#that's one of the reason he's there for besides helping louis process his grieve and guilt

[isekai-ed]

Why did Louis stage the interview?

Louis shook Daniel’s hand, promised him $10 million, and set his laptop on fire after the Armand reveal, giving the feeling that he always planned to destroy whatever evidence Daniel uncovered. It begs the question: Did Louis stage the Dubai interview because he had a hunch about Armand’s lie? Anderson says, “Yeah, I do,” in response to that question, and he’s been theorizing this since filming the Season 1 finale. Louis has never seen this interview as the chronicling of a suicide like Armand (as Rashid) described it, according to Anderson.

“The burning of the laptop, Louis doesn’t really have a good understanding of how the cloud works,” Anderson says, making us both laugh. “It’s a dramatic flourish. It’s more symbolic than anything.” Suspecting Armand “was something that I started to get a sense of when we did that Season 1 Episode 7 moment of ‘the love of my life,’ because Rolin always talks about that as the end of The Graduate,” Anderson continues. “I was like, ‘Oh, it’s a cry for help.’ He found the person that he knew could draw the truth out of everyone, including himself.”

Essentially, Daniel has been Louis’ failsafe ever since San Francisco. “He has this real connection with [Daniel], and we learn that he’s given him this apology/gift of ‘you are a bright young reporter.’ If all else goes to s**t, you will always have this,” says Anderson. “He brings him back because he needs help. He’s not quite sure what it is, but he just has this little thing in the back of his mind that’s telling him, ‘This isn’t right, something’s wrong here.'”

“Truth and reconciliation” is “what it comes down to in the end. There is a poetic thing in that final moment. It was fun to shake [Bogosian’s] hand because they don’t touch each other really the whole time. It was quite nice to do that. Eric didn’t know I was going to do it, and he genuinely flinched,” he adds with a laugh. “There was a conversation about whether or not I should do it, but I would’ve fought back” had they told him not to.

[ericsonclan]

A Gentle Smile Lost in a Grave

Summary: Ruby finally has a break from taking care of Violet and Clementine's injuries and decides it time to finally visit Brody's grave.

Read on A03:

Ruby felt her shoulders relax slightly as she walked out of the dorms. She had just finished up with Clementine’s leg. It seemed like it was healing nicely but she still had to keep a close eye on it. She could focus on that later though. For once since she didn’t know when, she had a moment alone. A moment of free time away from seeing the burns on Violet’s face, the oozing and blood seeping from it. Away from Clem’s stump and from the worrying eyes of the others when she worked on the leg.

Her eyes wandered around the courtyard and noticed that Aasim and Louis were still out checking the traps. Omar and Rosie must also still be out by the fishing shack since the spot by the cooking pot where Omar usually was remained empty. Willy stood on top of the watch tower, his eyes lighting up when he noticed Ruby, giving a friendly wave. She returned the gesture with a small, warm smile before her hand fell to her side. Violet was asleep and Clementine was resting with AJ keeping watch over her. That meant Ruby really did have a moment alone.

Part of her was happy and relieved for the break while another stronger part of her filled with dread. She had been so busy over these last couple of weeks with all the events that happened to her and the others that she had been able to push her emotions down. Ruby felt a tight knot build in her stomach, her body and mind finally having a moment to grasp everything that happened.

Shaking her head, she strolled through the courtyard in hopes that it would temper her emotions, but they only grew stronger when she reached the graveyard. Her throat tightened while her eyes scanned over the many names of the friends she had lost. The dryness of her mouth was overwhelming, so much so that she was about to look away and focus back on some other tasks to keep her mind at bay. Then her eyes caught sight of one name in the graveyard that made her pause. Brody. Ruby stood frozen there for a moment, deciding whether or not to move forward with her heart or mind. After a few seconds of pondering, she turned sharply on her heel and made her way to the greenhouse. Her heart had won the battle; it was time she visited Brody.

Ruby wandered through the greenhouse and cautiously opened the door. Her hands shook slightly while she peeked her head inside. A small breath of relief escaped her lips when she had confirmed that Ms. Martin’s walker form wasn’t there. It was silly, her still feeling the fear and horror swell inside her whenever she entered the room. But she couldn’t help it. Taking another deep breath, Ruby willed her body to move forward. The redhead gently kneeled beside the planter, plucking the stems of some beautiful purple flowers that she was sure Brody would like. When she had gathered a satisfactory amount, she strolled back to the graveyard. Her heartbeat pounded faster in her ears with each step.

When she had arrived in front of the gravemarker, she paused. “Hey, Brody,” Ruby sat down in front of the grave. Her hands absentmindedly grasped at the purple flowers to start a flower wreath.

“‘Sorry I haven’t been to visit since-” Ruby’s voice faltered out. Had she really never visited her friend since the funeral? The last few weeks she had been so focused on surviving the nights from hell that the Delta had brought with them, making sure she didn’t lose any more friends the night the ship blew up. And before that…. Her mind had been in such a fuzzy haze on the day of the funeral. Refusing to process that on that day she had lost one of her closest friends. Even though her eyes had laid upon Brody’s grave, her mind couldn’t accept it as fact. Instead she had been so worked up, so afraid for her own safety, that she hadn’t fully realized till now: Brody was dead.

“Since that day,” Ruby cleared her throat and shook her head, trying not to let the emotions seep in. “I guess I’ve just been so busy. And-” Her eyes looked at the name on the gravemarker, her hands beginning to shake as tears pricked at her eyes. An overwhelming feeling burdened her heart, twisting and pulling it apart. Her body shook violently as if for the first time her mind had allowed her body and heart to grieve for her fallen friend. “I’m so sorry, Brody. I-If only I could’ve saved you.” Ruby’s lips quivered as a steady stream of tears left her eyes.

She couldn’t even begin to imagine the fear and pain that her friend had been in as she lay against the boiler, the blood slowly covering her eyes that were no longer functioning. The very life within her slipping away. Fear, pain, sadness, all the emotions that swirled inside Brody while Ruby laid asleep. Her best friend had died while she had been asleep.

