#when Lou locked the door???? man it was so confusing and then Damn

[pearlsdiamondsandvodka]

damn i almost wish the intrepid heroes had done worse this episode because the concept is of this battle was epic as hell. i would have loved to see more of baron being creepy, a confrontation with jawbone and i would have loved to see the other players play baron

[nnightskiess]

₊° 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

‧₊° 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬. 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐛 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟗𝐭𝐡. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚'𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.

tw: touching without consent

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

Julian opened the door with a cheeky smile, keeping it open for his friends and fellow heretics. His grin widened when lastly Nora and Y/N stepped inside— for the first time ever being able to hold hands while walking into a pub.

Even though Julian was pretty heartless, he still loved his little family just like any proud man would. He held a specific adoration for the two women. Not only did their fearless and ruthless attitude impress him every time again, he also loved the soft side they showed when it was just them and their family. Having seen both sides, made him make a promise to himself— to always protect them, no matter what, even though everyone knew both women were fully capable of that themselves.

“Ladies.” He bowed curtly and closed the door after him when everyone was inside.

“Now let’s have fun!”

Lily gave him a look, but her stern expression broke down because of his grin. Valerie and Beau wandered off to the bar, Julian wrapped his arm around a lost-looking Mary-Louise while Y/N’s eyes warily wandered around the place— this world was still new to her and she wasn’t sure if it would ever start to feel normal.

To say Nora was excited was an understatement. She had learned how use a mobile phone sooner than she had visited a pub in the 21st century and couldn’t wait to cross this off her list too. Her hand safely intertwined with Y/N’s, who looked around to take it all in. All the voices were hard to drown out in her head.

Y/N didn’t know how to feel about the world they were dropped in. In a way, the girl was a perfect mixture of Nora and Mary Lou— she was excited to explore this new version of earth but it also terrified her immensely. Scared of the unknown was a better way to put it. But, with Nora by her side, she was sure it wouldn’t be as scary. Besides, she had gone through scarier stuff before. A pub, filled with oddly dressed people talking about unknown or weird topics with electronic devices in their hands was nothing compared to fighting off fellow vampires or vampire hunters.

A squeeze in her hand interrupted her daydream. 

“-Love?”

“I’m sorry?”

Nora stood in front of her with her usual mischievous smile, holding out her other hand for Y/N to hold. Y/N grabbed it and let her lead her to an empty spot in the far corner.

“You sit your pretty butt down and I’ll get us something to drink.”

“No-”

“No weird 21st century cocktail,” Nora cut her off and rolled her eyes in amusement, “I know.” She whispered teasingly. 

Y/N crossed her arms and let out a puff of air. A few people stood crowded around a pool table, seemingly having fun. Right behind them was someone playing darts. 

Y/N snorted when all of his attempts went over the board— his darts now sticking into the wall. Even though she had never played before, she knew she would do way better. 

With the usual strut in her step, she walked over to the guy. She removed the darts out of the wall, not even looking at him. 

Y/N raised her eyebrows, quietly asking him what he was still doing there, standing in her spot. 

“You’re gonna try?” He seemed surprised and also unimpressed. 

“Can’t be worse than you.”

The guy bit his lip and put a hand through his ruffled dark curls. He watched from next to the woman as she threw dart after dart— most landing around around the bulls-eye. 

“Looks like you lost big time.” Nora teased and appeared next to Y/N, handing her girlfriend a drink before looking at the man. He seemed pissed but smug at the same time, now that two women seemed to want to keep him company. 

“Do you want to give it a go?” 

Nora shook her head and took a sip out of her beer bottle after landing on one of the seats around. She shrugged absentmindedly, “Long pointy things aren’t really my thing.”

Y/N playfully rolled her eyes at the innuendo and handed the guy the darts. 

Nora sat with them for a while, shamelessly watching her girlfriend like a hawk while drinking her beer. God, Y/N looked great in these new type of clothes, no matter how much she had complained about how itchy her jeans were or how stupid it was that there were holes in them. Y/N had barely touched her drink, way too focused on their game of darts and thus also not realising how the guy stood closer to her every time they switched places. But Nora had. Oh, Nora definitely had. But like Lily had said before they left: no funny business, which meant that tearing the guy’s heart out was clearly not an option.  

The man finished his bottle of beer, any reservations he previously had washed away with the alcohol in his system. 

“You’re so fucking hot, look at you go.” 

Nora's lip curled into a sneer, ready to jump in.

“And gay.” Y/N’s reply seemed to fly over his head. 

“I doubt darts is the only thing you’re good at.” The way he said it made Nora’s blood boil.

“I better not have heard that correctly.” She flew up in an instant but the look on Y/N’s face told her she was ready to handle it on her own.

The guy held her lower back as he passed her and walked off into the crowd without another word.

Y/N turned around,

“What a dirty pig.”

“Glad that perverted git is gone.”

Nora immediately rolled her eyes at the look that followed on her girlfriend’s face.

“Nora Hildegard....jealous of a good-for-nothing guy? A guy!”

Y/N gave her a playful shove. Nora was barely jealous, Y/N knew that. They had been together for so long and had literally gone through sickness and health and basically died twice together, only coming out of it stronger. There was no one else for Y/N than Nora, and the heretic knew that all too well. 

“I just get disgusted how he treated you. Are there even normal men nowadays, instead of only pigs?”

“There were pigs back then, too.”

“Sure, but they don’t try to hide it now.” Nora grabbed Y/N’s arm and pulled her closer, planting a quick peck on the girl’s lips. Both girls felt triumph knowing that they could finally kiss in public without being beaten out of the pub. They both grinned when they pulled back, knowing they had thought the same. 

“I’m going to get myself another drink, be right back.”

Y/N turned back around and continued throwing darts, though this time she didn’t do her best, she just wanted to pass the time. After a couple minutes of absentmindedly throwing at the board in front of her, she felt a presence behind her. A hand suddenly grabbed her chin from behind and caught her by surprise. When feeling the presence, she had initially thought it was Nora who had returned, but her scent was far away and these rough hands holding her in place weren’t hers, neither were the chapped lips that were forcefully planted on her neck.

In the surprise of it all, she let out a muffled yelp. His intoxicated mind took this as an invitation to continue, making Y/N freeze every muscle in her body. Shove the damn bloke off, she yelled at herself. She knew she had the strength, but she was so shocked that her brain didn’t know how to send the signals to the rest of her body. 

Over at the bar, Nora had heard her girlfriend’s muffled cry for help thanks to her hearing and immediately filtered out the rest. She didn’t care who saw her use her speed, or who would witness the thing about to happen next. All she cared about was helping Y/N and doing whatever harm popped into her mind to the guy holding her locked.

Nora’s speedy walk caught the attention of all the people around and the hushed whispers immediately reached the rest of the heretics.

Y/N still stood there, limp, shocked, horror in her eyes and in that moment, all Nora saw was red. Her eyes darkened, black veins formed around her eyes and her teeth shone in the dim bar light, serving as a warning. She grabbed the man’s head, who finally realised all eyes were on him. 

Nora squeezed his head and slammed it into the wall next to him in full force within a second. She dropped him and gave him a second to recuperate. He groaned and looked dazed... or maybe he was still drunk? Not effective enough, Nora thought. Her eyes quickly flickered to Y/N’s, seeing her girlfriend nod slowly. She was okay. Well, she wasn’t, but she’d be okay until Nora was done with the guy. 

“Nora! Leave it!”

But she zoned out every voice or rational thought and didn’t hear Lily yell. She tended to do that when it came to Y/N being hurt. The rest of the heretics watched in anticipation, knowing Nora wouldn’t do this if the guy hadn’t deserved it. Some of them even wore smirks.

Nora stood over him, an evil and taunting look on her face. 

“Now, that did not have the desired effect I hoped for. Apparently your head’s not as hollow as I deemed it it to be.” Within a flash, she held him by his neck and made him stand up, squeezing the air out of his lungs. His face turned blue, “This might have.”

Her hand dove into his chest and pulled out his heart. People who had previously watched in confusion and terror, now started screaming, especially when Nora turned around— heart in her hand, blood dripping down her arm, eyes bloodshot and fangs out.

“You fool!” Lily frantically looked around, not knowing where to start damage control.

Nora threw the heart behind her, not caring where it landed. He didn’t need it anymore, anyway. She blinked a few times, going back to normal, before running up to Y/N.

She held the girl’s cheeks and softly examined her before her eyes landed on her girlfriend’s face. The look Nora had sported not even ten seconds ago, the one that had frightened everyone in the bar, completely vanished the moment she held her girlfriend in her arms. Instead, her soft eyes were now filled with worry.

“Are you alright?!”

Y/N kept quiet, ashamed she couldn’t stand up for herself. Nora nodded, knowing very well what Y/N was thinking but couldn’t say. Being together for so many years made it easy to read someone that well. 

She pulled her into a tight embrace, holding her girl’s head close to her chest and planting multiple kisses on her hair. She softly massaged the girl’s scalp. She knew Y/N always responded better to physical contact, which was why Nora used it to calm the girl down most times.

Y/N was safe now, in her arms, and Nora would protect her with her life. In this century and in the next.

*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*

tag list: @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ 

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

can we have sub!Lou calling the reader mommy while she fingers him? Please🥺

Thank you for the request! I mention SF9 in this story, but I don't think I'm ready to open requests for them yet, since I don't know much about them. I have been listening to Pentagon a lot and am comfortable with making imagines for them so Pentagon requests are now open if anyone want to request any.

⚠️Warnings⚠️: sub!Lou, fem!dom!reader, mommy kink, fingering (male recieving)

Love at First Sight

You had known Dawon for a few years now, so you had known all of his friends pretty well. Dawon had also known that you were pretty antisocial and wouldn't talk to people unless you had to, though once you did start talking you didn't really have any problems. He wasn't really one to meddle in one's social life, but he dragged you to a little get together he was having with his friend, Ayno, and the rest of both their bands, claiming you needed more friends. You had met the rest of SF9 and Ayno, but hadn't met the other members of VAV. You threw on ripped jeans and a random t-shirt from your closet, grabbing your leather jacket and putting on your converse after you brushed your hair. As you finished tying your shoes, you heard a car horn honk from outside and opened your door to see Dawon sitting in his car waiting for you with Taeyang and Youngbin.

:readmore:

     "Is everyone else already there?" You asked as you entered the car.

     "Nah, the other members are taking a van to fit all of them and we're meeting in a restaurant close to VAV's dorms so they're already there." You nodded in understanding and continued to talk to the boys about random things until you pulled up to the restaurant. You looked through the window and saw the other members of SF9 happily talking to Ayno and a few other people you didn't recognize. You all hopped out of the car and entered the restaurant, quickly walking over to their table. 

     "Hey guys!" Dawon greeted as you neared the table. Everyone immediately quieted down and turned towards his voice with a smile before greeting all of you. Ayno stood up and walked over to give Dawon a hug before turning and hugging you as well.

     "Guys, I want you all to meet (y/n)!" Ayno said enthusiastically with his arm around your shoulder. The boys you didn't recognize waved at you with a smile.

     "(Y/n), this is Geumhyuk, Baron, Ace, Jacob, Ziu, and Lou." Each waved with a polite 'hello' after their name was said. Your eyes lingered on the last boy for a second before you waved back politely. Damn he's cute. You thought to yourself before he shyly looked away. You took a seat in front of Lou, since it was the only seat available (not that you were complaining). You stole glances at him every once in a while throughout the night, not noticing him doing the same. Dawon, however, did notice the shy little glances Lou would throw your way before his ears turned red and a small smile would spread across his face. Dawon smiled brightly and nudged Ayno with his elbow, making him look up at him in confusion. Dawon quickly gestured to you and Lou, and they looked at each other with determination in their eyes.

     You were laughing at a joke Lou had said as you left the restaurant. You didn't notice how he smiled at your laugh with a sparkle in his eyes. Dawon and Ayno smiled at each other before Dawon told Hwiyoung to get in their car while you were distracted and gestured for the other van to drive away. When you turned back around, you were confused to see Hwiyoung in your seat.

     "Oh, man, sorry. Hey Ayno, could one of you give her a ride home?" Dawon yelled over to him. Ayno smiled brightly and nodded his head, running over to you before dragging you to their van. As Geumhyuk was moving to sit beside Lou, Ayno pulled him out and moved him to the front seat.

     "What the hell are you doing?" Geumhyuk asked Ayno as everyone got situated in the car. Ayno quietly gestured to the rear view mirror, showing him Lou's blushing face as you situated yourself next to him. Geumhyuk smiled giddily, before he got an idea.

     "Hey, Ayno, I'm sure a lot of us are tired, so you could drop us off at the dorms and someone could stay and drive her home." Ayno smiled brightly at the suggestion. 

     "That's a good idea. Hey Lou, why don't you drive her back home?" Jacob was about to protest, saying he could just drive her home since he wasn't that tired, but Ace elbowed him in the side and shook his head no. Jacob looked at him in confusion.

     "I'll explain it to you when we get inside." He whispered to Jacob as they pulled into the dorm parking lot. The rest of the members jumped out of the car before Ayno threw a stuttering Lou the car keys and ran to the dorm room with the other members. You both sat in silence for a moment before you unbuckled and opened the car door.

     "Well, we better get moving. It's already pretty late." You said as you moved to the front seat. Lou nodded and followed closely behind you before cranking the car and driving where you directed him. You were both laughing at a story you told as you pulled into your driveway. 

     "Well, here we are…" you said sadly as you unbuckled. You paused before opening the door and turned to him.

     "Can I have your number? It's just that I wanna keep talking to you and I think we should definitely hang out again sometime soon." He smiled brightly before pulling out his phone to get your number.

     "Yeah, definitely! Except, um, maybe next time we could go somewhere else… with just the two of us?" He asked quietly and looked up at you with a nervous smile and red ears. You softly smiled and chuckled at his suggestion.

     "Are you asking me on a date?" He paused with a panicked expression.

     "W-would you say yes if I was?" You laughed.

     "Of course I would." He let out a breath and smiled brightly at you.

     "Then, yes. Y-yes I am."

     "Great, I'll see you later then."

     "W-wait!" He exclaimed as you moved to open your door. You turned and looked at him quizzically as he coughed awkwardly.

     "I-I'll walk you to your door." You softly smiled and nodded. You paused again when you made it to your door before turning to give him a kiss on the cheek at the same time he turned to say goodbye, making your lips collide. Both of your eyes widened but neither of you pulled away. You slowly closed your eyes and brought your hand up to cup his face. Lou closed his eyes as well and leaned into your touch. He didn't notice the small, submissive whine that fell past his lips until you pulled away. Your eyes widened as you heard the sound and he jerked backwards, covering his mouth after he realized what he did.

     "Fuck, I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I probably weirded you out, I'm sorry! You can rethink the date if you want, I just-" you cut off his rambling as you pulled his head towards you and kissed him again, harder than you had before and pulled away after a few seconds. 

     "Fuck, that was hot. I want you to make that sound again." He whined again as you bit his lower lip and shoved your tongue in his mouth. You groaned against his lips and dragged him inside, kicking the door closed behind you and locking it. You brought him into another heated kiss as you pressed him against the wall, making him let out a low moan at your dominating aura.

     "You sound so fucking pretty baby." He whimpered and felt his legs buckle beneath him at the low growl in your voice. The only thing keeping him up was the tight grip you had on his waist as you bit and sucked on his neck.

     "F-fuck, please…" he whined out and gripped your shoulders as you brought your knee up between his thighs, letting him grind his hard-on against it.

     "Please what? You're gonna have to be more specific, babyboy." He bit his lip at the pet name and grinded his hips against your leg faster.

     "Please fuck me! Please!" He managed to say between moans. You smirked against his neck and dragged him to your bedroom. He was panting heavily by the time you had him pinned beneath you on the bed. You let him catch his breath as you took off his shirt and pressed light butterfly kisses down his chest and stomach. You licked a stripe from above his belly button to the underside of his jaw, making him squirm beneath you with a low moan. You bit down on the junction of his neck to make him moan louder.

     "O-oh fuck, please touch me! Fuck, please mommy!" You stopped your actions for a second as you let his words sink in. You could see his face burn bright red in embarrassment, the redness also visible on his ears and all the way down to his chest. Your pupils dilated at the name and you harshly grinded your hips to meet his. He let out another deep moan at the friction as his grip on your shoulders tightened, leaving marks from where his nails dug into your skin.

     "You know just what to say to rile me up, don't you baby? Fuck- if you keep saying things like that I'm gonna have trouble holding back." You grunted out through quiet moans as you continued to grind your hips into his. He whined and bucked his hips to occasionally meet yours.

     "Then d-don't hold back." He moaned in your ear and moved his hands to remove your shirt and jacket, throwing them to the side as he kissed down your newly exposed chest.

     "Are you sure baby? I wouldn't want to do anything you're… uncomfortable with." You said as you squeezed Lou's ass, smirking at the shakey moan he let out when you pressed your finger lightly over where his asshole was.

     "Please!" He whined out loudly, continuously moving his hips back on your fingers as you squeezed his ass again.

     "Please what?"

     "S-shit- Please mommy! I need you! Want your fingers fucking me so hard I forget my own name! P-please mommy!" You bit your lip to hold back the loud moan you almost let out and moved to take off his pants quickly. He whimpered under you as you palmed him through his boxers and kissed and sucked on his thighs, leaving even more marks. He let out a loud moan followed by a needy whimper when you pressed a kiss to his cock over his boxers. You quickly removed your own pants before taking off his boxers, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach. You left a trail of kisses up his thighs before licking a stripe slowly up the underside of his dick. His eyes rolled back as he grabbed the pillow under his head and moaned at the feeling of your tongue on him. While he was distracted with your mouth pressing kisses to and occasionally licking his thighs and cock, you grabbed lube from your bedside cabinet and spread some over your fingers.

     "F-fuck!!!" He whimpered out loudly as you thrusted your fingers slowly into him. The room filled with his moans as they gradually got louder, until his back arched off the bed and he let out a higher pitched moan (it wasn't that high pitched since his voice is naturally so deep, but was higher than it had been the rest of the night).

     "AH! R-Right there! F-fuck- Mommy!! F-feels so good!" You thrusted your fingers into him even faster, abusing that spot as much as you could. He was moaning so loud you were sure the whole street could hear him. You moved your other hand to start pumping his dick as you pressed your lips to his in a heated kiss to quiet him down a little bit to make sure you wouldn't get a noise complaint. He whined and whimpered against your lips as he felt your tongue move in his mouth, exploring it's new territory before you pulled away. You brushed your lips lightly over the dark marks you left of his neck, making him whimper louder as he squirmed beneath you.

     "Do you like the marks mommy left on you baby?" You asked condescendingly as you sped up the pace of both of your hands. His eyes rolled back in his head as his mouth fell open, not making a sound. Your hand that was on his dick squeezed tightly, making his thighs shake as he let a loud moan fall from his lips. Drool was now beginning to seep out of the corner of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut in euphoria.

     "Mommy asked you a question babyboy. Do you like being marked up like this?"

     "F-fuck-YES! Ngh- wanna show e-everyone who I belong to!"

