful and the next she's the cleverest girl in all of London and no one can touch her.

And then there's the writing, wherein the readers are treated like idiots who can't put together a 10-piece puzzle of a picture of farm animals. All character reasoning was spelled out, all breaks in the murder investigation repeated ad nauseam so we didn't miss them. And any time marriage or men were mentioned, we were reminded that Hannah was going to die alone and unloved, but she was making the best of it. The final reveal about the murderer was the only real twist, and I'd argue that the narration had previously suggested the answer was practically impossible.

Read North and South for a better handling of whatever character dynamic this book tried to present. Read Pride and Prejudice and Zombies if you're here for the supernatural elements in Regency England. Don't read this book.

#3 - The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton - 4/5 stars ('24 TBR, audio)

Wharton's writing is breathtaking. The story itself, exploring the intricacies of high society is 1870's New York, was fascinating. No sympathy for Archer from me, naturally, but I still enjoyed the story as a whole.

#4 - Small Spaces by Katherine Arden - 4/5 stars ('24 TBR, audio)

Ooooo, this was much spookier than I was expected. I don't remember the last MG horror story that had me quietly stressing out like this. (I recommended it to Kenzie before I'd even finished.)

The narrator left much to be desired. Would not recommend the audiobook.

#5 - The Turn of the Screw by Henry James - 5/5 stars (audio)

Ahahahahaha what.

More like this: "Jane Eyre" and (probably; I don't remember it) "Wuthering Heights"; also the beginning (like the first half) reminded me, weirdly, of The Incorrigible Children of Ashton Place. That...did not last.

#6 - The Light Princess by George MacDonald - 3/5 stars (audio)

When I added this short story to my list, I thought it was going to be an extended version of the fairy tale "Little Daylight" that was in At the Back of the North Wind. It's not, but it was still a solid fairy tale I could see myself reading to my nieces when they're older.

#7 - The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman - 4/5 stars ('24 TBR)

So short I feel funny counting it but here we are.

And it's just as creepy as I was expecting.

#8 - The Stone Road by Trent Jamieson - 4/5 stars (audio)

This was gorgeous. Yes, it was helped by the Aussie narrator, but the story itself--the slow and vivid unveiling of their world, the dangers that abound, the quest to conquer those dangers, even the sorrow--was an absolute treat. It's a post-apocalyptic horror driven by hope! So, so easy to fall into. Perfect pacing and a fantastic narrative voice. I was not expecting to love this one like I did. The only reason it doesn't get five stars is because the characterization was a bit odd and felt inconsistent at places, especially with side characters; and a character was introduced very close to the end who didn't seem to serve any purpose at all.

There's also a related novel, actually released several years before The Stone Road, that features the aforementioned character who turns up near the end of this book. I gotta see if I can find a copy.

(Note: Some reviews say this is difficult to read on account of...creative grammatical choices, suggesting it needed polishing. I cannot confirm this.)

More like this: it felt like a blend of "Sabriel" and the Tiffany Aching series of Discworld novels, with a young student learning their dangerous and vital trade at the feet of a respected master. There's something like the inherited necromancy of Sabriel and something like the rich, marrow-deep instinctive magic of Tiffany. Jean isn't exactly like Tiffany or Sabriel in personality, though she is clever and stubborn. It also feels a little like the earlier Earthsea novels, that feeling of watching the legend of a great hero unfold.

#9 - Zero G by Dan Wells - 4/5 stars (audio)

I picked up this audiobook during a promotion on Audible years and years ago and remembered it recently while browsing for something to listen to. A little over 4 hours, MG in space, and a "Z" title? Why not?

Reviews say this is "Home Alone in space". Having never seen "Home Alone", I'll have to take their word for it. It was surprisingly fun either way, with a good balance of sci-fi, danger, and comedy. Definitely something I'd recommend to kids in the right audience age range.

More like this: It felt a bit like "The Last Cuentista" but leaning into the levity more than the horror that surrounds "Cuentista".

#10 - Witches Abroad by Terry Pratchett - 4/5 stars

Good as ever. Granny's a Top Five Discworld character for me, and I love her dynamic with Nanny and Magrat.

And Greebo.

#11 - The Haunting of Hill House by Shirley Jackson (audio) - 5/5 stars

Predictably chilling. I loved the build-up. We know the house is haunted. We know it is dangerous. But it's still terrifying.

DNF:

The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Protection from the Living Dead by Max Brooks - Fun concept but bland delivery. I was hoping for a smidge of a narrative throughline.

Zeroboxer by Fonda Lee - Admittedly a desperate attempt to get that "Z" title. Had potential until the MC's hormones took the wheel halfway through.

The Sisters of Straygarden Place by Haley Chewins - Fluffy writing full of weird metaphors and similes for every description. It bogged down the pacing big time.

Blindsight by Peter Watts - Picked a book at random from my TBR to listen to, got 15% of the way in, and decided I had no idea what was happening and no interest in continuing. Possibly this would have been easier to follow in print form? Confusing all around. Also very weird about autism.

The Lighthouse at the End of the World by Jules Verne, translated by William Butcher - I've read and enjoyed other works by Verne, but this one was an absolute slog. Not sure if it's down to the translation or the fact that the story was edited and published posthumously. I will say the edition I picked up would be a treat for someone wanting to come at this from more of a research angle. There are extensive notes about translation choices, notes Verne left in his manuscript, and a lot of "Verne said this in the text, but in the real world this makes absolutely no sense", which was lots of fun. (Note: This was my 40th DNF of the year....)

Currently Reading:

Lords and Ladies by Terry Pratchett - I'm about two-thirds of the way through this one. I tried so hard to finish it by the end of the month but didn't quite manage it.

Etiquette and Espionage by Gail Carriger - Just started this one and I'm loving it so far!