Ruby’s hands clenched together, crushing the flowers within. Ruby felt short, rough sobs escape her lips and she brushed away the tears from her face. Taking a deep breath she recentered herself, a shaky sniffle leaving her body. “We survived. Not all of us,” Ruby looked back at Tenn’s and Mitch’s graves. Her heart twisted with regret and sorrow before looking back at the grave in front of her. “But we’re still alive. I don’t… I don’t know if any of the others had told you that yet.” Ruby sniffled sharply before she brushed off the crushed flowers in her hands then proceeded to grab two new ones to start the process.

“I didn’t want you to worry. Although I guess you always were a worrywart so I’m sure it's the same for you there.” Ruby whispered. Her eyes traveled down to her hands that slowly made the beginning of a flower crown. She quickly twisted the stems of the two flowers then moved on to the next stem to weave into the wreath. Ruby remained silent for a few minutes, contemplating whether she wanted to share the next bit with Brody. Her hands shook as she decided to go for it.

“Y’know I was upset with you,” Ruby felt her heart sink at her own confession. “When I heard that you were with Marlon when he let the Delta take the twins, that you didn’t stop him.” Ruby swallowed sharply in hopes that it would keep her tears at bay from spilling forth once more. “I’m sure that was one of the many reasons why I haven’t visited yet, but that isn’t to say I haven’t given it any thought. I… I understand why you did it. Out of fear and out of hope that it would keep them away from the rest of us. Even though it didn’t work.” Ruby paused for a moment, staring down at the flower wreath before her eyes looked at the gravemarker. “I forgive you,” Ruby took a shaky breath. “I’m sure it was eating you up inside.”

Knowing the truth behind Brody’s secret helped. It helped make sense of that year. How Brody had pushed away from Ruby, not spending as much time with her and never opening up in the ways they used to. Never confiding in her like when they were younger. “I’m sure you felt regret for that day, probably still do wherever you are. But you were really brave that night. Making sure Clem and AJ were safe. That the rest of us wouldn’t end up like Sophie and Minerva. Even if…” Ruby’s throat stopped working for a few seconds. “Even if it cost you your life.”

Ruby’s sight became blurry with tears, unable to see the nearly completed wreath within her hands. Her heart ached in such a sharp and raw way, it felt like she couldn’t breathe as she let herself devolve into a mess of tears. “I just wished it didn’t.” Ruby choked on the end of her sentence. Her heart burned in agony, an empty hole within her heart. Crying out for a friend she could no longer see.

She’d never hear Brody’s soft laughter again or see the gentle warmth hidden within her smile. Never again would she get to go to her whenever she had worries or nightmares. Sitting on her bunk bed in their room as Brody reassured her everything would be okay. The quiet moments with her best friend, the deep moments that the pair had shared, they would no longer exist. All that she had remaining of her friend was a grave. The flower wreath slipped from Ruby’s hands as her fingers grasped at the dirt in front of her, her head placed on the ground. Pained sobs left her lips, her mind struggling to keep up as her emotions poured out of her.

After a few minutes, she rose with a shiver. Ruby rubbed at her eyes, now red and puffy. She grabbed the last remaining flower and went back to her task, twirling the stem and completing the flower wreath. “I’ll make sure your death wasn’t in vain,” Ruby’s voice cracked as her hands spun the wreath between them. “I promise,” She rose up, stumbling slightly. Gently she placed the flower wreath on the right corner of the gravemarker. “I’ll look out for the others. So just don’t worry, okay?” Ruby gave a warm smile even though her eyes were filled with sadness. She gazed at the carved name on the cross. At the name of her friend who had become almost like a sister to her. “I’ll be back soon, Brody.”

With one final smile, Ruby turned around, exiting the graveyard. Her heart felt lighter and heavier at the same time.

Even if Brody was no longer alive, it didn’t mean she was forever gone. A part of her was still here; Ruby could feel it. The gentle warmth of her best friend.

[elounorfluff-blog]

Inhaling Every Moment

A/N: OK I already apologized for this in my previous post. The whole thing isn’t heart-wrenching, I promise. Like and comment, reblog or DM with feedback! And a super fluff-filled nothing sad at all Christmas one-shot is coming in December. So here’s Christmas 2016....

The air felt colder than usual, but it had nothing to do with close to freezing temperatures outside. Louis wasn’t sure his life could have been in a more horrific state than it was that chilly night in December. The funeral had been held two weeks ago and he didn’t know how there were any tears left in him. After that awful day, it had been too much for him to keep leaning on Dani. Snapping at her when she was just trying to help and then apologizing over and over again until their relationship had more tension than comfort. She had left two days after his X-factor performance, on amicable terms. He knew it wasn’t her fault he was so upset with the world right now, but he didn’t think he could be with anyone in his current state. And of course, she had been at the funeral. Some part of him had expected to see Eleanor there, but when he actually saw her in living, breathing, form, it was like someone had sliced open freshly sewn stitches. He’d barely been able to say more than a few words to her.

His birthday had passed yesterday without any festivity beyond reading a hopelessly long letter his mother had left behind for him, telling him how proud she was and that she wished him only to find peace in the coming year. Lottie had also made him eat something and changed his sheets, and then taken him and Fizzy, along with the older twins to get hot chocolate. It had been a sort of quiet he wasn’t used to, but he had never been more thankful to have so many sisters. They were all in this together, at least.

And there had been today. Christmas. In their rented London home close to the hospital that no one could bear to leave just yet. Nobody woke up early to open gifts, but Dan and Fizzy had started making pancakes around noon as people drifted downstairs. It was an odd kind of relief to have things to do that day. Traditions that simply had to be upheld lest they have one more reminder of Jay’s absence. And so, they had decorated the tree that had sat neglected for the past month as they had been too busy with goodbyes and funeral plans and grieving to worry about something as trivial as ornaments. The memories held in each little trinket he hung up ended up being of far more comfort than he thought they would. He had found all the little things he’d made her in primary school, ornaments from different years which read “the Tomlinsons”, and listed names on some item. The first looked like a cookie sheet and simply held Marks name, his mum’s, and his own. The most recent was in the shape of a large snow globe and held at the top “The Tomlinson-Deakin Family” and read on tiny name plaques, “Jay, Dan, Mark, Louis, Lottie, Fizzy, Daisy, Phoebe, Doris, Ernest”. He’d smiled, wondering what the person who had done the calligraphy must have thought, writing all those names. Every single one of the kids had some creative ‘Baby’s 1st Christmas’ one as well, his own simply stating those words on a tiny silver frame that held a photo of his Mum with him at one day old, not even discharged from the hospital yet.