     "Who owns you baby? I want to hear you say it." He whimpered before moaning out his answer as he threw his head back and gripped your shoulders.

     "Y-YOU! FUCK- You do mommy!! S-shit!! I'm mommy's property! N-no one else can touch me like m-mommy can!" You felt his dick twitch in your grip and looked down to see how red it was.

     "You can cum now baby."

     "T-thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank y-you!!" Lou started mumbling incoherently beneath you as he moved to pull at his already messy hair with more drool falling down his chin. His hips began bucking against you wildly as his thighs shook. Loud moans and curses fell from his mouth before he came as he yelled out a broken and hoarse 'mommy'. You slowed the pace of both of your hands, letting him ride out his orgasm, before you took your hands off of him. You pressed loving kisses up his neck, over his jaw, and finally landing on his perfectly soft lips. He weakly wrapped his arms around your neck as you pulled the blanket that was beside you up and wiped the cum off his stomach and chest before lazily balling it up and throwing it in the laundry basket. You got up from the bed and moved to the door to get him some water from the kitchen.

     "W-where are you going?" He weakly asked from behind you. You turned around and saw him looking up at you through his eyelashes with glossy eyes. You rushed over and pressed some comforting kisses to his lips.

     "I'll be right back baby, I'm just gonna get you some water, alright." He nodded, pressing one last kiss to your lips before you walked out of the room. True to your word, you returned a few minutes later with a glass of water in your hands. You handed him the glass, watching him take a few gulps before setting it down on the bedside cabinet. 

     "Do you want your boxers?" He looked at you with sadness in his eyes, misunderstanding your words. You grabbed boths sides of his face and gave him a light peck on his nose.

     "No no no no, I'm not asking you to leave, sweetheart. I was just thinking that it would be easier for you to sleep if you had some form of clothes on." He sighed in relief before nodding his head. You picked up his boxers and tossed them to him, letting him get comfortable before you wrapped your arms around him and let him cuddle into you. You heard his breathing slow, indicating that he was asleep, before you kissed his forehead one last time and fell asleep with a content smile on your face.

[lululawrence]

lululawrence’s Fics Posted in 2019

Master Fic Masterpost / Buy me a Coffee?

2019 was a bit crazy, but I’m so proud of the fics that I’ve been able to write and publish this year! There were quite a few of them, so here they are in order of when they were published. I hope you enjoy!

Hey Look, Ma (9k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“I’m so sorry,” a deep voice said.

Louis made sure he’d only dropped his hat, reached down to pick it up, and was dusting it off when he finally looked up.

“It’s alright...mate…” Louis had seen this man before. He was gorgeous. He lived somewhere in the area, because Louis would often pass him on the street heading home from the tube or the nearest bus stop.

And now, here he was. Standing in all his fluffy, curly haired glory in front of Louis, apologising for nearly bowling him over.

“I really am sorry, though. Let me get you a coffee to make up for it?”

Or the one where Louis is a hybrid who agrees to go on a blind date with his neighbour's colleague's son the same night he literally runs into his dream man. Surely this isn't going to end well... or is it?

Charisma (5k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was smiling, and maybe blushing a little as well, as he accepted the phone back. “Thank you,” he glanced down at his phone and then said, “Louis.”

Smiling happily at the way Harry had said his name, Louis watched him leave the room. The further away he got, the more confused Louis was. Yes, Harry was gorgeous, but how the hell had he forgotten that Harry was also the man who had caused him to almost have a major accident earlier because of his haphazard driving? How had he allowed Harry to distract him with his charm to the extent that instead of giving the man a lecture, Louis accepted the offer of a date?

Well. Whatever the reason was, Louis wouldn’t forget when Harry called. Louis would give him a piece of his mind then and see if Harry still wanted to go out with him at that point. Because yeah, Louis was not mad enough about his overreaction to Harry, both on the road and at the event tonight, to turn that opportunity for a date down. He wasn’t stupid.

Or the one where Harry feeds on awesomeness (possibly literally). Louis is awesome and also angry. They’re probably going to fall in love.

Drabbles for Harry's Birthday Drive 2019 (25k) - Various Pairings

Each chapter is a different drabble dedicated to a person who donated to Harry's birthday drive! The prompt requested as well as the pairing are in the author’s note for each chapter as well. There are multiple pairings due to various pairings being requested by the donors, so please pay attention to that information in each chapter! Pairings include Harry/Louis, Zayn/Liam,, Grimmy/Louis, Greg/Louis,  Zayn/Louis, and Niall/Shawn.

It’s the Climb (25k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis stretched out his back and turned around, startled to see the most beautiful man he’d ever encountered in his life riding towards him on a horse.

He had to still be asleep. This was one of those super weird dreams people had where the knight in shining armor (or in this case, red sleeveless flannel) literally rode up to them calling their name.

The Hannah Montana AU where Louis is a world famous punk rock singer with a stage name of William and Jay drags him back to Tennessee for the summer. In her attempt for Louis to get back to his roots, he just so happens to reconnect with Harry, and things never go quite as Louis expects them to.

It Was Only a Kiss (16k) - Various Pairings

I participated in a kiss prompt drabble challenge on Tumblr, and ended up writing thirty-three drabbles! Because of the amount all for one challenge, I decided to post them on AO3 to save them. Each prompt exists on its own without relation to others, so pick and choose as you like.

If You Want To Be Loved (0.5k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Greg can't sleep. For once, he doesn't really mind.

(Something’s Been) Hiding In My Heart (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“My eyes must be deceiving me,” Harry said in his slow drawl. His voice was deeper than Louis remembered. Maybe some things had changed after all.

“They aren’t deceiving you. I’m here because I need you to finally sign these papers,” Louis said before he dropped the stack of paper on the hood of the car and held out a pen to Harry. “Just do it, Harry. Get it over with and then I’ll be out of your life forever, alright?”

Face blank of all emotion outside of a sneer Harry said, “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

“God,” Louis groaned. Harry just couldn’t let this be easy. His pride wouldn’t allow it. “You know, I never really understood that phrase, but no. I am not ‘shitting’ you. Just sign the damn papers.”

“Ya know, I don’t think I will,” Harry said before turning back to the front door.

When the screen door slammed behind him, Louis realized Harry didn’t have anything else to say.

Or a Sweet Home Alabama AU where Louis comes home to finally get his divorce from Harry finalized so he can move on with his life. Alderford holds its own set of challenges when he returns, but by facing his past maybe he can find the healing he so desperately needs.

You Try To Be Everything (I Need) (36k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Wars, and rumours of wars, were nothing new for the world in the twenty-fourth century. The fighting had evolved over the years, and rarely did it involve traditional weapons. A group most widely known as the Southern Powers gained strength amongst portions of the western European continent and spread quickly.

There was a fight the Southern Powers didn’t expect coming from the north of England, though. Resistance came in the form of an organised underground; a group comprised of people with the Touch that did the best they could to enforce a line that would not be crossed. Slowly, that line was moved from the Channel to boundaries further and further north. It seemed only a matter of time before the Southern Powers took over everywhere.

Until that time, people did the best they could to live their lives in some semblance of normality. For Louis Tomlinson, that sense of normality was about to change when his best friend, Harry Styles, goes missing.

Louis embarks on the journey of a lifetime where he uses his newly developed abilities to search for his friend, even when it takes him to places he never thought he would see while surmounting trials he never could have imagined.

You Turned Up (Like a Friend of Mine) (10k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis padded downstairs, feeling incredibly thirsty. He filled up a glass of water and was about to take a drink when a loud knock sounded at the door accompanied by some yelling and ringing of the doorbell.

“What the hell?” Louis muttered, setting his glass on the counter and rushing towards the door.

As he got closer to the door, though, his mind stopped whirling because the voice was one that was etched forever in his mind, but one that he never thought he would ever hear again.

“Why’s the door locked? Did you seriously go without me? And who’s car is in the driveway? Lou, I knew you’d be late to get me. We’re going to miss-”

Louis whipped the door open, sure that he was just imagining things. There was no way…

Except there was. Standing on the front step was the curly haired, boy-faced Harry Louis had last seen ten years ago today.

Or the one where Harry disappears on graduation day only to show up on Louis' door looking exactly the same ten years later. Through a series of strange events, maybe they can finally figure out that they're destined to be together, no matter what.

Stealing Flowers (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”

He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Standing in the mess Greg’s shift had left behind, Louis decided he would start small. He’d organise the paint colour cards that displayed the names and then get started on the sample tins. It wasn’t until he started opening the boxes of colour cards that Louis started to wonder whether Nick had been the one to name the paint after all.

Yellow, Is It Me You’re Looking For? was along the top left corner of a mustard yellow card. Nick was as big a fan of puns and music as anyone, so while it was unorthodox, Louis didn’t think too much of it. Part of the appeal of Annie’s Hardware was that they didn’t take things too seriously while always maintaining professionalism.

The names that followed did leave Louis to wonder if Annie knew exactly what the chosen paint names were, though. The Colour Of My Tears When ‘FRIENDS’ Ended for a soft white, Barneys Blood for a pale purple, and Blond. James Blond. for a sand tone had Louis convinced that it was a different co-worker who had renamed the colours.

Or the one where Louis has pined after Greg for what seems like ages, but when Greg renames the company's paint colors, something might finally be ready to give.

Like a Lighthouse On The Coast (I Need You) (19k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis placed his order with the server and was about to type up some possible lyrics when he heard the music being piped in go silent and a throat was cleared into a mic.

Oh God no. If Louis had known there was going to be live music, he would have chosen somewhere else. Why did they have to ruin what was truly the perfect ambiance for Louis with some sub-par wannabe singer-songwriter?

“Hello, I’m going to sing some songs for you tonight. I hope you like them.”

The voice was deep and smooth, slower than Louis had expected. It made him want to look up at the singer rather than cower into the corner of his booth.

So he did. The man didn’t look nervous at all, but he didn’t look like the cocky asshole Louis had been expecting either. Louis continued to brace himself as he took in the simple Ramones shirt and jeans the man was wearing, when something Louis hadn’t been expecting happened.

The man began to play his guitar, and he was good.

And then, the man began to sing.

Or the one where Louis has all the pressure of his sophomore album and none of the inspiration, but maybe all he needs is someone like Harry Styles to turn all that around.

Oh Honey, Honey (4k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis hated honey. He didn’t like the flavour, he didn’t understand why some liked it in their tea, he hated when it was put on sandwiches or cake or anything really. But, standing stock still in front of a rather large display of honey in that 24-hour Tesco, Louis found himself grabbing the largest jar of “100% pure London-local honey” and adding it to his trolley, simply because he knew it would make Harry smile.

Louis always wanted to make Harry smile.

Or the one where Louis pines after Harry, Harry is passionate about helping save the bees, and a late night shopping trip gone wrong doesn't end quite as horribly as Louis imagines.

You Don’t Care About Me (One More Night) (60k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

“Nick. You’re into guys. What should I do?”

Nick snorted. “You think just ‘cause I’m gay, I know what you should do?”

Louis blinked at him and Nick admired his eyelashes against his will. “Well. Kind of, yeah.”

“That is not how this works,” Nick said. “Besides, it’s not like you can just go and suck someone’s dick to be sure you like it the way I did. You’re too famous to try it my way.”

Louis’ expression changed to one of awe. “That’s how you figured it out? You sucked some random’s dick?”

Nick shrugged. “Yeah. Basically. I mean, I knew for pretty damn sure before that, mind you, but that did solidify the matter for me.”

“I need to suck a dick,” Louis said, turning to look at the wall of Nick’s room.

“You could suck mine, if it would help,” Nick offered before he could stop himself.

Or the one where Louis pines for Harry and Nick helps ease his way into figuring himself out through a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. Things quickly turn complicated.

A Taste of Honey (3k) - Greg James/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door expecting someone with Deliveroo. Instead his gaze lifted so he could look at a very frazzled, incredibly fluffy haired Greg James who was inexplicably holding out a very large jar of honey.

“Hello, Gregory,” Louis said slowly.

Shifting around, Greg stepped forward and held the honey out towards Louis again. “This is for you.”

“Erm, alright,” Louis said before carefully taking the heavy jar from him. “Thank you?”

Greg flashed a wide grin, nodded, and then without another word walked back out the front door of the building.

Or the one where Louis has been pining after Greg ever since he started his job. Greg randomly showing up at his flat with a jar of honey might be just the push Louis needs to finally talk to the man.

Just Like Honey (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Louis opened the door and he looked so soft and beautiful. He was in a ratty pair of grey joggers and that was it. Harry had never seen him look so good.

When Harry finally raised his eyes from Louis’ chest, he realised Louis had likely said something.

“Uh,” Harry said, clearing his throat. “Sorry, what did you say?”

Smirking a little, Louis crossed his arms and popped his hip. “I said, ‘Hello, Harry. What brings you here so late on a Saturday?’”

Then his brain kicked in.

“Right, fuck. Hi, Louis. I just wanted to give you this.”

Louis’ brows creased as Harry held the honey out to him. Taking the jar from Harry, he said, “Honey?”

Nodding, Harry said, “Yep. Hope you have a great night!”

Fisting his hands at his sides in frustration, Harry left the building as quickly as he could.

Honey, Honey, How You Thrill Me (3k) - Greg James/Harry Styles

Harry knocked once more before coming to the conclusion that knocking for longer than that was rude.

He’d just decided to leave when the door opened.

“Fuck, you were asleep, weren’t you?”

“Well, it’s past 8, so yeah, basically,” Greg said with a yawn.

God, he’d been asleep for over an hour. Harry was the worst.

“I’m so sorry. Here. Take this and get back to sleep. I’m so incredibly sorry for waking you up,” Harry babbled, shoving the jar of honey into Greg’s hands.

Greg looked at the jar then back up at Harry, still not saying anything. Probably because his brain was still asleep just like his body would’ve been if Harry hadn’t been a fucking idiot.

“Sorry again!” Harry said before giving a lame wave and rushing off to the nearest tube station.

Or the one where Harry pines after fellow Radio 1 DJ Greg James but doesn't know how to start a conversation with him...until he gets the needed inspiration.

Our Love is Timeless (6k) - Niall Horan/Shawn Mendes

He rinsed out his shampoo and began to scrub at his body. Turning around to rinse his back and wash his front, Shawn was not prepared to be met with a cursing blond Irishman.

Letting out a rather loud, high pitched scream and covering himself as best he could, Shawn backed up into the wall behind him, which also turned off the shower.

“Thanks, mate. Was hoping not to get my clothes entirely soaked,” the man said as he began stepping out of the shower stall. “Say, what year is it?”

“I...what?” Shawn sputtered. “You just show up, fully clothed, in a stranger’s shower and your first question is what year it is? How the fuck did you get in here? Why my shower? Who are you?”

“Well, yeah. I guess so. I’ve not quite got a handle of the whole time traveling thing yet.”

Or the one where Shawn falls for Niall, who just happens to be a time traveler. The course of true love never did run smooth.

Like Honey to the Bee (3k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

Nick didn’t even remember knocking, but suddenly the door he also didn’t realise he was leaning on opened and he started falling inside Louis and Harry’s flat.

“Fuck,” Nick blurted as he tried to right himself. He was caught by Louis, which was great because he was exactly who he wanted to see and he didn’t really fancy dropping a massive jar of honey on his doorstep.

“Nicholas?” Louis asked.

Nick couldn’t help it. Hearing Louis call him by his full name made him shiver. He usually hated it, but there was something magical about Louis Tomlinson that made the usual negative association suddenly become an incredibly positive one.

“I brought you honey,” Nick blurted as he handed Louis the jar.

“I can see that,” Louis said, sounding confused. “Thanks?”

“Of course! It’s what friends do, yeah?”

Or the one where Nick has been trying to find a way to get past the banter stage with Louis for ages, and honey might be just what he needs to finally do so.

Rings and Things (2k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Niall: I know you’re a lesbian and all, but this is fast even for you

Or the one where Harry wakes up after a night of drinking to find her bed isn't empty and there's a ring she's never seen before on a very important finger.

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Grounded (28k) - Nick Grimshaw/Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“Shit, I definitely missed the last train.”

“Oh no,” Louis lamented. “I’d offer a ride, but I’m part of a carpool and we’re full already. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.” Then, what Louis said sank in. “Wait, I thought you were here alone?”

“Oh, I am. I’m the only one dancing here tonight. The others were working. In fact, here’s Nick now.”

It felt like slow motion as a tall, lanky man with incredible hair came walking over towards Louis. He smiled before pulling Louis into him and giving him a quick kiss.

“Nick, this is my new friend Harry. He just moved to the area and he’s amazing at swing. Harry, this is my husband, Nick.”

Fuck.

Or the one where Harry moves to Washington DC to be a nanny and never expects that his past struggles with love will be brought to a head. He definitely never expects the solution to it all will be the man of his dreams that just so happens to be married to the other man of his dreams.

A Halloween M(ass)hap (1k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was never going to forgive Niall. He’d been so distracted by his roommate’s cleaning and fussing while he had been looking for the perfect trousers for Liam’s annual Halloween fancy dress party that he’d not realised the black leather trousers he’d chosen to complete his vampire look were arseless.

Of course there was a no return policy, so he’d done the only thing he could do in order to not waste the money he’d already forked out online for the damn things: he added a cape.

Surely, nothing could go wrong.

I Wanna Love (Like You Made Me Feel) (28k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

By the time Harry and Louis are eighteen years old, they've known each other all four years of high school. Through those years, they never have a real chance to spend time together just the two of them. The summer after graduation gives them that chance, and it changes just about everything.

Ten years later, Louis returns home feeling like a failure after losing his job and not knowing where to go next. He never expects to run into Harry again, much less rekindle their friendship. Could this finally be their chance to finish what they started all those years ago, or did they really miss their chance at love?

Swipe Right for a Clean Flat (3k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Harry was done. He was over this shit. He literally only asked his flatmate to do one chore, and that was the washing up. He couldn’t even handle a few plates and cups. Harry obviously overestimated him.

Louis wasn’t that bad. It was just that he only did the washing if he was going out to pull and wanted to bring someone home. If the dishes were put away, that was how Harry knew to vacate the premises. There was no way he was going to listen to yet another girl moan Louis’ name while Harry laid in bed and wondered what it might be like if only Louis liked men.

Glaring at the full sink and debating washing up himself - again - Harry finally turned and stalked to his room.

“Dire circumstances,” Harry muttered as he picked up his phone and unlocked it.

Or the one where Harry and Louis are flatmates and Harry is tired of Louis not doing the washing up. He figures signing up on Tinder as a hot girl might be just the fix for this issue.

You’re a Nightmare, I’m a Disaster (7k) - Nick Grimshaw/Louis Tomlinson

As Nick scanned the shelves, his eyes caught on a bright blue binding. Snooki, it read, A Shore Thing.

“Oh my God,” Nick mumbled, trying not to laugh as he picked it up. He’d watched bits and pieces of Jersey Shore way back in the day.

Without bothering to look any further around the store, he headed up to the counter where Blue eyes was watching him. Nick cleared his throat nervously and set the book on the counter and the man immediately flashed him a look of disdain.

“Seriously? Out of everything we have available, you chose the book we special ordered for a customer?”

