#on the other hand sun and moon darkness and light they painted yuri into their town theatre

[spoopy-moose]

The town-on-gorkhon’s misogyny is counterbalanced by their love and support for yuri

[onceabluemoonwrites]

(Outshine) The Sun

Fandom: Yuri on Ice

Summary: Minami was never ever coming out of the cave. Out of the question. Not to pet the roosters. Not for chocolate. Not for Guang Hong. Not even for Yuuri. 

Except if Yuuri was about to get married, of course, because it would be an eternal embarrassment as big brother not to have Yuuri’s marriage portrait right next to Guang Hong and Leo’s in the sky. Minami had to look at something while sniffling about how fast they’d grown up during the honeymoon! 

 But Yuuri had shown no interest in anybody, so Minami was here to act out his revenge!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Yuri on Ice

AO3 | Tumblr; my other entries: White Locks (The Clock Tick Tocks)

You can find my writing progress here.  If you can’t keep straight who’s based on which god anymore, here’s a list.

My fic master list here.

This was written for @yoimythologyweek  Day One, Feb. 4th: Japanese Mythology and Icarus/Sun God

This is part of the I Move the Stars for No One ‘ verse but can be read as a standalone fic.  

Being booger-born excused a lot, but certainly not everything.

Let us begin at the beginning.

In the ancient times, when the Gods roamed the earth, Izanagi, first of the Gods, washed his face. From his left eye came Minami, God of the Sun and ruler of heaven; From his right eye came Guang Hong, God of the Moon and ruler of the night. Lastly; from his nose came Yuuri, god of storms and ruler of the seas.

For all that Minami had been birthed of eye grit, there was no lethargy to be found in him. He was the incarnation of energy- so great that his very being illuminated the world. Moving across the sky, running around all day, they called him the sun.

The second child, Guang Hong, liked to glide across the night sky once his rambunctious brother had been tucked in- gently shining down on the earth, careful not to wake its citizens, as to give them some respite from Minami’s bountiful energy.

And then there was the youngest (but only by 1,5 seconds, as the Sun God liked to remind everyone while bouncing around in all his godly grace). Now, as you can imagine, Yuuri’s start in life was not the greatest. When your siblings were created from your father’s gritty eyes, but you were created from his boogers… We can’t blame him for being slightly depressed.

In fact, one might argue, that there was only one who came from a worse place than Yuuri- but this was Chris, who had been born of Izanagi’s underwear once the God had disrobed. Chris, as the scrolls tell us, was quite happy with his permanent state of undress, and was known as the first nudist.

Except for Izanagi, that is, but that’s a story for another day.

Back to Yuuri. As mentioned before, he was quite depressed, and the ocean, his realm, was ever covered by the darkest clouds his mind could summon. The waves ever-shifting as his moods, the current taking the newest anxiety to every corner of his body.

The sun god, Minami, however, had been enamoured with his younger brothers since birth. While there were only 1,5 seconds between them, Yuuri was his younger brother, and though Minami might not even reach his shoulder, he had a duty as the eldest brother to protect him (…And spoil him, but that was a whole other story).

While Guang Hong underwent Minami’s adoration with grace- only becoming uncomfortable when the smaller boy began to pinch his cheeks- Yuuri ran for the hills, erm, ocean bottom, as soon as Minami entered his sight. This, however, only made Minami adore him more, because ‘’Yuuri runs like the wind! My little brother is the quickest God of them all!!’’ And beamed so brilliantly that it was impossible to look at him without losing one’s vision.

Still, Yuuri avoiding Minami made him more determined to reach his brother. Every day he shone a little brighter in order to talk to him. Yuuri, however, made darker clouds every day, until even Minami, forever optimist, had to admit his plan wasn’t working. His sunshine couldn’t pierce the clouds that rolled over his brother’s realm anymore.

Time for plan B. Plan B involved dancing in the sky to mimic his brother’s dancing waves, but it did not catch Yuuri’s attention, for he never looked up. So Minami’s second plan failed.

His third plan, Minami was sure, would have success. Last year, Yuuri had had the greatest fun riding the waves. While his previous plans had not worked, Minami was sure that the way to approach his brother lay in emulating him.

So he rode the clouds like his brother rode the waves. Sticking his legs up in the air, doing a couple of handstands, somersaulting over the water mass in the sky, Minami had the greatest fun with this plan.

It was, however, the Ariel on the rocks pose that his brother caught him in.

‘’Stop that!’’

Minami frowned, sticking his head over the edge of the clouds to peer down at Yuuri. ‘’But you do it too!’’

‘’I do not!’’ Yuuri craned his neck to be able to look him straight in the eye, huffing all the way.

‘’Do too! Last year, in fact!’’ And he had looked so cute as well! Minami still had the paintings Guang Hong made of Yuuri up in the sky next to their baby portraits!

Yuuri paled. ‘’I thought we’d agreed not to mention the emo phase!’’ Then he crossed his arms, waves rising up behind him, lifting him higher, as if he was Venus in her shell. ‘’Besides, don’t you think it’s time you abandon these childish past times? Piercing my clouds? Running the heavens amock? Imitating Disney princesses while on the clouds? What even made you think that was a good idea? Just leave me alone!’’

Minami’s smile wavered, fist clenching. He was just there to adore his brother, what was wrong with that? ‘’Well, sorry for wanting to cheer you up! You always made me happy by mimicking me, so I thought I’d cheer you up with it!’’

Yuuri frowned. ‘’Mimicking you?’’

Minami’s smile fell away entirely. ‘’…When you paint the sun upon the surface of the sea, brother.’’

Yuuri’s mouth fell open. ‘’Minami, the ocean’s made of water. It reflects everything above it automatically. Don’t be obtuse.’’

…Yuuri hadn’t done that for Minami? The sun god’s shoulders slumped. His little brother didn’t love him?

His brother waved him away. ‘’Anyway, it’s time you start thinking of the poor humans here below. When you bounce all over the sky like that, their sleeping schedules are messed up completely! You need to grow up, Minami! You’ve got duties!’’

…Grow up? Minami’s heart dropped to the rock bottom. Yuuri didn’t even see him as a proper big brother! ‘’…Okay. I can see where I’m not wanted. I’ll go grow up- all on my own!’’ And with that, he stormed off, cloud and all.

You know what? He’d follow his heart to the rock bottom- he knew a nice big cave, he’d hide out in there until Yuuri was sorry like no tomorrow! Minami was the best big brother in the whole wide world- and soon, Yuuri would remember that as well!

The thing was, though, that Minami hiding in the cave meant that there wouldn’t be a tomorrow at all. Dawn, after all, was what heralded the new day, and when the sun locked himself into a cave…

Let’s just say an eternal night was the nicest way to talk about it.

The crops began to die, the trees began to wither, and something in the heart of man had disappeared as if they could not see their own strength when there was no daylight to show it.

Humanity despaired, falling to their knees to pray to the gods above. But no prayer would help, nor bowing to the heavens, no dance nor ritual came to aid. The heavens remained empty, and dawn did not break.

The sun had gone down, seemingly forever.

Far above humanity, the Moon and his Muse peered down, past the edges of the clouds.

‘’What a dark day in history,’’ Guang Hong fidgeted with his hands, leaving them clasped in his lap as he looked at the human race. He had always had a gentle heart, and this situation was taking its toll on him.

Leo leaned in, lifting the moon god’s chin and gently turning his face away from the blue planet cradled by darkness in the absence of the sun. ‘’You spend all day and all night trying to light their way for them at least a little. You’ve done all you can.’’

Large, brown eyes filled with tears. ‘’But it’s not enough.’’

Opening his arms, Leo lifted his lover up. On nights like these, when Guang Hong folded into himself like a flower about to wilt, there was only one thing to be done. Softly humming, his voice the melody of the universe, he began to dance, Guang Hong’s feet on his, arms around him.

As they danced in the night sky, the stars quietly parted, rearranging themselves to help. Leo couldn’t help but smile when he saw the freckles on his lover’s skin move- freckles constellations indeed. Guang Hong’s body was a perfect representation of his realm, every star a single spot of light upon it. With a quiet sigh, Guang Hong leaned against Leo’s chest, listening to the vibration of his humming.

There was something familiar about it, that echoed in the ears of everyone who heard it. It reverberated through their bones, into the cavity of their chests until it reached their hearts. When Leo sang, it was familiar to all- as if they’d heard it before in a dream. A cradle song, a nursery rhyme, the melody heard when they danced for the first time, the soft breath in the moment before a kiss. Leo was the god of music, and this was his serenade- his very love woven into the fabric of the universe everywhere.

Most of it, naturally, was dedicated to the creature swaying through the sky with him, softly glowing, leaning into his chest until his eyelids fluttered down and his lashes rested upon his cheeks. Guang Hong was asleep- and Leo had a few hours to come up with a plan that would stop him from running himself into the ground.

‘’What do you mean, the sun didn’t get up?’’ The water gently caressed Yuuri’s skin as it whirled around him- the lamp in Chris’ hand the only thing that lit up the darkness of the deep sea.

‘’Minami just… didn’t get out of bed.’’

Yuuri sighed. ‘’Okay, who hid the roosters this time?’’

Draping himself over a rock, Chris licked his lips. ‘’Nobody. I checked- was quite a nice visit too, it being night and all.’’

‘’I don’t even want to know.’’

Roosters were the alarm clock Yuuri had built for Minami once, so they would crow when it was time for Minami to wake and dawn to commence. Nobody could quite remember whether it was Minami who first had a red fringe or the roosters. You know what they say, like owner, like pet. …Or was it like pet, like owner?

See, exactly that!

‘’But why ever isn’t he getting up then?’’ Yuuri raked a hand through his hair.

Chris inspected his nails. ‘’I heard some rumours he shut himself into a cave.’’

Yuuri blinked. ‘’Okay,’’ he raised a finger, ‘’I had a fight with him the other day, we both said ugly things we shouldn’t have, he meant well, but isn’t locking himself up a bit of an over-reaction?’’

Chris shrugged. ‘’I’d say that your own behaviour says otherwise- I mean, going down to the bottom of the ocean again? For what, the three hundred-forty-fifth time this century? We’re not even a decade in.’’

‘’…I am a horrible example and this is all my fault.’’ Yuuri let his head fall into his hands.

‘’There, there, darling. At least all that swimming gave you a sizzling hot bod!’’

Swimming past in long, smooth strokes, kimono whirling around him- if you could call the loosely tied thing that, that was- Chris squeezed Yuuri’s behind. Yuuri squeaked.

‘’Is that- Oh my god, Chris, you were born from my father’s underwear! You can’t squeeze my butt- that’s incest!’’

Chris winked as he swam away. ‘’You sure? Hugging the nether region is the function of underwear, Yuuri-dear!’’

…Yuuri should go above the waves to find Minami and get him out of that cave because he might be anxious, but Minami was his family. He couldn’t let him stay in that cave- not on his own, at least. Sighing, he resigned himself to more harassment at Chris’ hands above the waves.

The sacrifices one made for family!

Minami was never ever coming out of the cave. Out of the question. Not to pet the roosters. Not for chocolate. Not for Guang Hong. Not even for Yuuri.

Except if Yuuri was about to get married, of course, because it would be an eternal embarrassment as big brother not to have Yuuri’s marriage portrait right next to Guang Hong and Leo’s in the sky. Minami had to look at something while sniffling about how fast they’d grown up during the honeymoon!

But Yuuri had shown no interest in anybody, so Minami was here to act out his revenge! He’d stay in here, in this cold cave, and keep all his light to himself. Ha! That’d teach them! They should all just come after him, and beg and beg and beg him to come back, but Minami? He wouldn’t!

Take THAT, and see how sorry they suddenly all were!

��If anyone was ever going to arrive at the entrance of the sealed cave, that was. Minami pouted.

If they could all just hurry up with the begging, then he’d at least have something to do, because caves were, surprisingly, awfully quiet and not exactly great company. Not nearly as cute as two little brothers either.

He’d already yelled into it a lot, to amuse himself with the echo, but his voice got hoarse after some time, especially because he’d forgotten to take his pouch with him, so he had no sugary goodness to drink.

He flopped over. What was life as a God even worth without the golden Liquid of Immortality, the Ambrosia called Capri-Sun?

Still. He refused to just skip out of this cave like nothing happened. Let them suffer!

He was going to sulk all day long!

When Yuuri came stomping up the heavens to shake some sense into his brother- well, tip-toeing, actually, he didn’t like loud noises, but the bridge to heaven creaked when he walked over it, so it was basically the same- he had not expected to be greeted by this sight.

Hundreds, no, thousands of gods, major and minor both, had gathered in front of the cave, watching it silently in total darkness.

‘’…What are you guys doing?’’

As one they looked up. ‘’We have lost hope, for the Sun showed us the way. We cannot see our own strength anymore, Yuuri-no-mikoto.’’

Yuuri, not expecting their full attention, shrunk away. He could not deal with this- too many people, too much to see, too- Except it was dark, and Yuuri had lived in the depth of the ocean and the darkness of his own mind since birth.

He knew how they felt. This endless night was the reality he fought every day- they reality he saw every time he flinched away from something he wanted.

But living in darkness had taught him one thing- you may doubt your strength when you cannot see it, but when it comes down to it, it’s there. Hidden in your bones, encroached in the last bastion of your heart- the treasure hidden within the cave.

So he straightened his back and strode forward. An impressive sight he was, his garments like a waterfall- endlessly dripping down, but never running out. Salt crystals clung to his skin and his hair was wet, slicked back, as inky as the parts of the ocean the light could not reach. Pearls peeked out from beneath, the conch shells that acted as his ears gleaming softly in the moonlight.

‘’This is no time to be sitting around. We’re getting my brother out of that cave- even if it is the last thing we do.’’

And with that, his voice ringing steadfast over the crowd, determined, sure. It rose like a wave, it was carried by the wind, over the enormous plain surrounding the cave. Crashing down, it came. The masses burst out in cheering as the message hit home.

They could do this! If the sun would not rise, then they would just have to convince the dawn to break!

Life had given them two legs, and walk they would. Yuuri would make them, if no one else would.

Minami knew he’d said he wouldn’t be swayed by chocolate, but nobody had said anything about Nutella. Or about Yuuri, Nutella and the roosters teaming up. It was plain unfair!

‘’They miss you, Minami! There’s Nutella and I even took some Capri-Sun!’’ Yuuri’s voice was muffled through the cave wall, but Minami could hear him just fine. Yuuri’s adorable voice would always reach him, wherever he was, because Minami was his big brother and big brothers just possessed superpowers like that.

‘’I SAID I WON’T BE SWAYED! AT ALL! Okay, maybe a little...’’ He pushed his fingers against each other. No, Minami, stay strong! Do not succumb to the coo-over-little-brother instincts!

He huffed, crossing his arms. ‘’But I’m not coming out, Yuuri, not until you apologize!’’

‘’Okay! I’m sorry!’’

No, no, no! That was all wrong! Minami threw his hands up in the air. ‘’’That’s not enough!’’ Did Yuuri not even know how to beg properly? Minami had failed in raising him!

…Okay, maybe Minami was being a bit unreasonable, but everybody had the right to be that from time to time! And Yuuri had been really mean to him! Granted, even when Yuuri was mean he was the most darling thing, but that was beside the point.

‘’…Can I offer you some takoyaki too, then?’’

By Izanagi, Yuuri was playing dirty! ‘’No! Now go away, I want to sulk in peace!’’

The second one who tried to get Minami out of the cave was Guang Hong. Minami knew it before he even spoke up- his big brother senses went off like a bomb.

‘’Minami, I’ve got some paintings here!’’

Minami narrowed his eyes. Granted, Guang Hong’s works were masterworks (his little brothers were extremely talented, worship them), but why ever did he think it would tempt Minami out of the cave?

‘’They’re Yuuri paintings.’’

Minami gasped. ‘’You had more Yuuri paintings, all this time and didn’t give them to me?! Guang Hong, I trusted you!’’

The horror! This betrayal- Minami might never recover from it! Decidedly, he stood up and put his hand on the cave seal. It was high time he retrieved those paintings! He did not have a business card with ‘’Minami, biggest bro-con on earth and above it!’’ for nothing!