They had sat in the living room and opened a few gifts from each other, before they had finally addressed the tense absence hanging in the air. Each of them had gone around and told the happiest story they could think of about Johannah. And for awhile they had laughed even though the pain was still fresh. She had brought so much joy to their lives. They had stayed in their cocoon of togetherness, not wanting to leave the warmth and comfort of seeing their mum in each other’s eyes, but then children started to fuss, and the night had to end as Lottie and Fizzy got the younger twins off to bed. He had to let the great world spin, whether he wanted to or not.

It was close to midnight now. He knew all the older girls were probably crowded into one bedroom, asleep on each other, as they had been since the funeral. He sat downstairs, in a back room with vaulted ceilings that was full of windows to let light in during the day. He was curled up on the couch, with his knees hugged to his chest feeling completely numb.  He took out his phone in hopes of finding a distraction, scrolling mindlessly through the names in his phone. Louis wasn’t even sure how or why he had hit call on Eleanor’s contact, it just happened.

Meanwhile, El sat in her sweatpants alone in her London flat. She couldn’t bring herself to go home to Manchester. She’d tried to enjoy herself earlier with a friend who’d invited her to dinner, but now she simply felt alone, save for Bruce, who she was currently using as a pillow. She missed Jay with everything in her, but more than that, she missed the normalcy of being around the Tomlinsons and how comforting it had been just to wrap Daisy and Phoebe in her arms at the funeral. His family was the only one that was going through this process with her, but she felt like an intruder, so she kept her communication to a minimum. When her phone rang, she didn’t intend to answer it until she saw the contact name flash.

“…. Hello?” She answered hesitantly.

“Hey,” Louis said quietly.

“You’re up late,” she mumbled.

“Surprised you’re still awake,” Louis replied awkwardly.

“I haven’t really slept much since….you know. Did you need something?” She asked with curiosity rather than annoyance.

Louis paused as if trying to remember something. “Not…not really, I guess. Just can’t sleep either, although apparently everyone else can.”

Eleanor spoke before she thought, “Do you want me to come over?”

“I can’t say the answer is no. I promised you no more lies, but if you’re tired, I understand” he told her, which was true. They had spoken briefly after Jay told her about Brianna’s pregnancy. It had been a strange conversation where she questioned why he felt the need for her to know before the public, and he’d answered her that despite not feeling they could reconciliate, he felt he owed her honesty, and that honesty wasn’t letting someone you had been with for three and a half years find out you were having a child from the media.

“I’m a little tired, but that doesn’t mean I can fall asleep anytime soon. Be over in ten?” El didn’t know why she agreed. A little birdie (actually twin ones with iPhones) had informed her when Danielle had gone back to America and their general understanding that Louis and she had split.

“Yeah that works…. See you soon.” The line went dead as he hung up.

El turned to Bruce, “I have to go, love.” The dog answered by putting his head on his paws. “….Actually? Do you want to go for a ride in the car…yeah?” The dog’s ears perked up and he sat, pawing at her. “Alright, but we have to be very quiet.”

She grabbed a clean sweater, double checked she had on deodorant, and didn’t bother beyond that. She packed up her golden-doodle and started her car.

Lou texted her to come in the side door, where the deck was waiting off the room where he currently sat. He heard her pull up but didn’t see her until she was at the glass door, holding a giant bundle of tan fur in her arms. Lou gently slid the door open as she stepped in and set Bruce down. “You brought your dog?!” He whisper shouted.

El shushed him in reply, quietly telling Bruce to lay down. “Yes, I brought my dog. You have to take care of them you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was being so forward, although Louis had purchased Bruce for her and known him quite well. He had been their dog. “Besides, you can’t tell me that fluffball is anything other than comforting,” she told him quietly.

Louis gave her a look but then his eyes softened as he crouched down to pet the dog. “Hey Bruce-y. How’s life been?” He sat down on the ground against the back of a couch and pet him.

El joined him on the ground, still wearing her coat and boots, rubbing her dog’s belly as she talked mindlessly. “He’s been okay. Definitely missed you when you first left.” She tried to fill the endless silence. “What’s on your mind?”

Louis sighed, “Just…how lonely things seem without her. I didn’t even see her all that often before she was diagnosed, I was busy living it up in LA, but then I was here constantly after that call. I was afraid if I left for too long, I might never see her again,” he said without looking up. He scratched Bruce’s ears as a distraction.

“At least you got to say goodbye?” El tried to look for something comforting but wasn’t coming up with much.

“You’re only the hundredth person to say that to me”, Lou rolled his eyes, standing up. “I need to smoke,” he told no one in particular, slipping on his shoes and heading out to the deck. Eleanor followed him, since Bruce had fallen asleep in the warmth of the house.

El pulled her coat tighter around her in the still night air, watching Louis take a pack and a lighter out of his sweatshirt pocket. She leaned against the railing and put one of her hands out. “Give me one those,” she said.

Lou gave her a strange look, “Didn’t you quit smoking…. four or five years ago?”

“I quit because I was dating someone in a band who had in image to uphold for millions of thirteen-year-old girls in 2011, you hypocrite”, she deadpanned, but he still didn’t look like he planned on surrendering any. “Give me a fucking cigarette!” She whisper-shouted.

Lou looked he had been shaken out of trance as he handed one over to her and lit it for her. “Well at least I can count on you not to lecture me about the hazard”, he told her, taking a drag off his own.

El almost laughed as she exhaled, “I’m pretty sure the fact that Jay hated smoking is enough of a lecture by itself.”

“You’d think. I’ve been awful about it though. I can go through a pack in two hours easily,” he informed her. It was true. His nerves never seemed to calm down and for some reason the routine dispense of nicotine into his system felt at least somewhat relaxing.

“Well, we all have our vices,” she knew it wasn’t worth lecturing him about anyway. He was going to do it either way until he worked through Jay being gone. They were silent for a few minutes as they smoked, until she stomped hers out on the ledge, too cold to continue. “You almost done, it’s bloody freezing out here?”