[mammameesh]

12 days of fandom

Merry Christmas (Eve) my friends! I've been very busy, but I still wanted to participate so enjoy my 12 days of Christmas all at once!

In No Particular order:

Noble Beloved by AWorldOfDreams @a-noble-dragon

from the author : Schitt's Creek has a secret. And it's a rather large one. David's not at all pleased that this secret involves him, becoming a Dragon Liaison Officer. Because Dragons don't exist... right?

2.

Marcy's Girls by Turkey_Virgin @tyfinn

from the author: Marcy is left alone with Alexis and Stevie after David has to pick Patrick up from a vendor run. Alexis and Stevie both turn to Marcy for relationship advice, and Marcy finds herself to be a substitute mother to the girls.

3.

Marcy's Innocent Questions by Characterassassination @characterassassination-at-9am

from the author:

A series of chapters wherein Marcy Brewer, mom extraordinaire, is a little naïve about Patrick and David's relationship, and maybe gay relationships in general? "Queer things" in general? Not sure where this one's going to go, but I love Marcy and I love embarrassing her and Patrick a just a touch....so we'll see. I just thought it'd be a fun idea to explore.

4.

Apricity by Demora00 @demora00

from the author: “‘ – advised by the Council that in a bid for reconciliation, any members who cannot prove significant and meaningful attachments in North America within 60 days are to return to their originating nation.’"

5.

Conversion (Part One) by Obsessedwithdavrick @obsessedwithdavrick

from the author:

Patrick Brewer had grown up within the confines of the Catholic church.

He was baptised in the nave of the St Celeste church, received his first holy communion in tandem with his cousins and attended the small primary school adjacent to it until he was old enough for high school. He then joined his cousins and the other children of the town, travelling thirty minutes by bus to Ingleside to attend the Catholic high school, where the cohorts were split by gender.

When he wins a coveted Baseball Scholarship to play and study at the University of Toronto, he is matched with an enigmatic roommate, David Rose. David upends Patrick's life (in the best possible way) and takes him on a journey of self-discovery he hadn't realised he desperately needed.

6.

Everything's Too Cold... But You're So Hot by ApothecaRose @apothecarose

from the author:

When David's ex, Sebastien Raine, unexpectedly shows up in Schitt's Creek, David enlists the help of a stranger on the street to pretend to be his boyfriend in an attempt to get rid of Sebastien.

7.

102 Words by RamonaFlow @ramonaflow

from the author: This is a collection of 102 ficlets consisting of 102 words each using this prompt list

8.

[Art] Painted Pride by lizzie_bennetdarcy @lizzie-bennetdarcy

from the author:

David and Patrick paint themselves for Pride

9.

dinner by flowertrigger @flowertrigger

from the author:

Patrick’s parted lips are as shiny as the glazed ham Marcy pulled from the oven twenty minutes ago and looking just as delicious.

10.

Won’t Love Anyone Else Like I Love You by LikeItsAllInfinite @like-its-all-infinite

from the author:

David Rose is about to turn eighteen and his whole world is going to change when he swaps bodies with his soulmate. Patrick is here to help, but what will David do when he wakes up and Patrick isn't his soulmate? And how will he tell his soulmate he can only ever love Patrick?

11.

Hydrate. Caffeinate. Medicate. Repeat. by coffee_and_glitter @fictasticvoyage

from the author:

Patrick starts meditation to help with his mental health. He and David try a 30 day challenge to focus on their mental well-being, sometimes individually, sometimes together.

12.

It's Photoshop. by jesuisici33 9-1-1: Lone Star (TV 2020)  @jesuisici33

from the author:

TK meets a friend who also likes bearded dragons. And Carlos' secret comes out.

[pisupsala]

Of All The Stars in The Sky | 1 | Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw

Summary | War looks different from high above in the sky. But when Bradley finds himself on the ground, far behind enemy lines, it becomes a race against the clock to get out. And try not to look back at what he’s leaving behind.

Pairing | Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!reader / Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x fem!oc (no use of y/n)

Warnings | Mature content | 18+ only [WWII AU] swearing, war, violence, death, explicit smut

Words | 3.8k

Index | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17

Library

Note | There will be some darker, heavier themes in this story as it’s set in occupied territory during WWII, so please, keep that in mind before reading. It also takes some artistic liberties with some historical facts, so again, please: proceed at your own discretion.

Chapter 1 - A Land Possessed By Darkness

The rumble overhead wakes you up. As it rapidly closes in, it shakes the cabin on its wooden foundation. You press your hands over your ears as you curl up in your bed, hiding under the thick feather comforter and closing your eyes, praying that it’s not the sky falling down on you.

The sound becomes deafening—it’s like a freight train running through the bedroom. You’re not sure if the tremors moving through the wooden structure are coming from the sky or if your body is uncontrollably shaking. 

As rapidly as the sound comes, it moves away. It’s going east. You open your eyes just in time to see a short, intense flicker of flames, on what must be the mountain face across the valley. Whatever it was, it is gone. And you’re still here. You press your lips together, clenching your jaw, trying to steady your panicked breaths.

Terrified to move from your spot in bed, you watch the distant flames through the small bedroom window, the only light source in the pitch-black night. 

It’s a moonless night during mandatory blackout—prime time for Allied night raids. Nazi night fighters patrol the sky for Allied sorties of bombers and fighters that rain fire and devastation on factories and infrastructure in the Reich and the lands it occupies. Sometimes you hear the guns and screaming plane engines echo through the valley. Dog fights, they call it.

In the capital, you rarely hear the planes. The air raid sirens and anti-aircraft artillery fire drown everything out. Someone once told you that bombs whistle as they fall. A warning before impact. A warning before almost certain death. 

You’ve never heard it, and in your heart of hearts, you hope you never will.

But here out in the mountains, far to the north of the capital, Allied sorties run the gauntlet at low altitude through the valley to reach the weapon factories and mines nestled in the foothills.