He had fourteen hundred thirty-three paintings of Yuuri, he would add these to his collection, in their rightful spot next to the Guang Hong cheeks-adoration gallery!

He froze. Then began to chuckle. ‘’Guang Hong, your sweet cheeks do not deceive me! I have uncovered your adorable evil scheme! There are no Yuuri paintings- I would have found them by sniffing out the scent of Yuuri-in-paint like I do every Monday! You are not getting me out of this cave!’’

Guang Hong began to sniffle at the other end of the wall. ‘’But… But… I just wanted to have you back!’’

It took all Minami had not to break. ‘’You’re not really crying! You’re trying to fool me! Stop pretending to cry, Guang Hong!’’

‘’You just have fun in your stupid cave while we worry about you, Minami!’’ and with that, one of the two cutest little brothers on earth and above it stormed off.

‘’Welcome to the Get Minami Out of The Cave because We Need His Shining Presence committee's twenty-third meeting, we’d like it if someone had suggestions that actually worked,’’ Chris said, sagging down onto the floor.

‘’If Chris is running out of stamina, we have a problem.’’ Yuuri sighed.

Leo laughed. ‘’Don’t worry! I’ve got a perfect plan! Just get me a few instruments, and act along, and this will be done in a jiffy!’’

There was music coming through the cave wall. In fact, the buzz of many people talking too. Now he noticed- hmmm… that smelled good!

Wait- were they holding a festival? Minami loved festivals!

…A shame this was just another scheme to lure him out.

But what if it wasn’t? His sulking could wait for a minute, right?

Inching towards the cave wall, he pressed his ear against it. He couldn’t hear much more, but he was pretty sure he heard Chris nearby.

‘’Psssst- Chris! What’s going on?’’

Chris' voice was muffled, but still audible through the music and the rock. ‘’Minami, is that you? I’m sorry, but we have a new sun god!’’

‘’WHAT?!”’ …Wait a minute. ‘’Not going to fall for that!’’

‘’Whatever you say,’’ He could hear the shrug in Chris' voice, ‘’Just so you know, Guang Hong and Yuuri also gave him the title of their new big brother.’’

With one mighty shove, Minami utterly destroyed the seal before him, opening up the cave. ‘’ALL RIGHT, WHERE IS THAT POOPHEAD BABY-BROTHER STEALING DUNG-LOVER?! FIGHT ME!’’

Storming out of the cave, he saw his competitor for his siblings’ love ahead- sunrays crowning his head, blinding him for a moment. ‘’Who do you think you are, huh? Coming into my town, buddy?! You don’t steal the cutest little brothers in MY town, pal!’’ He jumped back and forwards continuously, shadow boxing. He had no idea where the other currently was but, he was pretty sure that was the black smudge over there-

Minami gasped. That brightness was a TOTAL ‘’Come at me, bro!’’

Challenge ACCEPTED!

He shone a little brighter, but the rival matched him step for step. He couldn’t see a thing, but he’ll just up the brightness- he couldn’t go further, but he HAD TO SHOW THAT GRAPE-STEALING BUM WHO’S BOSS!

His love for his brothers would have had him shine on forever, but it was a fact that he hadn’t eaten since yesterday, so he lost power quickly. Toppling over, his luminescence went down. His competitor also lowered his brightness, which was quite considerate for such a meanie.

Looking up, Minami was ready to flay the man with words (he had kept ‘’DUMBASS’’ in reservation for the killing blow!) when he was faced with- a mirror?

Dumbfounded, he blinked.

Had he been trying to outshine himself the entire time?

Okay- that’s kind of funny. He burst out in laughter. A mass of people cheered. Looking up, startled, Minami came face to face with thousands of people, spread over the sprawling grasslands surrounding the cave. But, most importantly, his brothers, Leo and Chris and the rest of his friends in front.

‘’You guys… You did all of this for me?’’

Everybody nodded. ‘’Uhuh!’’

’The mirror was Yuuri’s idea, but the rest was all Leo!’’ Chris winked.

Minami had the sweetest family and friends in existence. He burst out crying.

‘’Are you okay?’’ Yuuri’s question was tentative, but Minami latched onto him like a barnacle, bawling into his shoulder. ‘’You guys are the best! I love you!’’

He hugged everyone that day.

(It was only when it was almost time for sleep, that he realized this is the first time he’s ever seen Yuuri in a big company like this, and he could not let this chance pass.

He found the highest hill, family hurrying after him with confused expressions. Putting his hands next to his mouth, he screamed: ‘’I was BORN to be bro-con! Just LOOK AT MY BROTHERS!’’ and presents Yuuri- who has reached the top of the hill first.

‘’Let me out of here!’ Yuuri scrambled backwards but was stopped by Guang Hong and Leo clambering up after him.

Guang Hong shook his head. ‘’Just let him have his way and take some family pictures!’’

Minami’s eyes gleamed. ‘’Yes!’’’

Yuuri paled. ‘’NO!’’

The shutter went off.

‘’By Izanagi,’’ Leo mumbled, putting an arm around Guang Hong to pose for the next picture ‘’Am I glad I’m just the in-law.’’

Guang Hong shrugged. ‘’Depends on how you look at it.’’

Leo frowned. ‘’What are you talking about?’’

His husband beamed, the stars on his skin shining brighter, dancing mischievously. ‘’You’re stuck with me forever!’’

Throwing his head back, Leo laughed. ‘’Somehow, I think I’m just fine with that, darling!’’

With Yuuri’s screams of embarrassment as their lovely background choir, he kissed Guang Hong’s nose before the curtains of the tale went down.

Author’s Note

I want to thank @i-w-p-chan and @adelmortescryche for managing to get me through my blocks with this fic! And to @yuuris-piano whose awesome music inspired me! 

In particular: Day by the Sea!

I was very excited to do this after I had tons of fun with the deity au series (the Land of Gods and Monsters ‘verse) I did for yoifantasyweek! 

This tale was based on the story of Amaterasu, the Sun Goddess, in the cave!

[theolddarkmachine]

Kingdom- Interlude: Once Upon A Day

Gajeel has had the dream about dying for the blue haired girl for as long as he can remember. Which is weird, since he’s never met anyone with blue hair in his life.

Levy has always loved myths and legends. So much so, in fact, that she was currently getting her master’s in mythological studies.

What neither of them realized was that they were living a legend all their own.

AKA the one with a knight, a princess, and a curse that keeps bringing them together just to pull them apart.

Previous Chapters

AO3

SURPRISE GUESS WHO IS OFFICIALLY AHEAD AND SCHEDULE AND GOT IN THAT SECOND UPDATE BEFORE LEAVING! THIS GIIIIIIIRL! Anyway, y’all, please suspend your knowledge of Makarov for this fic and imagine him like Yuri and Laxus lol Kthanksbye. Also, I’ve been feelin’ this space talk for explaining things, if you couldn’t tell. Catch me using space terminology in everything I’ve written this week. 

PS- I actually made myself pretty sad writing this lol

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Ileana McGarden was born to a family of storytellers that lived just outside the town bordering the castle of the king of Fiore. They’d never known a wealthy life, but what they did not have in riches they made up for with words. The multitude of stories they had at their disposal rivaled that of even the history keepers that lived in the kingdom. People would travel from all over the countryside just to hear the histories of the land they lived within brought to life through their retelling. It was the stories they wove that made them enough to survive, and what they could not pay for with what they’d earned, they could do without.

When the time had come for Ileana to take over the reins as the storyteller, she was 18 years old, and she was regarded highly not only for the words she recounted but also for her beauty. Standing in the town square under the golden sun, her hair would sparkle and shine a brilliant aquamarine that would put any jewel to shame. Many asked for her hand in marriage, and those same many were refused. Stories were the love of Ileana McGarden’s life.

So everyday, she went out to the town square to captivate her audience with the tales her family had gathered over their existence, and everyday she would refuse the poor man that had thought he’d be the one to capture her attention in the way those stories had.

It had been a particularly sunny Sunday when all of that changed.

She’d been in the middle of telling the myth of the sun and moon goddesses with the setting sun at her back to create the backdrop. The tale was her favorite, and she always drew a large crowd when she launched into it as her passion carried the words like a song up to the heavens towards the very sun and moon it was about. Bright golden rays of the sunset were peeking over the rooftops that surrounded them and brilliant pinks and purples painted over the sky. If you asked her audience, with the fading sunlight in her hair and the sparkle in her honey eyes, she looked like one of the goddesses she spoke so fondly of.

“They loved each other greatly, the moon shining with the light of the sun’s love and the sun dancing amongst the different shades of color the moon’s sky cast around her.”

Ileana’s hands reached up towards the clouds above them as if she could pick the coloring from them to show her audience. With a wide smile stretched across her face, she turned towards the awestruck crowd, expecting the way all their attention would be on her with wide eyes and mouths slightly agape. What she did not expect was the jolt in her chest when her eyes landed on one crowed member in particular. The blonde man stood at the back of the crowd, arms crossed over a simple white shirt that was tucked into even simpler brown riding pants. His black eyes watched her intently, one eyebrow cocked and a small smile tugging at the right corner of his mouth. Something about the way his gaze danced over her raised a small gasp from her lips and breaking the rhythmic cadence of her words.

It was the first time anyone had caused words to fail her.

The moment was so quick, anyone else would think she had just stopped for a breath, but the way the stranger’s smile split into a full blown, toothy grin told her he knew better. For the rest of the story she avoided the black fire gaze of the stranger, but the warmth that spread through her veins from it never fully dissipated. As her story came to a close and the square filled with the sound of her audience’s applause she tried to keep the fluttering of her heart contained as she saw the blonde stranger moving closer to where she stood.

“Oh, look at this sucker,” one of the men in the audience said as they watched him moved through the throngs of people towards her. She recognized him as one of the first she’d turned down.

“He must be new,” his companion chuckled, eyes never leaving the blonde stranger as he closed the remaining space that separated him from Ileana. Her skin crackled with an excitement she’d never felt before. Up close, she could see the freckles that created constellations across the bridge of his nose and the deep blue of his eyes that looked like the night sky.

“Beautiful story,” was all he said, his voice thick with appreciation. Heat colored her cheeks at the compliment.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Have you traveled far to listen?” Ileana didn’t let the butterflies ricocheting against her insides falter her speech as she spoke to him. He chuckled lowly at the question.

“Not far at all, it is my first time though.” That same look from earlier fixed upon her again, shooting anxious sparks of electricity down to her fingertips. “A pity for me that I’ve been missing out all this time.”

“It’s better late than never,” she smiled and used the energy that yearned for her to reach out to him to tuck her blue hair behind her ear. It was his turn to falter as the brightness in her smile blinded him momentarily. His hesitation was fleeting before he found his composure. The night sky gaze flickered from her face to someone behind her before quickly returning. His face fell slightly at whatever it was unseen to her just behind her back.

“Would it be okay if I came back tomorrow?” Something about the way he asked made her heart stutter. Of the many times men had approached her after her story telling, none had ever asked her this. Most came to her with an air of assuming arrogance, expecting her to accept whatever invitation they bestowed upon her as if they had been doing her a favor. She felt the eyes of the two men that had joked about the stranger’s approach on them, waiting for her denial.

“I would be honored.” Ileana smiled at him again as the butterflies flipped their cage over in her stomach. The stranger smirked at her, though whether it was due to the shocked gasp from the onlookers or her answer, she wasn’t sure. His blonde hair flopped forward as he bowed deeply towards her, reaching his hand out for hers. It was a far more formal gesture than the town square required, and certainly more formal than she deserved, but the thrill of it tickled up her spine. Gently she placed her palm in his. As he stood, he brought her hand up to his lips. His midnight gaze held her golden one as he pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles. The feather light touch knocked the breath from her lungs.

“I will see you tomorrow then.” With that, he let go of her hand and walked past her, leaving her stunned as she searched for anything at all to say.

It was the second time in her life anyone had caused words to fail her.

Time seemed to stretch forever as she hectically searched through the thousands upon thousands of words in her mind for at least one that she could say to the mysterious stranger.

“Wait!” She cried, spinning on her heel as he had begun to walk away with a tall, black haired man dressed in all black. The blonde man hesitated, turning back to face her. His companion made an impatient noise under his breath as he also turned to face her, his red eyes looking bored. “What’s your name?”

“Makarov,” he said simply with a smile. The sharpness of it and the way it rolled from his lips seemed to suit him. “And yours?” She couldn’t stop her own smile as she answered.

“Ileana.”

***

After their first meeting Makarov continued to come back everyday. Whenever she arrived to the town square she would feel the bubble of joy that would expand in her chest and threaten to lift her from the ground. She hadn’t thought anyone could make her feel the same wonderment words had, and yet he always managed to fill her veins with heart stopping awe and a foreign emotion she could only imagine to be love. Some days he would show up early enough to speak with her before she would start her tales for the day, and others he would show up just in time as she would take her steadying breath before dropping into character. On those days, he would stay late into the evening as the moon and stars would make their appearance. Their meetings always ended the same, with him bowing to her as he ran his lips gently across the skin of her knuckles before leaving with the dark haired man she later came to learn was named Metalicana.

It was a month’s time before she invited him to her small home on the outskirts of the town. Her mother had died giving birth to her, and her father had left to gather more stories for them to tell, leaving the cottage to her and her alone. Inside the walls of her cozy abode and away from questioning eyes, they fell into a much more comfortable routine. They would cuddle up together in front of the fire while she would regale him with stories of her childhood and stories she didn’t tell the townsfolk.

“Something’s I don’t like sharing,” she’d chuckled as she finished telling him the tale of the creation of time.

That had been the first time he’d kissed her, and the third time he’d taken her words from her.

Ileana hadn’t learned of Makarov’s royal lineage until a year into their relationship. They’d been laying together in her bed, enjoying the heat of the late morning sunlight from the window that brushed their skin with warmth when a troubled shadow had crossed his face. It was the kind of look one had when they had nothing but bad news. She’d seen it on her father’s face when he finally told her of her mother’s death, and she’d seen it on the face of the man that had come to her door a few months prior to tell her of her father’s untimely death.

“What is it, my love?” She’d asked, reaching towards his face and cupping his cheek with the feather light touch of her palm. His eyes fluttered shut as he pressed into the caress. A tight grip closed on her heart as she watched an internal struggle wage across his face before his expression calmed as he made his decision.

“I’m the prince.”

A beat of silence so profound and so deep one could hear a pin drop filled the home. Then Ileana began to laugh. The sound beat away the tense silence and filled it with the bell-like mirth of her joy. A scowl crossed his face as she wheezed, the fit of laughter racking her body as she leant into his chest. It wasn’t until the boisterous sound faded into spaced out giggles that he chuckled as he planted a kiss to the top of her head. The confession had made the world of sense to Ileana as she nuzzled at his collarbone, unable to stop the the light laughter that had filled her. She’d always felt he was regal, and had often imagined him as the prince in the many stories she shared with her audiences. Makarov being the prince of Fiore seemed as right as the stars in the sky.

It was the fourth time words he’d made her words leave her with nothing to say.

Years would pass as they continued their meetings and the prince continued to be there for every story she told to the townsfolk. She’d even grown close with Metalicana, even helping him some evenings with dragging Makarov home. Her life had felt like one of her tales, and if she hadn’t let herself get caught up in the romanticism of it all, she may have been able to foresee that it couldn’t stay.

Just before his 21st birthday, her prince’s father fell gravely ill. She had heard of it from the gossip flitting through the town before she’d seen Makarov that day, and had already prepared herself for the news. As she began to tell her tales for her audience that afternoon, he showed up and stood at the back of the crowd, eyes downcast as he avoided her stare. Much like any other day he approached her as the throng of people dispersed, and though she had prepared to hear about his father’s sickness, she had not prepared for the sadness that filled his eyes as she told her of his father’s dying wish.

Sorrow unlike anything she had ever felt tore through her like a blade. It left her chest split wide and raw like an open wound and though they continued to meet, it never quite healed. They spent their final days together wrapped in each other as they tried to capture as much as they could to carry with them. Like thieves in the night they took pieces of the other until there was nothing left.