Louis saw her shivering and threw his in the ashtray. “It’s warmer upstairs, inside I mean,” he said as he offered his hand to her to walk back in. El glanced at him suspiciously before accepting it.

“What have you been doing down here, then?” She asked as he slid the door open.

“I…I couldn’t fall asleep alone. The girls are all piled in with each other, and if you hadn’t heard, things weren’t really working between Dani and I. She left two weeks ago,” Louis pat his leg to call Bruce over while El took her boots off. He had forgotten how much he cared about the dog.

“I heard,” she said quietly, looking for a subject change. “He remembers you. I can tell, he wouldn’t let Max near him for months, but he doesn’t even make a sound when you pet him”, she said watching the two interact, “are we going upstairs?” She gestured to the staircase down the hall as she hung up her coat above her boots.

 He figured she was cold from being outside, and it wasn’t going to hurt anything for them to go up to his room, “I guess…as long as Bruce is quiet.” El nodded in reply and picked up her overgrown puppy. Lou shook his head at her, hinting at a smile. He crept down the hall and up the stairs with her in tow, until they got to his room. He shut the door and turned on a lamp.

El set Bruce down on the bed, while Lou cleared away random things from it. “What’s that?” She asked of an unopened gift bag sitting on the ground.

Lou looked to where she pointed, and his heart sank, “birthday gift from Mum. I read the letter, but I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Oh…well do it now then. While I’m here for moral support,” She knew it might be months before he got around to it if she didn’t push him. Lou gave her an annoying look but picked it up and sat down next to her.

He took out the tissue paper and removed the two items inside. The first one was an engraved picture frame with one of the last photos of him and Jay before she was hospitalized. It simply read ‘Love you always, Mum Xx’ in what was clearly her handwriting. He smiled at it before setting it down gently on his dresser and picking up the other gift. It was a flat silver circle with an inner an outer ring, hung from a ribbon. The inner circle had a teddy bear holding a gift etched into it, while the outer one read ‘Baby’s first Christmas 2016’. He blinked back tears as he showed it to El. “She has one of these for all seven of us. And everyone’s is different, even Daisy and Phoebe’s. They were some of her favorite ornaments, she always talked about getting one for Freddie.”, he said it solemnly, leaning against her shoulder without thinking.

El squeezed his hand gently and set the trinket down next to the photo. She went to kick the bag aside but noticed something white in the tissue paper and picked it up for Lou to see. It was a Polaroid of all things, from Jay’s wedding. “Is that us?” Eleanor asked, even though she knew it was her because she remembered taking the photo.

It was while everyone was still getting ready and somehow the bridesmaids had found themselves running around barefoot as they finished up. Sophia had come to help her fix her hair, and brought Liam with her, who had brought Niall, and before she knew it all of One Direction was in the house and her hair still hadn’t been fixed. Someone was taking Polaroids for fun and had gone to grab one of Louis and Liam after he first walked in. Joke was on that photographer, because Lou had called her over, which of course led to Liam calling Sophia over, and then Louis told Zayn and Perrie they may as well join, which led Niall and Harry to sarcastically complaining about not being included. Louis had told them it was a couples only photo, and they needed a date, which they responded to by waving over Daisy and Phoebe, also barefoot and dresses still untied, and putting the girls on their backs.

The end result had been a set of laughing twins on the backs of Harry and Niall with linked arms and ridiculous facial expressions on one end and Zayn and Perrie looking relatively normal on the other end. In between that mess was Louis holding El’s waist and kissing her on the cheek while she looked slightly to the side, bursting with laughter at Sophia who was standing on her tiptoes in her black dress, trying to be as tall as El in her bare feet while Liam had covered half his smile, trying to hide his laughter at Soph’s attempt to be taller.

Louis took the photo from her after studying it, wondering why his mum had included it. He turned it over where the back of it had written in sharpie, ‘Louis, never stop making people smile. :)’. He looked at El, “that is definitely us.” He wasn’t sure what else to say. The photo only stirred up more feelings, although not all of them were bad.

“Can I borrow a sweatshirt?” El asked out of the blue once the silence got to be too much. Her sweater felt tight and uncomfortable now.

“Yeah, I’ll grab you one”, he exhaled heavily as he set the photo down and pulled one of his drawers open, surrendering the warm fleece. “Did you want one of the guest rooms?” He turned to pet Bruce while she changed.

El pulled her sweater off and unclasped her bra, before discarding that as well. She pulled on his warm sweatshirt and scooted back, “I’m fine here.”

“You want to sleep in my room? As in….” Louis was confused.

El rolled her eyes, “I’ll sleep with you. Wait not like that, I didn’t mean-”

“I got it,” he cut her off, understanding her meaning. Bruce stayed curled up at the end of the bed as he went to lay beside her, taking the Polaroid with him to examine it further.

She put a hand on his arm out of habit, “You alright?”

Louis shook his head. “I know that was probably one of the happiest days of her life, but it’s definitely in me own top three. I got to walk down the aisle with you. And nobody was fighting, not the band or my siblings, or…us”, he tilted his head slightly.

“You really want to do this right now?” El turned on her own side to face him, leaning on her arm, “talk about us?”

“You say it like it’s such a bad thing”, his tone didn’t convey any particular emotion, besides the grief he was clearly carrying in general.

“Not bad, per say…. just doesn’t do anybody a lot of good. Reminiscing about a girl you used to be in love with,” Eleanor stated like it should be obvious.

Louis raised an eyebrow at her as if she had just told him something completely inconceivable, like the sky turning green. He took one of her hands and looked straight at her, “Eleanor, I didn’t used to be in love with you… I still am.”

El blinked back a tear and looked at their hands instead of back at him, “You promised… no more lies.” She didn’t ever want to risk having her heart shattered again.

Louis wasn’t holding back his tears as they slid down his cheeks. “I’m not lying. You’re my girl, Eleanor,” El tried to look anywhere but at his eyes. “I know I fucked up, and got really lost the last two years, in too many ways to count, but I promise I’m not lying about this,” he pleaded with her.