It must have been a plane crashing. You idly wonder if it was Luftwaffe or Allied. 

Whichever it is, thank god it didn’t crash near you. The last thing you need is the police or gendarmes coming to poke around here. Let alone the Gestapo. 

All you need to do is sit tight for a few days until the others arrive, take the package, and go. You don’t need any trouble. You have enough of that already.

So you turn in your bed, wrapping the thick comforter around you tightly. It’s bitingly cold in the cabin, but you can’t light a fire for fear of attracting unwanted attention. 

Just a few more days.

Curling up, you fall back into a fitful sleep. It’s mere hours later when the break of dawn wakes you. As you sit up in the bed, something in the air feels different. Like things have suddenly shifted out of order. It makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

Something has changed.

And you don’t like it.

Quietly, you shrug your knee-length, thinning wool winter coat over your cotton nightgown. There is no sound in the cabin, not even the scurrying of mice. The cold from the floor rises through your lumpy knitted socks as you reach for the handgun on the nightstand. The metal is freezing cold against the palm of your hand. Undoing the safety, you tighten your grip on the gun.

Some might call you paranoid. Hell, if someone told you five years ago that one day you’d be creeping through a remote cabin in the dead of winter with a loaded handgun, you would have laughed at them and turned back to your books.

War changes people. 

You’ve seen an army goose step through your street, you’ve seen them force the universities to close, you’ve seen your unarmed classmates get shot in the back in broad daylight, your neighbors lifted out of their beds and spirited away in the dead of night by men in black uniforms, all the symbols of your homeland torn down and covered in blood-red Hakenkreuz flags. 

So yeah, maybe you’re paranoid. But if anything, you’ve learned to trust your gut. You’re still here. And if you’re about to die, you’re going down fighting. And you’ll take as many Nazis and traitors with you as you can, you think bravely, as you let out a shuddering breath.

Tiptoeing to the bedroom door, you nudge it open, peeking into the main room of the cabin. The windows are frosted over, refracting what little sunlight is coming in. 

It’s empty. As it should be.

But it doesn’t calm you. Cautiously you walk around the small room. The large wood stove is cold and unused, the heavy wooden chairs at the table stand exactly as you left them. 

Nothing out of the ordinary. But if anything, you are even more convinced now that something is wrong. Your heart is beating in your throat. Crouching down near the window next to the front door, you try to peer out. Fresh snow fell last night, and there is no trace of life.

Less than fifty paces from the cabin is a small barn that once housed chickens and a cow. Like the owners of the cabin, those are long gone. 

No. Going outside and leaving tracks in the snow is an awful idea. That’s how you get discovered.

You don’t need any trouble.

Moving closer to the window, you blow against the pane, wiping away the frost with your fingers. It’s a dreary day, the sun fighting to get over the heavy clouds rolling by. The wind is picking up, blowing flurries of snow past the cabin.

If you go now, your tracks will disappear within an hour, tops.

And surely nobody is stupid enough to come up the mountain in this weather?

Hurriedly, you pull your leather boots on, button up your coat, and wrap a thick scarf around your neck and shoulders. You leave the handgun on the table, opting for the bolt action rifle that is leaning against the wall next to the fireplace. If there’s an animal, Nazi or otherwise, prowling around outside, the handgun will do you little good.

Unbolting the front door, the cold wind hits you in the face immediately. You pull your scarf up a little bit higher, clicking the door closed behind you. Trudging through the snow, your feet sinking into the fresh layer with every step, your palms start to sweat despite the biting cold against them.

Maybe you should have barricaded yourself in the bedroom with what little provisions you have and wait. Wait in terror. Like a coward. But you are not a coward, you chide yourself.

The barn door is hanging crooked off its hinges. Hands tightening on the rifle, you crouch down to look through the crack at the bottom. It’s too dark to see in. Shit.

You try to remember what Emil told you. Always go in barrel first. Pushing the heavy barn door open with your shoulder, the wood scrapes against the stone floor obnoxiously. You hold the rifle at the ready, slowly turning to scan the inside, prepared to be attacked from the darkness.

It smells like hay and mold inside. The coops along the wall sit empty. Gingerly you step inside, trying to level your heavy breathing. Sweat is prickling down your neck, your stomach twisting painfully. Whatever is wrong, it’s here. Someone is here.

The only source of light is coming from the door opening behind you, the weak sunlight reflecting off the snow. It bathes the barn in an almost ghostly light. You falter before taking another step, hoping your eyes will adjust to the dimness. Swallowing heavily, you take a step. The sound of the heel of your boot against the stone floor is like a bullet ricocheting. 

You stop, turning on your heel slowly, taking in your surroundings, rifle fire-ready. 

Nothing.

Not even a whine from the wind outside.

The only sound in the barn is your rapid breathing. You need to calm down. Remember what Emil taught you: breathing like this, the barrel moving wildly with every rise and fall of your chest, you won’t hit a hog in the broadside from two paces. 

Steady. 

You take another step. 

Still nothing. 

Carefully, threading lightly, you make your way to the back of the barn. With every step, you can make out new shapes. Nothing out of the ordinary for an abandoned barn. A rusted trough that has buckled on one side, a horseshoe hanging from a nail, a pair of large leather boots, and a pile of old hay.

Blinking slowly, you turn back to the brown leather boots on the floor. 

There are legs in those leather boots sticking out from behind the big coop in the corner. 

Holding your breath, you approach. 

Shit. 

There is a whole man attached to those legs that are wearing those boots.

You yelp, almost falling backward as your boots, slippery from the snow stuck to them, slip on the floor in your frenzy. Your back hits the wall with a thud, and you scramble to take aim. 

You hold your breath for so long you think your lungs might burst.

The man doesn’t stir.