His smile.

Her delicate touch.

His passion filled stare.

Her captivating voice.

The day before his wedding was the last time Ileana went to the square to share her stories.

It was the final time Makarov took her words from her.

***

Levy McGarden loved the stories her mother told, but the story of the prince that had fallen in love with one of the townsfolk was her favorite. The way she’d told it always painted such a vivid picture, she would think that her mother had lived it herself. She knew better though, knowing her mom never stepped foot into town. If there was anything they needed that they could not get from the land around them, her mother would send her instead but always with a warning to return straight home.

Levy didn’t mind all too much, really. At home her mother would tell her such fantastic stories, she couldn’t imagine anything in the outside world could possibly live up to the things she’d heard from her mother. From the prince that loved the townswoman, to the moon and sun goddesses destined to love each other from afar, and even to the story of how time grew from the dust of stars, she never found herself wanting for anything else outside of her four walls and her mother’s words.

She began to learn the stories her mother told, loving the way the tales filled her mind with wonder and endless combinations of words that created worlds unlike anything anyone truly knew. It was a comfortable existence, and one that many might have puzzled over, but it was hers and she loved it.

Without having met one, she could tell anyone the exact likeliness of a dragon.

Without having seen it, she could tell anyone the exact way the sea would lap against the earth in steady, blue green waves.

Without having felt it, she could tell anyone the exact way love could fill ones chest with a lightness that made them feel invincible and completely vulnerable all at once.

If there was anything Levy knew she could count on, it was the words that made up the stories that she survived on as if they were oxygen. At least, that’s what she thought.

It was shortly after her 19th birthday when a knock had interrupted the tale her mother had recounting of the princess who slept until kissed by a prince. The sound was foreign to them, as Levy could not remember a time when anyone had come to their home. Identical hazel gazes flickered towards the door and then back to the other before the staccato sound of knuckles rapping against wood echoed through their home again. With a curt nod from her mother, Levy pushed herself away from the fire they’d been sitting in front of to answer the door. Standing just on the other side of it was a knight. His black hair cascaded around his shoulders and down his back over the black armor he wore. Crimson eyes looked at her quizzically as a peculiar eyebrow of studded metal quirked upward. Her heart crashed within her chest as she looked at the man.

“May I help you?” She asked, trying to sound firm as she drew a breath in an attempt to make herself look larger. The motion seemed to amuse the knight as his red glare softened.

“I was hoping I could bother you for some food. I have been traveling for quite some time, and ran out of provisions long ago.” His voice was thick as honey as he dragged his gaze down her body. If she noticed the false note in his voice, she didn’t acknowledge it, instead lost in the way his eyes sent chills racing down her skin. She nodded before she’d even fully decided to let him in, ignoring the heat of her mother’s stare that bore into her back.

“We don’t have much, but we could spare you some bread and drink,” her voice sounded like a strangers as it dipped low. The smile she received made her mind go blank. It was the kind of smile she imagined the princesses in her mother’s stories received from their princes.

“May I ask your name?” Levy asked as soon as her mind kicked back on. Closing the door after he’d stepped in, she turned to face him, vaguely noting the wide eyed stare of her mother. If she’d been closer, maybe she would have noticed the spark of familiarity in her mom’s shocked stare. The knight turned to face her, the steel that had been in his original stare at the door slipping away completely. Without the fiery heat in his eyes, he looked to be about her age.

“‘m Gajeel,” he said matter-of-factly as he bowed before her, offering his hand. Ileana’s eyes watched the scene from by the fire, a sharp pang rippling through her chest as she saw the gesture. After a moment, Levy dropped her hand into his and he pulled it towards him to press a kiss to the back of her hand. The feel of his lips on her skin made her heart stutter.

“And you?” He asked as he returned to standing and released her hand.

“Levy,” she breathed. Something sparked between them as they held each other’s gazes. It was the sharp clearing of her mother’s throat that broke the spell and caused them both to jump.

“And my mother.”

As Gajeel walked further into their home to introduce himself to Ileana, Levy went to their food storage and grabbed him a half a loaf of their bread and filling a cup with water. The knight thanked her for the food and drink, tearing into it as if it had been the most delicious meal he’d ever had. The mother and daughter bounced questions off of him, asking about his life and the kingdom in which he’d come from. As he answered, Levy missed the way her mother grew quiet as he began to speak of the king of Fiore, whom he served.

The trio talked for what felt like hours, and Levy’s mother even recounted some of her stories for him. It wasn’t until the sun had set low in the sky that he announced he had to continue back to the castle.

“May I return tomorrow?” He asked of them both, Ileana’s shoulders tensing at the near identical question she’d been asked so many years before. Levy’s cheeks had flushed at the question, her eyes darting to her mother in a silent plea. If it had been up to Ileana, she’d have bid the knight farewell and closed the door. The pain of love was not one she wished her daughter to feel just yet, and yet she found she could not deny her. With a quick nod, Levy’s face split into a bright smile as she turned to the knight.

“It would be my honor.”

***

Gajeel became a permanent fixture in their home, arriving about midday and leaving each evening. A few months after he’d come into their lives, Ileana fell ill and passed, but not before she was able to see the love that had blossomed between him and her daughter. As Levy had cried at her mother’s side, rattling breath painfully dragging from her lips as she faded, he’d remained at hers. It was with a smile and a prayer for their love story to turn out differently than her own that Ileana McGarden breathed her last breath.

Days turned into weeks and those weeks turned into months, which then turned into a year and Gajeel still remained at Levy’s side. They lived together in the small house on the outskirts of town and Levy had taken up her mother’s knack for storytelling, not only sharing her favorites with the love of her life, but also returning to the town to share them.

Much like her mother before her, she drew large crowds of bright eyed townspeople that reveled in the way she was able to form words into worlds before them. While the faces usually changed, one stayed constant as Gajeel stood at the back of her audience, always watching with a protective stance. While she recounted her stories, her eyes would always flicker to the soft smile that would be on his lips that he only saved for her and a warmth would spread in her chest.

The love she felt for him was unlike anything the tales she’d been told had readied her for, and often times she found that words weren’t enough to convey the way he made her heart stutter or the way his gaze sent fire racing through her veins.

Each morning she would wake nestled within his arms, and each evening they would spend speaking of everything and nothing at all. It felt as if she had fallen into one of her mother’s stories about fated love.

Her own affections are what distracted her from seeing just how similar her story had become to her favorite story of the prince and the townswoman. If she had, she may have seen that, much like those lovers, her own love story was not meant to last.

[4lyeskas]

sic itur ad astra

read it on Ao3 SERIES: Yuri!!! On Ice PAIRING: Otabek Altin x Yuri Plisetsky RATING: General Audiences / G TAGS: SciFi/Fa, Alternate Universe; Moonwalker and Starchild AU

Or, an AU where Otabek is a moonwalker, and Yuri is a starchild who falls onto his home.

// based on this amazing piece of art by @chantedeer, beta’d by the sweetest @astruous!! // reposted from my ao3/personal // @otayuriwriterscollective

It is moonrise.

Otabek rouses from his sleep and stretches, pale skin and sinew. His movements are stiff and laborious, and his body feels rigid. It is cold; it is always cold. His footsteps echo in the small cavern as he makes his way outside, where the starlight greets him. He reaches out, winding the last few threads of sunshine through his fingers. They glow rose and gold against his skin.

Carefully, carefully, Otabek presses his hands to his chest, and feels the sunshine warm him. The gentle heat spreads through him, and slowly, he softens. He shrugs his shoulders, wiggles his toes.

Around him, the stars twinkle.

Otabek goes about his daily chores. He checks for fallen asteroids, then clears the area around his cavern of moondust and bits of meteor. Every once in a while he will call over some starshine with his fingers, and press it to his chest.

He savors the warmth, the way it eases his body. He is careful never to take too much, else he might burn. Always, it is just enough for him to move easier, see brighter. Always, just enough.

He checks the craters in case something has fallen in. Then Otabek goes back to his cavern, feels the tightness return to his body. He is cold, but he will fall asleep soon.

The sun rises. Otabek sleeps.

It is moonrise, but not just.

Otabek peers outside his cavern, looking in awe at the star shower that flashes across the sky in yellow and blue and white. He stays indoors tonight; the chores will have to go undone. The starlight flickers through the mouth of the cavern and Otabek watches it paint the walls with color. Even in this shelter, he feels warm.

He wonders what it feels like to be a star, always burning with heat. He would like to thank them for being kind enough to share their light.

Otabek wakes the next night in a haze, languid and soothed. The star shower had left him just warm enough in his slumber that he need not catch the last of the sunshine. He takes his time with his chores instead, even peers over a ridge to watch the Earth. He checks the craters in case something has fallen in.

Something has.

It is vivid and warm, and breathing.

Otabek inhales sharply as he looks at the starchild who sits there, small and lost. It has not seen him yet, though it is looking around and hugging itself tightly. In the dark of the crater it glows, faintly.

He thinks of the star shower last night, and of this starchild losing its way and falling here.

“Hello,” he calls, and the starchild looks at him. It curls into itself a little more.

“Are you all right?” Otabek asks. The starchild does not answer.

There is a moment of hesitation, then Otabek slowly makes his way down to the starchild, who watches him with wide eyes. It is scared, Otabek thinks. He understands.

“What is your name?” he asks softly. He is near enough now to see gold, starspun hair and a young face. The boy’s eyes are an astonishing green, which Otabek has only seen glimpses of on Earth. He looks at Otabek, wary and frightened. There are scratches and bruises on his body from his fall.

They look at each other. Otabek is patient, quiet; he does not press. The starchild shivers in the cold. With careful motions, Otabek spins down some starshine. He offers it up.

Uncertainty flashes over the starchild’s features, before slender hands reach out tentatively. When he is close enough, the starshine flits over to him, curling through his fingers and up his arms. His glow becomes a little brighter.

When the last traces of light and warmth have left Otabek’s fingers, the starchild peeks up at him.

“Yuri,” he whispers.

The starchild, Yuri, is too young and fragile to be left alone. Otabek brings him back to his cavern, giving him more starshine along the way. It brings a flush to Yuri’s cheeks, makes him look less drained. It makes Otabek a little less worried.

“Where am I?” Yuri asks, glancing around him.

“A moon,” Otabek answers. He winds a thread of starshine around Yuri’s wrist, watches it disperse into sparks that dance up and down the starchild’s skin.

“Who are you?” Yuri looks at the sparks on his arm, then at the moonwalker.

“Otabek,” he answers easily, stepping back.

There is a tiny crease in Yuri’s brow. “What are you?”

“I am a moonwalker,” he answers. Yuri tips his head to the side, perplexed.

“Are there more of you?”

“Yes.” Otabek looks for a blue star and tucks some of its light into Yuri’s hair. “But I am the only one here.”

Yuri looks out into the sky. He hugs himself again, not because of the cold. “I don’t remember where I came from.”

Otabek places a little more light into that gold fringe. “You may stay here until you do.”

Otabek wakes at moonrise. On the other side of the cavern, the starchild is asleep, a glimmer in the darkness. The scratches and bruises have faded. Otabek watches him for a few moments before getting up.

He’s just finished sweeping away some chunks of asteroid from outside his cavern when Yuri emerges, blinking drowsily and rubbing his eyes.

Wordlessly, Otabek holds out the last of the sunshine that he has saved. It is warm and bright in his palm. Yuri turns his sleepy gaze onto the moonwalker, then takes the sunshine with a tiny smile. The threads spiral up his arms.

“Thank you,” Yuri says politely. Then he looks around, shifting a little in uncertainty.

Otabek tips his head to the side. “I have to see if anything fell here while we were asleep. Would you like to join me?”

The corners of Yuri’s mouth pull up a little more. When Otabek sets off, he follows.

The vast and overarching sky stretches out above them, full of stars and moons and other worlds. Yuri looks up, points and asks, and Otabek quietly answers.

He tells Yuri that he has been on this moon all his life, gathering starlight to keep himself warm while he is awake. Always just enough to banish the stiffness in his limbs, the cold in his bones. He cannot take too much.

“Why?” Yuri asks. He looks at his own hands, feels the warmth that is ever-present in his skin.

“It will burn,” Otabek answers simply. He had made that mistake once, when he had stumbled into the sun side of the moon. It had only been a few moments, but his arms had ached for weeks after, too hot and stinging. He stays away from the edge of the shadow now.

Otabek tells Yuri about the asteroids and comets, about the world below that he has never been to but wants to, maybe. He tells Yuri about the constellations that sometimes come to greet him on their journeys across the sky. He tells Yuri about the moonwalkers, about his old friend Jean. He tells Yuri about the humans down on Earth, about how they sometimes send their own kind up here, and how he wonders if he should say hello.

All the while, Otabek will spin down some starlight. Some he will keep for himself, letting the soft warmth sooth his cold muscles. The rest, he gives to Yuri, who, in the moonshine, is the same color as the sun.

They get the chores done easily enough. Otabek takes Yuri with him to check around the craters; privately, he wonders if perhaps another starchild had landed on his moon. As he works, Yuri darts around, curious and wide-eyed.

The starchild peers over the top of a hill of rock. "What is that?"

Otabek pauses from where he's spinning the trails of a meteor into a ball. "Hm?"

"That." Yuri points at the world of green and blue.

"Oh." Otabek finishes the ball and passes it to Yuri. It glows brighter when it passes into the starchild's hands; it seeps slowly into Yuri’s palms, sparks flitting up his arms. He looks to where Yuri had been pointing. "That's the Earth."

Yuri looks back at the Earth with wide eyes. “So different.”

Otabek looks around, at the moon that has always been his home. Up until the horizon is rock and moon sand, and stardust. “It is,” he agrees, but he does not mind.

There is stardust on Yuri too, dancing on his skin. “Are there starchildren there too?” he asks tentatively.

Otabek smiles a small, sad smile. “No, Yuri.”

The sparks fizzle out, and Yuri dims a little. "Oh."

The sun will be rising soon. Otabek hesitates, then reaches out to Yuri, the lightest brush of fingers to the back of the starchild’s hand. Yuri is so much warmer and softer than any starlight Otabek has taken, and so much more tangible. The trifling bit of friction sets some sparks off Yuri’s skin, and the tips of Otabek’s fingers feel set alight.

Yuri looks up, a little startled. Otabek withdraws his hand, and steps away.

“We should go back.”

The days go by. The sun sets, and they wake. Otabek goes about his chores as he always has, with Yuri in tow. The starchild has endless questions, and Otabek answers as best as he can. His curiosity is infectious; soon, Otabek too is wondering about the other moons and worlds he has never visited, because he has never left his sanctuary in the universe.

The days go by, and as each one passes Yuri becomes a little brighter, his glow a little stronger. He has told Otabek that one day, he will be able to spin his own light from his fingers. One day, he will create threads of starlight like the ones Otabek pulls down from the sky to give him.

They sit at the edge of a crater, watching a comet pass by. Otabek tells Yuri about a comet child he’d met once, named Phichit.

Yuri looks at him in awe, and murmurs, “I didn’t know.”

Otabek looks at him questioningly.

“All these other things out there.” Yuri makes a sweeping gesture, encompassing a universe so vast and complex. He feels almost reverent of this new knowledge. “I didn’t know about them.”

Otabek smiles gently. “Now you do.”

It makes Yuri laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Otabek likes his laugh, tinkling and light and sweet. They sit in a comfortable silence as the galaxies move slowly around them.

It is subtle; at first, Otabek does not notice. But then Yuri’s hands creep up his own arms, as if he is hugging himself. He has paled, just a bit.

“Are you cold?” Otabek asks.

Yuri bites his lip, and nods, the barest movement of his head.

Otabek asks nothing else. He reaches out and pulls down more starlight, threading it into Yuri’s hair. It reflects in his eyes.

“Sorry,” Yuri says in a small voice. He is afraid to ask for more, afraid it might be too much. But the pink flush is back on his skin, in his cheeks.

Otabek’s fingers deftly weave the last of the starlight around Yuri’s wrist. “It is all right,” he answers, and Yuri smiles.