El let the tears fall down her face. “Why did you call me?” She asked through her tears, swallowing thickly. She stared at their fingers, still laced together between them.

“Because”, Louis choked out, “because you’re my family. Nobody can ever be you, which means no one can ever understand losing her the way you would. You don’t treat me like some…broken, fragile thing. And because…maybe, I missed you.” He blinked hard and wiped at his eyes with his sweatshirt

“Maybe?” El finally met his eyes.

“No. Not Maybe. I did miss you. Shit, El. I missed you so much”, it was like a million emotions came flooding back in one second.

El wiped at her own tears. She crept closer to him, feeling her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She lost herself in the ocean of his eyes.

“I missed you too,” she whispered.  She wasn’t sure why she admitted to that so freely, but she knew with every part of her that it was true.

Louis didn’t stop to wonder if her reply was genuine or second guess her, at least not with words. He just gave her a half smile and squeezed her hand gently, “Yeah?”

El nodded and pushed her palm against his so he fell on his back and pressed her lips to his. Her thought process was completely gone at this point. She had meant to be gentle and quick, but before she knew it, his other hand was tucking a stray hair behind her ear as she found the familiar taste of cigarettes and some expensive whiskey he must have been drinking earlier and him. She surrendered all her oxygen to it, kissing him as they both cried silent tears.

Lou wanted her back the second she pulled away to breathe, but he decided he could definitely settle for her body pressed to his as she curled around him and rested her head on his chest. He swallowed and found his tears finally subsiding as he wrapped his arm around her. “I can’t lose you too, not again.”

El didn’t look at him to argue or try to declare her love enough to convince him she wasn’t going anywhere. She didn’t have the energy or the motivation to do any of that. She simply snuggled closer to him and ran her thumb over his where they knotted together. “You won’t,” she stated simply, glancing at the clock reading eleven fifty. “Merry Christmas,” she said sleepily. And then her eyelids were getting heavy as she wrapped her body around his and shifted most of her upper bodyweight onto him.

He yawned under the comforting pressure of her head tucked beneath his chin and her chest against his abs, one arm wrapped lazily around him.  Eleanor drifted off with her nose tucked to his shoulder. Louis’ breathing finally became slow and even as he listened to her breathe and smelled the same perfume that had been a constant for almost four years of his life. Bruce came and laid beside them. This was the furthest thing from happily ever after as their tear stained faces dried, but there was no denying it was love. It didn’t matter how many mansions he bought, or how hard he tried to escape his feelings for her, she was his home.

“Merry Christmas, Eleanor, I love you,” he whispered in the darkness before sleep finally found him.

 A/N: Please like and comment! Title from “First Time” by Ellie Goulding and Kygo

[twopoppies]

Historical AU Fic Recs

I was asked by @zsolounamanzana to recommend some historical fics (sorry love, I accidentally deleted your ask!). I don’t actually read historical AUs that often, so I will probably end up recommending ones you already know, but here’s a bunch I really liked. I hope there’s some here for you:

Threadbare by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill.

He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

Howls Like A Beast (You Flower, You Feast) by @indiaalphawhiskey

France, 1754. Château de Versailles.

“You don’t love me,” Louis had said, utterly blasé as he callously fractured the heart of a Harry that was just barely eighteen.

“I do,” Harry had insisted pleadingly, green eyes already watering.

Louis had rolled his eyes, exasperated and flippant in the way only beautiful, young boys could be when faced with the affections of a baby prince. He had run his finger down Harry’s cheek then, had forced him to look into his eyes as he delivered the final blow.

“You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen more of the world,” Louis had teased, pressing a brutally delicate kiss onto Harry’s lovely, pure cheek. “Once you’ve been properly defiled.” He had whispered filthily, delighted by the gasp he heard, the frantic pink blush that had rested high on Harry’s cheeks, the power he had felt at knowing he could make the Crown Prince squirm.

To Honor by Awriterwrites / @a-writerwrites

#46. It's Getting a Little Hard

Ech day me comëth tydinges thre, For wel swithë sore ben he: The on is that Ich shal hennë, That other that Ich not whennë, The thriddë is my mestë carë, That Ich not whider Ich shal farë.

**** Each Very grievous are they One must go hence Do not know when Greatest grief Do not know whither I must go

-Unknown, Medieval English lyrics

Commander Styles leads his men to victory, but at what cost?

And down the long and silent street by whimsicule

The year is 1881 and if you’re alone in this world you might as well be dead, because starving dogs have no mercy.

Or: Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

Atlas At Last by @louisandthealien

He doesn’t know what he had been expecting out of the road trip itself besides burping contests and too much shitty gas station food with Oli and Stan, but in the brief moment before Harry ambles up his driveway, Louis idly wonders if this is about to become some sort of Gay Coming of Age story.

Maine to California in ten days. In which Zayn’s an open-shirt hippie they meet somewhere in Ohio, Liam’s the pastor’s son running away from home, and Niall’s the number they call on the bathroom wall.

It’s 1978. Harry and Louis are just trying to get to San Fran in time for the Queen concert.

No One Like You by myownspark / @myownsparknow

Dear Niall,

I was glad to have the chance to talk with you again at the AHA conference. Your idea that the Musee D’Orsay Tomlinson painting is in fact not a self-portrait is an intriguing one, and I may have discovered something that will have a bearing on that theory.

Some background: as you may remember, I’ve been researching for a book I’m writing about Harry Styles. I’ve been in communication with Styles’ last living descendant, who is in possession of a trunk that her family believed to have belonged to Styles himself. It held some personal items she presumes to be his, including two unmounted paintings and a small collection of letters.

Upon spending the last few days in Provins studying these items, I believe there to be a connection between Tomlinson and Styles, and I would very much like your opinion.

Are you up for a trip to France?

Sincerely, Liam Payne

Where Liam and Niall are art historians discovering the truth about two nineteenth century painters on opposite sides of an artistic divide.

The Man Who Saw The Devil by @metal-eye

"The Devil was staring at him.

"Louis shifted slightly in his seat and scratched the back of his neck, picking up his program and reading the title of the play again: L’homme qui a vu le Diable.