“Well, it can’t be that bad if someone specifically requested it, right?” Nick said, trying to keep a teasing tone.

“Why do you think we still have it if it was a special order?” the man asked with a scoff. “They returned it after reading something like three pages.”

Nick frowned at the book. “Well that doesn’t seem very fair.”

Or the one where Nick is a writer, Louis works in a bookshop, and things don't exactly start off on the right foot, but they might just end on it.

The Goat Guy of Bethlehem (26k) - Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

“What a pretty little thing!” a voice cried, catching Harry's attention.

Harry looked up, assuming it was a merchant talking to Gemma or some other “citizen” of Bethlehem, but when he did, he found a woman with bright eyes and long dark hair walking over to him.

“Me?” He wasn’t sure what to expect from any of this since she wasn’t a merchant he had met before.

“Yes, you! I think you’d make a very good husband for my son. Are these your parents?”

“Uh, yes?” Harry said, almost like a question. Robin and his mom just watched on with amusement, much to his chagrin.

Turning to Anne and Robin, the merchant woman said, “I’ll give you six goats for the marriage of your son to mine.”

Or every year, Harry and his family attend a church festival called Bethlehem. Harry's freshman year of high school Bethlehem expands, bringing in new vendors, including one that just might change everything for Harry. But first, he has to see if Anne and Robin are willing to part with him for the price of a few goats.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Burned Part 14

Summary:  Alfie Solomons is in need of a secretary. Tommy Shelby mentions a young woman in need of employment. From there the two step into a dangerous dance together.

Part 14: Alfie grovels.

           It was midday about a week after Charlie Shelby was kidnapped. For more than one reason, Alfie was relieved to hear the little boy was returned unharmed. Not only was he safe but now Alfie didn’t have to further incur the wrath of Tommy or Louise.

           The week had been torturous though. She was still holding him on a probationary period. So, he stepped up his game to win her over again. Flowers crowded her desk, a diamond bracelet appeared on her wrist overnight, and he made sure to uphold his promise of transparency.

           But Louise was being coy because she wanted him to earn her back. It wasn’t every day Alfie Solomons was ignored. She felt it was healthy for him to know how it felt.

           Instead, it was driving him crazy. Now a desperate man, he threw caution at the wind. After Louise returned from seeing some friends for lunch, she went into Alfie’s office. She was filing a few things when he walked in. She gave him a glance of acknowledgment but simply resumed her task wordlessly.

           Alfie didn’t speak either which was a good indication he was scheming. He locked the door behind him and casually went about pulling the blinds shut.

           Louise pretended not to notice. She heard his footsteps and finally, he embraced her from behind. His strong arms circled around her waist. “Did I tell you how fucking gorgeous you look?” He purred.

           She bit back a smile but only shrugged in response.

           “’Course I ain’t surprised. Always look beautiful, don’t you?”

           “Is Alfie Solomons resorting to flattery?” Louise cocked an eyebrow. Her fingernails flipping quickly through the files.

           “Only if it’s working.” He kissed right below her earlobe because he knew that was one of her weakest points.

           It did make her misplace a paper, only realizing her mistake a moment later when he quit. “You’re good at talking, Captain Solomons.”

           His lips smiled against her skin. “And you know what it does to me when you call me that.”

           She let a smirk slip past. But she had her wits about her and wasn’t ready to let him off the hook. “Can’t you see I’m a little busy trying to sort out your messes? You’ve scattered these account papers all over the place. And I can hardly read your handwriting.”

           Alfie rested his chin on her shoulder. “Sorry, love. Can I take you out tonight?” He asked.

           “Still trying to butter me up?”

           He groaned and buried his face in the crook of her neck. During business interactions, Alfie would rather die than beg. The gangster had an uncompromising image. He would cede, as he had before. But he was going to get the last word no matter what. But Louise wasn’t a business transaction. If he was going to get anywhere he had to put his ego aside, realize he was in the wrong, tuck his tail between his legs, and keep working towards forgiveness. “Yes.” He admitted.

           Louise smiled and reached up to run her fingers through his hair. It was good to know that he was trying everything he could to make it up to her. She decided he deserved a break. “Yes, I’ll go out with you tonight.”

           He lifted his head in victory. “We can go wherever you want.” He promised and reached up to still her hands. He took the papers from her hands and tossed them aside. Lacing his fingers with her left hand, he raised it so they could both admire her ring. “Been thinking ‘bout our wedding.”

           “Oh yeah?” Her knees went a little weak at the idea he was dreaming about that special day in the future.

           “S’gonna be perfect, innit? You can have it however you want, yeah, but when it’s over, I’m taking you to Paris.”

           “Paris?” Louise turned to face him. Her eyes lit up. “I love Paris, I haven't been so long.”

           Alfie smiled. “Yeah? Well good. ‘Cause we’ll stay as long as we damn well please, won’t we?” He murmured and pulled her close to kiss her deeply.

           She giggled against his lips as he lifted her up and placed her on top of his desk.

           “You and me, love.” He grazed his lips over her jaw and down her neck. “Mr. and Mrs. Solomons in Paris.”

           Hearing the name made Louise’s resolve weak. He was being unfair and knew what strings to pull to make her swoon. She squirmed when his beard tickled her skin. “City of love.” She sighed happily.

           “And a good thing too, innit? That way, neighbors can’t complain when we’re fucking all night.” He growled playfully with a cocky look in his eyes.

           She couldn’t help but smile and bring his lips back to hers. He could be such a prick sometimes but he was endearing in his own way. Keeping him at a distance was tough even if she was pissed at him. The week had been just as difficult and long as it had been for him.

           There was a sharp knock on the door to interrupt the shared fantasy of their honeymoon. Alfie reluctantly pulled away, a grumpy frown now gracing his face. “Of course, can't get a fucking break.” He muttered. “Oi, I’m busy, fuck off!” He shouted at the person on the other side of the door. Thinking that was that, he went back to Louise.

           “Sir, it’s important!” Ollie knocked again to emphasize his point.

           “Fucking hell.”

           Louise stood up, moving past Alfie to unlock the office door and let the assistant in. “Hello, Ollie.” She greeted.

           He nodded as she let him in. “Hello, Louise. Uh, sir.” He turned to Alfie. “A message from Luca Changretta just arrived.”

           Ice-cold water doused the situation in an instant. Reality returned and the couple was reminded, yet again, the sort of life they lived. Louise looked to Alfie for answers but he merely gave a grim nod.

           “What’d he want?”

           “Well, nothing specific yet.” The young man answered and handed his boss the letter. “But he’s coming over from America soon.”

           He scanned the letter. “He’ll be wanting allies in London.” He surmised. “Good planner, ain’t he? Definitely done his research.”

           “Would Sabini help him?” Louise wondered aloud.

           “’Course, they’re all fucking wops, aren’t they? Think they’ll get along just fine.” Alfie muttered in reply.

           “Maybe you should see what the Shelbys are doing before you make any rash decisions.” She suggested calmly. It was best to step out in front of Alfie before he let his agitation answer any inquiries.

           Ollie fidgeted beside her. “Well, that’s the other thing.” He further opened up the situation with more news.

           “What?” Alfie asked gruffly. “What else could there fucking be?” He tossed the letter onto his desk.

           “Michael and Polly Grey, along with John and Arthur were arrested charged with murder.” He answered.

           Louise frowned, her forehead wrinkled with confusion. “Not Tommy?”

           Ollie simply shook his head. “No, he’s still a free man.”

           Alfie let out a bitter laugh. “That fucking mad man. Really, the fucking gypsy’s lost it, hasn’t he? I’m telling ya, s’that head injury of his. Docs must’ve let some screws go loose when they were trying to fucking put him back together.” He walked around his desk to sit.

           “What do you mean?” His fiancee asked.

           “He let the police arrest his own family.” He told her with a shrug and crossed his arms over chest.

           “He wouldn’t do that.”

           “’Course he fucking would. Think about it, Lou, if the police really had all this information then they would’ve nicked Tommy first. He had something to do with it, I’d bet a lot of money on that.”

           “How would he even benefit from doing something like that?” She argued. It seemed preposterous that a man would allow his family to be charged with such heinous crimes.

           Alfie simply shrugged and shook his head. In all honesty, he couldn’t answer her. “Right, thank you, Ollie.” He waved his assistant off. “Let me know if you hear anything else.”

           “Yes, sir.”

           Louise sat down across the desk from her fiancee. “What do you think you should do?” She asked candidly. It was the first test of Alfie’s commitment to his promise of being honest with her.

           He mindlessly moved things around his desk to preoccupy himself. “Lay low for the time being. Keep an ear to the wind, eh? I’ll see if I can get a hold of Tommy, see what he’s up to.”

           “Alright.” She nodded. It was a relief that he didn’t just immediately shoot her down and tell her not to worry about it. “And you’ll let me know if that plan changes?”

           “I told you I would. But,” He looked up and rested his elbows on the desk. “If I need you to go somewhere else, for any reason, you won’t fight me, yeah?”

           She muddled over the clause and decided it would give him a peace of mind. “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           The world was going to know that Alfie Solomons was marrying the love of his life. In fact, it was becoming a bit of gossip around London. Big, scary Alfie was betrothed to a quiet girl. And not just any girl, the daughter who fell from aristocratic grace. A woman who was rumored to have killed a man.

           Strange indeed.

           Still, he turned a deaf ear to any rumors. He was too busy with his own ventures. Everything was up to Louise as far as the wedding. She could have it however she wanted. But, Alfie had a plan of his own that he thought could help her decide the location of their nuptials.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

           “Alfie, honestly is this really necessary?” Louise was in the car beside him and she was blindfolded. She had been for the entire trip.

           “Well, it wouldn't be any fun if you knew where we were going, Lou. M’beginning to think you don’t fucking know what a surprise is meant to be.” He teased.

           She blindly landed an elbow to his upper arm. “Cheeky boy.”

           He snickered. “Won’t be too much longer, love. I assure you, it’s worth the trouble.” He promised and grasped her hand in his. He was thrilled to see her reaction to his big reveal.

           True to his word, they arrived shortly after. The car stopped at the end of a gravel drive. Alfie helped Louise out. She inhaled the clean air and basked in the early spring sun. They weren’t at Margate because there was no hint of sea salt in the breeze. Instead, she could detect the scent of grass and roses mixed with lavender.

           “Well, we’re not in the city anymore.” She held his hand as he guided her forward a few steps.

           “Far from it.” He confirmed. “You ready?” He asked just to delay the suspense a little bit longer.

           She grinned and nodded eagerly. “I think you’ve kept me waiting long enough.”

           He agreed by slipping off the blindfold.

           Louise’s lips parted in utter shock when she saw where they had traveled.

           The Barnes estate, Inglewood, which had been in the family for generations. But Louise hadn’t stepped foot on the grounds since she was eighteen. The last time she’d been there, she snuck out the back entrance and ran through the gardens. The moon had lit her path through the darkness. She circled around the manor with a bag in hand. Daniel was waiting for her, ready to help her escape. Her teenage brain had been so full of adrenaline and excitement, she couldn’t see how utterly delusional she was being.

           Now she stood there a decade later in the bright afternoon. Tears formed in her eyes as she took in the home she’d missed for so long. The large windows allowed in all of the morning light as the sun rose. The stones that had remained there for decades and decades, seeing the birth and death of the Barnes’s. Now she was the only one left. Yet she almost expected her parents to open the door and welcome her back home. They would embrace her and tell her how much they’d missed her during her time away. The doors remained closed, no one was inside.

           Alfie let her process the surprise before he stepped in. “It’s yours now, love.” He murmured and wrapped an arm around her waist.

           Her head turned, a tear slipping down her cheek. “What?” Her voice was weak with disbelief.

           “I bought it for you. It’s yours.” His smile was as warm as the spring day. The countryside sun wore off his rough appearance. He appeared softer in the light and much, much happier.

           Louise gasped tearfully and hugged him tightly. “No, it’s ours.”

           She entered her home and found it hadn’t changed at all since she’d left. Even the portraits remained in their usual spots in the foyer. A large portrait of her parents greeted them. Her mother, an elegant beauty with dark red hair and emerald green eyes. Donned in one of her favorite navy blue gowns, a diamond necklace adorned her neck. Her husband affectionately touched his wife’s hand, a proud look matching his confident posture. His hazel eyes were full of warmth despite his elite appearance.

           Louise was overwhelmed with emotions as she walked over to the portrait. Her fingers touched the edge of the original gilded frame. She swallowed and remembered how she often stared up at the portrait and wished she could be just as beautiful and in love as her parents were. She turned and saw Alfie patiently waiting behind her.

           “You alright, love?” He asked sympathetically.

           She nodded despite the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I’m happy I am…I just…I wish I’d come home sooner. Wish I could’ve said goodbye to them.”

           He nodded and walked over to embrace her again. “I know. I’m sorry, Lou.” He knew what it was like to lose a parent without even having the chance to be there for them. He would’ve given anything to be beside his mother, holding her hand to comfort her as she lived her final moments. It would be something they had to live with for the rest of their lives.

           After a quick tour through some of the many rooms of Inglewood, Alfie and Louise walked outside. There was an overgrown garden that gave way to a huge lawn. To the left of the house were the stables and more pastures along with forested trails for riding.

           “Well, it needs some work but figure we could have our wedding here,” Alfie suggested. They walked arm in arm across the patio. "Sometime in the summer when it's warmest?"

           Louise dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief again and nodded. “I think that would be lovely.” She agreed. “Something small, we can hold the reception inside.”

           “Posh event for my Surrey girl.” He smiled and kissed her temple.

           “Alfie, you’ve given me so much.” Louise looked up at him. Her brow wrinkled in concern. “I’m afraid I haven’t given you enough in return.”

           “Oh, Lou, you have no fucking idea how much you’ve given me.” He hugged her close. “Nothing I can give you will even come close to the happiness you’ve brought me.”    

Permanent Tag: @sansajonsastark​ @giftofdreams​

Tag list: @vehement-care​ @kimmietea​ @eleventhdoctorsangel​ @fire-treasure-iii​

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

[petersshirts]

Doubts | Bucky Barnes

summary: when doubts start to fill your mind, bucky is there for you

warnings: crying

words: 1,7 k

A/N: Well, I know I know, I’M BACK!! (hopefully for good :)) this is a little thing I’ve written, hoping you all like this! as always, feedback is greatly appreciated! xx I wrote this to get over the pain that is Avengers endgame, if anybody wanna come to talk to me about it, hit me up!

The rain was pouring down outside while you stared at your computer screen, trying to find the right words to say. It had been nearly month since writer block hit you and since then, there hadn’t been one single word that you wrote down. And that wasn’t a good thing when you were an author who depended on their own words.

You sighed and hid your face in your hands, trying to find any ideas in your mind. But there were absolutely none. Not even a dialogue. Nothing.

For the past month, you had felt completely lost - normally, you were writing a few pages a day for your book idea but when you finally finished your first ever book, your brain was completely empty. And you felt like you were going completely insane. There was only one person that could tell you that everything would be fine.

„Hey, Doll, you alright?“ You looked up t the voice of your fiancee, a steaming mug in his hand and a worried smile on his lips. You tried to smile at him, trying to tell him that everything was fine but before you knew it, tears started to run down your face. Bucky frowned and put the mug on the table before lowering himself down in front of you and grabbed your face softly. He caressed your cheek, just watching you cry, knowing that you needed to let it out all out before you could tell him what was going on.

After five minutes, the tears finally stopped and you could look Bucky in the eyes. He just watched you carefully - he had never been someone that pushed you when things got rough. He knew that you were quite sensitive in situations like these.

„I’m a bad writer.“ Buckys’ eyes widened when he heard those words coming out of your mouth. You just stared at the ground, feeling completely worthless. Bucky grabbed your hand to get your attention and you slowly looked up, knowing that he had a completely different opinion.

„Don’t ever say that. You’re a fantastic writer, I love your work.“ His voice was steady and sure because Bucky was telling the truth - he loved reading everything you wrote, even if it was just a little poem you wrote in two minutes. Your words always seemed to get him.

But you just shook your head, knowing that he would say that. But he didn’t know what was going on in your mind - for the last few weeks, you didn’t tell him about your writers’ block. Bucky had been really busy with work at the Avengers tower and missions all around the world. He was always exhausted when he came home and you didn’t want to put another burden on him.

Suddenly, Bucky lifted you up and carried you into your shared living room to sit you down onto the couch. He grabbed a blanket and sat down right next to you, the worried look still evident.

„Tell me what’s wrong.“ And when he talked in that voice, you just couldn’t say no. So you told him about your struggle with finding any ideas to start another story. You told him about all the restless nights where you just couldn’t sleep because you wanted to find an idea, but there was just nothing. Bucky just listened and tried to understand your side. He hated it when you were upset - it always made him feel completely helpless.

After ten minutes, you stopped talking. And even though you should feel better by talking about your feelings, it felt even worse. It was like you were in a big black hole and there was absolutely no way out.

„Honey, don’t worry about it.“ Buckys’ voice brought you out of your trance and you looked up to your boyfriend who smiled at you. „It’s completely normal to stop sometimes. Your brain needs a pause from all this thinking and I promise you that after that, it will be back on track. You just need to get out of this room for a few days and do something completely different. And I have an idea.“ You raised an eyebrow, not sure what your fiancee meant.

But Bucky just jumped up and walked back to your bedroom without comment. You just waited there, too worn out to follow him. A few minutes later, Bucky came back with a bag in his hand and a big smile on his lips. He tossed you his leather jacket you loved so much and walked to the door to get his shoes.

You just followed him like a lost dog, completely confused. Bucky locked the door behind you and grabbed your hand to lead you to his motorbike. You had never really liked the loud engine, but the glow in Buckys’ eyes told you how much he loved to drive it, so you didn’t say anything about it.

The rain had finally stopped but there was a chill in the air. Bucky closed your jacket and kissed your nose softly before he helped you on the bike. The loud roaring of the motor filled the air and you laid your head on Buckys’ back and closed your eyes.

Your head was still screaming at you to head back to your laptop and write something down, but you knew that Bucky was right. The longer you sat in front of that screen, the more frustrated you would get. And there was no inspiration coming from just watching Youtube Videos or something else. You needed to find a place to get lost with your favourite man.

While Bucky was driving, you fell asleep and only awoke when your pillow moved, indicating that you must be at your destination.

„Boo, wake up.“ Buckys’ voice was close to your ear and you just mumbled something, not ready to return to the real world just yet. But you opened your eyes after a few seconds, only to look right into Buckys’ blue eyes. Damn, how did you get so lucky?

Your fiancee helped you climb down from the bike and turned, trying to find out where you were. You stood in front of a small white house that looked old but well taken care of and you could hear the crash of the waves in the distance.

This was the complete opposite of Brooklyn - there were no people o the street talking to their phones or honking from all the cars stuck in traffic. It was just - calm. Bucky just watched you taking it all in, hoping that this was exactly what you needed.

„Do you wanna go in?“ Bucky looked at the house and you just nodded, wishing that you could stay here for a very long time. Bucky took your hand and opened the door with a key you had never seen before. Who did this belong to??