Lowering the rifle just a fraction, you try to take a better look, adrenaline screaming through your veins.

The man’s face is bloody, covered in cuts. He’s wearing a thick dark brown leather jacket and matching gloves. His back is leaning against the wall, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, head lolled to the side at an awkward angle.

He has dark messy curls and a neatly kept mustache, while his hands are rest on his legs like he just sat down to admire the scenery. But the shine of his boots and the light khaki of his pants scream military. However, you’ve never seen a uniform like this before—the thick leather jacket and helmet and goggles discarded at his side make you think he’s probably a pilot, but there is no visible flag or insignia. 

Was he in that crash last night?

Is he… dead?

At this moment, you have a hard time comprehending what could be worse: a uniformed stranger suddenly showing up at your remote cabin, or a fucking corpse in military gear suddenly materializing in your abandoned barn.

Either way, it’s a huge problem.

Like a “you will be executed for treason” kind of problem. If not having a dead Nazi on your hands, then for harboring a fugitive.

You curse under your breath, leaning back again the wall, almost wishing you could vanish through it. What the fuck are you supposed to do now? 

Think. 

Every problem has a solution you just haven’t found yet.

Okay. You need to check if he’s dead or alive. But how?

Slowly tiptoeing closer, rifle aimed at the stranger’s chest, you try your hardest to discern if he’s breathing. In the dim light and through the thick jacket, you cannot see any movement.

You hold your breath again as you try to nudge the jacket open with the end of the barrel, but the zipper is too sturdy. Exhaling quietly, you let go of the rifle with one hand as you crouch down.  

Biting your lip, you reach out. You feel as if might as well be extending your hand into a lion’s den. Swallowing another breath, your fingers brush against the ice-cold metal of the zipper. You lean a little bit more forward, grasping it lightly between your fingertips. You tug lightly, but it won’t budge. 

Nervousness is setting in now. You are suddenly all too aware of the passing of time, and the longer you sit here, the more dangerous it gets. What will you even do when you find out the stranger is dead? The ground is frozen solid, so burying is out of the question. What will you do if he’s alive? Kill him? That brings you back to problem A.

Still crouched down, you awkwardly shuffle forward again, your boots scraping against the stone. Precariously balancing your weight on your toes, you extend your palm up. You try not to think about that if you can reach the stranger, he can reach you too.

Your hand hovers mere centimeters from his mouth now. You sit frozen in place, other hand clenching the rifle so tightly, it’s turning your knuckles white. For an unnaturally long time, you sit in surreal silence, unmoving.

Until you feel it: the smallest brush of warm breath ghosting over your clammy palm.

You let out a small sigh, neither in relief nor dejection, because you have no idea how to feel about this. The stranger is alive.  

Your feet are starting to hurt, the harsh knitted pattern of your socks pressing tightly against the pad of your toes. Quietly trying to shuffle backwards again, pins and needles surge through the arch of your left foot the moment you take your weight off it. Swaying lightly forward, you press your foot back down forcefully despite the pain, to stop your momentum.

If you can reach him, he can reach you.

Get. Out.

Moving a little bit too quickly in your rising panic, a little bit too uncoordinated in your sudden rush, in a fleeting moment, your fingers brush against the stranger’s cheek. His skin is warm. A day-old stubble tickles against the tops of your digits.

Retracting your hand like you’ve been burned, your heart is beating so loudly it makes your breath shake. Terrified, you look up, only to see a pair of brown eyes looking back at you.

A high-pitched, strangled sound escapes you as you nearly fall on your ass in the mad scramble to get back. You don’t think you’ve ever moved so quickly in your life back to a safe distance, ignoring the screaming pain in your foot as blood rushes back to it, getting into firing position. 

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, an eerie calm besets you. 

Focus.

The stranger seems dazed, blinking rapidly as he tries to get his bearings. Finally, his eyes land on you. You grip the rifle a little tighter and adjust your aim. It takes him a good ten seconds to process what is happening, before he lets out a surprised yell, eyes wide, struggling to get up on his feet, back flush against the wall.

You keep yourself from flinching, merely jerking the barrel up shortly.

The stranger raises his hands in surrender, eyes dancing around the room cautiously before resting on you.

Bradley has vague memories at best of how he ended up on a freezing floor in a barn, face stinging from fresh wounds and rifle aimed at his head.

The night hunter he had been pursuing gave him the turn-around, hailing incendiary bullets down on his aircraft from the pitch black darkness. Ejecting was the only possible escape. The howling westerly wind carried his parachute in disorientating patterns on the moonless night. 

After that, he remembers only bits and pieces. A thick pine forest. Deep snow. Biting cold. Pain. Blood.

It was pure luck he found shelter. He didn’t even want to consider the irony of finding a coop in whichever middle of nowhere he landed.

Unfortunately, it’s not as abandoned as he hoped.

There’s nothing in his vicinity that could be of any help. If he tries to reach of his side arm—does even still have that? — you are bound to outgun him. His vision is going in and out of focus, head pounding. No, the odds are definitely against him right now.

Blinking a few more times, he focuses on your face. You have an air of youthfulness around you—from the slight blush on the apples of your cheeks, to the wisps of hair freely flying around your face. It’s all in stark contrast to the hardened look in your eye.

“Luftwaffe?” Your tone is clipped, mouth set in a hard line. Bradley swallows. He has no idea where he is. Flying between the borderlands, there is two out of three chance he’s not in Germany. However, from your cold tone and demeanor, he can’t tell if being Luftwaffe would be a bad thing or not. It’s not like he speaks German, so he can’t exactly talk himself out of this predicament.

“No, American.” He utters carefully, aware that those might be his last words on this godforsaken earth. Your eyebrows rise, but you don’t shoot him. Good. His luck might actually be turning a little bit. He waits for another reaction from you. 