"He was wearing a satin red suit, one that certainly stood out amongst the usual greys and blacks of other Paris theatres, and instead of merely appearing the two times that the main character summoned him, this Devil followed the other men around on stage as they spoke and played cards. He kept looking over their shoulders and mocking their awkward movements, jerks and twitches compared to his own lithe prowl. The theatre audience, most readily impressed by gruesome effects and sensationalism, couldn’t take their eyes off him.

"Neither could Louis."

Paris, 1912. Louis is a frequent patron of the Theatre du Grand Guignol. Harry is a performer. Tonight he's playing the Devil.

The Case Of The (Definitely Not Haunted) Styles Mansion by Anonymous

“So there’s a sense of humor buried beneath all that condescension, huh?” Louis said when he’d stopped laughing.

“It’s not condescension, it’s intelligence. I understand you might not be able to recognize it yourself,” Marcel said, then slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh god, I’m sorry.”

Louis stepped closer, his eyes on Marcel’s face. “For being an asshat?”

“For being rude,” Marcel said, from beneath his palm.

Louis shifted a half-step closer until he was at the very edge of Marcel’s personal space. It felt like he was nudging at it, asking to be let in. Marcel flushed hot for no reason.

“Lucky for you it takes quite a lot to actually insult me,” Louis said taking one step closer. Too close. Too close.

Marcel met Louis’ eyes. Those blue eyes that reminded Marcel of poetry instead of science, lyrics instead of formulas. They were so pretty he wanted to drown in them.

---

Or the Nancy Drew AU where Marcel is a man of logic, Louis is a private detective who believes in ghosts, and the Styles Mansion is definitely, absolutely, positively *not* haunted.

Through Eerie Chaos by MediaWhore / @mediawhorefics

For as long as anyone can remember, Old Hillsbridge Manor has always been believed to be haunted. Everyone in the village agrees and keeps a respectful, fearful, distance. New in town after a bad breakup and an internship that led to disappointment rather than a permanent job, Harry Styles figures taking pictures of the decrepit building could be a great new creative project. Or at least a much-needed distraction while he searches for a job and crashes at his parents’ new house. No one warned him about the apparitions though; about the music, the laughter, the people who flicker and vanish when you call after them, the echoes of a past that should be long gone… Harry has never believed in spirits but even he can admit that there’s something weird going on. What starts as mere curiosity evolves into a full-blown investigation and soon enough, Harry finds himself making friends with an aristocrat from the 1920s and struggling with finding the best way to tell him that he’s dead.

The Ghost Hunter AU where Niall lives to prove ghosts are real, Zayn is a skeptical librarian and Harry gets caught up in a century-old mystery and catches feeling in the process.

We’re What’s Right In This World by BriaMaria / @briannamarguerite

“Why did you talk like that in Brighton? If you weren’t planning on ever telling me?” Louis asked. “Is it because you think you’re going to die?”

“It’s war, Lou,” Harry said finally.

The words were a knife slipped between his ribs. Everything hurt and he was bleeding. He shifted up, his palms cradling Harry’s jaw, his lips against his boy’s. Not kissing, just resting there, so Louis could feel him. “Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Harry’s hands smoothed down the sides of Louis’ body. “You know I can’t do that. I’ll never lie to you.”

“Promise me. We’re going to have our cottage. And our dogs. And our breakfast in the garden where nothing grows because of the wind from the sea. Promise me.”

“I won’t.” Stubborn as always, his boy. “I’ll promise you, I’ll love you all my life. I’ll promise you, you’ll never leave my thoughts. I’ll promise you, you’re my forever and my always. But promising you something I can’t cheapens the things I can.” ---- Or the World War II AU where Harry goes off to fight and all Louis wants to do is be the boy who brings him home.

Paint The Sky With Stars by kiwikero / @icanhazzalou

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

Say Hallelujah, Say Goodnight  by @alivingfire

Louis is an angel who is just a little too bad to be good, Harry is a demon who is just a little too good to be bad, and they're both a little too in love to be impartial when angels and demons go to war.

Louis has been alive since life was a mere concept; he watched the summoning of Man into existence, he was there when Eve took the apple. He’s seen seas break the world into separate pieces, he’s watched empires crumble into dust. He’s seen wildfire consume cities, he’s seen the world painted white with snow. He has known the most beautiful humans to walk the planet, he has watched the most powerful mortals gather their riches and influence around them and then die just like the poorest, weakest humans do. He’s met humans whose motives defy explanation, people who use their lives as battering rams, as tools, as weapons, as chess pieces.

None of that stopped Louis in his tracks.

But Harry did.

If you haven’t read Butterfly Gun and you can find someone who has it downloaded (it’s been deleted), read that...it’s set in the 1940′s if I recall correctly and it’s beautifully written. 

I haven’t read this one yet, but it was highly recommended to me. It’s a WIP, but the writing is apparently is finished: 

Victorian Boy by DonnaHaywardsHead

Victorian AU. Harry the virgin Duke of Somerset knows little of love, while Louis the sly Duke of Warwick knows too much. When the two dukes come together for the Bilsdale fox hunt in York, Harry finds himself drawn into Louis' bed. But when secrets from Louis' dark past come to light, Harry fears that the fox isn't the only one being hunted.

This is another I haven’t had a chance to read but friends told me is wonderful:

Back To You And Tennesee by rippedgloves 

Louis Tomlinson rises to rock and roll fame at age twenty three and is thrown into a life of luxury and excess, but being on stage isn’t easy for a boy who has always stuck to the side-lines, and Louis struggles to deal with his new fame as he joins the Grand Ole Opry and is sent out on tour with names like Liam Payne and Elvis Presley. His life takes a turn, however, when his childhood role model, Harry Styles, joins them on tour, and the two become closer than two men in the spotlight are allowed to be.

-

OR, the one where Louis is Johnny Cash and Harry is June Carter

[thearrangment-phff]

XLIII. Château de Belœil

August 2017

"Where are you going?"  

Isabella looked up from her suitcase to find Harry leaning against the door, "Going to Château de Belœil for a couple of days."

"For what?" Asked Harry.

"For the beginning a conference, L'avenir d'Europe."

"The future of Europe," interrupted Harry.