As they walk back, Yuri stays a little closer to him, sneaking glances out of the corner of his eye. Otabek smiles back.

His hands sting, faintly. He does not tell Yuri.

The sun rises, and they sleep.

It is when another comet passes by that Otabek asks, hesitantly, what Yuri remembers. It has been a long while since the star shower, and Yuri is still here, kneeling on the barren landscape while Otabek clears the moondust away. His hair is a little longer now, wisping around his face.

“Do you still not know?”

Yuri looks up at him, confused. Otabek clears his throat and the question.

“Where you came from. You said you didn’t remember.”

Yuri blinks, then turns his face away. His hands are on his lap; his fingers twist around themselves.

“No,” he answers, small and shaky.

Otabek comes to sit beside him, and tucks a few strands of hair behind Yuri’s ear. He ignores the tiny pinpricks of pain that the gesture brings to his fingers.

“What do you remember?” he asks gently. When the starchild stays silent, he waits.

In quiet words and hesitations, Yuri tells him. He talks about the other starchildren, the ones he remembers -– Viktor, vivid and excitable; Yuuri, softer and milder; Mila, sharp and laughing. Yellow and blue and red, all their colors.

He talks about how the other starchildren were stronger, able to spin themselves into threads of light to travel wherever they pleased, and then find themselves again. And then, in a whisper, he says that he was not supposed to, but he had tried on his own. Viktor was supposed to take him when they left, but Yuri had been angry and stubborn.

He talks about falling, and being so frightened. And then he was here, and Otabek had found him.

Yuri sits there, in the shadows of the nighttime, so richly colored against the flatness of the moonscape and Otabek’s own ashy skin. His hands are folded so tightly on his lap; his shoulders are hunched. Even now, looking so young and anxious, he glows steady.

Otabek takes Yuri’s hand. The touch is so much warmer, a comfort almost painful.

“You will learn,” he says, with as much certainty as he can muster. “And then, you will find them again.”

There is a moment, a heartbeat, and then Yuri squeezes his hand in thanks.

(It hurts, the touch. He does not tell Yuri.)

The days go by. Little by little, more and more, Yuri finds the moon colder. Otabek spins more starlight, the tails of comets, the dust of meteors. He wakes a little earlier, to take a little more sunshine. The heat and the stinging sensation stay under his skin now, a rawness in his veins.

He braids the sunshine a little tighter, and smiles at Yuri in good morning.

One frightful night, they are careless. Otabek is so used to waking at moonrise, and sleeping when the sun comes, that he has never questioned letting Yuri follow the same routine. Yuri knows now why Otabek stays away from the edge of the shadows, from the sun side. But one night Yuri is too curious, and nervous steps take him to the boundary of dark and light. He can feel the warmth, the brightness; it resonates with him.

Carefully, cautiously, a hand reaches out.

(“Yuri!”)

It is subtle; at first, Yuri does not notice. But threads of light are unspinning themselves off his skin, winding their way towards the sun side; there is a burning under his skin that is soothing, somehow. It is different from when he had tried and unspun himself before. He stares at his hands in shock and awe.

Then a cold hand is pulling him back, away from the edge. The breath is knocked from his lungs in exhales of shimmering dust.

Otabek is looking at him with large, terrified eyes. His right forearm is bright red, almost singed. Yuri feels the comforting heat dissipate from his limbs and feels bereft.

“Are you all right?” Otabek asks, frantic. He extends his hands, intending to check for himself.

Yuri steps away.

Otabek’s hands still.

“Yuri?” Carefully, cautiously, his voice reaches out.

Yuri turns, and runs, and Otabek cannot see the tears that track down his cheeks like drops of sunlight.

When Otabek returns to his cavern, he finds Yuri there, curled in a corner and already asleep. Though he glows steadily, it is faint, and his arms are drawn around himself for warmth. Outside, the sun is beginning to rise. With a deep breath, Otabek takes his chances and reaches out, catching some of the sunshine. It scalds his fingers, light and warmth in too pure a form, but he cradles it in his palms and carries it into the cavern.

With shaking hands, he presses the sunlight into Yuri. The heat flares up, then disperses. Yuri’s breathing eases, his body slackens.

Otabek snatches his hands back and presses them to the cold ground, fighting against the burning sensation and the urge to cry out in pain. He knows what he has just done is too much, and too dangerous. He knows.

As he goes to tuck himself into sleep, waits for the cold and stiffness to creep back in, he thinks to himself that he will do it again and again anyway.

It is moonrise.

Otabek wakes to find Yuri already up and outside. The starchild has his hand raised, palm splayed out towards the sky. He glows, warm and bright. His starspun hair is longer now, framing his face.

"Yuri." Otabek calls the name softly.

Yuri stirs, as if from a trance. His hand falls to his side limply; his glow dims. "Sorry," he says with a little laugh, turning to Otabek. "I couldn't go back to sleep."

Otabek goes to join him, stretching his arms overhead. He looks at his skin, which is pale as the moon beside Yuri's rose and gold. He knows why Yuri is awake and outside. But he says nothing, and reaches out to catch the last threads of sunshine.

"Are they still out there, Otabek?" Yuri's voice is small, tinkling, unsure. It hurts for him to ask. "Do they still remember me?"

Otabek moves closer and starts to braid the sunshine into his hair. "Yes," he answers, careful and quiet. "You are not alone, Yuri."

You have me, he thinks to himself, but he knows it is not enough. And he has accepted this. So he will take care of this starchild for now, and for him, that is enough.

They stand in silence, then Yuri looks at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, a little timidly. Then tentatively, he holds out his hands and takes the threads of sunshine from Otabek. They wind up his arms, melting into his glow. The warmth leaves Otabek’s skin, but the prickling sensation remains.

Otabek’s hands linger a moment longer in the air, then drop by his side. He smiles.

“I understand.”

Yuri beams back, bright and relieved.

(And so very beautiful.)

The days go by. Yuri gets colder, Otabek becomes warmer. The stiffness takes longer to return to his limbs. On his chest, faint even against the paleness of his skin, tiny fractures begin to emerge. When Yuri is asleep, Otabek scrutinizes and traces them back to the spot over his heart. He rubs at the skin, trying to ease the sting with hands cooled by moon rock.

He hides them under his shirt during the night, smiling as he braids more starshine into Yuri’s hair, weaves him wristlets and circlets of sunlight. Once, a comet passes close by. Yuri watches in breathless delight as it crosses their sky, bright and burning. Otabek looks at that starspun hair, those big green eyes.

He snatches a burst of comet fire, recklessly, and tucks it behind Yuri’s ear.

It burns and burns all night, lighting up Yuri’s face almost as much as the starchild’s smile. It burns, like Otabek’s fingers and his heart.

Gradually, then quickly, Yuri grows stronger. He is a steady gold in the night, easy for Otabek to find and watch. If he exhales slowly and deliberately, he sends traces of stardust into the air around him.

One night, when Otabek is clearing the moondust and Yuri is sitting by a crater, watching the stars, the starchild calls to him excitedly. Yuri looks at his hands, smiling so wide it almost hurts. He glows vivid and intense.

The tiny flickers of starshine flit about Yuri’s fingers, and the starchild laughs and laughs, waving his hands. “Otabek, look!” he exclaims, unable to take his eyes off the sparks around his fingers. “I can make the lights appear!”

Otabek watches him, and something hurts in his chest, a different ache from the one in his heart that comes more often these days. But he smiles, because Yuri looks so beautiful, and so happy.

“Very pretty,” he says, touching the tip of his finger gently to one of the sparks. It flares up at the contact, then melts into his skin, warm and effervescent.

“I couldn’t do it before,” Yuri whispers, eyes wide and wondering.

“You’ve grown.” Otabek does not hide the affection in his voice. He reaches out, lays his fingers on Yuri’s cheek. “You’ll be able to leave soon.”

“I—” Yuri hesitates. He has grown. He can leave. He can find the other starchildren. He looks at Otabek and does not understand why the thought makes him sad. “I can leave.”

(I don’t want to.)

Yuri lowers his hands and the sparks disperse. He feels Otabek’s touch on his cheek, almost leans into it. (He’s not sure what stops him.) He swallows the apprehension in his throat.

“Can you come with me?” he asks, searching Otabek’s face. Those dark eyes shutter, just for a moment; there is a tightness at their corners that Yuri does not like.

“No, Yuri,” Otabek answers gently, withdrawing his hand. Yuri tips forward, chasing it.

It is almost sunrise. Otabek turns away, clears the last of the meteor pieces so they can return home. He leaves first, and Yuri finds he hates the sight of Otabek walking away.

One frightful night, Otabek is careless. He is more used to waking earlier than moonrise now, risking catching the sunlight to give it to Yuri, then cooling his singed fingers on the ground. He hides the cracks in his chest under his shirt, ignores the ache of his heart. But one night Yuri rouses a little early, and turns to find Otabek clutching at his chest with his face twisted in pain.

Quicker than he can breathe, Yuri is stumbling towards the cavern entrance, horrified and panicked. Otabek tries to shake it off, pull back, but Yuri pries his hands away and stares in alarm. The cracks are spreading, darkening, stark against Otabek’s pale skin. A redness like a rash colors his chest. Where they had touched the sunshine, his fingers are scalded.

Yuri almost takes those hands in his, but stops himself in time. He thinks of why Otabek stays away from the sun side, why he cannot take too much starlight.

The tears well up before he can stop them, and he curls his fingers against his cheeks to wipe them off.

“Yuri.” Unbelievably, Otabek is reaching up to him, to comfort and console. Yuri shakes his head violently, pulls back.

“No,” he says loudly. In the cooling air of the evening, Otabek’s blistered skin is starting to heal. But the cracks on his chest remain. Yuri cannot look.

“Enough,” he says through a sob. He fumbles for the ball of sunshine Otabek had been weaving and smashes it under his palms. The strands flare up, then scatter, and Yuri is left pressing his hands to the cold, hard ground.

“Yuri.” Otabek says his name again, distressed. Yuri hunches in on himself, pushes his fists to the ache that blooms in his chest and threatens to drown him.

“You can’t—” Yuri hiccups, sobs, pushes his fists in harder. “You can’t—” He cannot finish the sentence. It hurts. Otabek’s hands are still raised between them, fingers pink and stinging.

They stay there for a long moment, Yuri on his knees as he cries and Otabek beside him, able only to watch. He wants to touch Yuri, pull him close and tell him it is all right (it is all worth it).

“I’m sorry,” Yuri whispers to the night air, in a small and shattered voice.

No, Otabek thinks desperately, but his throat will not let him speak. He brushes a hand over Yuri’s hair instead, and lets the starchild cry.

Yuri starts to refuse the starshine, the dust of the meteors. He allows a little, just enough to get him by. Otabek gathers less, but the cracks on his chest are slow to heal. Yuri no longer follows him as he does the chores, and it is almost like the starchild is not here.

But when Otabek settles himself in to sleep, Yuri crawls over to sleep beside him. He keeps a careful distance, does not touch. But it is enough to warm Otabek in his sleep, just enough. Sometimes, Otabek looks over to Yuri, wonders what they must look like beside each other – the starchild with rich reds and golds coloring his skin, and the moonwalker with blue-white. Sometimes he steals tiny threads of Yuri’s light, to keep a little of Yuri with him.

There is something he is afraid of, and something he feels in his bones is certain to happen. But until it does, he will count down the nights they have together and savor this. He will keep this starchild beside him as long as he can.

Yuri wakes well before moonrise. Otabek is beside him, dark hair falling over his forehead. Deliberately, gently, Yuri untangles the last threads of sunshine that Otabek had braided into his hair at the start of their day, and weaves it around the moonwalker's wrist. It will not last as long on him, dispersing gradually into his skin, but Yuri hopes it will still be there when Otabek wakes.

"Thank you," he says, and leans to press a kiss to Otabek's cold cheek. It glows for a moment, pink and warm, a flush on his cheek. Then it fades, and is gone.

Slowly, Yuri leaves their cavern, their home. With certain steps, he walks to the edge of the darkness, at the entrance of the cave. Then with one more glance behind him, he unspins himself into the light. The last of his sparks twinkle in goodbye.

Otabek wakes, and the cavern is empty.

He sits there, feels as his heartbeats pass. He presses one hand to his chest, until it hurts. He lets it hurt.

Then he goes outside, and begins to clear the moon dust away.

(He does not catch any starlight. He lets himself be cold and stiff, lets every movement become demanding and painful. He feels his joints grind together. His chest is still too warm.)

The days go by. Otabek sits in his cavern and watches the stars. He feels the chill and the rigor in his bones now. The cracks on his chest have faded. His moon circles its world; Otabek circles the shadow side of his home, listless and tired.

Then one night, there is a star shower. Otabek looks at it, follows the trails and wonders who they are. He wants to call out, do you know him? He wants to know, is he safe?

(He wants to ask, is he happy?)

When the star shower is done and the moonrise comes, Otabek hesitates at the entrance of his cavern. He fees warm, a sensation almost unfamiliar to him now. It soothes his muscles, his chest.

He steps out onto the landscape and begins his chores.

With his heart in his throat, he checks the craters. He finds no lost starchild this time.

On his way back to his cavern, Otabek catches a wisp from a red star. He winds it around his wrist, feels it seep into his skin.

He takes a little more the next night.

The days go by. Otabek spins his starlight, does his chores. Grows a little older, a little taller. Goes on with his life.

The starchild burns bright in memory.

The cracks on his chest are long gone.

It is moonrise.

Otabek rouses from his sleep. His movements are stiff; it is cold. His footsteps echo in the small cavern as he makes his way outside, where the starlight greets him. He reaches out, winding the last few threads of sunshine through his fingers. They glow rose and gold against his skin. Carefully, he presses them to his chest, closes his eyes as he warms.

Above him, the stars twinkle.

Otabek goes about the daily chores. He checks for fallen asteroids. He clears the area around his cavern of moondust and bits of meteor. He hums a little tune picked up from a passing comet.

He checks the craters in case something has fallen in.

Something has, or not quite.

Someone is standing at the lip of one of the craters, dusting themselves off. Tiny flickers of stardust scatter with their movements. Otabek stares and stares, wonders if perhaps he is seeing wrongly.

The starchild looks up, and Otabek feels his world stop.

“Yuri,” he breathes out, and then louder, “Yuri.” And Yuri is there, running towards him, laughter carrying across the horizon.

“You’re here,” Yuri says, voice cracking, once he is close enough. He stops a few steps away, panting, looking Otabek up and down as if he cannot believe his own eyes.

(He cannot, not yet. He had been so afraid that he would return, and find only a moon and no more moonwalker to tell him stories.)

“I am here,” Otabek answers. His throat feels tight. He wants to reach out, but if he does, and Yuri disappears before his eyes into the starlight—

The starchild closes the distance, smiles. He is taller now; his hair is longer, still starspun. He meets Otabek’s eyes and there is the green Otabek has missed, the brightness he has fallen for.

“You came back,” he says softly, wonderingly.

Yuri smiles, painfully wide, bright and pure. “I met a man on the moon,” he says; his hands reach up and over to Otabek. “He gave me a home.”

Yuri’s palms press over Otabek’s chest, over his heart. They are warm, a gentle heat that soothes, banishes the stiffness and the cold from Otabek. Yuri is his own star, now; as he is, Otabek has no more need to spin starshine.

He reaches out, brushes his fingers over Yuri’s cheeks, the rose and gold.

He leans in, through the stardust in the air between them.

He kisses Yuri.

Warm and gentle and real--

Yuri kisses back.

[ladyselene]

Sky of Endless Love: Chapter 1 (Y!!!OI Fic)

AO3

Chapter 2

Inspired by the wonderful Day & Night AU by @beanpots. Please pay their lovely blog a visit!

Series: Yuri!!! On Ice

Rating: G (Will change in later chapters due to sexual themes.)

Words: 3 200+

Warnings: Dramatic mythos, mutual yearning, and an overdose of figurative cheddar cheese true to my style (read: eventual fluffy love and romance). Phichit is the Best Friend™ in the entirety of the galaxy, Yuuri and Victor are smitten and pining dorks, and Yurio is done.