But you’re staring at him with narrowed eyes, rifle not moving an inch. Bradley weighs his options. Maybe you don’t speak English. 

It hasn’t escaped his notice you haven’t called for help, either. Are you alone here? You must be. A scrap of a girl like you surely wouldn’t hold a man like him at gun point by yourself if you had back up. However, you still have not shot him either. 

“I’m lieutenant -,” He stops himself. He shouldn’t tell you his whole name, just on the off chance you are going to hand him over to authorities. Because even on the off chance that he didn’t crash in Germany itself, the surrounding countries are under Nazi occupation. There are few friends to be had in these regions.

“Rooster.” He points at himself with one hand, keeping the other up, conjuring a charming smile on his face to the best of his ability while staring down the barrel of a loaded rifle. 

“What a stupid name.” You bite out incredulously, unable to help yourself. 

Is he concussed, or actually American? 

Or is he a Nazi pretending to be American to throw you off? What kind of name is Rooster?

You take a step forward, pointing the rifle at the man’s chest. You cannot afford to miss if he’s lying.

Bradley would laugh if you weren’t holding him at gunpoint. But you speak English. That’s a point to his advantage. His grin grows a bit.

“Good, so you speak English?” He nods at you.

“I’m not stupid.”

Bradley takes another moment to study you. Clearly, you know your way around a rifle. Your stance is steady. Confident event. But the minute tremor in your hand, ever so lightly shaking the barrel, gives you away. If it wasn’t mere inches from his face, Bradley probably wouldn’t have noticed, but it’s your tell. 

You’ve never shot a man. 

Your clipped tone, careful pronunciation, and the little crease between your eyebrows as you stare him down are suddenly more endearing than intimidating. Sure, you still have a loaded rifle in your hands aimed at his chest, but Bradley likes his odds more by the second.

Slowly, he starts lowering his arms, keeping his eyes trained on you for any movement. His chest and shoulders are killing him.

“What are you doing?” You bite out angrily. What the fuck? Does he have a death wish? You shift on your feet.

Bradley shrugs, not stopping his motion. 

“Don’t do anything rash now, doll face.” He starts, voice warm and friendly, easy smile on his face. There’s a whiff of arrogance around him. “I’m just getting a cigarette.”

God, Bradley does certainly hope you don’t suddenly panic and squeeze the trigger. He needs to get you to put that rifle down.

“What did you just call me?” Your voice is harsh. Bradley just holds up his hand in apology before dipping inside his jacket, not taking his eyes off you. Your nostrils flare, whether from anger or panic, Bradley doesn’t know. But he probably needs to dial it back a little bit.

He pulls out a somewhat crushed pack of Lucky Strike’s out. He shows them to you, smiling. Your expression remains unchanged. 

Pulling off the thick leather glove from his right hand, Bradley flexes his fingers before also pulling off the silk under glove too. With a firm tap against the bottom of the carton, he pulls the cigarette sticking out with his lips. He taps it again, before extending his arm to you.

“Do you want one, doll face?” He grins. “They’re real American.”

“Don’t call me that.” Your eyes narrow, quickly flashing toward the cigarettes before settling back on the stranger that calls himself lieutenant Rooster. Ridiculous. 

You don’t know how, but the situation is slipping away from you. Short of shooting the man, you have no idea how to regain the upper hand. How is it that you’re the one with the rifle, and he’s running circles around you? Are you that transparent?

“So what do I call you then?” Bradley fishes out a box of matches. “I just want to talk.” He adds lightly, like he’s just sat down at your table at a café rather than having a one-sided standoff. 

You hesitate for a moment too long. His eyes flash up to yours. You’re starting to feel cornered.  

“Anna.” 

“Your English is very good, Anna.” He says not unkindly, as he lights the cigarette with practiced ease. “Where did you learn that?”

“What are you doing here?” You cut him off, not liking how there is panic creeping into your voice. You readjust your stance. Calm. 

“Well, Anna, I don’t actually know where here is.” Bradley exhales deeply, a billow of smoke filling the air between you. You don’t like how he keeps repeating your name, it’s raising the hairs on the back of your neck. It’s such a small thing, but it’s unsettling. 

You’ve heard that’s what they do in interrogations. To build trust. To make you weak. 

Your mouth twists.

“Are you really American?” You ask rather than answering his question. You’re not going to let him interrogate you.

“As apple pie.” He replies easily, demeanor relaxed.

“Air force?”

“Navy.” 

“You are a long way away from the sea, lieutenant Rooster.” You retort sarcastically. Nothing about what he says makes sense. It’s so strange that it’s either a bizarre truth, the worst lie ever told, or he’s trying to purposefully to lead you astray. Or he’s completely lost the plot. “Are you concussed?”

“Probably.” He shrugs, cigarette precariously hanging from his lips. “So are you going to let me in on how far away from the sea I am, Anna?” 

You falter a little bit under his sharp gaze. “You’re in Bohemia.” 

“Fuck.” Bradley shuts his eyes in defeat, leaning his head back against the cold wall.

You don’t begrudge him for his reaction. The Protectorate of Bohemia and Moravia is possibly the worst place for an Allied pilot to get stranded besides Germany itself. Being completely annexed into the Reich means everyone is a subject of the Nazi regime in Berlin.

It also means this situation is about as dangerous for you, if not more. Being considered a citizen of the Reich—very much against your will—means that you will be tried for treason in Berlin if you get caught aiding and abetting an enemy combatant.

Treason trials against resistance members from Bohemia and Moravia end in one way: execution. Only for you if you’re lucky. Your whole family can be summarily shot in extra-judicial retaliation. 

Entire family trees have been wiped out like that in the past four years.

“I think I’ll have that cigarette now.” You admit wearily, the reality of the situation setting down on you.