"I'm impressed you knew that. But, yes. My father's cousin The Prince of Ligne and his wife Eleonora are hosting. Princess Christine and Princess Charlotte are traveling with me and Countess Gaelle and Countess Olympia will stay here in London," explained Isabella.

"Princess Christine was born a Princess of Ligne right? That's how she's your father's cousin. Her mother was a Princess of Luxembourg and that's how she's a cousin to your mother. Feel free to stop me when I'm wrong," said Harry.

"All correct so far," smiled Isabella.

"Her brother is the current Prince of Ligne whose wife I know nothing about."

"Michel married Princess Eleonora of Orleans-Braganza who is the sister of Princess Christine's husband Prince Antonio of Orleans-Braganza," finished Isabella.

"Wait so that makes their children double first cousins or something like that?" Asked Harry.

"Yes. You can imagine the shock my great-aunt Alix felt when she found out about the marriages. They married the same year, just a couple months apart and had their first child within months of each other too. It's a complicated family but it works in their own unique way," explained Isabella.

"Can I come with?"  

"Oh, it's going to be boring I don't think you would like it," started Isabella.

"I've had my fair share of boring engagement over the years. The only difference between then and now is I have you by my side," smiled Harry.

"I don't think that's a good idea Harry."

"Who else is going?"

"Some heads of states, European Royalty, some politicians, maybe a prime minister or two. My uncle Jean is one of the speakers for the events but I don't know if anyone of my family is going," replied Isabella.

"What about Joachim?" Asked Harry.

"Why would you say that?"

"You've been distant since the wedding night. I barely see you some days. Sometimes my mind goes crazy at night thinking that whenever you're not here in this room that you're with him or someone else. Someone who would be a better fit for you and your family" admitted Harry.

Isabella walked towards him taking his left hand in hers, "Do our wedding vows mean nothing to you? I promised long before that I would not cheat on you and I will keep that promise."

"Yes, but how long until that promise fades away? I watched as my own parents' marriage fell apart and my family doesn't exactly have the best record when it comes to marriages too."

"Harry, you and I are not like the rest of your family. Our marriage for starters wasn't like theirs. I am not your mother and you are not your father if that's what you're afraid of," continued Isabella.

"You should tell the press that. I thought they were bad comparing Kate to my mother, but you, you seem to look like her in a certain light," said Harry as she stroked her cheek.

"You need to not worry Harry. You and I are in this for the long run," smiled Isabella.

"Would you like for me to go with you?" Asked Harry.

"If you feel like you need to then fine and before I forget my uncle Henri invited you and me to Sebastian's graduation."

"He's already graduating from Sandhurst already? It feels like just a month ago he told me he was going to Sandhurst in the first place."

"Yes, and my uncle was kind enough to invite me since I'm already here in London. Louis will be here the morning of so we can all go together."

"What day would that be?" Asked Harry.

"The 11th of this month. Do you have anything for this month?"

"Just the anniversary of my mother's death. Since it would be 20 years William thinks people will make a bigger deal about everything this time around," answered Harry.

"Oh. Well, I hope things go well."

"Do you want to come?" Asked Harry.

"Oh no, I couldn't. That should be for you and your brother," whispered Isabella.

"I've had to grieve publicly for the past 20 years. Nothing is ever just for William and me when it regards my mother. They all feel as if we are the subjects to do what they want."

"The Royal Family continues to live because of the public support Harry. Once they find no use for you they will cast you out faster than you can imagine. Besides, Adelaide, Christoph's wife is due to give birth at the end of the month so I'm going to visit them for a couple of days. Just to see the newest baby in the family."

"Can I ask something?" Asked Harry.

"Sure."

"Us having kids, Princess Christine explained the process of invitro-fertilization but it still feels like we shouldn't conceive a child like that."

"Harry we aren't having sex and everyone expects us to have children. We've discussed wanting children. We've even gone as far as naming them though it's not definite. Do you think this is how either of us would conceive a child ten years ago? No, of course not. But here we are in this marriage of convenience and we both must go along with things. "

"Can't we try and be a couple? Sure, we are married, but can we pretend like we aren't and just start from the beginning?" Asked Harry.

"We can't do that. One of us may not like the end results and we have something great going so far. Why would we ruin that?" Countered Isabella.

"Because a marriage without love is not one I want to bring children into. Children deserve parents who love each other and in turn love them."

"We don't have to love each other to love our children. Many divorced parents love their children," said Isabella.

"You can't compare us to a divorced couple. You can't even compare us to a normal couple! If I could think of just one couple like us I would, but as you've said earlier we aren't like any of them. Most couples aren't in an arranged marriage nor do they have the eyes of the world upon them. I just need someone to confide in about this and it's clear my own wife won't be my confidant," said Harry in anger.

"Alexander and you may have much more in common than you and I. Give him a chance. Last time I heard he's going to be married to Eleonore von Habsburg. Perhaps he can be your confidant."

"I don't want Alexander! I want you Isabella. I want us to have some sort of relationship so we can make the next couple of decades not so miserable," begged Harry.

"We can't. I can't do that, at least not now," replied Isabella.

"Why not? A couple of weeks ago we were fine, and know... I don't even what is going on between us."

"I need to finish packing. You should pack quickly if you want to come with me."

"We have only been married a month and we are already fighting," laughed Harry.

"We've fought before we were married. No reason to change things up now, am I right?"

"I'll go pack."

When Harry and Isabella got to Château de Belœil they were greeted by The Prince and Princess of Ligne. Now Harry could speak French so when he greeted the Ligne family it shocked all to here Harry speak to them in one of their languages. Though Harry and Isabella only spoke a few words to each other the entire time there.

Isabella had even asked The Prince of Ligne to arranged separate bedrooms for the two. That raised a few questions, but Princess Charlotte of Murat was quick to put rumors to rest by explaining that Harry and Isabella's need for separate rooms was due to their difference in schedules. Isabella was there as a guest of the conference and Harry had been there simply as a guest at the Château de Belœil.

As they returned back to London nothing had changed. Isabella spoke to him as little as possible and her ladies-in-waiting used multiple excuses for Isabella's lack of words. Harry's favorite had been she was at Our Lady Queen of Heaven Catholic Church with Countess Gaelle most of her evenings. He knew Isabella wasn't religious so he, of course, had to wonder were Isabella had been spending most of her nights.