Summary: In a Realm far above the Earth, the King of Day leaves behind roses of vivid red - all in the hopes of having his feelings reach the King of Night.

Meanwhile, Yuuri wonders why Victor keeps dropping his roses.

(More notes can be found at the end of the fic.)

In times long past, at the Beginning of All, there came to be the Sun and the Moon, guardians of Earth.

The Sun was older of the two deities. They were noble and radiant, burning ever brightly, and under their light life would always awaken, blooming and prospering. Other deities held the Sun in adoration, and in time the humans of the Earth would also gaze upon the Sun’s glory, singing songs of reverence of the wonders that their golden rays brought to life upon land.

The Moon came not long after the Sun. They were gentle and beautiful, guiding the lost and carrying on their head a veil of rest that they would cover the Earth with, and under which the weary could sleep. But the Moon was weighed down by a heavy heart - for unlike the Sun and the stars that were theirs to care for, the Moon did not shine, and so they isolated themselves in shame.

Yet it happened that the Sun once crossed paths with the Moon, who was gracefully dancing among the stars in a quiet corner of the Milky Way. Upon their meeting, the Sun fell deeply in love, and in their eyes no one had ever shined so brightly. The Moon had always admired the Sun from afar, encountering the radiant deity in their most wonderful dreams time after time, and in their heart love also lay hidden. Their feelings only grew as the Sun and Moon opened their hearts to one another, dancing together in the vast heavens, guarding the young Earth together side by side. In time, the golden rays that the Sun showered upon the Moon in love and adoration turned into a silver glow of their own, their lights mingling together and painting the sky in vibrant colours, and for a long time they embraced each other in the sky.

However, their happiness soon became frowned upon. The rest of the galaxy could not fathom why the revered and radiant Sun, adored by all, would have fallen in love with the sensitive and demure Moon. Envy grew in their hearts towards the Moon who, in their eyes, had stolen the Sun away, and the humans of the Earth grew equally envious, feeling that the Sun’s rays now shone more upon the Moon than their lands.

This caused a heavy burden to once more grow silently and steadily in the heart of the Moon. As dearly as they loved the Sun, the Moon became pained with doubt and fear, and in time they could no longer believe themselves worthy of love, or trust in the sincerity of the Sun’s feelings. Hoping to be selfless and free the Sun from the spell they thought was holding their beloved captive, the Moon tried to run away, but their hand was grasped by another. It was the Sun, pleading for the Moon to remain by their side.

“If you love me, you will let me go,” cried the Moon.

“If you love me, you will stay,” the Sun cried back.

But the Moon could not bring themselves to stay any longer. With great pain in their heart, the Moon bid farewell to the Sun, fleeing as their beloved was left behind, paralyzed by the shock of their loss.

Their parting was a shared regret. With every moment apart, their heartache only grew. After a time, the Sun and Moon both began to look for the other, wishing to mend their bond - but unbeknownst to them, they were running in a circle around the Earth, always on opposite sides, always reaching for the back of the other. The Sun and Moon continued to yearn for one another, weaving together a broken story of love. Yet hope remained in their hearts, even as deep sorrow gnawed away relentlessly at their core. In time they both knew they could not go on any longer - but there was something they could do.

The Sun and The Moon both used the last of their powers to create new life, embedding their spirit and magic into beings of their own. From the Sun came Day: a being created from golden rays, clouds and their silver linings, of bright blue sky and various shades of light. From the Moon came Night: a being made from silver moonlight, the softness of the veil of rest, from glimmering stars, shadows and the dark blue sky. After giving life to Day and Night, the Sun and Moon enclosed their souls into orbs of light that would forever shine upon the domains of their children. In their hearts, they pleaded for the Universe to guide their two rulers together – for through them, the Sun and the Moon could also be united once again.

If only a brighter eternity could be born, springing from another tale in history.

—

“Another one?”

Dusk had just fallen by the call of its Herald, and Yuuri, King of Night, stood in front of a throne of silver and gold, picking up a rose of vivid red that sat upon it. A vibrant flora of the same kind had been devotedly greeting him in the Sky Court for a long time now, always on the throne on his arrival.

“Hey, Yuuri, what do you have there?”

Phichit - Herald of Dawn, Viceroy of the Moon Realm, and Night’s most beloved friend since eons ago - made his way behind him, resting his chin on Yuuri’s cloak-covered shoulder and noting the flower in Night’s silver-blue hands with great curiosity.

“Phichit,” the King of Night acknowledged his Viceroy, eyes fixated upon the flower with a look of interest and slight worry. “It’s another rose. Victor must have dropped it again,” Yuuri answered, thoughtful. “Strange… this has been happening for weeks now.”

Phichit’s eyes lit up at the words, and he straightened his back, fingers drawing to his chin in thought. “Weeks, you say? Isn’t that a bit too much to be an accident?”

Yuuri turned his head around to look at his friend, brows furrowed in a silent question of What do you mean? But it only made Phichit grin.

“That can only mean one thing,” Phichit continued, the upward curve of his lips widening, the stars in his dark eyes twinkling. Suddenly, Yuuri understood. His eyes opened wide and his cheeks were quickly dusted with a deep blue, and he stammered.

“No, no, no, don’t say it–”

But it was all in vain, for of course Phichit would say it.

“He totally likes you!” the Viceroy chirped, and the thought made Yuuri’s heart feel wrecked and much too warm. 

“Eeeh?” his voice rushed out of him in the form of something akin to a squeak, embarrassment and disbelief making him sound less than regal. “N-no, that’s not it, I think,” Yuuri said, and the blue tint on his features deepened. “He loves the gardens of Sun Realm. Maybe he likes to decorate with the flowers, or wear them…”

Phichit was having none of it. Typical Yuuri, to not believe the good that’s in front of him. This needed further prodding.

 “So, when did this start, exactly?” he inquired.

“After the Celebration of the Solar Eclipse,” said Yuuri.

“The Solar Eclipse?” Oh, the things I miss out on!” Phichit wailed.

The Eclipse Celebrations were grand gatherings upon which the kings and the people of the two Heavenly Realms – the Realm of the Sun and the Realm of the Moon - would come together at the Court of the Sky, which resided in the middle of their kingdoms. Eclipses are created when Day and Night join each other at the balcony of the Sky Court’s castle, the highest peak of the Middle Realm that overlooked all of Earth, and use their powers to position the Sun and the Moon beside each other in the Heavens. The Eclipses came in Solar and Lunar forms, and though they differed, they created equally beautiful sights for the Earth and Sky to behold.

Under normal circumstances, the Herald of Dusk would take part in the celebrations along with the King of Night, but a supernova had just occurred in one of the Moon Realm’s constellations during the eve of the Eclipse: tending to the stars was a task that Yuuri had always personally seen to, but only the Night King could raise the Moon for the celebration – and so Phichit had stayed behind and taken charge as Night’s Viceroy when Yuuri’s priority called him to the gathering. It had certainly not been the same without Phichit by his side.

“I don’t think you missed out on much,” Yuuri offered in consolation.

“But something obviously happened, for Day to shower you with roses!” Yuuri had that uncertain frown again, looking like he might protest, but Phichit gave a gentle squeeze to his arm and pressed on. “Come now, Yuuri. King Victor leaves a rose on the Sky Throne at the end of each day, for weeks? I doubt they’d fall on the throne if they were sewn into his clothes, and one rose makes for a bland decoration! They’re a sign of affection - he must have fallen for you during this Solar Eclipse!”

“Somehow, I find that really hard to believe,” was Yuuri’s quiet response.  

“Yuuri, you have no reason to think that,” Phichit assured him. “Think back to the party, did something happen? Did you finally manage to talk to him properly?”

“I… no. Honestly, I can’t recall. I think I slept through most of the celebration.”

“You slept?” Phichit repeated.

“After creating the Eclipse,” Yuuri elaborated, struggling to remember the rest, “I think I might have drank too much, and fell asleep when everyone was still mingling. I only remember being woken up afterwards by Otabek.”

For a moment, his Viceroy only stared, stunned, and Yuuri felt embarrassed at the thought of falling asleep at a gathering with all their people present. Despite being a beloved and respected ruler in his realm, he had never been one for crowds, and did not fare well with them – Phichit had always been the more social of the two.

After a few seconds of wide-eyed staring, Dusk let out a melodic sound of laughter. “Oh, Yuuri,” Phichit said. “This is what happens when I leave you alone!”

“It’s hardly funny,” Yuuri protested, though a smile tugged at his lips in the light of Phichit’s joy.

“I personally think it’s very funny,” Phichit replied airily.

“Phichit,” Yuuri said through an escaped chuckle, and gently elbowed his friend’s arm in mock punishment.

The Viceroy conceded. “Okay, okay. So, can you tell me what you did to the roses?”

“I asked them to be returned.”

“You returned them?!”

The King of Night looked mournful. “They can’t survive without the Sun. If I took them with me, they would wilt in a heartbeat.”

“Oh… you’re right,” Phichit realized. “But Yuuri, you have to do something! Answer his call. How long have you yearned for him?”

Yuuri wondered into the depths of his memories. His first encounter with Victor, eons ago, happened in the clear blue of the Realm of Sky, above the Earth. Yuuri was so young then, created not long ago, still struggling with grasping life and wandering aimlessly in the vastness of the Heavens.

Then, he saw Victor dancing.

Out of all that Yuuri has witnessed in his existence, it remained the most beautiful sight. The strands of Day’s long hair were made out of silver linings and his skin of pale white light, and the blue sky lived in his eyes. Victor moved as gracefully as air and shined as brilliantly as the Sun, and as he danced in the Sky with a smile on his face and created clouds as he twirled, Day did not look lost at all – he looked, Yuuri thought, as if he had found himself. Night could only gaze upon him, entranced.

Then, he found purpose.

But Yuuri had never managed to truly connect with King Victor of the Sun. Their paths have crossed countless times, as Day and Night, as kings, but there was an aching feeling of distance in Yuuri’s heart that he had never managed to cut away. It felt as if the Sky was there to separate them even as they would stand together to create an Eclipse, or when they would see each other in the Middle Realm above the Earth, raising the Sun and the Moon in their turn. Victor was too mesmerizing, and burned too brightly. Yuuri had come to consider his fate blessed for simply being able to see him, however briefly.

But this. Yuuri was still struggling to admit that this was happening – that the red rose that had now come to sit upon the throne Day and Night shared would truly be for him. The thought of having Victor’s affection made him so happy that the possibility of it being a misunderstanding was painful.

“It’s been too long, Yuuri,” Phichit spoke from beside him, calling him back to reality. “Answer him,” he repeated.

The Dusk Herald’s encouragement was not in vain. It would have been a lie to say that he was not bothered by doubt, but Yuuri had already come to a conclusion in his heart. I don’t want to throw this chance away.

He gave Phichit a nod of determination.

 “At the end of the next day,” said Yuuri, “I’ll answer him.” Phichit smiled in response.

“Now we’re talking! Well then, My King, I think it’s about time.”

“Right.”

Dusk fell, giving way to Night as Yuuri summoned the Moon to shine upon the Earth along with the stars. The small Moon around Yuuri’s neck, crafted from a small fragment of the silver orb, transformed along it to take the shape of a waning crescent. As he sat upon the throne, he found himself gazing at the rose again, still holding it with gentle fingers.

“It’s really beautiful,” said Phichit.

“Mm,” Yuuri agreed.

“Will I have it returned?”

“Yes, please.”

—

“He loves me, he loves me not…”

“Victor.”

“He loves me not, he loves me…”

“Oi, Victor!”

Dawn roared at the King of Day, looking at the sight in front of him in irritation. Victor had been daydreaming the time away in his chambers, currently plucking away the petals of a daisy as his beloved dog lay beside him, and speaking absolute nonsense that his Viceroy had just about had enough of.

When he heard a familiar voice shouting his name, Victor turned around to see Yuri standing at the entrance, a frown on his face and a pile of papers stacked under his arm.

“Ah, Yuri,” Victor smiled in greeting and stood up, setting a half-plucked daisy on the bed before making his way to the Dawn Herald. “I didn’t hear you coming.”

“What a surprise,” Yuri huffed in response. “Here,” he shoved the papers to Victor, “Reports on the Sun’s condition.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll get to these in a moment. Is there anything else?”

 “You’ve been ridiculous ever since the party and you need to stop,” the Viceroy added.

The Day King laughed. “That’s hardly what I meant by asking.”

Yuri hesitated. Then, “The rose got returned.”

Ah.

Victor smiled, eyes downcast. “I see.”

“I still don’t get why you’re being like this.”

“It’s love,” he answered. “I can’t help it.”

During the past several weeks, Victor had always left a red rose to sit upon the Sky Throne after every summoned day. He hoped that they would send his feelings to wherever the King of Night wandered.

After the Eclipse, Victor had not stopped thinking about Yuuri.

The celebration had begun as always: Yuuri joined him at the balcony of the Sky Castle as their people would bear witness from below, and the beings of Earth from lands far away. He would greet Night with his warmest smile, and Night would smile softly in response before turning his head away. They would raise the Sun and the Moon together, and then part too quickly as Yuuri left in haste. Victor had never run after him, but it had never meant that he would not have wanted them to remain side by side, even if a little longer. For eons Victor had mournfully wondered if Yuuri had grown to dislike him for a reason or another: was that why he never stayed? Perhaps he did not want to be any closer than need be?

Only then, during a Solar Eclipse that Victor had assumed to be like any other, everything changed, and all was no longer as always. As Victor’s eyes followed Yuuri, he noted how his fellow king had busied himself with the wine made from the grapes of the Sun-kissed gardens of Day’s realm. It was rare for him to drink – Victor gathered it was due to the absence of Dusk, who so often was the company of the demure Night. But when Yuuri eventually slipped away from the crowd and travelled deeper into the halls of the castle, Victor could not help but follow.

Then, Yuuri asked him for a dance. And dance they did.

As they moved together to the rhythm of echoing music, side by side and fingers intertwined, Victor could feel himself come to life. He was always held in reverence as the King of Day, and the burden of that title was greater than anyone would believe - but for a moment in time, there were no restrictions or expectations to hold him down, nor a need for forced smiles. It was a feeling of warmth that he had forgotten long ago.

They danced and laughed the day away, holding each other tightly as they did, and Victor found himself hoping he could stay in Yuuri’s embrace for the rest of eternity. That wish did not quite come true… but it was alright, Victor thought, in the light of the other gift Yuuri gave him before they parted. With sparkling stars in his eyes and deep blue dust on his cheeks, he gave him words.

“When it’s time for the Lunar Eclipse, won’t you dance together with me in the Sky?”

Upon an Eclipse, Victor had come to life, and fallen in love.

“Hey, Idiot King.”

Ah. I completely forgot.

Victor blinked his eyes in order to wake himself from the reverie. “What is it, Yuri?”

“If it’s such a big deal, why don’t you just go and see him already? The King of Night.”

“That wouldn’t do,” replied Victor.

“Why?” Dawn pressed, uncomprehending.

“Because I need an answer from him first,” Victor told him. He had loved every moment they had spent together during the Eclipse, but he had not heard from Yuuri since then as he thought he would. Victor had expressed his feelings with red roses, the flowers that spoke of love in the language of the flora, in the hopes of reaching Yuuri’s heart and encouraging him to call for him in kind.

Yet the messengers of his love kept coming back without a word, and he knew not why.

“It sure doesn’t seem like you’re getting an answer,” Yuri said, and his frown deepened. “Really, how long are you going to keep this up? I can’t look at this.”

Victor hummed in thought. He walked to the large windows on the opposite side of the room, and looked at the colourful gardens below, alive with Sun and Earth flora alike. If only he could make Yuuri understand how long he had been dreaming of him.

And then an idea came to him, and the blue of his eyes sparkled.

“I’ve decided!”

The Viceroy stared at him. “Hah?”  

“I know what I’m going to do,” Victor declared. “This time, I can reach his heart.”