***

Note | Yep, this is the start of the story that kept me up half the night earlier this week. Let's hope it's going to be as good as it was in my head, haha! Also, because it bears repeating: this is not a history lesson, it's a love story. Enjoy it for what it is~

My tag list is open~ If you're already on my tag list, and this is just totally not your jam, send me a message and I'll ofc take you off it for this story.

taglist | @ponyboys-sunsets | @thatchickwiththecamera | @littlewhiterose | @katieshook02 | @straightforwardly | @zazzysseoul | @rororo06 | @datingbtr | @notalxx | @fresh-new-yoik-watah | @gretagerwigsmuse  | @swthxrry | @joshkiskasbunion | @caelipartem | @blackbrownie | @yanak324 | @unluckymonaghan | @letusbewildflowers | @ticklish-leafy-plant | @alana4610 | @eg-dr3amer3 | @turningtoclown | @mell-bell | @mak-32 | @avis15 | @helplesslydevoted | @benhardysdrumstick | @chaoticversion | @cherrycola27 | @roosterschanelslut | @notroosterbradshaw | @eli2447

[sixpennydame]

Fanfic writer interview

Thanks for tagging me @this-is-krikkit 😊 It was fun to think on this since it’s my 2-year Tumblrversary.

How many works do you have on AO3?

Seven

What’s your total AO3 word count?

137,589

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes

5. Heart.Strings. - 1/1 chapters

A Levi x violin player!reader fic that was one of my first one shots. Also one of my first forays into smut writing hehe.

4. dark side of the moon - 2/? chapters

My newest levi x reader fic set in a cyberpunk world where Levi is a yakuza and Reader is a nightclub hostess. Only two chapters of this are out, but I’m hoping to get back at it soon!

3. North Star - 11/24 chapters

My beloved postwar!Levi x OC multichapter fic. It’s been on hiatus for a bit with a half-written new chapter but this story is never far from my mind. Time to work on it again, I think.

2. The Better Man - 9/9 chapters

An indulgent, angst-filled fic featuring a love triangle with Levi and his married ex-lover from the Underground. This one is dramatic and was so so fun to write.

1. Make.Believe. - 3/3 chapters

An AoT actor AU fic with actor!Levi x new actress!reader. What would you do if your first sex scene as an actress was with Levi Ackerman?

Tagging: @amywritesthings @littlerequiem @fromthechaoticmind @urbandeity @mrsackermannx @h0neylevi and any other a03 mutual that wants to join in!

[fizzyxcustard]

Covert Eyes (21)

Prologue| Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6| Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Spooks

Pairings: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warnings: Stalking behaviour, anxiety, language, sexual references, angst, smut, heartbreak, gunshot wounds and recovery, abduction, hostage situation.

Summary: Lucas takes notice of a young woman, Amy, but his obsession and want to get to know her begin to spiral out of control. Amy is now working for MI-5, after being recruited by Ros. But will her involvement with Lucas cause even more problems and heartbreak?

Official soundtrack list:  here

Comments/Notes: If you wish to be tagged in any of my tag lists for fics or characters, please let me know, and stipulate what you want to be tagged in.

The first day back was quiet, slow and fairly uneventful. Amy remained with Tariq, scouring CCTV footage from a new case that had landed on the main desk of section D. Lucas was in a three hour meeting with Ros, Jo and Harry, discussing the Robert Spiller case. 

“Lunch time in a bit,” Amy said, swivelling on her chair, in her usual child-like manner.

“You are obsessed with food,” Tariq chuckled. “Are you sure Lucas feeds you enough at home?” 

“I know my priorities, and food is one of them.” With that, Amy opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out a Mars bar from a multi pack. “Want one?” 

Tariq chuckled again. “Go on, then. I was supposed to be starting back at the gym tonight. Looks like I’ll have to forego another day.” 

“Come on, one chocolate bar won’t hurt you.” 

Once Lucas’ meeting was finished, he dashed out of the room and over to Amy’s desk. He perched on the table next to her, looking down as she smiled up at him from her chair. His heart filled with so much love for her, that he knew he’d never felt anything like this before. Whenever her large, green eyes focused on him, he found himself dissociating from the world around him. He reached out and took her hand, holding it for a few seconds, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. Then his thumb grazed her engagement ring. 

“I’m going to be home late tonight,” Lucas said. “I’ve got a fair bit to do on Spiller, and Harry’s asked me to brief the Midlands team who are going out tonight on surveillance. Will you be okay going home on your own?” 

“Of course I will. I’m a big girl, after all.” 

Lucas sighed. “Aim, I just worry, that’s all.” 

“Come on, let’s go and grab something to eat. I think I’ve driven Tariq mad keep talking about food.” 

“You’ve got that right!” Tariq’s playful voice came from across the room as he walked away, ready to make another mug of coffee. 

***

Amy left the office around 5:15pm that evening with Tariq and Ruth. All three of them ventured out into the cold air, pulling their scarves and gloves on tighter. They separated, going in different directions. Amy continued on towards Lambeth Bridge, crossing over it, weaving between fellow commuters and tourists. The sky was pitch black and littered with silver stars, as if someone had thrown glitter against a silk backdrop. 

Amy took her phone from her pocket and saw a new message from Lucas. 

Be safe. I love you. Xxx

Whenever he said or wrote those words ‘I love you’, Amy still felt a slight pang of disbelief amongst her excitement. Thankfully, that voice which had always boldly told her she would never be enough, was gradually turning into a whisper. 

She looked out across the river at the London Eye, watching the colours change. One day she would come out early, grab a coffee, and sit down at the riverside and draw it; she’d already planned it all in her mind. Maybe even draw Big Ben and Parliament. Amy had always liked coming out into London when it was early and few people were yet roaming the street. She felt comfortable and safe, being more alone and less likely to be disturbed. 