„Why do you have the keys to such a beautiful house?“ Bucky turned back towards you with a grin. „Because it’s mine.“ And with that, he opened the door and let you in. The house was as beautiful from the inside as from the outside. Everything was clean and very simple but still modern. Everything was beach-themed and when you reached the living room, you sucked in a breath at the view.

The ocean was only around 50 metres away and even in the house, you could hear the soft sounds of the ocean. You just stared at the view, your mouth wide open. How could Bucky afford something like this? And why did he never mention that he owned a beach house??

You walked back to the bedroom where you found Bucky with a picture frame in his hand. He didn’t even flinch when you came up beside him to see him looking at a picture from his family. He had shown you a few pictures before so you immediately recognised his beautiful mother and his handsome father. And then, there was a little James Barnes and his sister, holding hands and grinning into the camera. And in the background, there was the house you were standing in. You finally understood.

„This house belonged to your family?“ It was hard not to start crying, knowing how much this meant to him. Bucky just nodded and put the frame back next to the bed and turned around towards you.

„My father never sold the house and when I finally found the address and came here, I hired a company to renovate it. But before now, I never really had a chance or reason to come here but with you being so sad, I had to show you this place.“ You grabbed his hands and squeezed, showing him that you knew how he felt.

„It so beautiful, Bucky. I can’t wait to spend my summers here with you. And maybe with some kids.“ The beaming smile he sent you told you everything you needed to know. That this was only one of many many times you would come to the beach house and just enjoy the time away from the city.

For the rest of the day, the two of you bought some food from the local supermarket and walked down the beach, the only sounds the waves crashing and wind in your ears. Unusual happiness had settled in your stomach, causing you to smile all day. It had been such a long time since you didn’t think about your work and just the moment you were in, right here with Bucky.

And when you laid down in bed that night, Bucky showering you in loving kisses, you knew that you had chosen the right guy. The guy who would do anything for you in doubt, and you would just do the same.

And while you slept in Buckys’ embrace, new ideas started to fill your mind.

Please let me know what you think!

Permanent Taglist and some mutuals:

@smexylemony // @ive-got-more-wit // @lou-la-lou // @loxbbg // @seanna313 // @underoos-shield // @hollandfieldblurbs // @supernatural-strangerthings-1980 // @ixchel-9275 // @thejourneyneverendsx // @sideeffectsofyou // @teenwolfbitches2 // @mywinterwolf // @alex--awesome--22 // @wronglanemendes // @keithseabrook27 // @tomshufflepuff // @awkwardfangirl2014 // @embrace-themagic // @ophcelia // @nedthegay // @peterpumpkinparker  // @twilightparker // @h-osterfield  //  @holland-peters // @fratboievans // @spiderrrling // @hufflebucky // @hollandroos // @naturallytom // @starksparker

[lildevyl]

Septicscape, Chapter Two: The Corruption is Spreading

Chapter Two! For Septicscape!

Chapter: 1

Summary:  The Corruption is spreading and it is now in Jackieboy Man’s world.  Two students and the Director of the Music and Arts Program from Ego University went missing!  Then they came back but not acting like themselves.

Warnings:  Mentions of kidnapping, static, blood and there is Zalgo Text in here for anyone that might be a little uncomfortable with that.

Tagging: @septic-dr-schneep, @egopocalypse, @starlightxnightmare, @fear-is-nameless, @huffletrax, @burnbrightfadefast, @jackjames-exe, @dolphintreasureart, @dezzydynamite, @power-of-friends-games, @epicfangirl01, @a-humble-narcissus, @thevampireauthoress, @the-scribe-watches, @d-structive, @kisstheashes, @chaoticcrimsonrose, @julywinters, @run-stray-wolf, @thefirsttobreak, @therealjacksepticeye, @weirdmixofweirdness

If want to be tagged or guest star in one of my stories please let me know!

Guest Staring:  River Bayou @egopocalypse, Lou Huffle @huffletrax, Erin Treasures @dolphintreasureart.  Thank You ghouls and fiends for wanting to guest star!  This has been absolutely fun to write!!!!

(The Deep Lab)

"I think he's coming around.  Henrik?  C'mon, wake up.  Come back to us."

Henrik's eyes fluttered open, then he had to shut them quickly shut them.  It's too bright!  Henrik shifted his head and his eyes were able to finally focus.  "Ch-Chase?"  Henrik choked out.

Now, he remembered.  The "Corruption."  But how was he here?  Did Chase find a way to save him?  All Henrik wanted to do was to hug Chase and cry.  He never wanted to leave Chase, make him feel like he abandoned him but Henrik didn't have a choice.

"Yeah, Henrik.  It's me," Chase softly said.  "And I'm not alone."  Chase nodded.

Henrik's eyes followed and he couldn't believe it.  "Jack?"

"Yeah, it's me," Jack smiled.  Henrik looked around where they were.   He was on one of the beds in his Lab.  "I think some explaining is in order

============================================

(Several Pots of Coffee and Tea Later)

"And that's when we dragged you back here.  Making sure to keep an eye on you."  Jack finished explaining.  Then took a huge sip of the last remains of his coffee.

"But  - but how did you combat the Corruption?"  Henrik inquired completely baffled.

"I don't know," Jack answered honestly.  "One minute we were in the room trying to bring you back.  Then the next moment, I saw  .   .   .   The illusion?  And was telling you that you are a good doctor.  Then it felt like - the Corruption  .  .  .  Just - let go?"  Jack shrugged.  "I don't know how else to explain it."

"The Creator's Power,"  Henrik answered more to himself than the others.  Jack and Chase shared a look, hoping the other knew what Henrik meant.

"When you, Jack, our Creator.  Create an Ego, give us a name, a backstory and let the Community know about us.  You give us life.  Creating a spark from you and your Creativity, you give us a soul.  We live as  long as you actively support us through any means."  Henrik explained upon seeing their confused faces. "Fan art, theories, fanfictions, headcanons, fan-made games, edits, cosplay, photos.  Even just watching our videos, help.  This is what's called the Creator's Power."

"Wow.  I had no idea," Jack said in awe.

"Yes, but if you chose to not make an Ego "Canon" but the Community likes them and supports them enough.  Or if members of the Community "invents" an Ego and that Ego gets enough support from the Community.  Then they become what's known as a "Fan Creation."  Henrik concluded.

"My fans are super amazing."  Jack smiled fondly.

"Yeah, they are, Jack.  They are."  Henrik agreed.  "But getting back to the point at hand," Henrik continued.  "The others that you see in the different worlds of the Mindscape.  Are in fact, ordinary people.  Friends, family, people you interact with on a daily bases, even different fans you've met or favorite characters from certain games.  They live, fall in love then eventually die.  They don't live as long as we do here."

"What happens if you're forgotten?"  Jack asked.

"Then we die.  Without you and the Community, we cease to exist.  Our souls would shatter and then we would fade.  And our part of the Mindscape would crumble as well," Henrik solemnly explained.

"B-but Chase said his world crumbled but he's still here!"  Jack protested.  This made absolutely no sense.  The Community and Jack still remembered Chase, so why did his world collapsed?

"To that, I have no explanation," Henrik admitted.

Then Jack remembered something.  "You said that the other Egos are here, right?"  Jack asked turning to Chase.  Getting a nod from Chase, Jack continued.  "I think we better check on the others, then."

"You think they could be affected as well?"

"They might be.  You were affected pretty badly in one of the vlogs.  You've mentioned the Corruption spreading.  Even affecting many of your patients."

Henrik nodded, with a bit of guilty look.  He hasn't spoken to either of the other Egos since the Corruption began.

"I think we need to check on them.  To make sure that they're okay."  Jack stated mistaking the look for Henrik being worried.

"Septic City is the closest one to us.  We could check on Jackieboy Man.  If anybody could help in beating this Corruption.  Then it's our residential Super Hero."  Chase added.

"That's a good place to start."  Henrik agreed.  "Plus, the University has a massive Library here in the Mindscape.  I could do some more research to try to combat this."

=============================

(Septic City)

"Huh, so, this is Septic City?  Beautiful view."  Jack stated seeing the City for the first time.

"It's quite beautiful," Henrik commented.  "I'm not sure where we might find Jackie but if we head to the University.  We should either run into him or at least run into someone who might know where he could be."

================================

(Ego University, Lou Huffle)

Lou Huffle, a senior here at Ego University sat at her desk in the Art Classroom, tapping her pencil.  Glaring at their mortal enemy that mockingly stared back at her.  Creator's Block had decided to strike and strike hard.  Now, here she was staring at a blank page in her sketchbook with a six-week deadline to get her, newest issue of her comic series out.  With a frustrated sigh, Lou slammed her sketchbook closed and stuffed it into her book bag and headed out.  Her next class started in an hour but she wanted to grab some lunch first.

Halfway down the hall, Lou began to notice something strange.  It's the middle of the week, this hallway should be crowded with shoulder to shoulder of people. And yet it’s completely deserted.  Where was everyone?  Lou had a bad feeling about this, quickening her pace she nearly sprinted to the end of the hall.  She pushed on the doors but nothing happened.  She tried again and nothing happened.  What?  Was this thing stuck or something?  No, it was locked, but why?

Lou suddenly had a feeling that she wasn't alone.  Like someone was watching her.  The hairs on the back of her neck stood straight up.  A rattling breath could be heard right behind her.  Grabbing her sketchbook and with the trigger word to bring her creation to life if need be, on the tip of her tongue.  Lou cautiously turned around.  There standing just a couple of feet away from her.  Stood a girl with stringy sprayed painted hair, button eyes, a faded patched shirt, a patch jacket, ripped jeans and a stitched mouth.  Her buttons eyes appeared as if they were bleeding.

The last thing Lou remembered hearing through the muffled whispering and before she succumbed to the darkness was   .   .   .

"Lou!  Lou!  You need to wake up!  This is Jackie!"

================================

(Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery)

Erin stood in her Art Gallery finishing up on her latest piece, smiling and humming "All the Way."  She was going to display it for everyone to see before she sent into the Power of Friend Games.  They're working on a fan-made game of one her favorite YouTubers, JackSepiceye.  She wanted to finish this so she could send it in for the possibility of it being in the game.  Erin loved this, she loved doing fan art and being able to express herself like this.  It brought so much of joy to her.  And seeing everyone's reaction when she uploads her pieces and even taking some commissions.  It truly did fill her heart with pride and joy.

Even if her art wasn't in it, seeing all the fan art, the story arch, and seeing all the creativity the Community did into their projects.  Erin's smile broaden even more. She went to dip her brush into the paint once more, she stopped upon seeing a couple of red drops on her hand.  It wasn't paint.  Then she felt something trickled down her chin and landed on her hand.  Putting her paints and brushes down, Erin put her hand to her face and pulled back.  Fresh blood.  Quickly going to the bathroom to see what was going on, Erin realized that she somehow had gotten a random nosebleed out-of-the-blue.  That was weird. Cleaning up and grabbing the first aid kit, Erin saw that the nosebleed had stopped.  She still didn't know what could have caused it.

Going back to the Art Gallery, Erin began to rub her eyes.  There was some sort of discomfort building up all of sudden.  Maybe now, was a perfect time to take a break?  When Erin returned to her painting and was about to start putting everything away.  She taught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and had to do a double take.  Her eyes.  Her eyes were button-like!  One was light brown on the outside but black on the inside.  The other one was black on the outside but light brown on the inside.  And they began to bleed red and black tears down her face.  The last thing she remembered before the darkness took over was   .   .   .

"Erin!  Erin!  You need to fight this!  It's me!  It's Jackie!"

=======================

(Ego University, River Bayou)

River sat in the nearly empty Computer Lab staring at a blank computer screen and a blinking cursor.  She shut her laptop closed with a more force than necessary (she'll apologize later) and stuffed it into her case.  Dejectedly, River pulled out a letter that was the entire cause of her foul mood.  She should have just chucked the damn thing in first trash bin she came across and went on her way.  But instead, she kept the blasted thing as if rereading what it said would numb the pain.  Or would make the cursed wording more bearable.  The letter was from the number one publisher in Egopolcalpse and the cause of her distress.

Miss Bayou,

Thank you for considering us as your publisher.  We received your manuscript and looked it over.  We regret to inform you that Kingdom Come is not what we're looking for right now.  We decided to go with another candidate instead. If you have another story you will like us to take a look at for the possibility of publishing.  Please send in your manuscript and we will take a look at it.  Good Luck and thank you again.

Angel Mercury.

Scowling, River crumpled up the letter and with a low growl, and threw it in the nearest trash bin.  Not what they were looking for?!  Did they know how much time and effort she put into that story?!  What more do they want?!  Sighing heavily, River sank back down into her chair and lazily looked around the Computer Lab for a distraction.  Right now, she honestly didn't care if she was late to class.

One of the games a student was playing caught her eye.  She didn't recognize the student though. Stringy sprayed painted hair, faded patch shirt, patch jacket, ripped jeans and what appeared to be sunglasses that she was wearing.  River came over and sat next to the new student.  River saw that it looked like she might have been crying earlier.  If the running mascara was anything to by.

*Do you want to try it?*  She asked.

"If you don't mind," River answered looking at the game case.

Puppets: A JackSepticeye Game by Power of Friend Games and Sarcastic Pasta Games.  The developers of Septicscape and the Boss.  Private Investigator Chase Brody and his partner Detective Jackie McLoughlin are hired by Marvin the Magnificent to help find his long lost brother, Doctor Henrik von Schneeplestein.  Who's believe to be the Puppet Master's lasted victim.  You must investigate various characters, plow through multiple and sometimes random battles, solve many cryptic puzzles to decode the where about of Henrik.  But beware.  For the Puppet Mater is  à͡l҉w͟͡a̸̢y̴͠s ̵̨wa̵t̵c̴͝h̕҉i͜n̶͝g̶  and will make you his next puppet if you not careful.

Smiling ear to ear, and her eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree, River dove straight into the game.  She was already getting into this game; playing as, Chase and/or Jackie (you can switch between the two).  River went to different parts of the city.  Interviewing different people, the player (River) trying to figure out who was lying, who was telling the truth, who could be working for the “Puppet Master.”  Every now and then River had to stop and massage her wrists and arms and sometimes she even had to rub her legs.

'Strange?  Maybe I've been playing and sitting for too long?  But this game! Man, I have to know what happens!'  River thought to herself.

She continued to play until what appeared to be the final puzzle of the game. She had to decode a message of some sort.  Ha!  Easy!  River decoded it in nothing flat.  Then something strange happened.  The computer screen went blank.  Completely and utterly dark.  After about ten seconds, the computer screen flickered back on but it was nothing but a black and green static.

"Um," River took an unsteady breath.  "Do - do you know if I might have, accidentally broke the game?"  River turned to the student and nearly knocked over her chair.  She - the student - she has   .   .   .  Button eyes!  And the button eyes began to bleed a blood-like ink.  She tilted her head and smiled not even breaking her stitched mouth.

River then felt a tug on her wrists.  She looked down and realized, there were acid green strings attached to her wrists and ankles.  River tried to run for it but the strings yanked her and she fell face first on the floor.  Digging her fingernails into the carpet as the strings began to drag her.  She grabbed a hold of a leg of one of the tables.  Then one of the love seats in the Computer Lab.  And finally the coffee table itself.  

"HELP!!!"  River screamed.  And to her horror, there was no one else but the Living Rag Doll, smiling at her.  "Jackie!!!"  The last thing River heard before she was completely sucked into the computer was   .   .   .

"M̶̧͝y ͟͝Fa̶̢v̵̛o̕̕ri̡t͘e͘͝ ̛L̸҉o͠y̴͝a̶͘l͏̷̢ ̵͜P̷̕úp̸͠pe̶̸̛t̀"

=============================

(Ego University)

Jackie didn't know what to do.  There was something very strange going on here at the University.  Two students that Jackie had classes with, Lou Huffle and River Bayou, went missing yesterday.  Lou was a very hard working student, even if it wasn't her best subject.  She always strive to do her best.  So, for Lou to just "skip" her classes?  It just didn't make any sense.

Then, for Lou to just materialize out of nowhere the next day, and act as if nothing happened?  That was not like Lou at all!  Not only that but Lou has been obsessing and working at her desk in the Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery none stop.  She's been working on her brand new comic:  Nox.  Never taking a break except to eat and/or to get more art supplies.

And the strangeness doesn't stop there.  Erin Treasures, the Director of the Music and Arts Programs and the owner of the Dolphin Treasures Art Gallery, went missing yesterday as well.  No one had seen or heard from her all day yesterday.  That wasn't like her.  Erin, no matter how busy she might, always took some time out to help someone.  So, for her to not be heard from or no one was able to find her yesterday?  Yeah, something was up!

What made it worst though, was like Lou.  Erin showed up out of the blue, the next day, like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  Obsessing about making the perfect painting and working none stop, except to eat or get more art supplies.  She's painted about four different Septic Ego portraits, stop to look at them, and then she carelessly chucks them into a storage room.  Constantly saying, "No, it's not right.  It's not perfect.  I need to make the perfect painting.  It needs to be perfect!"

Jackie needed help.  He decided to call Henrik and Chase and see if they could help out.  Jackie felt a little guilty about doing this, he hasn't spoken to Chase since his world collapsed.  And he hasn't spoken to Henrik since he began to research what was causing the Corruption.  Taking a deep breath and taking his cellphone out, Jackie dialed the number he knew by heart.  "Henrik?  It's Jackie. I need your help.  Can you and Chase come by the University?  I think it's spreading."

Dread was beginning to seep it's way into the pit of Jackie's stomach.  River Bayou was still missing.

==============================

(The Ego Cafe)

Tapping his fingers against his leg, Jackie impatiently waited for Chase and Henrik to arrive as the minutes slowly ticked by.  Huffing a frustrated sigh for the umpteenth time.  Jackie began to pace, outside the Cafe.  The Cafe was on the campus and towards the right as you walk in.  Giving Jackie the perfect view of the Front Entrance.  Jackie knew that he was being illogical, he just called them like no more than ten minutes ago.  It wasn't like they could teleport or had super speed.  So, Jackie continued his illogical impatient pacing for the next half hour. He couldn't help it.  There was this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. Hopefully, Henrik could tell him something.  Speaking of which, there he is!

And was that, "Jack?"

"Hey Jackieboy," Jack greeted.

"Sshhh.  Keep it down," Jackie whispered looking around.  "I go by Jackson.  Or some people call me Jackie."

"Oh, sorry," Jack sheepishly apologized.

"It's okay.  Wait, Jack?  How did you get here?"  Jackie inquired.

"Do you have ninety minutes?  But seriously, I have no idea.  We're still trying to figure that out," Jack answered.

"Jackie?  You said that Corruption was spreading?"  Henrik asked getting to the topic of why they're here.

"Oh, right.  Let's grab a table and some lunch.  I'll explain everything," Jackie answered.

A couple of hours later, Jackie finished explaining what was going on.  "And that's why I called you.   Think the Corruption is spreading, Doc."

"I think you're right," Henrik confirmed.  "The Corruption could be spreading to your world, Jackie.  I thought I contained it but I guess not.  There's a way to beat the Corruption but I'm not sure on how to apply it."

"What about the Library?  You were using that for your research," Chase suggested.