  - To Be Continued. -

Sara’s notes: This fic could alternatively be titled: “The Tale of the Two Pining Kings”. *laughs*

As formerly mentioned, this story was inspired by the AU created by beanpots, and you can follow everything related to the story here. I fell in love the moment I saw this picture, and then the AU just kept getting more wonderful, and I became inspired. I love Y!!!OI dearly, so I’m happy to finally contribute to the series. (Thank you, @beanpots, for the AU and for igniting that spark in me!)

Oh, also: I imagined the characters to be something akin to the gods of Greek mythology, so hence the human-like customs and behaviour. I also wanted to stay true to the canon as much as I could. This chapter was mostly dedicated to building up the story, but don’t worry, Victor and Yuuri will certainly see each other in the future.

Thank you very much for reading, and be well!

[katiefrog217]

The Tale of the Sun and Moon

I created both this picture and story for the YOI, and both are based of the Day and Night AU by @beanpots​ ! I started this before their official post about how their AU worked came out. I Hope you like this! Also posted to my Quotev and Deviant art under the name Katiefrog217. Quotev: https://www.quotev.com/story/9025230/Tale-of-the-Sun-and-Moon-Victuuri DeviantArt: http://katiefrog217.deviantart.com/art/Tale-of-the-Sun-and-Moon-Victure-x-Yuuri-657073177 ______________________________________________________________ For centuries humans had told tales of the Sun and the Moon, weaving many stories that told of how the Moon chased the Sun. Victor, the King of Day, never though much of these tales and dismissed them as silly human ramblings. Neither the Night nor the Day chased the other; rather, they were merely "two sides of the same coin", as the humans would put it. When the time came for the setting to change, one would only have to flip the coin onto it's other side. They followed each other: nothing less and nothing more.        Victor sighed as he cast his gaze from the human realm to his own. The realm of Day was bright and warm, and Victor basked in the rays of the Sun as he thought about the Night. He had never met nor seen the King of Night, though he had known of his existence from the beginning of Time itself. A small part of himself registered the existence of his counterpart despite never crossing paths, and he casually wondered if it was the same for the other King. 

It wasn't like there was no way for him to meet the mysterious deity; there were moments between the shift of the realms when he could meet the King of Night briefly, but when the Herald of Dusk arrived to announce the coming of Night, Victor usually chose to move on with the Sun. It wasn't that he didn't want to meet the other King, but rather he saw no need to stay, and the cold that Dusk brought with him chilled him to the bone at times. It wasn't uncomfortable, but he preferred the warmth of his own realm to that of the Night's. There were also the times at Dawn when they could have met, but by the time he arrived the other King was nowhere to be found. It was also possible for the Kings to cross over into each other's realms, but he doubted that they would be able to stay for very long, so Victor had never tried nor had a reason to. For as long as he could remember, it had always been that way between the two of them: existing side-by-side, but never meeting. Perhaps it was time for that to change, Victor though.        Victor sighed as he wandered his realm. While humans, animals, and Fae alike worshiped him for the warmth and light the Sun brought to the land, most chose to keep a distance from him and only struck up a conversation when approached. The only being that treated him normally was Yuri, the Herald of Dawn, but the boy chose to spend his time elsewhere more often than with Victor. He began to wonder if it was the same for the King of Night as well, and entertained the thought of the two of them keeping each other company. Did he have a name as well? Surely he must, and he was curious to know what it was. Victor fondly remembered the day when he gave himself his own name: he had grown interested in the fact that the Fae and humans alike chose to name themselves, giving them their own unique identities to distinguish themselves from one another. Up until that point, he himself had lacked a name, simply being known as the Day, the Sun, or just the King. However, while he ruled the realm of the Day and the Sun he was neither of the two, so he wanted to give himself his own identity. Being named the King meant nothing, for there was another King that roamed the plains and there were many so-called kings in the human realm. No, he wanted something to distinguish him from every other king out there, he wanted his own name. For many days he had mulled over it, asking around for suggestions and listening in on the humans for inspiration, eventually picking the name "Victor". It felt regal, and suited him well. Perhaps the Night had also chosen himself a similar name, one that suited him best. If that was so, what was he like?

"Why do you worship the Night?" Victor asked an owl out of curiosity one day. While most creatures worshiped the Day, there were a few that chose the Night instead, and the owl was one such creature. He rarely saw one in his realm, but from time to time one would appear, and today was one such day. For once, Victor was glad to be a deity, as it enabled him to communicate with all the creatures around him. "Radiantly beautiful as your realm may be, the realm of the Night shines just as bright on its own," the owl hooted.  "The land of Night is blanketed in a veil of darkness, illuminated only by the Moon and Stars that decorate the sky. Shadows merge with the land as fireflies dance above the plains, creating a wonderland that is ruled only by one's imagination. While the Realm of the Sun is active and full of song, the Realm of the Moon is quiet and lull. Creatures talk in hushed whispers that are lost to the wind as those who worship the Day slumber, tucked safely away in their homes as they wait for the sun to rise once again.  The Night is a place where imagination blooms and dreams are abundant, as those who do not dream dance silently, their voices culled but their bodies weave elaborate stories that no song can tell. No flowers bloom in the realm, for it is much too cold, but the scenery is ever-changing as the Wisps who paint the skies arrange the stars differently every night, creating constellations based on the tales that humans tell in the world below." From the owl's words, Victor tried to imagine the realm of the Night: he knew of the stars, for they lingered at Dawn and appeared every time at Dusk, but he could not imagine what it was like to see them scattered completely across the sky.

"And what of the King?" Victor whispered, his voice unusually quiet. The owl shifted on it's perch, ruffling it's feathers as he cooed at him, their eyes large and soft.

"The King," the owl said fondly, "is much like the realm he rules over. He is gentle and soft like the moonlight itself, and very, very kind. Like most of the creatures that inhabit his realm, the King is quite shy, but he is friendly and gets along with all of those around him. He could not hurt a fly even if he wanted to. He is a benevolent King, and treats all his subjects well." Victor tried to imagine such a being, but found that he could not. The Fae in his realm were far from shy, in fact it was quite the opposite. They could be loud and annoying at times, and quiet often they were mischievous. More than once he had found himself a victim of their harmless pranks. Yuri, on the other hand, was angry and abrasive, and could get violent with him if provoked. Inside Victor knew he had a soft heart, but it was quite often hidden under his tough exterior, so trying to imagine someone the opposite of the Herald of Dawn was quite a challenge and made him even more curious about the King of Night. 

"Does the King have a name?"

"I know not the King's name, though I have heard whispers that he has one." The owl, Victor could see, was quite tired despite and answering all his questions politely. This was not unusual, since the bird of prey was a being of the Night and usually slept during the time the Sun was up. After expressing his gratitude to the bird, Victor excused himself so that it could rest. He walked in a daze, lost in thought about the other realm and it's Ruler. As he traveled he realized that the Night and the Day were never truly without the other: pieces of both realms existed within the other. In the Day, Night existed in the shadows and areas where the light did not touch, and for Night it was the stars; tiny suns that gave off no heat but helped illuminate the sky. It seemed that the more Victor learned, the more he noticed and grew curious about. The Night had a name, and he desperately wanted to know it. 

Luckily, he didn't have to wait long.

During the next Dawn, Victor wandered the plains of the merged realms absently, all while keeping an eye out for his elusive counterpart. The Sun had nearly fully risen and thus far the Night deity had somehow evaded him, despite his best efforts and he sighed. He had eagerly awaited Dawn and when it finally came he practically bolted across open field. So impatient was he that he had nearly stepped into the Night Realm before Yuri was ready, earning him an angry scolding and a few kicks from the Herald, but that was okay. Victor had been intent on finally making an effort to meet the Night Ruler that he couldn't help himself, but was crestfallen to find that the King had all but vanished with the Moon. It was unfortunate, but all he had to do was wait until Dusk arrived, for Dusk was the one time when Night could not escape him. He would just have to be patient and wait.

He hated waiting. Sighing again, Victor turned to start heading back the direction he had come when something on the ground caught his eye. Bending down, the King reached out and picked up the sparkling object before holding it out in front of him to get a better look. The object was circular in shape and the color of fresh snow. It glowed softly in the morning light, and upon closer inspection Victor found that it was made up of small stars in various patterns; each pattern was made up of a few stars connected together by a thread of silver starlight. Though the patterns never touched or intertwined, they stayed bound together, as if a magical force kept them there.  It was cold to the touch and breathtaking to look at. 

    Fascinated, Victor turned the circlet slowly in his hands, being careful not to drop it or put too much pressure on it. While it was probably stronger than it looked, it felt fragile in his hands and he didn't want to damage something so beautiful. Despite never having seen anything quite like it before, in many way the silver circulate reminded him of his own crown, and he felt as if it was to be worn in a similar fashion. In the back of his mind Victor wondered if one of the denizens of the Night Realm had dropped it and if it was somehow possible to return it before daybreak. He had a sneaking suspicion that the crown would not last long in his realm. Even as he watched, the stars forming the crown grew dimmer and dimmer as the Sun rose higher. Frowning, Victor was just about to tuck the circlet into his cloak when he heard someone speak up behind him, startling him and causing him to nearly drop his prize. Regaining his composure, the flustered King turned to see where the voice had come from, only to find himself mesmerized by what he saw. Two figures in dark attire were making their way towards him, seemingly unaware of his presence. One he recognized to be Phichit, the Herald of Dusk, but the taller man walking next to him was completely foreign. The man seemed to be the embodiment of Night himself: his skin was a pale shade of blue moonlight, which contrasted perfectly against the black hair on his head. The clothes he wore were a shade of dark blue that complimented his skin, and his cloak seemed to be made out of a piece of the Night Sky. It fanned out behind him as he walked, the edges turning a beautiful shade of purple as it caught the morning light, while the stars tailored into the cloth glimmered softly. Wherever the man walked, a trail of starlight seemed to follow, falling from his cloak to the ground where it sparkled briefly before fading away. A choker as dark as his hair encircled his neck, adorned with what looked to be a single silver disk. While he could not make out the color of his eyes due to the distance between them, the King of the Day was sure that they were just as lovely as the rest of him. Victor knew, without a doubt, that he had to be the Ruler of the Night. The two moved slowly across the field, their heads turned down as they walked, almost as if they were searching for something. Victor wanted to go to them so he could introduce himself, but his feet seemed rooted to the ground. When he tried to call out to them, he found that the words were stuck in his throat and that his tongue was tied. Somehow, the mere sight of the Night had rendered him unable to move, nor could he bring himself to tear his gaze away from the beautiful deity. Steadily, the men made their way toward them, and only when they were close enough did Victor catch their conversation.

"Are you sure it didn't fall somewhere around here?" Phichit asked, but the deity shook his head, a worried frown tugging at his lips as he frantically looked at the ground.

"It must have fallen off when the Nymphs tripped me," the King replied nervously, "but I can't remember exactly where that was. If it was still Night I would have a better idea, but at Dawn the terrain changes, so I can't be sure." Despite the anxiety in his voice, Victor found that he had quickly come to love it; it was sweet, soft, gentle and as clear as a bell, and he knew that he would never tire of hearing it. Phichit sighed as he stretched his arms above his head before casting his gaze across the field. When his eyes came to rest on Victor, a wide smile spread across his face before he turned to whisper something excitedly to his King. The Ruler of Night looked startled and was about to say something in response, however he didn't have a chance as Phichit grabbed his wrist and started dragging him in Victor's direction, waving cheerfully as the man stumbled behind him.

"Victor! Have you seen a crown made of starlight anywhere perchance?" The Herald called out as he strode forward, ignoring to protests of his captive.

   Victor felt his heart beat faster with every step they took until they came to a halt in front of him. For a moment, he couldn't speak as he gazed down at the King of the Night as if transfixed by him. However, his brain eventually registered the boy's question and he shook himself out of it, offering a kind smile as he held up the circlet for them to see. "Might this be it?" He asked, watching the Night's face to see his reaction. Night's head snapped up as he mentioned the crown and Victor was finally able to make out the color of his eyes. He expected them to be silver or of some similar Night color, but was pleasantly surprised when found himself staring into the depths of chocolate brown instead. They were deep, clear, and betrayed every emotion the King of Night felt. Victor watched as those beautiful eyes flashed in relief as they fixed themselves on the crown he held, their owner standing a little up a little too fast as he stepped forward. 

"Yes! U-Um, yes that is it! I-I um... T-Thank you for finding it! I..! Ah..!" The King stuttered, flailing awkwardly and looking as if he wanted to take the crown and yet be polite about it at the same time. Victor chuckled as he reached out and carefully placed the crown upon the King's head, making the other blush. "You should be more careful next time," Victor joked, giving the Night King a genuine smile. His heart skipped a beat when the other offered a small smile in return.

"Y-Yeah, I should," The Night Ruler laughed nervously as he fidgeted, his eyes wide and he looked from the ground to Victor and back. There was a moment of silence between them before Victor spoke again. "Do you have a name?" He asked, startling the his new associate. Apparently, he hadn't been expecting the question.

"Do I..? I-I do! Sort of... One of the Wisps... Hiroko... she named me Yuuri," The Ruler practically squeeked, and Victor smiled to keep from laughing. What a coincidence it had to be that he shared a name with the Herald of Dawn, though the two were not alike in the slightest.

"Yuuri," he said, trying to mimic the way his counterpart had pronounced it, earning him another blush. "Well, Yuuri, my name is Victor. It is a pleasure to finally meet you," Victor said politely, holding out his hand. Yuuri's eyes flicked down at it and then back up to before he smiled and took it. Victor noted that his hand was cold, much like the crown, though not unpleasantly so. "It's nice to meet you too, Victor," Yuuri replied warmly, and Victor's heart skipped again. They hung there for a moment before Phichit cleared his throat, causing them both to jump, for they had forgotten the Herald of Dusk was even there. "I hate to break the two of you up, seeing as you have just met, but it's nearly Day and we can't stay here any longer," the boy reminded them, motioning to the rising sun. It was close to clearing the horizon. Without another word, he grabbed Yuuri's hand and began to drag him off once again, looking back over his shoulder at the King of Day and winking as he did so. "Sorry, but we gotta run!"

Yuuri stumbled as he was dragged, but managed to call a quick goodbye to Victor before he disappeared. They were gone so suddenly that Victor was left stunned as to what just happened. Looking down at his hand where he could still feel the cold left by Yuuri's touch, he wondered  if it had all been a dream. He was forced out of his reverie as he was sent sprawling to the ground by a surprise kick from behind, delivered by none other than the Herald of Dawn himself. Yuri did not look amused as he stared down at his King. "Stop looking so star-stuck already, it's disgusting," he grumbled and Victor couldn't help but laugh as he looked up at the sky. For the first time, he was looking forward to sunset. 

After that day, Victor made a point of seeking out Yuuri as much as he could. At first, he was only able to meet his fellow king at Dusk, as he always eluded him at Dawn. Eventually, he enlisted the Phichit's help to keep Yuuri busy long enough for Victor to catch up with him, a job that the Herald seemed almost too excited to do. Sometimes they talked, and other times they walked or sat in silence near each other, enjoying the other's presence. Yuuri was nervous and fidgeted a lot when they first started interacting, but eventually he relaxed and opened up to him. They talked about a variety of things, from their realms and duties to the things they liked to do when they were bored. One time Victor had noticed that the disk on Yuuri's choker kept changing, and when he asked him about it he learned about the phases of the moon and how his choker reflected the current phase. Victor found it the topic fascinating, since the Sun never changed itself. In turn, Victor told Yuuri all about the flowers and plants that populated his realm and about all the things that took place during the day. They would go on and on about it until they were eventually forced to separate. Victor was sad each time he had to go, but he knew it wouldn't be long until he was able to see Yuuri again, though he wished Dusk and Dawn lasted longer than they did. The time spent together was so short compared to their time spent apart, but he treasured it all the same.

"Can you dance, Yuuri?" Victor asked absently one morning. He was sitting in a meadow with Yuuri, whom had been telling him about the dances that the Nymphs in his realm liked to do. 