***

Lucas took the underground back to his and Amy’s flat. For the duration of the journey, Lucas flicked through photos of himself and Amy. A few of them were from New Year up in Coventry, with Amy’s brother in law and nephew photobombing in the background of one, and in another, Amy’s dad had been caught to the side, his eyes closed and his mouth puckered, just ready to take a sip of beer: not the most flattering of poses. His favourite was still a photo of them snuggled up on the sofa together, Amy with her head on his shoulder, grinning childishly. They’d only been together two months or so when he took this photo, and already they both looked happy. 

It was around seven weeks away from their one year anniversary, and Lucas had begun thinking of gift ideas. He had already brought her jewellery for Christmas. And Amy’s birthday was also approaching, being the last day of January. Lucas had been taking mental notes of items Amy had mentioned, like a pair of tartan Converse she been eyeing on their last shopping trip. Then there was Valentine’s Day! It was all coming together in one swoop. However, Amy’s training was due to start the second week of February, so Valentine’s and their anniversary would need to be celebrated over their available weekends. 

It had been strange that she had not text him that evening since leaving Thames House. Normally if one of them was in the office and the other at home, they would text back and forth. Their texts were usually about what meals were planned for dinner and what film they would be watching, with some playful banter in between. 

Upon the walk from the underground station to their street, Lucas checked his phone. No new messages. 

Maybe she had been tired and went for a nap ahead of him returning home. Possibly? But doubtful. It was rare, if not completely out of character, for Amy to not text him while they were apart. 

As Lucas turned his key in the lock and opened the door to the flat, he was surprised to see that no lights were on. Normally if Lucas returned and Amy was already there, she would leave a lamp on in the hallway, which cast a faint light through into the kitchen and dining area. 

Immediately he sensed that something was amiss. It was just past eleven at night, so Amy was probably in bed, either reading, scrolling on her phone, or sleeping. 

Lucas went to the bedroom. Dark and empty. 

He called her name and stepped into the bathroom. Nothing. 

Lucas took his phone from his pocket and found Amy’s number and called. 

“The person you are calling is not available…”

Lucas growled and then called Harry. 

“Lucas? Is everything alright?” Harry Pearce’s professional yet concerned voice came. 

“Have you requested Amy go back in?” 

“No, why?” 

“She’s not at home. All the lights were off and she hasn’t told me she’s going anywhere, which isn’t like her.” 

“Maybe she’s met up with a friend. There are many reasons she might not be home. Try not to worry.” 

“Thanks, Harry,” Lucas said, sighing in frustration. He knew her. Amy would never have left the flat without leaving the lamp on, and certainly would never have disappeared so late and not told him. Even if she had bumped into a friend on the way home, for instance, she would have still text Lucas to let him know she would be late returning home. 

The only other person who Lucas could think of who might have seen her was Debbie from her old work place. But Lucas didn’t have her number to contact. For a minute, he sat down on the bed, on Amy’s side and looked at her bedside table. Her current reading book, an empty mug, a Tinkerbell figurine, a black Moleskine journal for her doodles. 

Of course no one would believe him at this point that Amy was missing; no one knew her patterns like him. He picked up her purple pyjama bottoms and felt dread fill him to the core. Something was definitely wrong. Even if no one could yet see it. 

“Where are you, angel?” he whispered. “Tell me where you are.” 

By the time it had turned midnight, Lucas knew with absolute certainty that Amy was missing. He grabbed his Belstaff jacket from the hallway, and picked up his keys off the small table next to the letter rack. At the front was an electricity bill that had come that morning. Lucas eyed their names: Miss. A. Holland and Mr. L. North. She’d been so happy when their first joint mail had come, giggling happily. 

“One day, not too far away, and it’ll say Mrs. A North.” Something so simple had made her so ecstatic. It was in those moments, when something so simple made her smile, that Lucas fell even more deeply in love with her. 

Back on the Grid, Lucas logged on to one of the computers. Only one or two people flitted past him, disappearing down corridors, until a familiar face appeared from around the edge of one of the computers. 

“Malcolm?” Lucas exclaimed.

“You’re in late.” The middle aged man was shocked to see Lucas in the office so late of a night. “Are you back for the Spiller case.” 

“I think Amy’s missing,” Lucas told him. “She never came home tonight. I got back and the flat was empty and there were no lights on. She always leaves the lamp on in the hallway when I get in after her.” 

“Maybe she forgot…” 

“Malcolm, I know her. I live with her. She hasn’t text me all evening, which is unlike her. We constantly text. Can you run all recent footage in the area and track her phone?” 

Malcolm started by opening Amy’s employee record. Her photo filled the screen, and as it did, Lucas smiled sadly. The memory of her lying unconscious in hospital surfaced. His beautiful Amy. His wife-to-be. The future Mrs. Lucas North. 

“What’s her mobile number?” 

Lucas reeled off her number by memory, and Malcolm entered the number into the tracking programme, whilst he run her photo against all CCTV in London. Amy’s photo remained locked on the monitor in the left hand corner as random faces appeared and disappeared, within milliseconds, hundreds of faces being analysed. 

“Her phone was last monitored by a local cell tower at 5:32pm. Coordinates show that she was at South Bank…”

“Heading for the train home,” Lucas interrupted. “That must have been when I sent her my last text message.”

“Her phone has no reception and hasn’t been used since, not even on the Wi-Fi.” 

Terror racked through Lucas and he eyed the faces which were still flipping, none of them staying on screen for longer than a quarter of a second. A blur of eyes, noses, skin colours and hairstyles. “Come on, angel,” he whispered. “Come on! Give us something.” 

A match appeared on the screen; a scene of Amy walking past a pub enlarged on the screen. An address appeared and the coordinate of the building. “South facing camera from the front door of The King’s Head…”

The rest of Malcolm’s words seemed to dissolve away as Lucas began writing down the address of the pub from the screen. “What time was this?” 