"That's a good idea.  I could do some more research to see how to help," Henrik agreed.

"Well, the fastest way to do that is if we take a short cut through the Art Gallery." Jackie hesitated a bit, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say next.  "I was hoping Henrik, that maybe you could take a look for yourself.  See what's going on with Lou and Erin.  Maybe you could figure out how to combat this?"

"That is a good idea," Henrik commented.

"Alright, let's head on out guys," Jackie said sounding more confident then he felt.

===========================

(Dolphin Treasure Art Gallery)

Erin and Lou worked relentlessly at their projects.  Both of them suddenly stopped what they were doing.  The felt the tug on their strings and knew what it meant.  Lou Huffle would get the chance to show her brand new comic and have the perfect story arch.  Erin would be able to paint the perfect painting for she will have for new still life models to paint.  Both of them got ready for the Ultimate Art Show.

=====================

A/N:  Here are a couple of links that helped inspired this story and this chapter.

For those of you here on Tumblr that might not know.  @dolphintreasureart has a YouTube Channel!  Please go and check it out!  It has her doing what I call speed painting and also doing Let’s Plays of various Indie Games and Fan-Made Games

Septicscape Play List: here

This is the post that helped inspire the scene with River:  here

[stardusttkachuk-main]

New Boy

Title: New Boy

Pairing: Jack x Reader

Word Count: 1225

Warnings: fluff

Prompt: How The Grinch Stole Christmas

Summary: The Winchester’s come to visit Jody, and bring along a friend. Jody is sure the girls will appreciate him, especially Y/N, as they have something in common. But, she sends him up at the exact wrong time and Y/N is left embarrassed and dreading an entire night with him.

This is Day 13 of 25 Days of Christmas. Check out the full masterlist here!

The Winchester boys were on their way to Jody’s halfway house for hunter girls (as you liked to describe it.) They figured it was time to pay Jody, and everyone else, a visit and her place was on the way back from their last hunt.

You’d only met Sam and Dean once, which is how you met and began living with Jody. That was a year and a half ago after your father had had his eyes burned out by angels and you were next. It was all because your dad was the son of a Nephilim and you and he had “angel grace” running through you. You didn’t believe a damn word, but you also didn’t know angels existed until that day.

“Girls! Company.” Jody yelled from the bottom of the staircase. Alex and Patience were already down the stairs before you even left your room. Claire stopped by the window, looking back at you.

“What if we just jumped out the window now. Think they’d notice?”

You laughed. It was nice to have a roommate like Claire because she understood the whole hating being here thing. You shook your head, “I’m sure they would. God if we aren’t down there in two minutes you know she’ll come up.” You pulled a pair of jeans out from your drawer, knowing fully well that Jody would make a comment about your shorts if you walked down like that.

You didn’t bother closing the door, you rarely did in the house full of girls and it was a habit not to. That was your mistake because when you had gotten down to your underwear and were slipping your feet through the pant legs when some boy appeared in the doorway.

“I’m uh… sorry,” he said slowly, his eyes lingering on your body.

You quickly pulled your jeans up, fiddling with the button while he just stood there and watched. “Well don’t stare!” you yelled, “Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Jack. Jody asked me to come get you two. Claire and Y/N, right?”

Claire laughed, resting her hand on Jack’s shoulder as she was leaving. “Next time you see a girl half naked, compliment her if you’re gonna stare.”

“You have nice legs,” Jack smiled, quite proud of himself until your grumble confused him. You walked by without a word, trotting down the stairs with heavy feet to put as much distance between yourself and this kid as possible.

“Nice of you to join us,” Jody smiled. “You met Jack?”

“Oh yeah. She met Jack alright,” Claire smirked, nudging your shoulder with hers.

Your cheeks reddened and you quickly sat down, Claire following and sitting beside you. Of course, Jack sat across from you, and you wanted nothing more than to slink back to your room and hide under the covers until everyone left.

“You know, Y/N… Jack’s a Nephilim,” Jody mentioned, pointing her fork in his direction.

“Is that why you sent him up to my room?” You asked, still refusing to make eye contact with the man across from you.

“No. I’m just saying, maybe you two should talk.”

“Being an offspring of an offspring of a Nephilim does not make me a Nephilim.”

“You’re related to a Nephilim?” Jack asked curiously, poking his head up to look at you.

You sighed and finally made eye contact with him. “My grandpa was. I don’t have powers though.”

“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “Have you tried exploring if you do or not?”

“No, and I’m not going to. If my dad wanted me to know about Nephilims or their powers, I’m sure he would’ve taught me himself. I didn’t even know angels existed until six of ‘em came knocking at my door.”

“Well, they believed your dad had some powers, so why wouldn’t you?”

“Because I don’t, okay? Jody, can I be excused?” You pushed your plate away from yourself, having finished your dinner long before this conversation started.

“Sure. Wash your plate off.”

You nodded and got up, taking your plate and cup to the sink and rinsing both off, happy now to be away from the table.

You were back in your room now, phone in hand, when Jody knocked and leaned on the doorframe.

“So he saw you in your underwear,” she acknowledged.

“I didn’t think you’d send some teenage boy to wander around your house,” you grumbled.

“Dean suggested I send him. He’s just a little bit older than you are and they’re trying to get him some friends.”

“I thought this was a girls home,” you teased.

“Funny. We weren’t trying to reopen an old wound out there.”

“I know… I just don’t know him.”

“He said he liked your legs,” Jody laughed this time, unable to hold it back.

Your blush returned. “Well, I don’t need some random kid who’s seen me in my underwear and likes my legs knowing all about my past. He has to take me on a date first.”

Jody smiled, “We’re watching a movie downstairs if you want to join.”

“Let me guess, Jack’s on the loveseat by himself.” Jody couldn’t help the smirk and you rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the bed and following her down.

“What are we watching?” You asked, finding the open spot next to Jack and sitting beside him.

“How the Grinch Stole Christmas,” Dean said, throwing a hand up to the tv. Sure enough, Cindy Lou Who was wrapped in Christmas paper with a bow on top.

“Netflix said it was popular,” Jack smiled, “I’d never heard of it before.”

You nodded, relaxing into the couch. “It’s a classic. But the animated version is better.”

“Well duh. It’s the original,” Dean pointed out. “Now hush.”

When the movie was over, you excused yourself to your room again, following Claire as you both needed to get ready for bed. The bad thing about the boys visiting on a weekday was you still had classes in the morning. Jody was doing a great job of keeping you girls in line, and you admired her for her push for you to succeed.

You were making your bed when Jack appeared in the doorway again. “I’m sorry I saw you in your underwear,” he apologized.

You giggled and shook your head. “You know what, let me see you in yours and we’ll call it even.” Jack nodded, going for his belt without hesitation. “Jack!” He paused to look up. “I was kidding.”

“Oh.” He nodded and fixed his shirt. “We’re leaving. Jody told me to tell you to come say goodbye. And Dean wanted me to give you my number.” He almost questioned the last part, like he wasn’t sure if it was a normal thing or not.

Claire snorted from the other side of the room. “Yeah with each other's numbers, you two can trade underwear picks.”

“She’s kidding!” You added quickly. “We’ll be down in a second, you can give it to me then.”

“He’s cute!” Claire whispered when Jack was no longer in sight.

“And he’s your technical stepbrother, so he’s all mine.”

She rolled her eyes. “I didn’t want him anyway. I wanted you to know that he’s cute, I approve, and you should definitely bang him like a screen door in a hurricane.”

Your cheeks reddened again “C’mon… before she sends him up again.”

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[takadasaiko]

Fallen Series: Deals Struck

FFN II AO3

Summary: Pre-series. A few months after the Revenants are first resurrected, Josiah Earp comes into town.

                                                 Deals Struck

"You've looked better."

Robert offered a glare at the smirking man perched on a barstool next to the one he had just taken and motioned to the barkeep for what was quickly becoming his usual. "All I ask is that they let me have as close to peace as I can find here. Is that really too much?"

"For them? Absolutely. They're restless. Driven. Perhaps for a reason."

The whiskey slid across the bar and Robert shot Lou a questioning look. The other man smirked a little around his glass. "Don't tell me you didn't feel it. The shift. We all did. You're no better and you know it."

He'd felt something, he knew, but what it was he hadn't known. If Lou did or the smug bastard was just fishing for information, he couldn't be sure. He wasn't sure he trusted former - not so former, in all likelihood - con artist. He had caught a bullet from Wyatt when he had tried to squirm free of a trial. He hadn't made it to the edge of the town he had been in, and had woken up in Purgatory a handful of years later. He was a clever man, but so was Robert. An alliance did not mean he should trust him.

"I hope you have as good as you got," Lou chuckled, motioning to Robert's broken nose. "They're not going to stop coming, not now that they know what you can do."

His mind flashed to recent memories splattered with metal and Revenant blood. "The ones that jumped me will."

Lou grinned toothily. "See, and that's how we climb to the top."

"Is it we?" the blue eyed man asked, quirking one off-coloured eyebrow. There had been a handful of physical changes he had come across since he had been dragged back up from hell, the strange white patch in his beard and across the opposite eyebrow only two. It was the brand burned into his back that bothered him the most so far. Any time he used his new powers he had acquired from the curse, it burned deeply, like it was reminding him just who he was now in all of this.

"Of course it is," Lou answered cheerfully. "I have a few tricks up my sleeve."

Robert chuckled roughly into his glass. "I'm sure you do." The door on the other side of the bar opened and he glanced up to see who was coming in. It wasn't a large town and the faces quickly became familiar. He had a good idea which ones were local, which were Revenants that had popped up a few months earlier, and the rare traveller passing through. The man that entered he knew only at a distance. Barkley. Something Barkley, but he'd never actually bothered with his first name. He was Purgatory's sheriff and in so far over his head in the last few months that he might have drowned several times over.

He had a man with him, still on the younger side of thirty with wide, curious eyes that immediately took in every corner of the saloon. "Well, this place hasn't changed. This was always my father's first place to stop when we came into town." A familiar sort of smile crossed his lips. "I see nothing's slowed down here."

"Who's gonna care about a little town like Purgatory anyway? I ain't gonna be the one to try to stop 'em from drinkin'," Barkley laughed, looking around nervously even as he did. Eyes flashed red here and there around the saloon and Robert could almost feel the unease in the air. "How long you stayin' for, anyway?"

"I plan to put down roots here."

"You lookin' for a job?"

The young man's smile broadened a little. "Trying to offload yours?"

"Might be."

"You're staring."

Robert flinched at the voice close to his ear and he turned to see Lou grinning like a shark. "Just want to make sure no one does anything foolish."

His companion snorted at the statement. "Most of these idiots don't know what they're sensing, but I reckon you do. He looks like Wyatt Earp, doesn't he?"

Almost as if on cue the sheriff's visitor looked over, finding Robert staring. Their gazes locked for just a moment and he could feel the brand heating on his back. The Heir. Wyatt's son. He didn't even know the boy's name, but less than five minutes watching him laugh and joke with Barkley didn't give him any confidence that the other Revenants wouldn't tear him to pieces. Possibly right there at the very bar in which they all sat, and Robert wouldn't be able to do a damn thing about it. Not the way that things were right then.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. There was one thing he could do.

"Where're you going?" Lou asked, genuinely confused as Robert paid for his single drink and stood without finishing it.

"I don't have to watch it happen," he answered gruffly, rounding the bar towards the door and feeling the young Earp's eyes on him the whole way. He refused to meet them as he passed by, focused instead on the door. He wasn't sure exactly where he was heading, but he knew he had to get out of there.

The door shut behind him and he didn't hear anything for a long moment as he started down the street. He thought he was home free, of a sort, until he heard it open again behind him and an unfamiliar voice yelled out, "Robert!"

It was everything he could do not to turn. He didn't even flinch, but just kept walking. Less than a handful of people knew his real name in this town anymore, and he had no interest in encouraging the young Earp to call it out for all of Purgatory to hear.

Without warning he turned down an alley, finding it blessedly empty, and he decided he would cut around and back towards the woods at the outskirts of town where he had been camping. Alone. Which was how he handled much of his life these days.

Wyatt's son just wouldn't give up though. He quickened his pace, and Robert would have had to start jogging to lose him, so instead he turned on his heel, swiveling around and putting on a glare he tended to reserve for other Revenants that had decided to try their hand at besting the one they kept hearing about that could move metal. "Stop following me."

The young man stuttered to a stop, almost running straight into him. He straightened then, adjusting the hat he wore on his head, and instead of the fear that should have greeted Robert, the idiot Earp smiled. "It is you. I knew it was the moment I spotted you. Robert Svane."

"Ain't nobody in Purgatory by that name," the Revenant growled.

The Earp Heir blinked owlishly at him and Robert found himself staring into a set of eyes the exact same shade as Wyatt's had been. He looked for hints of Josephine in the boy, but fell just short with every feature. He was all Wyatt, young and brash and full of life. He felt his chest tighten at the thought and for a moment he wasn't sure if he was angry or hurt or just very, very lonely.

"I know it's you," Wyatt's son pressed, taking a step closer and Robert took one back. "I'm Josiah Earp. My father was Wyatt Earp. He had this old photo and he told me about you. When I was old enough he told me everything about Clootie and what you two did to stop him… what you did to help stop him. I've been to your grave."

The words didn't match his excitement and it left the older man feeling sick. He pushed it down, his voice cold and hard. "Then you know Robert Svane's long dead. Gotta gravestone to prove it."

"But you were killed by Peacemaker, so you're back."

"Is that what Wyatt told you would happen?" He was struggling now to keep his composure. He'd wondered if Wyatt knew what he'd done to him. Maybe that's why he had never come back. Guilt or judgement for what he would become. It was hard to say with him. All Robert knew was that he had died for the man, died to help clean up the mess he'd left in his wake, and Wyatt had never come back, no matter how many letters had promised that he would. He'd never even warned him. If it hadn't been for Constance Clootie - and he didn't miss that particular irony - Robert would have found out about the curse only when hell's flames tore at him.

"You're a Revenant, right? A demon. Father said-"

"If you know what I am you know what I can do to you."

"But you won't. You were my father's friend. His close friend. Does no one know?"

"And I'd like to keep it that way, so go. Get. You shouldn't have come to Purgatory to begin with."

"But I have to end the curse. It's my responsibility now. Look, I even have-"

Robert backpedaled at the site of Wyatt's gun pulled from Josiah's holster and the barrel glowed dangerously as it neared him. He could feel the burn of the brand on his back and the world tinged red around him. "Put that away," he snapped, pushing the barrel down and away from him with his powers. "You need to go."

"I have to stay. I promised him on his deathbed."

Robert snorted. So Wyatt had guilted his own son to his death. Wonderful. He shook his head and turned.

"Please, you were his friend. Won't you help me? I need help to end this curse."

"Only way to end it is to kill all seventy-seven that your dear ol' father put down with that thing, me included," Robert snarled. "No thank you. I already gave up my life once for Wyatt." He closed his eyes, frustration rolling through him like a storm brewing. Finally, he let them open again, and when he did he fixed a hard gaze on the young man. "We were friends once, and for that friendship I'll give you one piece of advice: They're gonna tear you to shreds here, boy. Get out of here before they can. You do what your daddy did and you cross that line and you never look back."

Josiah stood there in the alleyway looking like he'd been physically struck. He didn't answer and Robert didn't give him time to regain his composure. He'd take the advice or he'd get himself killed. If it was the latter, he didn't want to be there when it happened.

He slept in fits and starts, every little noise waking him. He hadn't been found in his latest hiding place where he'd pitched his tent, but that didn't mean that he'd be safe for long. They were bloodthirsty and had been more than before. Now he knew why. Josiah Earp was here and he was of age. The first Heir had appeared in Purgatory and even though the demons had been resurrected months before, now the curse could begin in full.

Half the time when he slept, he dreamt of fire and burning and hell. He woke swallowing his own screams, terror gripping him down to what was left of his tattered soul. Those same images pulled at him that night. He fought against it, but the sound of a twig under a boot had him flying off his thin pallet on the hard ground, ready for whatever fight was about to be forced on him. He was at the intruder's throat before he was really awake, his eyes burning and a snarl on his lips.

Josiah Earp let out a startled breath, his hands held up in a non-threatening manner. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just want to talk."

"Do you have a death wish?" Robert demanded, loosing his grip so suddenly that Josiah nearly fell.

He leaned back against the tree for support, his fingers rubbing at the place where his father's friend's hand had been wrapped around his throat just moments before. "No, I just needed to talk to you, and you obviously didn't want to talk in town."

"I didn't want to talk at all." He loosed what might have been a growl, low and frustrated, and moved to the simmering fire to kick dirt over it, smothering the last burning embers. He needed to pack up and move. Josiah would have led people to him, if the boy had meant to or not.

The young fool reached out, catching Robert by the coat sleeve. "Please. Just a moment of your time."

"You shoulda been long outta Purgatory by now."

"I'm not going to run. I'm not afraid."

Robert snorted, bending to pack his scant few possessions he had acquired.

"You said my father left Purgatory and never looked back, but that's not true." There was a pause as Robert stilled, fingers buried in a thin blanket. "My father came back here again and again until he got too sick to make the journey. He brought me here to show me what it was like. I've met these people. I know them. Ol' Carl Barkley? I've known him since I was five years old. Every time we'd go out to your grave and he'd tell me about his friend Robert Svane and what a good man he was. How much he gave to-"

A rough, pained chuckle left the Revenant. "What? He feel guilty when he realized what he'd done to me? Wanted to paint it up real nice?"

"He cared about you a great deal."

Robert sighed, his expression solemn. He hadn't hated Wyatt before his trip to hell, even when the man had left him to die. After the flames had bit and burned at what was left of who he had been and had spit out something entirely different on the other side, he wasn't quite sure how he felt. Some moments he thought he missed him. Those long talks about the good and the bad that men did and what drove them to it. About who they were and what they wanted to accomplish with their time in this world. Then, there were other moments when the mere thought of Wyatt Earp made him see red, made that brand burn deep and hot, and something deep inside his charred soul wanted to drag him back to the living just to rip him apart himself. As he looked back at the young man that looked so much like his father, he felt that pull. But that was the curse warping him to its bidding. If there was anything real in it, he wasn't sure, and he hated that the most.

"All my life I've tried to live up to my father's legend. I traveled to Europe and fought a war trying to live up to it, but this is it. This is what I've been working towards for nearly thirty years. I'm meant to be here, Robert. I understand that that may sound absurd to you, but it doesn't make it any less true. I promised him I'd do everything in my power to end this curse, and I think you can help me."

"You're asking me to help you send me back to hell."

The words caused the young Earp to pause and he shifted from foot to foot for a moment, his eyes darting away before returning to meet Robert's gaze. "I read… a lot. I've studied religious materials and the occult and anything that I could get my hands on that I thought might help me to break this curse so that when I have my own children, they don't have to…. I can't believe that a curse muttered out on a demon's dying breath was so airtight that there is only one way to break it. If you help me, if you can find a way to help me, I will do everything in my power to make sure you walk free at the end of this. Alive. As you should be. You didn't deserve this."