Harry even called Louis and Alexander out of fear. Louis said he doesn't see Isabella that often but she still makes it a point to stop by once every two weeks to see his sons Gabriel and Noah. Alexander hadn't heard from Isabella since the wedding. She was still mad at him because he accepted Eleonore von Habsburg as a future wife.

Things barely changed when he and Isabella went to Sandhurst graduation. Isabella had been seated with Louis and the rest of the Luxembourg Grand Ducal Family to her left and Harry to her right.

"You do realize you both look miserable," whispered Louis.

"The sun is just beaming today that’s all," replied Isabella.

"He isn't a bad guy, I don't know why you're treating him like one."

"I'd be a fool to take marriage advice from a divorced man," snapped Isabella.

"Fine, I was just trying to help."

After a couple of minutes, Isabella reached towards Harry intertwining their fingers. Harry had brought up his hand to kiss the knuckles of Isabella to which she replied with a smile. Isabella thought no one could possibly understand their relationship and Harry agreed. Once the pictures had begun Isabella and Harry watched as the Grand Ducal Family moved around trying to perfect things.

"That might be us in 20 years. Our big family gathering for a picture like this for one of our children's Sandhurst graduation" smiled Isabella.

"How soon do you think we'll make our grandparents great-grandparents again?" Asked Harry.

"Soon," answered Isabella.

"Soon?"

"Very soon."

When Harry and Isabella were walking out of the event Isabella heard her name being called out.

“Izzy!”

Harry had turned around first seeing how Isabella hesitated in turning around. Once the footsteps got louder for Isabella she finally turned around with a forced smile. Harry had recognized it because it was the same smile she had on her face on their wedding day.

“Hi, It’s been a while.”

Isabella had nodded before going into a curtsey. Harry looked a little confused, “It’s good to see you, Your Royal Highness.”

“I think we’re past those formalities. Call me by my name?”

“We are in public,” stated Isabella.

“You called me Hussein the first time we met, remember?”

“To be fair I didn’t know I was being introduced to the Crown Prince of Jordan that is why I didn’t use formalities,” argued Isabella. Harry had cleared his thought, clearly uncomfortable, “Hussein this is my husband Harry.”

“Good to meet you,” smiled Hussein as he shook Harry’s hand, “Sorry about not making it to your wedding. I have other matters to attend to.”

“Your parents and Iman were there so it was fine but it was a bit sad to not see you there.”

“So how do you two know each other?” asked Harry.

“I went to Georgetown University in the states and was introduced to Izzy by a distant relative of mine who was going to Yale. We simply continued our friendship and I even got acquainted with the Luxembourgs through Izzy.”

“It was a rough 5hr drive between us so we would always meet in Philadelphia. Hussein and I bonded over majors. He was an international history major and I was at the time just a global affairs major,” explained Isabella.

“So I’m guessing there was a lot of political talk between the two of you?” asked Harry.

“Not as much as you think. Izzy was only about 1 year older than me when we met but every time she talked it seemed like she was a thousand years old just filled with all this knowledge,” smiled Hussein.

“And that was also the first time I hit him and his protection officers almost killed me for touching the Crown Prince of Jordan,” laughed Isabella.

“What about the nickname?”

“Isabella has Hebrew origins and seeing how I shall be King of Jordan one day I thought I should get myself acquainted with different languages and regions around my country. Jordan borders Israel or as Izzy calls it, Palestine. I’m not an expert but I can get by. I even taught Izzy a few phrases.”

“One day when I was going on a rant about American troops in the middle east after 2001 he laughed and said ‘Izzy calm down’. I only stopped talking because of shock. No one had ever called me that so he said ‘now someone does’. It just happened,” clarified Isabella.

“Isabella and I need to go. It was very nice meeting you,” smiled Harry.

“Well, it was good seeing you too. My father and mother might want to know that you are here. Iman might yell at me if I don’t tell her you are here.”

Isabella looked up at Harry before smiling at Hussein, “We really have to go. Tell your family I said hi.”

Hussein nodded and walked away and Isabella looked up at Harry before he started walking, “Go ahead and ask what you are going to ask.”

“You know the Crown Prince of Jordan?”

“I was a sophomore when he started university. There aren’t many royals in the states besides my cousin Alexandra and a handful of other minor royals so his company was nice,” replied Isabella.

“You know what I’m about to ask next so please just answer before I even have to say a word,” said Harry.

“Yes. It was only a couple of times and I was trying to forget Joachim. If I wasn’t so caught up in my childhood crush he and I could have been something but it wouldn’t last anyhow,” answered Isabella.

“And why wouldn’t it last?” 

“Our religions and yes I understand that I’m not religious but to the public I am. I got excommunicated from the Catholic church just for marrying you and I have my family working to reverse that action. It would make things worse if I married a Crown Prince whose religion is Sunni Islam and converted my religion. I wouldn’t be accepted if we married but it doesn’t matter because that thought was shot down before it could even take off.”

“Is there anyone with a title you don’t have a connection with?”

“Danish and Swedish royals,” answered Isabella with a flat voice.

“Let’s just get in the car and go back to Kensington.”

They didn’t make it the car with no interruptions. Every couple of feet Isabella had been called out causing the royal couple to stop and have to say hi to another pair of royals. Harry understood the Catholic royals knowing Isabella but apparently, the Jordanian Royal knew her too because of the Crown Prince of Jordan.

Some she curtsied to making Harry bow to them and others she did not. Isabella had learned the difference between what Prince of Princess of Jordan to curtsey to depending on their position. The last one where the King and Queen of Jordan. Which Isabella greeted the King and Queen of Jordan with a kiss on the cheek before curtseying.

Harry could hear the camera clicking and the shouting for Isabella. It was a photo op for Isabella in Harry’s mind. The press would be all over the greeting between his wife and the Jordan monarchs. Another article would be written about Harry upstaging his brother, looking more like a future King when in the prescence of other royals. 

The rift between he and his brother was growing larger by the day and it didn’t help Isabella was making things worse for him. She was driving a wdge between him and his brother. Her lack of trying to get to know Will and Kate was putting Harry in an awkward position.