“5:40.”

“Just before she got to the underground station. Did your search then include all the underground lines?” 

“Yes.”

“So she didn’t get on a train because she would’ve been picked up on the cameras. Can you check all the vehicles parked in that street and also within a half mile radius, see if anything stands out? And…” Lucas’ voice broke and he hung his head, resting back on the desk behind him. 

“We’ll find her,” Malcolm reassured. 

All Lucas could see in his mind was Amy in his arms, and blood staining his hands and shirt. He could hear her whimpers as he held her, waiting for the ambulance to arrive. There was no way he could let that happen again. It was his duty to protect her, first and foremost. Fuck everyone else. Only Amy mattered. 

“This has got to be connected with Sarah. Why else would anyone target her?” Lucas asked, tears beginning to well in his eyes. Even in death and the bitch wouldn’t leave him alone. 

An hour later and Harry and Ros had arrived, both with a coffee in hand to attempt to wake them. Harry immediately approached Malcolm, who was sifting through all the vehicle registrations that had been in the vicinity of where Amy was last seen. 

Meanwhile, Lucas was sat at Amy’s desk. 

“Is he absolutely sure Amy is missing?” Harry enquired, whispering to Malcolm. “Could he be jumping the gun on this one?” 

Malcolm sighed. “I wouldn’t have called you in, Harry, if I didn’t feel there was something wrong. Amy was last seen here,” and with that, Malcolm pointed to a map on the screen. “CCTV footage caught her walking past The King’s Head, approaching the underground station. Then she went out of shot. None of the underground cameras saw her. She must have disappeared in that street.” 

Ros stood next to Lucas, remaining silent. She felt sadness at the sight of him with his head held low. Next to the time when Amy had been shot, Ros had never encountered Lucas looking so beaten down. 

“I’m not going to say it, Ros, but you know I’m thinking it,” Lucas sighed. 

“I know you all too well by now, Lucas. Of course you’re thinking it. And you still blame me for recruiting her.” 

Lucas stared at Amy’s empty Winnie the Pooh mug on the desk and felt as if his whole chest were compressing, about to implode. 

“You shouldn’t be here. We’ll take this from here. Go home.” 

Lucas looked up at Ros, his ice blue eyes full of turmoil. “How can I go home? I need to find her.” 

Harry walked over. “Ros is right. You can’t be working on this. You’re far too close to her.” 

“And that’s exactly the reason I should be working on this. I knew as soon as I got home that something was wrong. I know her behaviour, her ways. You need me to be on this. You barely know her yet.” 

“Lucas…” Harry began sternly. 

“No, Harry! She’s almost died once because of me, and now I know in my gut that this is connected to Sarah again. I’ve pulled her too far into my life, and it’s constantly putting hers at stake. I should never have got involved with her. I shouldn’t have ever spoken to her in the café and just ignored that want to get to know her…” Tears fell down Lucas’ cheeks in quick procession, and he put his hands to his face, weeping behind them. 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @xxbyimm @knittastically @middleearthpixie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @meganlpie @luna-xial @evenstaredits @missihart23 @quiall321 @sazzlep @lemond57 @rachel1959 @mrsdurin @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee @danzalladaggers

[rlbookreviews]

Twenty Years Later by Charlie Donlea My rating: 5 of 5 stars This is definitely a five-star for me. I was on the edge of my seat wondering what's going to happen next. It is a slow start, so give the book about ten chapters before you decide you don't want to continue reading. The book opens up with a scene that will grasp you in, you are at a crime scene in 2001. You find out who is the suspect for the murder of Cameron Young is. Victoria is having a meeting with her defense attorney in the North Tower when a plane crashes into the tower and 9/11 happens and the case gets dismissed because the suspect dies in the accident. However, twenty years later after the plane crash we find out that there is a DNA match and a person from the crash gets identified from some bone fragments. Avery Mason, a journalist and TV Show host, hears about the identification and wants to make an episode about it, but what Avery uncovers is more than just an identification of a 9/11 victim. This book will have you turn every page until you figure out what's going on. Because not only does Victoria have a dark past, so does Avery Mason. If you enjoy murder mystery, true crime fiction, fiction, thriller, suspense then this book is for you. It is a really good book and very much worth a read. View all my reviews

[lookinghalfacorpse]

If you had to title each itwall chapter, how what would you title them?

oh god

i'm really bad at chapter titles unless there's a gimmick or pattern, you know? i.e. veteri-mycosis and prisoner symptoms.

since itwall is named after "fellow in the north" by cold weather company, i'd probably go through the lyrics in order and try to make it make sense. like this:

chapter 1: far from the shame of the sedentary game chapter 2: i began to find truth in my task chapter 3: i'll never blame chapter 4: for i'll never be the same chapter 5: in the wild, all lessons last chapter 6: deep in the trees where the beggar finds his peace chapter 7: in the arms of a knotted helm chapter 8: i could reclaim what i knew of my old name chapter 9: and return to the head of the helm chapter 10: i left with nothing chapter 11: life for the bluffing chapter 12: fled to the forest chapter 13: northward-bound chapter 14: i was humbled by the stars chapter 15: and you were hollow from the start chapter 16: i was humbled by the stars chapter 17: and you were hollow from the start chapter 18: i was humbled by the stars chapter 19: and you were hollow from the start epilogue: here in the cold, i will live the life i choose as the fellow in the north

[youre-ackermine]

send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome 🖤🥀

My beautiful Bestie 🥰

Thank you so much for this, for always being there for me, for your kindness & humour!

Chapter 11 of North Star was worth the wait!! (Read on TUMBLR or AO3 ). I'm so excited to know what will happen next, meeting Onyankopon, living far from Levi, working with refugees... I have never enough of this story!!!

Sending all my love to you sweet Sailor ❤️

Gif by the awesome @everylevishot