He had to remind himself to breathe as he stood there in the woods, his camp in shambles around them and staring into those grey eyes with so much hope. Hope would only set them up for disappointment. Hope would get them killed. Hope would….. He swallowed hard. "This town is in chaos. Even outlaws look for leadership of a sort. The strongest of the pack. I have an… acquaintance that has been pushing me to take steps to take that role."

"Could you?"

The question was honest. Josiah had no way to know. "Maybe," Robert breathed out. "Some of us got powers when we woke up here. I've seen a couple others, but nothing like mine. They keep comin' at me and nobody's been able to beat me yet." He shook his head, his lips quirking up at one corner. "I've never been much of a fighter, but now…."

"People follow leaders. People that will protect them where they can't protect themselves."

Smart boy. Maybe he wasn't as naive as Robert had originally thought. "Revenants can't do much against that gun of yours, I'd reckon."

Josiah's hand moved to touch the hilt of Peacemaker, his fingers running along his father's initials. "But you could intercede for them. We can find a balance that allows for time. I put the worst of the worst down as they come at me, and all the while we look for a different way to break it."

Robert pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Your father'd've gone at it head on."

"I'm not him. If this is going to work, I have to do it my way. The thing that remains is that I need your help. Do I have it?"

Blue eyes met grey and Robert watched him carefully, taking in every twitch, every small move. This was dangerous. It could go wrong at so many points. Lou was a dangerous loose end, and the moment that Robert started to make a move for power Lou would be right there claiming to have done something to help. They had to be careful.

"First rule would have to be that you and I never meet in public, not till things are set."

"A fair rule."

"And second, if… when we find another way to break this curse, another way for me to break free, you won't hesitate. You'll let me go."

Silence spread between them for a long moment and finally Josiah nodded, extending his hand. "I will."

Robert reached forward and grasped it, the shake between them solidifying the secret alliance, and the Revenant wasn't sure if he'd paved the way to his salvation or his final damnation with the deal struck.

"I have to get back… there's a lot to do and Sheriff Barkley wants to deputize me first thing tomorrow. The man's just lookin' for a way out."

"He never signed up for this."

"But I did," Josiah said firmly. "I will fix this." He held Robert's gaze for a moment and finally started to turn, pausing halfway around. "You said Robert Svane is dead…. What do you go by now?"

"Bobo."

The young Earp turned his nose up. "That's strange."

Robert shrugged. "It was given to me. Who am I to turn it down?"

"Just Bobo?"

"Working on finding more. Anything but who I was. He's gone, and I gotta learn to live with that. No reason to hold onto a dead man's name."

Josiah nodded slowly. "Best of luck to you, Bobo. This will work."

With that bold statement he turned and left into the night, Robert standing there alone in the woods with hope and dread weighing down heavy on his shoulders.

Notes: I've been thinking a lot about Josiah Earp lately and this happened. It did my heart some good to have at least one Earp following after Robert for once instead of the other way around.

[louiswmalik]

drops of sun (zayn/louis 28.1k)

a Tangled adaptation in which Zayn’s the lost prince high in a tower with magical fingertips that glow, Louis’ an on-the-run thief that’s stolen the palace’s crown and together they find themselves in a deal that may or may not make them wish they never met. 

big thank you to the lovely tori for the drawing!

His feet hurt like hell the more his feet thud against the ground as he runs but it's the only thing stopping him from losing the swarm of police. Just a shitty pair of shoes that he seriously should have replaced when he had the chance. Imagine what kind of quality the running shoes would be back at the palace. With the money they have it probably feels like running on fucking clouds.

He can feel Niall closely behind him, Harry a good few feet in front. Damn Harry and his stupid long legs. Louis bets that if he wasn't gifted in that department that he'd beat him in a race any day.

"Get up on the roof!" Niall shouts, his voice heard over their stomping feet and sirens in the background. It's dark, so their figures won't be noticeable from far away but Louis can see multiple car lights coming closer and closer from the reflection of a building’s window.

Harry climbs up the wall (with a lot less grace than one might assume thieves have) and hurries to pull up Louis first, then Niall. As Niall's climbing up, Louis takes in the view. A broad range of lights covering the city, and one building in particular. The big palace complete with towers taller than skyscrapers and architecture worth billions of dollars.

Louis sighs forlornly, "Isn't it spectacular, lads? One day, I'm definitely owning a castle like that."

"The fuck's he on about?" Niall questions, noticeably out of breath.

"Who knows," Harry replies, then tugs on Louis' elbow as though he hadn't just heard them and isn't offended in the slightest, "Come on, Lou. We haven't lost them yet."

Louis' eyes close in on where cars and policemen with flashlights still roam the area. "Right." He says, then leads them over the roofs of houses, "This way."

He crosses two, three buildings where the roofs connect, sliding on the tiles slightly from last night's rain. The sirens are still close-by, and Louis contemplates dropping to the ground again and hiding until they're clear.

But who's he kidding—he stole the Prince's crown, of all things—the police aren't stopping until they're locked up for bloody life. They'll never be in the clear.

"Lou," Harry says, tapping his shoulder. He points to a secluded street, an alley-way that leads to a dark abyss. Far away from where the police are.

Louis nods once and slaps Harry on the back, "Good man."

They take turns sliding down the drainpipe, careful not to make too much commotion incase a passerby or the residents of this house take notice and scream. If there's one thing Louis' learnt from his life experience as a thief, it's that a woman's scream can ruin every chance of getting away.

Luckily, being Louis Tomlinson, he's never had that issue.

~

Today's the day he asks.

It's been eighteen years. And in exactly two days it'll be nineteen. Six thousand, nine hundred and thirty-five days. Give or take.

So if he doesn't ask now—when?

Maybe he should make something nice for her, a painting or something. Or would she think that's lame? Especially since he'd be asking her a favour after giving it to her. God, no. Scrap that idea entirely.

He sighs, sits on the couch in despair. He's asked once before. It ended with shouting and making her cry and he felt awful for weeks afterwards. But it's been years. And all he's ever known is the tower’s walls and the view from his window. The view from which he sees the same lights in the sky once a year, magically on the same night as his birthday.

He looks at the spray paint on the wall, the night sky decorated with the yellow lights that seem to float to nowhere in particular. He imagines—always imagines—what it's like to see them up close.

"Zayn!"

He's startled from his position and stands from the couch, rushing to the window. He sees his mother waiting below in the darkness, waving to him. Before anything else, fear settles in his belly. He takes in a deep breath before opening the window and pushing the button from outside, the one that allows the front door to open for only three seconds, stopping any kind of other intruder that might be lurking.

He hears her coming up the elevator and he plays with his hands nervously. Just ask, Zayn thinks to himself, There's no harm in asking.

"Hello, sunshine." She greets, smiling. "Help me with the shopping, will you? I bought extra groceries this time around, thought we could make something extra special for your birthday dinner this year. Hm? What do you say?"

“A—actually, uh," Zayn licks his lips and picks up the bags, trying to get his brain-to-mouth function to work accordingly, "I was thinking, that... We could do something else this year?"

His mother pauses once the bags are on the kitchen counter. Zayn swallows nervously. "Oh?"

"Well, I was hoping that, uh, we—we could go see the lights?" Zayn says, watching her expression carefully. Then he hastily tacts on, "And come back home as soon as it's over, of course."

She breathes in, slowly. Her palms rest against the side of the bench, her unsettlingly long nails tapping on the marble. "Darling," She begins, voice level, "What have I told you about going out there?"

“I—I know, but—“

"I know best, sweetheart. There's no point in trying to leave. It's pathetic; a stupid light show that nobody even cares about. And you have a perfectly good view of it from the comfort of your own home!" She smiles tightly, notices the way Zayn's body deflates, "Listen to me, Zayn, come here." She pulls Zayn in for a hug, one that he falls into immediately. It's all the comfort he needs. Until she squeezes him just a little too tightly, and utters, "Don't you ever, ever ask me that again."

~

So, the 'abyss' turns out to be a black brick wall leading absolutely nowhere.

"I thought this only happens in the movies." Niall mutters with a laugh, one Louis knows all too well as stress-induced.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Harry paces, hands to his hair. "What are we gonna do?"

"Well," Louis swallows, mouth suddenly dry. The fear eats away at him but he tries to think clearly, "We could run again, the other way-"

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Niall almost shouts over the sounds of sirens that are coming closer and closer, "Didn't you see them zero-ing in on either side?"

"Up." Louis says. He takes in both their confused looks and turns towards the garbage disposal next to the wall. "Hoist me to the roof and I'll pull you both up."

Niall and Harry both look at the distance between the garbage and the roof, then exchange a look between them both. Harry holds out his hand with a "give me" gesture.

"The satchel." Niall clarifies.

If Louis had time, he'd go on a spiel about “all they've been through together” and “even after all these years” they're “still skeptical”? But alas Louis just settles on a: "Still don't trust me, lads?" And receives a look that conveys all too much from both of them.

Soon enough, Louis' on the roof of what he guesses is a restaurant, and he's about to stretch down to grab a hold of Niall's hand, when—

"Stop right there!"

Officers block the entry immediately, armed with guns and tasers of the vast variety. Cars come into view, too, and it's the moment that Louis has a second to look at his boys, plus the shit-show they've found themselves in, and makes a decision in amidst it all.

He lets out a very manly squeal as the army of cops come charging down the alleyway, and in the split-second of this happening, Louis manages to throw out a quick, truthfully sincere apology—and sprint off in the opposite direction.

"Get him!" The police yell.

"Fuck you, Louis!" Niall and Harry say afterwards, with a lot less venom than Louis had expected. "OH, YOU FUCKING TWAT!"

Ah, there it is.

Louis can't help but grin as he throws on the satchel he stole from Harry's arm over his shoulder, the crown now firmly bouncing against his hip as he hops, skips and jumps over roofs and tiles.

He can still hear sirens, still hear the pairs of feet behind him struggling to catch up with Louis' quickness, a finesse that one can only acquire after years of thieving.

He darts and swerves from one building to the next, knowing that they're not too far from each other and can tell which ones will be too hard to climb or too low to drop. The police will never catch him, never.

And that's when the first gunshot is heard.

Fuck.

Louis speeds up his pace, jumps down to the first roof he sees. The tiles aren't as sturdy as they would be in a rainless week, and Louis' damn shoes aren't as good as they used to be.

Another gunshot.

He hears it hit the steel chimney right next to him, making Louis' heart beat faster and faster.

He's losing them, he knows, they're only shooting blind. But another shot fires and Louis can feel it whip passed his neck.

And that's when Louis' feet jump and he hits the roof just slightly off-kilter, and slips.

~

"So," Zayn says, a little squeakier than he'd like. He clears his throat, "So, I've been thinking."

His mother looks up at him from across the table, her eyes turn cold, “Zayn—"

“Not—not about that. Well, sort of, it's about my birthday."

She dips a bit of bread into her soup, her eyebrow quirked expectantly, "Go on."

"For my present, could I get some new paints, please?" He asks, swirling his spoon around in his bowl, "The ones you got me last year. I liked those ones."

At this, she sighs. "Really? But that trip took me three days to get."

Zayn bites the inside of his cheek. "Please? They're all I... All I could think of wanting."

She closes her eyes, sinks in her chair a little more, "Fine. I'll leave tonight."

Once Zayn has packed a bag for her, cleaned the dishes, the dining table, the kitchen, his mother sets off into town.

"I'll be back, little flower." She says, kissing him on the forehead.

Zayn presses the button to open the door for her and she leaves, waving to him from a distance.

He watches from his window, waves back. "I'll be here." He mumbles.

~

Rolling down a hill uncontrollably isn't exactly something Louis saw himself doing when he woke up this morning. It's extremely disorientating, and actually quite painful. The satchel is clutched in his hands, making sure it doesn't squash on the ground like his entire body is right now. All his bones could break in half and it still wouldn't be as expensive as fixing a mere scratch in the Royal jewels.

He rolls, then rolls some more. He's pretty sure a rock has stabbed his abdomen and he's lost a shoe but he doesn't have time to cry over any of that because eventually, the rolling stops.

“Jesus—fuck, ow." He turns on his back, grabbing at his side. There's blood, but not enough to keep him pinned to the ground. He searches up the hill, tries to see if anyone's managed to follow him. It's completely bare. "Idiots."

With all his might, he manages to get onto all fours. He wonders if it was worth it, abandoning his allies. Wonders even more when he finally stands up, the cut on his ribs almost killing him with pain. He goes to check the crown within the satchel to know if it was worth it if there's a scratch on the damn thing or not. He pops open the button, and that's around the same time he hears the flick of a gun's safety switch being turned off.

"Drop the bag." Says the gun-holder, who sounds very close to his ear.

Louis curses to himself, partly from fear, partly from disappointment. How could he not have heard him?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Louis says, hands flinging up to either side of his head in surrender. He slowly starts to move around, tries to lock eyes onto the man, which was probably a false move, because now there's a gun pressed directly to his forehead, "Well, look at that, you've got me."

"I want the bag."

Louis looks to the policeman—and from what he can see thanks to the stars and the moon being sufficiently bright tonight—he’s clad in a different uniform than the others, yet still owns a badge all the same. He's younger than most, maybe even younger than Louis, and he's shaking.

"Skipping the formalities, are we?" Louis says with a quirked brow, watching with great delight at how Liam's own brows are furrowed tightly together. "I'm Louis Tomlinson, if you care to know. And might I say, you're doing a marvellous job, honestly."

"I know who you are." He manages to say, “And—and I'll kill you."

"Oh, you don't want to do that, do you?" Louis asks, cocking his hip to one side. "We only just met, and I haven't even caught the name of my capturer!"

The young cop blinks rapidly, hand noticeably shaking even more. He swallows, thinking, then says, "Payne." His voice comes out strained. He clears his throat. "Liam Payne. Now—hand over the crown, Tomlinson."

Louis lets a small grin show as he looks Liam in the eyes. There's a lot of inexperience in this boy, a lot of fear, too. He probably has never been in the heart of a crime scene before, let alone killed someone. And judging by his different uniform, Louis settles on something that makes him grin even more. He's not even fully qualified.

"Listen, I'll make a deal with you." His hand goes to the satchel, Liam's eyes following. "I'll give you this. I will. I have no other choice, do I? But, I'm quite partial to doing as I'm told when I've not got a bullet that's threatening to blow my brains out any second faced towards me."

Liam takes Louis' words into consideration. The muscles in his arm become more tense the more he shakes. The barrel of the gun isn't even pressed against his forehead anymore, more like wavering to different parts of his face. He seems to have an inner turmoil, throwing up the pro's and con's of Louis' proposition, before he finally retracts the gun. Both of them let out a breath.

"I'll drop the gun, and you'll give me the crown?"

"Absolutely." Louis says straight away. "And you can even tell your boss you've killed me, anyway. It'll give you so much respect. You might even get promoted."

Liam nods, then slowly bends down. He’s just about placed the dangerous weapon on the ground when he says, "Okay. Your tur—“ then Louis' off, darting through the grass as fast as his newly bare feet can muster, unable to stop from letting out a loud cackle as he hears an angry "God dammit!" from behind him.

He hears a few misguided bullets shoot through the air before another pair of feet join him on the run. Liam Payne might be well-built and easily able to knock Louis out, but Louis' always got speed on his side. And speed always wins.

He weaves through the trees, bark and branches scraping at his legs and feet but he doesn't care, just focuses on making sure he vanishes where Liam can't find him. There's an opening in the trees and Louis sees it as an opportunity, darting out towards it before ducking behind a boulder and waiting.

A minute or so later, he hears Liam before he sees him, feet hitting the ground heavier than Louis', breath heaving. He stops at the opening of the trees, looks around, and then his expression drops.

"Fuck!" He groans, then reluctantly decides to turn back around, hands in his hair, muttering a string of words to himself that Louis can't make out.

He feels bad for him, he does.

And when he can't hear Liam's self-loathing anymore, he sneaks out from the boulder and crosses the opening in the opposite direction, coming to a waterfall of leaves covering something like a curtain.

He pulls it back without so much as a second thought, and slips into what looks like yet another clearing, but over here it looks like the grass is greener. Funny, that.

He gives the area a quick scope, which is where he finds an antique-looking tower. It's deserted, Louis assumes as he walks towards it. It's covered in green vines and thorns, the brick grey and the building just a simple cylinder with a singular window facing towards him.

"Odd." He says aloud. Then, he shrugs. This will have to do.

~

Ding-dong.

Zayn picks up his head from where he's buried in his sketchbook, finishing off the shading of what he believes to be an Alien. He drops his pencil down onto the book and gets up from his chair. Mother must have forgotten something, it's only been three or so hours since she's left.

He considers turning on her electric blanket, knowing that if she's turned back now, there's no way she's venturing out again in the darkness.

He makes his way over to the window, and his eyes widen at what he sees when he looks down.

"Oh, no." He whispers under his breath, hitting the button to open the door quickly as he takes in his mother's form, kneeling over with a groan, pain coming from what looks like her abdomen. Zayn's high in the tower, and it's almost pitch-black, but he can tell she's in trouble.

Once he sees her vanish, Zayn makes his way to the kitchen just as the elevator comes up. He hurries to the dining table to pick up a chair.

"What is this place?" Comes an astounded whisper.

Zayn whips his head around. His eyes lock onto someone he was definitely not expecting.

There's an intruder. An intruder.

He ducks behind the kitchen counter. He hears the robber, or murderer, or kidnapper or whomever his mother has warned him about, roam slowly around the living area, taking in the place with sounds of astonishment leaving his mouth every few seconds.

When he's tracing his fingertips over one of Zayn's artworks on the wall, Zayn takes the opportunity to grab the first weapon he sees and silently waits.

"This is so fucking cool." The criminal says, and for a second Zayn thinks he's talking to him. His heart is going faster than its ever gone in his life. He doesn't reply, doesn't dare to.

He hears slow feet come closer towards him and Zayn rises only just. Then, just as the intruder's seconds from turning to face him, Zayn clocks him on the back of the head with a fry-pan.

And, shit.

Now he's got an unconscious man in the middle of his kitchen. An unconscious criminal in the middle of his kitchen. He's probably one of the ones his mother really warned him about. The people that want to take Zayn, to sell him for his magic and to keep him locked away.

Zayn swallows deeply, shaking hands managing to hold onto the fry-pan as he uses the handle to un-mask the stranger's face from his shaggy hair. He moves his fringe to one side, revealing a dirt-covered cheek and forehead. He's got stubble on his jawline and upper lip, but nowhere near as much as Zayn’s.

He looks harmless like this, and his figure isn't what his mother made them out to be at all. This one's small, the only sign of threatening muscle in his calves. He doesn't even have shoes on.

What he does have, though, is a bleeding cut on the right of his stomach and a bag that was holding a gold-looking, expensive item. It reminds him of his mother's jewellery, her necklaces and rings to match. This looks bigger, and it wouldn't fit on any of the places you're supposed to put jewellery.

He looks back at the man in his house, face down, unresponsive, and hurt. Zayn squeezes his eyes shut. He lets the fry-pan fall to the ground, the clatter of it making the floorboards vibrate. His hands find his hair as he tilts his head back towards the ceiling.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

So, he's got a complete stranger in his house and he might wake up any second now. It's great, it's fine. The first person he meets from the outside world and Zayn's managed to knock him out... which will most likely make the boy extremely angry. Which means, when he does wake, he could easily hurt Zayn. And... God, his heart is pounding.