"Dance? M-Me? Ah..." Yuuri blushed, toying with his shirt sleeves as he glanced up at him. "I do... only a little though! Minako, one of the Nymphs I mentioned earlier, taught me how to." Victor smiled as he stood, grabbing Yuuri by the hand as he did so and dragged him up off the ground.

"Let's dance, Yuuri!" Victor said, pulling the flustered King close to him.

"W-Wait! Victor! Right now? It's almost Day! We really shouldn't!" Yuuri stuttered, looking up at the sky. Indeed, the Sun had risen pretty far, but it still hung pretty low on the horizon. Victor pouted, pushing out his bottom lip for added effect.

"Aww, but Yuuri! No one in my realm wants to dance with me, and I'm not going to dance with the Fae again, least I get stuck in another trap of theirs," he whined, internally cringing at the memory. He very clearly remembered the time when he asked Mila - a red-headed Fae - to dance with him on a clear summer day. Everything had gone well... up until the point he found himself suddenly trapped in a patch of brambles with no way out. It had taken him quite a while to free himself due to his robes. He never trusted the Fae after that. Yuuri was quiet for a moment, and then he laughed.

"Alright, alright, fine! Just this once I'll indulge you," Yuuri chuckled, beaming up at him with a wide and genuine smile on his face. Victor felt his heart beat the same way it always did when Yuuri smiled, but at the same time something else happened, something completely and utterly new. A warmth rose in Victor's chest and spread through his veins like a wildfire; it was not lust nor yearning, but rather something he had never felt before. A strange mixture of overflowing joy and affection, plus something else he could not describe. For the first time ever, the King of the Sun felt his cheeks warm, not from the rays of the sun but rather from the blush that dusted his face. His eyes softened as a tender smile pulled at his lips.

"Okay then, follow my lead," he hummed, their fingers entwining as he pressed a hand flat against the Night's cold back. Together they waltzed across the open fields, spinning and twirling as they held on to each other. Their time was short but both refused to let go of the other, wanting to hold onto this special moment for as long as they could. If Victor had a say in it, he would have never wanted the dance to end. He felt right at home in Yuuri's arms, and he could spend eternity there. Their dance came to an abrupt end when the Heralds of the Dawn and Dusk came to fetch them, tearing the two apart. Victor let his hand linger on Yuuri's for a moment longer before he was forcefully dragged away by his irritated Herald, and as he watched the King of the Night disappear he felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness inside, as if a part of himself had been left behind. Without Yuuri, he was no longer whole.

"Perhaps it's love?" Victor wondered out loud to himself as he lay on the ground in a field of daisies. He wasn't exactly sure if "love" was the emotion he was feeling, in fact it felt wrong to define it as such. "Love" was a word created by humans to describe a strong fondness or infatuation with another, and that wasn't what he was feeling. The emotion went far beyond that of a few simple phrases, so much so that it was hard to describe in words, and yet "love" was probably the closes description he could get, and he desperately wanted to convey this to Yuuri. Absently he remembered the tales that the humans told of the Sun and the Moon once again and nearly laughed at how wrong they had been.

The Moon had never been the one trying to catch up with the Sun - the Sun had always been chasing the Moon.

What should I do? The King though, raising his hand to the sky as if waiting for an answer to fall from the heavens before, letting it drop with a sigh. As he did, his fingers gently brushed the petals of a nearby flower and he turned to look at it. I wonder if Yuuri likes flowers? He thought. Suddenly he recalled the owl's words and they echoed clearly in his mind:

"No flowers bloom in the realm, for it is much too cold..."

Victor sat up and picked the flower, twirling the stem in his hand as the cogs in his mind turned. Slowly, a smile spread across his face as he hatched an idea.

"Oh, not again!" Yuuri sighed, bending down to scoop up the flower that Victor had left behind. This had been going on for some time now, and he couldn't figure out why he kept dropping them like he did. The flower was exactly like every flower that had come before it: a rose the color of a blushing dawn, imbued with a fraction of sunlight to help keep it alive. Yuuri couldn't help but lift the flower to his nose and inhale it's scent, a fragrance so rich and warm that it reminded him of the Sun itself.

"He can't keep doing this," The Ruler of Night complained to his friend, the Herald of Dusk. While he loved the plant, they tended to die quickly in his realm. While those that were dropped by the Day survived longer than most, extended time in his cold realm eventually wore away at them, causing them to wilt. Like each flower before, Yuuri tucked the petaled plant into his sleeve to keep it protected so he could return it at Dawn. It was such a beautiful thing and he hated to see it die.

"Perhaps it's not an accident. Victor isn't so clumsy as to continuously drop a flower by accident every single Night," Phichit replied with a sly grin. Yuuri stared at him.

"What do you mean?" He asked slowly.

"I mean, I think he's doing it on purpose. The flowers must be for you," Dusk teased. A blush slowly rose across Night's face as he looked away.

"No, that can't be... Surely, that's not it. It can't be," he choked out. Phichit wasn't done, however, and got right up close for the finishing blow.

"He liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikes you~!"

"PHICHIT, PLEASE DON'T SAY THAT!" Yuuri squeaked, hiding his chagrined face behind his hands as the Herald danced around him repeating the phrase over and over. It was bad enough he was already embarrassed without the Herald making it worse. Taking off in a run, Yuuri made his escape and eventually sat down in an empty field to catch his breath. A few wisps came down from the stars with worried expressions to ask if he was okay, but he dismissed them easily, assuring them that he was fine. Looking up at the Moon, he recalled the time back when the interactions between him and the King of the Day didn't take place.

Yuuri never thought he would actually meet the King of Day up close. He had always glimpsed him from afar, thinking him to be beautifully radiant. His silver hair gleamed in the morning and setting light, and as he walked robes the color of the sun and sky billowed out behind them. The attire under the robes were the same color as sunshine, and a frill made of clouds sat upon his shoulders. Upon his head a pointed crown sat, radiating life and warmth upon everything around him. The most striking feature of all, however, were his eyes: a brilliant sky blue that almost seemed to pierce his soul. Yuuri thought they were more beautiful than any gem or star found in his realm.

For a long time, he had wanted to meet the other King, but always found himself hesitating. After all, the King of Day had never made any attempts to meet him before, so surely he didn't want to interact with him, right? Yuuri also felt that he was somewhat unworthy to be in the presence of such a beloved ruler, despite the both of them being deities.

For a long time he had admired his radiant counterpart from afar, choosing to watch him from a distance than invade his personal space. After all, a radiant deity like himself wouldn't want to interact with someone as cold as himself, surely? So he made himself scarce, avoiding contact with him for millennia.

Until one day that suddenly all changed. Yuuri had been getting ready to leave as Dawn approached when he fell to the ground quite suddenly. Three small Nymphs giggled as they danced away, their prank having been pulled. Yuuri had gotten up and brushed himself off, unaware that his crown had fallen from his head until Phichit pointed it out to him. They had frantically searched the fields, intent on finding it before the Sun rose and Day arrived. The crown was made of starlight and would dissolve in the Sun's strong rays if left behind. It wasn't a big deal, as he could always have another one crafted, but it was a gift from Hiroko when he had first been named and he had quiet an attachment to it, so he didn't want to lose it. They had begun to lose hope when they suddenly encountered the King of the Day.

Victor. He had introduced himself as Victor and even asked for Yuuri's name. Yuuri's heart fluttered when he heard Victor speak the name he had been bestowed. He was hansom and warm. Yuuri treasured their brief encounter, as he was sure they would never meet again.

However, Victor surprised him by continuing to seek him out, intent on interacting every chance they got. At first, he didn't know how to react to the over enthusiastic King, but quickly found that Victor never pressured him. If he talked, he talked, but in the times when Yuuri chose not to converse with his fellow king, the other seemed content just to stay near him in silence. When he opened up, he met him where he was, and eventually he grew used to Victor's presence, even finding himself looking forward to their meeting at one point. Phichit liked to tease him about it, and he did his best to ignore the playful Herald.

Their relationship continued to grow, but something seemed to change after their first dance together in the field. After that, every time at Dusk, Victor dropped a rose seemingly on accident. Yuuri picked up the rose and returned it every Dawn, figuring that the rose had to have been left behind on accident. Every time he did, Victor's eyes would flash with an emotion Yuuri could not make out before thanking him and taking the rose from him. They would then converse or dance until they had to part, and then the cycle would start all over again at Dusk. This time was the same, and he was sure that the next would be no different.

But Victor always had a way of surprising him.

When Dawn arrived next, Yuuri found Victor already waiting for him, a huge bouquet of roses in his arms. The Night flushed as he realized Phichit was right, and as if he had been called by his thoughts the Herald of Dusk appeared beside him, a huge and triumphant grin on his face.

"I told you so~!" He sang, dancing out of the way as Yuuri flailed at him.

"S-Shush!" Yuuri squeaked, his embarrassment plain as day. He turned to look back at Victor, and while he wanted to go to him, his feet seemed rooted to the spot. Phichit gave him a boost by shoving him forward (a little hard, he might add) and it was just enough to get him going. Though his heart beat faster and his blush deepened with every step, he didn't stop until he stood directly before the King of the Day.

"I-I thought the roses were an accident," he whispered nervously and Victor smiled.

"No, they were always for you. It was never an accident," he confessed. Behind him, the Herald of Dawn scoffed.

"He cried every time you returned them," he grouched, causing a blush to appear on Victor's face.

"I did not!" The King replied defensively, and Yuuri couldn't help but laugh, loosening the ball of anxiety that hand wound up inside him. Victor held his arms out, offering him the bouquet. "These are for you."

Yuuri flushed as he placed his hands on the bouquet. The flower's fragrance was heavy, and he could smell them even from a distance. "A-Are you sure?" He asked, only to have the bouquet shoved further into his arms as Victor stepped closer.

"I've never been more sure," Victor said, and behind him Dawn gagged, but both deities ignored the sour boy.

"Alright then, I accept them. Thank you," Yuuri chuckled, taking the flowers into his arms and leaning again Victor's warm chest.

Later that Night, Yuuuri sat quietly in his Moonlit fields, cradling the his gift firmly against his chest as he thought about his conversation with Victor. The roses had always, always been for him and him alone. A blush dusted his cheek as he recalled Phichit telling him that, in the human world, red roses were given to others as a display of affection. Since the humans slept during his rule, he had never come to know that custom. This created a problem, however, Yuuri though as he bit his lip gently. In his excitement he had forgotten to tell Victor that the flowers he gave him wilted in his realm, and now he was stuck in a dilemma. He wanted to return the flowers, but knowing how Victor felt now, he felt bad if he did. How was he supposed to resolve this?

Slowly, an idea came to him. If he was going to give the roses back, he wanted to make it a gift himself, something special. After all, Victor had graciously given him so many roses, and he felt the need to return the favor. He recalled the Sun deity telling him how much he loved the color blue (as so did he, as he had come to love the color of the King's sky blue eyes), as the color didn't exist in many places within his realm. Blue was - after all - a Night color. Yuuri wondered if it would be possible to turn the rose blue. It was the opposite color of red, but he was a deity, right? Making up his mind, Yuuri stood and set to work on his plan.

When Dawn came, Yuuri waited impatiently as he hid the bouquet behind his back. Phichit smiled at him and patted his shoulder as he shifted nervously, anxiously awaiting Victor's arrival. "Do you think he will like them? I don't want him to be upset," Yuuri mumbled and the Herald of Dusk laughed.

"It'll be fine! Victor will love him, I've sure of it," Dusk told him, a wide grin on his face. Yuuri's heart thundered in his chest as he caught sight of Victor, and it felt like it would fly out of his chest when the radiant Ruler came to a stop in front of him. "Good morning, Yuuri," Victor greeted, a warm smile on him lips. Yuuri blushed as he shifted again.

"G-Good morning!" He replied, cursing nervous pitch in his voice. Phichit nudged him to help clear his head and remind Yuuri he had something to do. Clearing his throat, he looked up into Victor's sky blue eyes as he pulled the bouquet out from behind his back and practically shoved it into the Sun King's chest, startling him. "T-These are you you!"

"These are..?" Victor questioned. Yuuri couldn't see his expression as he kept his head down, too afraid to see the other's reaction.

"I-I know you didn't want me to return the flowers anymore, b-but they wilt quickly in my realm and I didn't want to see them die... b-but I didn't want to just give them back, I wanted to make them special, so I changed their color by pouring some Moonlight into them. I-It wasn't hard though, since Moonlight originated from the Sun..." Yuuri rambled on, unsure of what to do.

"Yuuri."

That single word make the Night Ruler's head snap up, and as he did he found himself suddenly wrapped in a tight embrace, Victors lips pressed again his own. His face flushed deeply as they separated and Victor beamed down at him, his eyes sparkling. "Sorry, I didn't have the words to express exactly how I felt, " Victor apologized, his voice cracking a little as if he was trying not to cry. "I love them, thank you so much."

All the anxiety Yuuri had felt up until that moment melted away, his fears chanced away by the brilliance of Victor's smile. "Your welcome," he replied, folding himself back into the embrace once again. He could practically see Phichit cheering behind him, but he ignored the excited Herald and allowed himself to sink into Victor's warmth.

Victor paced his realm, a crown of blue roses adorning his brow as he lost himself deep in thought. Yuuri had not only returned his affections, but did so tend-fold as he had gifted him a flower as beautiful as the Night itself. It felt unfair to not gift him something back in return, something just as wonderful if not more. A flower for a flower, perhaps? It seemed almost impossible: the owl had told him that the realm of Night was too cold for most flowers to bloom, and Yuuri had solidified that fact when he told him even flowers imbued with the power of the Sun wilted eventually. The King of the Night and Moon had only been able to craft the blue roses by mixing his power with a rose gifted to him from the land of the Day and Sun, and it only worked because Victor had poured daylight into the plant beforehand. Nothing within his own realm originated from the opposite- not even the roses upon his head, so there was nothing for him to use to craft a Night Flower.

Victor came to a stop as a sudden idea popped into his head, the wheels of his mind turning as he thought about the roses that adorned him. While he had cultivated many identical roses from the gift Yuuri had bestowed upon him, the ones that made up his crown were from the original bouquet and still pulsed with a bit of Moon power. It wasn't a lot, but maybe it was possible to use what he had to create a flower that thrived solely in the realm of the Night, one that bloomed under the glow of the stars. If Yuuri could manage it, so could he!

       Victor took off across his realm, searching for a flower to suit his needs. There were many from which he could choose, but he needed a flower that could easily be persuaded to change it's allegiance from the Sun to the Moon. He also wanted the flower to be simple, just like the Night itself: while his realm was full of intricate details, the Night was simple in it's beauty and he wanted something to reflect that. Victor eventually found his match in Morning Glories - a flower that unfurled it's petals during the Day can closed when the Moon took to the sky. While he often saw them in various shades of red, there were many that bloomed in hues of blue and purple, similar to the tones of the darker realm. It was these he picked and from the Shadows he weaved into them a preference for darkness, turning their petals black. Nervously, he removed the crown from his head and from the roses he imbued the glories with the power of the Night. He was saddened to see the roses shimmer and disappear as their power was drained, but he still had a single rose from the bouquet stored safely away in his castle, so not all was lost. For a heartbeat, nothing happened and Victor felt as if he had failed and that the sacrifice he had made was for naught, but suddenly the flowers in his hand shivered and turned a brilliant white before curling their petals in tight. The King of the Day smiled radiantly as he tucked the new flower into the confines of his robes for safety.

The look on Yuuri's face was priceless when he presented him his creations at Dusk. Happy tears that glimmered like diamonds fell from his eyes as the flowers bloomed under the light of the Moon. Victor felt a now familiar warmth rise in his chest, but was taken by surprise when Ruler of the Night suddenly embraced him. "Thank you," Yuuri croaked as he wiped the tears from his eyes and beamed, "thank you so much! They are so beautiful, and I love them! I shall treasure them forever!"