He bounces on his toes, thinking fast. He's got new-found energy shooting through his veins and he needs to do something.

He can't leave the tower, that's for certain. And he can't throw the body out of the window, since that will most definitely kill him. But he can't just leave him there—he has to have a plan.

Zayn's eyes dart around the room and lock onto one of the dining chairs. He brings it over to the body, not once letting his eyes leave it. He's said to himself that if he catches even the slightest blink of an eye, he'll knock him unconscious again without hesitation.

And, actually... Maybe he should kill him.

He's an intruder, after all. He came here with obvious intent. His mother has always said nobody will ever get him from here, and if they find him, it's bad news. This man was here to take him away, and maybe—maybe—if Zayn kills him, his mother will see how excellent he is at taking care of himself, and she'll take him to see the lights.

Zayn scoffs at himself. Who is he kidding? He couldn't muster up the strength, physically and emotionally, to kill someone. And this someone is a person from the outside world, someone who knows everything that's out there. Someone who could tell Zayn everything his mother has kept from him since he was a baby.

He nods to himself, swallows harshly, and approaches the body.

He squats down, close enough for him to see the body move with soft breaths. He reaches out slowly, pokes the body's shoulder with his finger. No reaction. He's read about possums, how they fake their death to escape from predators, and Zayn wonders whether he's pretending to sleep to avoid another blow to the head.

To avoid this, Zayn slaps him across the face.

Nope, definitely unconscious.

Zayn takes in a deep breath. He places his hands underneath the man's shoulders and tries to hoist him up. He's complete dead weight, and although Zayn's spent a lot of time doing chin-up's on the ceiling's beams, he still finds himself struggling to lift the body up and onto the chair. He manages, though, and takes his time to regain his breath before he looks back at him, sitting in a slumped position, eyes closed.

But Zayn wastes no time and fiddles around in the kitchen before he finds what he needs. He makes a quick work out of the intruder, whizzing around him like one of his artworks, making sure it's perfectly what he wants.

Once he's done, Zayn stands back to admire it. The boy is now safely secured to the chair, wrists and ankles bounded with absolutely no movement possible. He smiles to himself slightly, before he realises his artwork is bleeding.

Zayn's logic, you see, is that this boy is full of knowledge. And if he's bleeding—well, he won't be much use if he's dead.

So, he fetches the first aid kit from the bathroom, and crouches down so his face is a little above the boy's knee, and begins to focus on the wide gash to his side.

He wonders how long it takes for someone to wake after being knocked out. With all the books he's read in his lifetime, he's never stumbled upon one that's told him the answer.

~

Louis wakes to a dull, throbbing pain to the back of his head. He also wakes to a stinging sensation on his cheek. And a feeling of pressure to his abdomen.

He blinks warily, eyes hurting from the light. Once his eyes focus, he realises the pressure on his body is a dabbing motion... Made by someone else.

He glances down hurriedly, only to be met with a boy who's kneeling below him, face close to Louis' hips as he frowns in concentration, a wet cotton ball soaking up the blood from Louis' gash.

He takes a moment to look at him, taken aback quite a bit, with the way his eyelashes swoop over his killer cheekbones, his features all sharp and prominent, a face that would surely be picked up by every fashion label possible. He feels the stranger's breath against his exposed skin, and Louis feels goosebumps decorate him.

Suddenly, the throbbing pain is forgotten.

"Well, hello there." He says smoothly, outwardly impressed by this attractive boy in a compromising position.

He doesn't know what he expects, but it's definitely not the model falling back onto the floor with a gasp, eyes petrified like he's about to be shot dead.

“Wh—hey," Louis frowns, suddenly concerned, "Why're you—“

It's then, when he goes to reach out his hand in comfort, that he feels the restraints around his wrists. He tugs once, twice, but it's obvious he's not leaving this chair anytime soon. He tries to kick out the rope around his ankles, too, but with the tightness of it added with the weakness of his body, Louis' held there for however long it takes.

He looks around the environment he's in, and it's not long until he realises where he is. The tower, the artworks on the walls. He thought this place was deserted, thought it hadn't been occupied in years—

"Don't move." Comes a shaky voice.

Oh, right. Mr Versace Model is here.

Louis turns his attention to him. He's now a fair few feet away, as though Louis' going to miraculously break from his hold like The Hulk and attack him. He's also, quite oddly, holding a fry-pan in his hands like a weapon, a faux-threatening expression worn on his face.

"Isn't like I could if I wanted to, could I?" Louis retorts, budging against the rope hopelessly for emphasis, "Were you, like, in the Swiss Army or something?"

The boy looks back at him blankly, "The what?"

Louis shakes his head, "Never mind." He looks him up and down, realises he must not be much taller than him, or much younger, either. "Why am I being held hostage, might I ask? Are you with the palace guards?"

He can see the Adam's apple bob in his throat as he swallows, his frown deepening. "Palace guards?"

Okay. So he isn't working for the cops. Or has any idea of who they are. This is weird.

"What's your name, gorgeous?" Louis asks, as sweet as he can manage. But the boy doesn't seem to even react slightly to the compliment.

“I—I don't want to say."

"Ooh," Louis replies, a smirk to his lips, whispers, ”Are you undercover?"

His jaw tightens, but his stance loosens a little, giving up on being tightly-wound and ready to strike. "Listen to me," He begins, tone level and completely serious, "I'm going to ask you some questions and you'll answer me truthfully. Got it?"

Louis can't help but think about how good-looking he is. He thinks that if he ordered Louis to do anything, he'd do it.

Louis shrugs, though, says, "Sure. Sounds easy enough."

He doesn't miss the way the boy's features light up in the slightest second, before he clears his throat and nods curtly. He doesn't miss the way his own stomach does a flip or two, either. Which is—weird.

Then suddenly they're sitting opposite each other, Louis—completely bounded and defeated, and the boy—hands in his lap, fidgeting nervously, fry-pan easily accessible at his side. Louis studies him for a moment or two as he tries to think of the first question.

There's something odd about him. Not appearance wise, but the way he acts. He's awkward, but not in the way Louis knows socially awkward people to be. And he's frightened of Louis, (if the way he jumped back from him when he woke is anything to go by) but judging by his lack of protocol and zero sign of him calling the police, Louis concludes that this stranger has no idea who he is.

"Why do you carry jewellery around?" Is his first question.

Louis sharply inhales. The crown. God, where did he put it? Is it hidden? Why can't he see it?

He must make a show of craning his neck to try and find it with his eyes because the boy clears his throat loudly with intent, making Louis look back at him.

"It's on the kitchen bench."

Louis flicks his fringe out of his eyes as he spins his whole body, chair only moving slightly, to catch his eye on the glimmering bit of fortune. He breathes out an unsubtle sigh of relief.

"Oh, thank God." He smiles, almost laughs. Hysteria or exhaustion catching up to him. Fry-pan Man looks more confused than ever, though, which makes Louis compose himself. "Right. Uh, do—do you have any idea who I am?"

And as he guessed, he's met with a blank stare. "Am I supposed to?"

This makes Louis fidget, "No, I suppose not." He swallows, then prepares an answer. There's an unsettling feeling in his gut, as though revealing who he is will destroy... Something. "I, uh, stole it. The crown. The piece of jewellery you're talking about. It's worth a lot of money, so."

The confession hangs in the air. He's expected for it to gain weight, to sit heavily between them. For there to be an instant phone call to authorities, an accusation, judgement. But all it receives is a nod, and then it's swept away as though it was a mere fact about his hair colour.

"Why do you want to kidnap me?"

Louis chokes on his own spit. He coughs, splutters, then looks at the boy who's face is sketched with mild concern. "I'm sorry?"

"That's why you've come here, is it not?"

"No, I—I’m not a kidnapper, Jesus. I may be a criminal, but I definitely wouldn't do that." Louis shakes his head in disbelief, "Why would you—what—?”

"Why did you come here, then?"

Every question is said so carefully, so lacked with emotion it makes Louis look like the most dramatic man alive.

"Look, love, I don't know how I stumbled upon your humble abode but I did. It seemed like a perfect way to hide from everyone who's chasing me and, quite frankly, I didn't think anyone even lived this far away from town."

At that, the boy dips his head. It might be the light, or Louis' disillusioned imagination but he swears he can see colour rising in the boy's cheeks.

"Can I ask you a question?" Louis says softly.

He shuffles uncomfortably in his chair before eventually nodding.

"Why do you live here? And why do you live alone and so far away?"

"I'd say that was two and a half questions."

This elicits a chuckle out of Louis, and the boy's eyes shine with something Louis can't pinpoint. Nevertheless, an answer never comes and he guesses it's an area that's off-limits.

"Alright, alright, a simple one this time." He licks his lips, "I feel as though we've established some sort of connection, wouldn't you say? But we still don't know each other's names. I'll start. I'm Louis."

The boy looks down at his feet, his eyebrows pinching together. Then, without so much of a mumble, he speaks. "Zayn."

~

"Zayn," Louis repeats, trying it out. "That's a nice name."

Zayn feels himself frown and watches as Louis' eyes suddenly dart away from his own. He scans Louis' abdomen briefly, biting his own lip as he sees the gash isn't nearly clean enough.

"We should fix you up." He says simply. Not waiting for a reply, Zayn stands and makes his way back over to Louis. He feels eyes on him as he kneels but for some reason he doesn't meet them, and instead focuses on ripping the fabric on Louis' shirt a little more to get to the deeper part of his cut.

"Are you a doctor, then?"

Louis' voice sounds different. Almost like he's forcing the words out. His torso's tightened, too. Maybe he's scared.

Zayn can't help but snicker a little at Louis' question, though. He's read about doctors—read about every profession, really—and knows the amount of study and practice it takes to become qualified. Becoming a doctor would actually require him to leave the house.

"What, am I wrong to assu—Ah!” Louis flinches away from the cotton swab as it presses to his skin, cleaning out the excess dirt. "You know, it'd probably be better if I just had a shower, wouldn't it?"

Zayn frowns again. A shower would mean he'd have to be released from the chair, would mean he'd be able to have privacy whilst he has one, and would probably mean Louis would have to borrow Zayn's clothes.

It is logical. But it won't do.

"How badly do you need the crown?" Zayn asks, going back to cotton-swabbing, ignoring Louis' sharp inhales of pain.

"Uh..." Louis stutters, confused, "A fucking lot. Yeah. It's sort of my life's income, that."

Good.

Zayn nods in response. It isn't until the cut is clean and free of dried blood when Louis talks again.

"Why, uh, why d'you wanna know?"

A gauge patch is enough for now, Zayn supposes. It fits perfectly over the gash, which, after being cleaned, isn't as bad as it seemed. He places it over the injury in a smooth motion, watching as the creamy-coloured material turns slightly darker.

He packs up the first aid kit and returns it to its rightful spot. From here, he can just see the slight profile of Louis' face. His head is darting around manically, probably trying his hardest to find a way out, if any. Zayn sort of takes pity on him. Sort of.

"I have a proposition for you." Zayn says, walking passed Louis and towards his favourite painting. The one on the wall, the stars at night.

He turns and sees Louis already staring at him. Then he blinks a few times and swallows his words before he says them, “O—okay."

"I want you to take me to see the floating lights."

He's met with a blank stare. Zayn stares right back. He wonders if all thieves are a little slow.

"The..." Louis trails off, eyebrows pulled together. Then his eyes lock onto the painting behind Zayn and his face flashes with recognition. "Oh, you mean the lanterns."

"Lanterns?"

"Yeah, they do it every year. Light up the sky with floating lanterns for the lost Prince." He says it like a quote, filled with a sort of nonchalance and boredom Zayn doesn't understand. He catches the moment Louis' expression changes to pure bewilderment, "How don't you know that?"

And... Zayn knows exactly how.

His mind crosses over to the countless times he's asked to see them, asked about what they are, asked why it happens every year on his birthday. And each time he's met with a short reply, a false description, a lie.

Anger, is what he feels.

"We'll leave now." Zayn tells him, determined.

"Now?" Louis almost chokes out, “What—I haven't even agreed to this yet!"

"You have to. Or else you won't get your 'income.'"

He sees Louis' face fall. His eyes automatically try to search for the crown. Strapped to the chair, he fails miserably.

"Okay. But, think about this for a second. What if I accept, you untie me, and I end up being a kidnapper all along, hm? What would you do then? I could lure you anywhere and you'd have no idea—“

Zayn snaps a bunch of dry spaghetti in his hands behind Louis' head. He's met with a desperate gasp, a sound one might make if they just witnessed a cold-blooded murder.

"Did you snap it, Zayn?!" He shrieks, voice a few octaves higher than normal. "I swear to fucking god, mate, that thing is more valuable than everything you bloody own!"

Zayn calmly walks so he's in Louis' line of sight again. Louis' eyes are filled with alarm, his entire body agitated, ready to fight as though he'd have any chance of winning. And then his gaze settles on the broken uncooked spaghetti and Zayn's sure Louis stops breathing, knowing his cover of not being a desperate thief is blown.

"Oh." He says, then clears his throat loudly. "Well, aren't you just the smartest captor?"

"You'll take me, then?" Zayn asks, his tone the furthest from questioning as possible.

Louis' entire body sinks, exasperated as he rolls his eyes dramatically. "I mean, haven't given me much of an option, have you? Though, can gladly say I'd probably grab the crown and run before you could even dream of catching up to me, but that's neither here nor there, is it?"

Zayn blinks. He's right. The satchel remains where it is, easily accessible and attainable. He'd have to hide it somewhere unimaginable, and he'd have to do it with Louis not hearing or seeing a thing.

The fry-pan finds its way back into Zayn's hands again and he twirls it. Louis seems to catch on, too, because his eyes widen comically, leaning as far as he can in his chair.

Zayn hits him over the head just enough with one swing so that Louis' knocked out cold.

~

Bleary eyed and disorientated, Louis blinks his eyes open.

This time, he's not met with prodding at his side and restrictive limbs. Though, he does still have a throbbing headache.

He uses his new found freedom to touch his head where it hurts, inhaling sharply when his fingers touch the bump on his scalp. He needs to lie down.

"Good, you're awake."

Louis' eyes blink wider. They lock onto Zayn immediately, sitting in a chair directly in front of him, eyes studious as they take in Louis' newly awakened state.

So. It wasn't a nightmare, then.

"Can I, like, lay down somewhere, or—?“

"You're taking me to see the lights—uh, lanterns. Remember?"

How could he forget? "Yeah, and I will. But isn't it, like, midnight by now?"

Zayn only shrugs.

"God." Louis whispers under his breath. He leans forwards in the chair, places his elbows on his knees and slides his palms down his face. His head is pounding, his side aches and he's so exhausted. "Do you even have a clock?"

Zayn shakes his head.

Of course he doesn't. Strange boy living by himself in an ancient yet modern building sat in the middle of nowhere, doesn't have a clock. Because who needs to keep track of time when you're not a functioning member of society?

"Right." Louis replies. "I suppose you're itching to go, then?"

Zayn nods his head once, stern and determined. Louis catches him nodding again as he gets up from his chair, but he thinks that one is for himself.

"I'll press the button, you leave the tower and I'll, uh, climb out the window."

He seems nervous, Louis notices. He's fiddling with his fingers and not making any eye contact whatsoever. Louis' so caught up in Zayn that it takes a second or two before the words register.

"Erm, come again?" Louis asks. He really needs to lie down. "Why on earth would you rather climb out a window than leave through the front door?"

Zayn picks his head up and looks at Louis. His jaw tenses slightly. "The one button is the only way to open the door. The door closes within three seconds automatically."

When Louis can only stare at him, Zayn heaves out a sigh and walks out of the room. Louis blinks, then figures he should follow him.

Standing up, Louis feels beyond dizzy. He finds his feet, though, and follows Zayn's own passed the kitchen and down a corridor leading into a single room.

The room is obviously Zayn's bedroom. The ceiling is as high as the one in the main room and there's a king-sized bed that almost fits against the entire width of the wall, a wardrobe that could probably only fit about eight outfits in, a mirror on the far side of the room, and a bedside table with nothing but a lamp and a book that looks centuries old.

And, of course, a tiny window.

Zayn stands by it and waits for Louis to come closer before he opens it. Louis recognises the meadow that it shows from here, and he realises this is the same opening he entered through.

"It's here." Zayn tells him. Louis follows Zayn's finger from where it's pointing just outside the window. And there, placed on the brick of the tower, is a tiny button. He presses it, and the sound of the door opening is heard from down below. As promised, it slams shut after three seconds.

The realisation dawns on him, "Why'd you let me in, then?"

Zayn's eyes widen just enough to be noticed. He dips his head a little, colour spreading on his cheeks.

"I..." He rubs the back of his neck, "It was dark. I thought you were someone I knew and I could see that they—uh, you, were hurt."

It's obvious that he's embarrassed. Louis wonders who else lives here with him. He also wonders why on earth someone would set up an entry/exit point like this. But then he's wondering why he's wasting time wondering, since the only way he'll get the crown back is if he takes this weird boy to see the stupid lanterns.

However, he's definitely not letting him leave through a window that's ten-feet off the ground.

"Would you mind if the front door was constantly open?" Louis asks. Zayn frowns in confusion. "Though, I don't think you would have any problems with intruders, to be fair. You're sort of situated in the most isolated area, I think it's about a one in a million coincidence that I even found myself here—“

"What are you getting at?"

Louis twists his mouth. He bites his tongue, too, since telling Zayn it's rude to interrupt might result in another fry-pan to the head.

"We could tape it, right? So it's always pressed down."

It takes exactly two seconds for Zayn's face to brighten in agreement, then another two for him to dash out of the room.

Once out of sight, Louis rushes to the wardrobe and flings it open. He looks through the three drawers, the shelf up the top, in a pair of boots. He crosses to the bedside table, rummages through the contents of the drawer.

He's on the floor, searching underneath the bed when Zayn returns.

"You'll never find it." He says, unfazed. It makes Louis jump, resulting in his head hitting the wooden bed frame.

"Fuckin' bastard," Louis spits out at the frame. He rolls out from his position and rubs at his head. With whatever brain cells are left, he realises Zayn went to fetch a roll of duct tape.

"Would this work?"

"Yeah," Louis says, getting up from the floor, rubbing his head. He crosses the room and holds out his hand, "Here, let me."

Zayn passes it over. Louis ignores the pair of scissors in Zayn's other hand and rips a bit of tape with his teeth instead, earning a frown from the set of eyes watching him. Then he places it over the outward button, sure enough opening the door below.

He hears Zayn let out a breath.

"Okay," He says. And with a little more meaning, "Okay."

Louis turns to him. He's bouncing on his toes slightly, as though he's gearing himself up. The palms of his hands pressing together then pulling apart just as quickly as though he were clapping without sound, and his eyes have widened.

Louis doesn't know what to do, so he steps towards him hesitantly, "Are you, uh, sure you want to do this, mate?"

"Yes." Comes the immediate answer. And then, as though too much thought to it will change his mind, Zayn turns and leaves the bedroom once again.