From that evening forward, it became almost painful for them to part. They were never seen without each other during both Dawn and Dusk, holding hands as they walked across the fields, their mutual gifts adorning their visage. In what seemed like such a short time they had grown so close, and Victor desperately wished that they didn't have to part, that they could stay together for the rest of of Eternity. Night looked thoughtful when he told him of his dream. "Humans often wish similar things upon the stars when they fall," he told the Day as they laid with their cloaks spread out around them beneath a tree, their finger entwined as Yuuri rested his head again the shoulder of his beloved. Victor's lips quirked, amused by the idea.

"They wish upon falling stars? Why?" He asked and Yuuri shrugged, the constellations on his cloak glittering in the light as he moved.

"They feel as if casting their dreams to the heavens will somehow make it come true, I suppose."

"What strange customs they have," Victor chuckled as he looked at the sky. The sun had very nearly set below the horizon and their time was running short. He didn't want to part again he though, gently squeezed his entangled hand and felt joy spread through his immortal veins when Yuuri returned the gesture. They were quiet for a moment before Victor spoke again, his voice quiet as he spoke slowly. "Do you think it would be possible to create a realm where both of us could live together? We are deities right? Surely we should be able to do at least that."

Yuuri looked up at him, his eyes wide and thoughtful as he turned the idea over in his mind before shaking his head slowly. "I'm not sure," he replied truthfully, his brow furrowing and a frown tugging at his lips. "In concept, it wouldn't be impossible to do, but it certainly wouldn't be easy and far from simple. We wouldn't be able to create an entire new plane, but it would be possible to create something that bridged our two realms, a merging of the two instead of something entirely separate. However, to create such a bridge would require a huge amount of power from the both of us and we wouldn't be able to do it on our own. We would need to be together, our powers equal so that the realms mixed properly, but neither Dawn nor Dusk allowed such a thing. Our powers rise and fall with our celestial objects, after all."

Victor hummed as he leaned against Yuuri, closing his eyes as he soaked in the coolness of his skin. They would figure something out eventually. Some day, he would make his dream become a reality.

Many seasons past them by and a solution failed to present itself, but Victor kept a small seed of hope lodged firmly in his heart. Victor sighed heavily one Autumn evening and he prepared the plants around him for the coming Winter; it was a tedious job, but one that had to be done none the less. It was still noon, so there was still quite a bit of time left before he could see Yuuri again. The day had dragged on without incident up until that point, but that suddenly changed.

A shadow began to drop across the Land of the Sun, startling Victor and it's inhabitants. It was never dark in the Sun realm, so something major had to be going on. "Yuri! What's happening?" Victor called the the Herald of Dawn as he strode into the castle gardens. Small Fae clung terrified to his robes, and he had to stop to deposit them reassuringly on the ground before continuing on. He didn't want them getting hurt if the Herald suddenly struck out at him (which he had a bad habit of doing).

"Ah? What do you mean 'what's going on'? Why do you always forget events like this?" Yuri said, his voice betraying his obvious annoyance from where he sat playing with a cat on the steps leading from the garden. For some reason he had a strange fascination for the small furry creatures. Victor stopped, his face twisting in confusion as he tried to remember what was so important about that particular day. Yuri sighed heavily. "It's a Solar Eclipse, you idiot! You need to stop forgetting these thi-- HEY, WHERE ARE YOU GOING?! VICTOR!"

The Ruler of the Day ignored the Herald's angry cries as he ran swiftly from the castle ground in the direction in which Dusk usually arrived. True to the Herald's words, he had completely forgotten about the Solar Eclipse, but it happened so rarely that no one could blame him. The last time such an event occurred, Victor just shrugged it off, but this time it was much more exciting. The Eclipse was the only time in which both the realms merged and both the Sun and the Moon hung in the sky. More importantly, it was the answer that he had been searching for.

       Apparently, Yuuri had thought the same thing. Victor caught sight of him running in the distance, his robes billowing behind him as he ran towards the Dawn. "Yuuri!" Victor cried out as he forced himself to run even faster.

"Victor!" Yuuri cried as he collided with Victor, wrapping his arms around the sunny ruler just as the plains were plunged into Twilight. The speed at which they collided nearly sent Victor sprawling to the ground, but he managed to regain his footing and return the tight embrace. They held onto each other for a while, content to stay there, but the eclipse would not last forever and they needed to act quickly if they were going to make his dream a reality. "Yuuri, it's possible to create the bridge now, isn't it?" Victor whispered and Yuuri laughed as he pulled back to smile at him.

"Yes, I think it is."

The realm of Twilight was, as the humans told, a place full of life and love. The skies were painted in a dusty hue as stars scattered across the horizon. In the sky the Sun and the Moon hung together, embracing each other in an eternal eclipse. The meadows were overflowing with various plants and animals of every shape and size, but most glorious were the roses painted in blue and glories the same color as fresh snow. A large castle was said to exist in a plain where the flowers mixed, and within a single bud of each flower sat together in an glass case. If you looked closely enough, it was said that you could see two figures dancing occasionally on the balconies of the palace, one as radiant as the Sun itself and the other as beautiful as the Moon.

Together, the two lived in harmony, forever for Eternity.

[unrequitedmime]

Crashing debris. A scream. A sob. A name.  His name. "Diana," i hear his voice. I open my eyes, slowly, blink into the darkness. "Diana," his voice is impatient as he grabs the covers and begins to pull them off my body. "Yuri," i curse, "Piss off!" Yuri. Yuri? I throw myself up, and stare at my brother. He sits across from me on the bed, watching with amusement. "Yuri," i whisper. He smiles softly. My heart soars. "Hey," he whispers. I let out a cry as i throw myself across the bed, wrapping myself around him. He squeezes me back just as tight, and i feel all of the sadness and the anger that has been inside of me for the last 8 months suddenly fly away. His body is warm against mine. Warm, and alive. I draw back and stare at him in wonder, letting my eyes trail down his sun tanned skin and floppy strands of hair. "You're alive," i breathe. His eyes twinkle with sadness for a moment before washing over with love, "I'm here." I frown, unsatisfied with his vague answer, but before i can tell him, he interrupts. "How's Macie?" he asks, leaning forward tentatively.  I blink, "Umm," i stutter, "She's safe. She managed to escape the attack on the Centre, and although she hasn't told anyone where she's hiding, i know she's safe in LA with Fiona."  Yuri's body deflates in relief when i say Fiona's name. Fiona was Yuri's best friend before we left for the Centre. They had never lost contact, and have remained best friends ever since they were 12. Fiona is like our sister.  He nods, and lays down in bed next to me on top of the covers. He lets out a breath as he stares above at the ceiling. The moon shines through the thin sheet in front of my window, and cast shadows across the walls.  "I miss you," he whispers, "A lot. It's hard because i can see how much you're suffering," my heart stops, "And because i know i can do nothing to help you. I see that you miss me as much as i miss you. I'm so sorry, Di."  His voice cracks.  My heart shatters.  I turn my head to look at him, and blanch back in shock. Dust and loose glass hang in his hair and mask his skin. His eyes shine with sadness, and blood runs down his cheek from a cut on his forehead.  "I'm so sorry, Di."  I sit up with a scream. My voice cracks and my screams turn into sobs. I clutch desperately at the blankets, pillows, trying to forget. I pull at my hair as my body shakes and I whisper his name over and over. My door swings open, and suddenly warm arms encircle my body and lift me off the bed. I focus on the warmth of these hands as they carry me, hold me together, realising that Wyatt's hand are alive, and that Yuri's were deathly cold in comparison to these.  Wyatt settles me down onto his bed, and i fall onto his soft pillows with a deep breath. I stare at the ceiling. He sits wordlessly beside me, waiting. I stare ahead, and focus on calming my mind, numbing my pain, forgetting my heart. I drown everything.  I become numb.  We stay in silence for a long time, perhaps half an hour. "Thank you," i whisper to the darkness. He doesn't respond, but i feel him nod. Silence. "I'm going to take my shift now," i tell the ceiling. Wyatt finally speaks, "It's not time yet," his voice is rough with exhaustion. I think for a moment, calming my tired heart.  "There is no way I'm going back to bed after this, and you're exhausted. I'll watch him until morning."  I feel Wyatt think, fighting himself and his thoughts. Without waiting for him to decide, i climb over him and out of the bed.  As i close the door i hear a soft, "Okay."  I stand in the hallway for a few minutes, calming myself down. I close my eyes, and welcome the darkness of my mind. I count to ten, and take deep breaths.  I hide myself away from the world. I open the door to Hannah's room as quietly as i can, slipping in without a word. George lays on the bed, sleeping peacefully. A lamp on the desk is on, and the room glows with a soft, warm light. I settle myself into the recliner chair next to the bed, and pick up my book from the floor.  Hannah and Broc have been gone for a few days now.  They left the day after George arrived.  I had woken up in the morning, clumsily stumbled past Wyatt, sitting outside George's door, and climbed down into the kitchen to make breakfast.  I hadn't found the note until I was eating my pancakes.  I had sprinted up the stairs, making a racket, gasping with shocked breaths. Wyatt had met me at the top, and grabbed my hand, pulling me close.  "What's wrong!" he had asked, his eyes burning with intensity.  I thrust the note into his chest, "They're gone, Wyatt," i whispered.  He frowned in confusion, and a storm gathered in his eyes as he read through the note.  "No," he said quietly, "No freakin way."  Something inside of me snapped. "YES WAY!" I screamed in panic, "THEY'RE GONE, WYATT. AND THEY WANT US TO SAVE THE DAY! HOW COULD THEY EVEN THINK WE'D BE ABLE TO DO THIS!"  Wyatt stared at the note, reading it over and over again. His beautifully tanned face had paled, and his eyes widened. I stared at the paper in his hands, hating the words on them, the request that Broc had left for us.  The dangerous mission he was sending us on.  "We can't do that," i say quietly, "We're good agents, but we're not that good."  He gulped, and looked up at me, his eyes clearing with determination. I sighed at the shine in his eyes, understanding.  "No."  He nodded slowly, "We have to, Di. We're the only ones he trusts."  We had stared at each other for a few minutes, my eyes shooting daggers and his brightening with plans. Something inside of me understood that we had to do it, that we were the only chance the Centre had for safety, the only chance Macie had for a home again.  Macie.  The thought of her in danger was what broke me. I felt my resolve shatter in my chest.  I closed my eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. I finally looked up at Wyatt, and slowly nodded. We stared at each other for a few moments more, and the message i sent him was clear in the slump of his shoulders.  He understood.  He understood how hard this was going to be. How tiring and dangerous and life-threatening. He understood that i was putting my life into his hands, and my trust.  And my sister's life.  He took a moment to let the weight of the responsibilities settle on his shoulders before slowly nodding back.   "I'll check George."  George.  I have been an agent for almost 3 years now, and seeing George drop to the ground that day was the most terrifying thing I've ever witnessed. As soon as he had dropped, i had screamed for Wyatt and rushed to George's side. Everyone had come running, and Hannah had wordlessly taken him up to her room. For 24 hours they were confined to that room, healing.  Wyatt stood outside of it every minute of the day.  Hannah had finally come out, claimed that George was healthy and stable, and went downstairs. Wyatt had rushed in, and stayed in there all night. I thought they were talking, bonding, but when i had popped into the room later, i realised that George was unconscious, had been unconscious since he passed out in the kitchen. But he was alive.  Hannah had healed him perfectly.  I stare at him, watching his chest expand with deep, even breaths as he dreams. He's been drifting in and out of consciousness for three days now, having fitful nightmares and long sleeps.  Hannah said that this is his body's way of dealing with the trauma that he's experienced. That we need to give his body and mind a few days to stabilise, to heal itself.  So we wait.  We gave up the mission and our roles as school students as soon as Broc came to town, so during the day we stay home. I usually sit in George's room in this reclining chair and read while Wyatt organises the mission.  I don't organise the mission. I refuse.  So instead i read. George lays silently by my side all day long, sometimes muttering in his sleep and sometimes waking up with a scream. In the moments that he is conscious, he isn't aware. His eyes are blurred and he stares around in confusion for a few moments before passing out again.  It's terrifying.  He looks alive tonight. He's nearly back to normal.  I begin to read by the lamplight next to George, and eventually i lose myself in the book. I read for a few hours before i blink away from the story and check on George.  He lays peacefully under the covers, and the moonlight kisses his skin, making it glow with a certain softness. The sharp angles of his face are illuminated in the soft light of the room, and his long eyelashes flutter against his cheekbones as he stirs. His dark curls are fanned out on the pillow and around his face, curling with a playful wildness, an innocent messiness.  His lips part as he releases a sigh in his dreams, and a long slender hand comes to rest on his chest as he mumbles to himself.  I stare at the sleeping boy in front of me, and realise that he is a canvas.   A canvas of deep blue eyes and sharp angles and shadows that fall upon his skin.  This polite and witty and smart boy is quite a piece of art.  His eyes suddenly flutter open, and i startle. He lets out a breath. He glances around the room and swallows, letting his eyes roam over the paintings on the walls before allowing them to rest on me.  His eyes are clear, focused.  "Hello," i whisper.  He smiles a small smile, "Hello, Diana."  "How are you feeling?" i ask, closing my book.  He thinks for a moment before slowly nodding, "I feel like i just died and came back to life. So, above average."  I let a small laugh escape my lips, and i lean forward to check his temperature. He shivers.  "Your body is stable," i say, leaning back. I pause, "I'm not sure about your mind, though."  He doesn't look at me as he struggles to sit up, resting back on his propped up pillows. His bare chest shines with small patterns of scars. Knives have been dragged along his skin.  He's been tortured.  He follows my gaze down to his skin, and allows himself to laugh.  "They liked knives," he whispers to his chest.  My heart constricts, and i let out a small, strangled breath.  "George," i whisper, and he closes his eyes, "What happened in those days after the attack?"  He rests his head against the headboard of the bed, and for a few moments we sit in silence.  "I was a good fighter in the attack," he finally answers, his voice barely above a whisper, "I was taking down Rebels, getting agents to safety. So they took me," he shakes his head, "Shot me with a tranquilizer gun and got me the hell out of there. When i came to, i had no idea where i was. In some sort of," he thinks for a moment, "church. Yeah, it was a church."  I wait. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes. He looks at me, and the intensity of the deep blue takes my breath away.  "Torture," he says simply, his voice dead, "They tortured me for three days. Tried to pry information out of me. They wanted to know where the other agents were hiding, where Broc was hiding. At that time i had no idea, and even if i did i wouldn't have told them," he bites his lip,"It became a daily ritual. They would come and tell me to give them names and locations, and when I'd say no, they'd bring out the girl."  I frown, "The girl? What girl?"  He blinks up at me, and his eyes slowly lose their brightness. My stomach drops.  "She was our age," he smiles fleetingly, "Stunning. Long, tan legs. Blonde hair, green eyes. A very nice smile. The first time she introduced herself, i thought she could help me," he's quiet, "And then she brought out the knives."  I close my eyes for a moment, blinking away tears. He stares at the blanket, lost in his memories.  "Her name was Casey," he says, "I hated her. She stabbed me twice. Within the space of ten minutes."  I stand up, my fists balled. Anger burns in my blood, and i want to kick something.  "She tortured you?" i demand, "For three days? She cut you and stabbed you and did god knows what else, for three days?"  He frowns up at me in confusion for nodding slowly. I pace the room in silence, telling myself to calm down. He watches me. I stop pacing, and turn to face him.  "I'm going to find her," i announce, "And I'm going to kill her."  We stare at each other for a few moments. He watches me carefully, analysing. Eventually, a small smile spreads across his face, and his eyes brighten.  "My hero," he teases.  I hear it, in his voice. The strain of his words. The anger that burns in his own heart. I understand that he's asking me to calm down, to stop addressing the situation. That it hurts too much for him.  I slowly sit back down.  "How did you escape?" i ask quietly.  He shrugs, "I don't know. I passed out in the church, and woke up on the street outside. I saw this house, and suddenly recognised it from Wyatt's photos that he had sent me. I knew better than to bang on the front door, so i stumbled around to the back and i let myself in."  I nod. We both think it, and the unsaid question hangs in the air between us. Silence settles.  "Who brought you here?" i finally say, my voice shaking.  He stares ahead, and after a few moments, shrugs.  "I don't know," he whispers back, "I just don't know, Diana."

unrequited