Louis remains in his spot, until he shrugs, and follows him.

"You'll take me to the lanterns." Zayn orders, not stopping—not even looking at Louis—as he makes his way through the same door Louis entered in. "And you'll bring me back here immediately afterwards. Then you will get your jewellery."

"It's a—“ Louis stops himself, realising that Zayn couldn't care less about what's in the satchel. "You know," He adds as they climb into the elevator, "this whole ordeal sounds a lot like you're an escort and I'm a rich old man, doesn't it?"

Zayn just looks at him with a blank expression in response. He doesn't know what else he was expecting.

~

So, here he is. Standing at the doorway, feet just about touching the spiky grass he's looked at for almost nineteen years of his life. And he's frozen to the spot.

He concentrates on his breathing. It's fine, he tells himself. The grass is what Louis walked on to get to the tower, it's what his mother travels through almost every day.

He looks at it, looks at his feet, looks at the border of trees and... It all looks so different from here. Although all he can see is from the sparse light from the stars, it's enough for Zayn to stand still and take it in.

This might be the only time he gets to do this.

"It's alright, mate." Louis says from beside him, not stepping off the wooden floor, either. "It's safe."

Zayn takes to gnawing at his lip. He looks at Louis, and he catches something that looks like concern flash in his eyes before it's quickly disguised by a smile.

"Look." He says with a few wags of his brows before taking a dramatic leap onto the grass. He straightens with a faux-gasp and Zayn watches him with his arms crossed. "I'm still alive!"

Louis then proceeds to do a dance that involves him almost frolicking around, arms swaying and feet bouncing off the ground, whilst whistling something obnoxiously. Then he stops, drops to the ground, and pretends like it's the most comfortable thing on earth.

If he's like most of the people that live out there, Zayn thinks he wouldn't mind being locked in a tower for another twenty years.

He sighs, walks through the grass and over towards Louis who's now attempting at a snow angel, and steps over him, making him stop.

Zayn walks ahead, towards the curtain of leaves that he sees his mother walk through all the time, and figures it's the only way out. It must be right, since Louis doesn't try and redirect him, just follows with the same whistling tune he had before.

It should make him uneasy, seeing him this happy. It's like Louis is glad he has to take Zayn on this trek and he shouldn't be. Maybe Louis wasn't joking, maybe he really is a kidnapper and this was his plan all along. Maybe Zayn's been tricked into the easiest scheme ever.

It should make him uneasy, but as he looks at Louis—clapping his hands idly and completely barefoot—the anxiousness he feels doesn't get any worse.

Louis catches his eye and must feel his hesitation, though, because his whistles and movements stop altogether and his brows pinch together slightly. "Are you positive you want to do this?"

"No." Zayn admits—half to himself, half to Louis—and inhales sharply. "But I know I have to."

"Alright." Louis replies easily, hands fitting inside the front pockets of his jeans. "Can I ask why you'd have any reason to feel like you shouldn't?"

It's a big question. It's only one but it holds the answer to a lot of them that Zayn's sure Louis has. He couldn't tell him even if he wanted to, is the thing.

He's not about to reveal that he's been denied the liberty to venture out into the world, and the only things he's ever experienced have been in the same four rooms of the tower, and the only real knowledge he has about the world is from what he can see from out his window.

And, of course, this is all because his mother's expressed many times that the outside is a dangerous and cruel place filled with people with bad intentions and those who want to drain Zayn from his magic.

No, he's definitely not about to unveil any of that to Louis any time soon.

"No, you can't." Zayn answers, almost feeling bad.

But Louis takes it on his chin, turns his mouth downwards as he shrugs one shoulder and says, "Fair play." Before he pulls back the leaf curtain and presents a valley of pure darkness leading out to a small vicinity of what Zayn can make out as greenery.

Zayn's heart starts to pound.

He looks back. The tower seems so, so far away. The door is wide open and he can see his window from here. It really does look huge, the whole building.

He turns to Louis, who's watching him with close eyes. "You lead, I'll follow."

Louis' eyes trail down to where Zayn's gripping onto the fry-pan with both hands tightly. He loosens them as soon as he notices, and tries to unwind a little.

"Uh, here." Louis says as he steps foot into the sheltered walk-way, half his body disappearing in shadows. Zayn realises Louis' hand is sitting in the air, waiting between them, urging Zayn to follow.

Zayn closes his eyes for a few seconds, opens them and steps into the darkness, too.

Louis drops his neglected hand after a few seconds and clears his throat. "Just follow me, I'll lead you to the city."

And then they're walking.

~

The way Louis knows is around the most outskirts of the town.

He's got the entire police force on his tail, Harry and Niall who surely want to kill him right now, as well as that young cop—Liam, was it?—who wouldn't hesitate to shoot on target this time round.

Though, Zayn doesn't need to know that.

"It's very green, lots of foliage and, like, dirt footpaths." Louis starts explaining falsely. He's not entirely sure why, but he's never been good with silences. "The only form of civilisation, really, is the palace itself."

He watches Zayn, who only nods as he looks around, probably trying to take it all in. Louis doesn't know if Zayn knows he's lying. He's not sure how much Zayn knows of the world, if he's researched it, if he's aware of how advanced it actually is... Especially compared to the old-style tower he's living in.

"So," Louis starts up again, since he's still only met with silence, "If we can't talk about your life, what can we talk about?"

He watches as Zayn's mouth twists uncomfortably. He looks at Louis in a side-eye glance. For a moment, Louis thinks he'll just look away again and let a new-found awkwardness fall between them.

But then he hears Zayn take in a breath, "I don't... I don't know if I..."

He trails off, stops in his tracks. Louis realises he's having second thoughts.

"You don't know if you want to do this?" Louis asks him. Zayn swallows harshly, then gives a minuscule nod. Louis looks back the way they came. They've probably been walking for twenty minutes, half an hour. They could turn back now, Zayn can go home, Louis can get his crown and he can get out before he finds himself trapped in some other extremely weird deal. So, Louis puts on his best sad-face, slings an arm around Zayn's skinny frame (to which Zayn flinches) and sighs. "That's perfectly alright, Zayner. The world's a big, scary place. If I had the choice to live in isolation, trust me, I would. We can turn back now, if you want, and I can get my crown and we can go back to our lives like nothing ever—“

"No." Zayn interrupts softly. "You're taking me to the lanterns."

Louis deflates. He scrunches his face up in a way that Zayn can't see. But, he gets an idea.

"That's a lad! Onwards and upwards!" He steps away from Zayn, but remains close. "But, the trek to where you want to go is quite far and I'm not sure if you have the stamina for it."

"I can go back and get some—?”

"Too late for that now!" Louis reassures, placing a hand on Zayn's back. He tenses under the touch. "Come, I'll show you my favourite place to eat."

But Zayn looks at him skeptically, "At this late at night?"

"The thing with pubs, babe, is that the later the better."

It's filled with criminals and backed into the shadiest part of town, which is why he knows police don't dare come close, since they'd be eaten alive. Literally.

He figures that if Zayn's already second-guessing this, the pub they're about to enter will surely make him scream and run back home. It's a perfect plan.

Louis swings open the door and is immediately met with tables of guys looking at them. He hears Zayn gasp behind him, and Louis smirks.

"C'mon," Louis cocks his head inside. Zayn's eyes are blown wide. "C'mon, this is the safest place I know!"

They enter, Louis leading the way and Zayn following hesitantly behind, fry-pan gripped for dear life.

"They look scary." Zayn whispers as every burly man in the place stares them down.

Some have muscles big enough that they could squeeze Louis and Zayn with one hand each. Some even have knives strapped to their belts. Deep gashes on their faces, dried blood on their knuckles, some sitting with suits on and a smoky cigar looking like the most powerful people in the world.

Louis would be lying if he said he wasn't absolutely shaking in his boots, too.

They finally make it to the bar, and that's when Louis realises this is the worst mistake he's made in his life, by far.

"You're Louis Tomlinson." The bartender says, or, more-so, growls.

“I—I'm not." Louis replies instantly, clearing his throat. Zayn looks at him, quick with fear and confusion. "Not sure where you got that from, but—“

A quick, dark look from the bartender tells Louis he should shut up immediately, "Are you telling me, that this," He's presented with a phone in his face, a news article on the screen, showing him his own candid face with the caption: Serial criminal Louis Tomlinson. If found, please contact police immediately. Large reward promised. "Isn't you?"

"Ah," Louis chokes out. He can feel the room becoming smaller, can feel eyes on his back, can see out of the corner of his eye someone standing and leering towards him.

"Louis." Zayn whispers harshly, warning.

"See that, right there, is actually my stupid brother."

"Lou-eh." Zayn whispers, louder, annunciation more prominent.

"But, uh," Louis throws on a smile, begins to back away from the bar, "You know, I'm not really, uh… we might go—“

He bumps into something. It's most definitely one of the burly guys. He turns, finding a man twice his size in every way possible. He quickly chances a look at Zayn, who looks like he's about to faint at any second.

“You’re the criminal everyone’s talking about.” He says, almost bearing his teeth. “You stole the Prince’s crown.”

“Ay! We get big money if we hand him in, right?” Another one yells from across the bar. Louis feels his stomach fall to his feet.

“But, h—hey, if you hand me in, the police will notice you, too. Yeah? Criminals aren’t welcome in those parts.” Louis attempts, thinking quickly. His own voice sounding the least masculine it’s ever sounded. He might be shaking, too, he’s not really sure.

“He’s right.” Zayn says, strangely confident. Louis doesn’t chance another look at him, instead lets his eyes roam around the room, searching for a way out. “They’ll have your faces memorised. Instead of a prize, you might get caught.”

The bar simmers to low whispers, some nodding in consideration, some turning away out of disinterest now and others still looking at the two of them with distaste. The guy that Louis bumped into is doing the latter.

“And who the fuck are you?” He cocks his head at Zayn, who’s still trying to make it seem like he’s not petrified. “Are you a criminal?”

Zayn shakes his head. “No.”

“Then why aren’t you handing him in and getting the money?”

A collective round of “yeah”’s and “what’s that about?”’s are heard throughout the bar. This time, Louis does look at him, and Zayn’s looking back.

He shrugs. “Don’t care, really. He’s taking me to see the lanterns tomorrow night, so.”

It’s said like it’s supposed to justify his actions—his nonchalance of getting mountains of money to a pack of cash-thirsty criminals —and Louis winces. He thinks one of two things will happen. One, they’ll all start laughing, thinking it’s a complete joke and that Zayn actually has an ulterior motive, like he helped Louis steal it. Two, they’ll assume that it’s a date, or something, and proceed to “bash the gay out” of them, as it was so kindly put the last time it happened.

Either way, they’re fucked. And a fry-pan can only do so much.

“The lanterns!” A deep voice comes from the back of the room and Louis waits for the collective cackle or the first hit to the jaw. What he doesn’t expect, though, is a sigh from the same person. “I loved them as a kid. I can’t watch them closely anymore, ever since I got banned from that damn place.”

“My family always used to take me, every year.” The bartender chips in, drying one of the glasses. “They’re so amazing up close.”

Louis doesn’t even have time to process the turn of events, because suddenly a wave of nostalgia hits the room and it’s story-time.

“My favourite part is when they’ve all been released and the sky is just full of them, lighting up and floating above your head.”

“One year I actually got to hold one. Best year of my life, probably.”

Then the chatter escalates and there’s laughter and drinks cheering and Louis feels more fear in himself now than when he was confronted. He looks at Zayn, who’s now observing the room with a small smile on his lips and his arms crossed.

A smaller man in a suit comes over to the two of them. He’s scrawnier than the rest, and a little old from what Louis can tell. He’s looking at Zayn before he talks to him, and Louis really doesn’t know how to act right now.

“You’ll love it, mate.” He taps Zayn’s shoulder lightly with his fist and Zayn gives him a nod before Louis is acknowledged. The old man looks at him a lot more stern than how he looked at Zayn. “Now, you. Be stealthy out there, alright? You’ve got a lot of balls going back there after stealing something like that.”

Louis swallows and tries to find his voice. “I will.”

The man seems like he’s satisfied with Louis’ answer, and opens his mouth to say something else, but he’s interrupted by the sounds of tires against gravel outside, and a loud shout of, “It’s the police!”

“Fuck.” Louis breathes.

“Lou,” Zayn says beside him, fear present with the way he’s gripping his weapon again, “What's going on?”

Louis searches rapidly, looking for a back entrance, a window, a bathroom. But he realises the pub would be heavily surrounded by cops, realises Liam would have reported back to the force and now this place will be searched leaf by leaf. No bathroom or window could help them now.

“Come with me.” The burly one Louis bumped into says simply. Louis and Zayn share a glance. They both shrug and follow mindlessly, since they don’t really have any other choice, and that’s when the door opens.

“We’re looking for Louis Tomlinson.” The policeman says, loud enough for the whole bar to hear.

Louis doesn’t chance a look behind him. He knows the criminals are blocking the policeman’s view of him, but any wrong eye on his face could end them.

“This leads out to the dam.” Burly-guy says, pointing to a trap-door.

“Dam?” Zayn asks.

“Let’s go.” Louis says, opening up the trap-door that reveals a long, long hallway with minimum to none light. He goes in first, knowing that Zayn needs to see that it’s safe.

Zayn lingers a little, but eventually gives Burly a smile and says, “Thank you for this.”

A grin is given in return, “Of course. Us people have to stick together.”

Then they hear a few more cops enter, asking for everyone to give any information and that they’ll search this entire place from head to toe. Louis moves fast, and eventually they’re both back on their feet, underground with steady hearts.        

“God,” Louis exhales, feeling like he can finally relax. “That was close.”

Zayn remains silent.

~

Still shaken and a little bit annoyed, he remains by Louis’ side anyway.

“That was close.” Louis says, relieved.

Zayn doesn’t look at him. Instead, he keeps his head down and continues to walk a little bit in front. He’s still scared, still unsure of what’s down this dim-lit hallway and what it leads to. He wishes it was bright enough, open enough so he could charge ahead, leave Louis behind for a little bit. Maybe leave him behind altogether and find someone else that will direct him to where he needs to go.

His anger must be blatantly obvious, because Louis stops in his tracks mid-step, and Zayn can literally hear him think.

“Hang on,” He says, confusion in his voice, “Are you mad?”

Zayn can’t help but let out a small laugh with a shake of his head. Really?

He hears Louis quicken his strides and he falls in step with Zayn, looking hard at his profile.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Zayn breathes in and out in one quick movement, then stops. He looks at Louis dead-on, “Are you serious? You trick me into going into some place for food, telling me that this is the safest place you know, and then almost gets us killed because apparently you’re the most wanted criminal that everyone’s searching for?”

Louis scrunches his face up, caught guilty. He runs a hand through his hair, “Okay, yeah, I may have fucked up on that part, but—”

“You took me somewhere that you knew would scare me.”

Louis sighs. “I did. I did... I—look, I’m sorry. It was a dick move.” They continue walking, slower this time. Zayn starts to bite the inside of his cheek, the tension growing. Then Louis’ bumping into Zayn’s arm playfully with a smile, asking, “Did it work, then?”

Zayn hates how it makes his lips quirk up a little, “I think you were more scared than me, actually.”

Louis lets out a laugh, “No shit! How was I to know they’d wanna kill me on the spot?” Zayn looks down at his feet, noticing how close they’ve gotten. “Besides, you’re the one with the deadly weapon.”

A loud crash is heard through the tunnel. It makes the dirt above them crack and fall. It sounds like a few pairs of feet running. Zayn stops breathing and Louis’ eyes widen with alarm.

“We need to run.” Louis warns, grabbing Zayn’s wrist without warning.

Zayn concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other, running as fast as he’s ever run in his life. And that’s not an exaggeration, he can’t remember the last time he’s had to run. Maybe when he was a child with too much energy? He’s not sure but he’s definitely certain that Louis’ an athlete because right now Zayn’s being dragged while he sprints like he’s flying.

“Louis! You’re going too fast!” Zayn shouts, sure he’s about to trip any second.

“C’mon, Zayn! We gotta get out of here!” Louis shouts back, not bothering to turn and face him.

Zayn’s led through the tunnel until they reach a corner. Thankfully, once they turn it a light is shown not too far away, leading out to what looks like an opening. Zayn picks up his speed, not focusing on anything else but getting out. Louis runs easily, breath not picking up in the slightest, as though he were merely walking.

They finally reach the opening but they don’t stop, there’s no door to block the exit. But then Zayn realises that’s not the only reason why they’ve stopped.

“Are you fucking serious?” Louis mutters under his breath.

They’re outside, on a rock that’s about thirty feet from the ground. Zayn steps closer to the ledge. There’s a ladder leading down to the bottom, a blocked off dam filled with water on the side, and a cave on the other side. Zayn thinks that’s their best bet.

Until two men rush out from under them—one tall and with short brown hair, dressed in a floral shirt and dark pants, the other with brown hair also with a white tee and jeans—both looking extremely angry.

“Shit.” Louis whines, grip on Zayn’s wrist tightening.

“Who are they?” Zayn asks.

“Uh,” Louis’ face scrunches up, “They don’t like me.”

At that, a bunch of people all in the same clothing as each other stumble out of the tunnel they just came through.

“And I’m guessing...”

“Yep,” Louis replies, backing away from them, “They definitely don’t like me, either.”

From the uniformed group, one boy breaks through wearing something different. “You’re mine, Tomlinson.”

Zayn feels his eyes go wide, “Who’s that?”

Louis sighs quickly in frustration, “Let’s just assume for the moment that everyone here doesn’t like me.”

Zayn nods, “You might need this, then.”

He presses the fry-pan to Louis’ hands, and Louis grabs it without hesitation. Zayn then leaves him to his own devices, making a run for it. Because if everyone here hates him, that must be Louis’ own wrong-doing, and Zayn’s not having any part of that.

So, he quickly shoots down the ladder that’s in-built into the rock, hearing Louis fight off people with the fry-pan.

The ladder feels slippery underneath his own hands, realising that’s how sweaty his palms have become.

“You should know,” Louis shouts over the noise of the fry-pan hitting bodies and other metals, “That this is the strangest thing I have ever done!”

Zayn doesn’t know if he’s talking to him, but he continues sliding down anyway. It’s when he reaches the bottom, though, that he sees the two men waiting for him.

“Who are you?” The blue-eyed one says, pure curiosity in his tone.

The taller one runs a hand through his hair, eyes looking at Zayn inquisitively.

Zayn frowns at them, “Who are you?”

“I’m Harry.” Tall one says with a big smile, hand out stretched to Zayn.

It gets slapped away by the other one. “He’s with Louis.”

“And this is Niall,” Harry says, throwing an arm around his friend, completely unfazed by Niall’s piece of information.

They’re all interrupted by the sounds of gunshots. The three of them duck immediately. Zayn’s heart almost stops, whipping his head back to see any sign of Louis at all. He can’t see anything from where he is.

What he does see, though, is holes in the from of gun shots pierced right through the wood barrier holding in the dam. Streams of water flow through them speedily and Zayn sees the pillars struggling against the sudden motion.

When another gun shot is heard, ricocheting off something metal—undeniably the fry-pan, therefore showing signs of Louis’ life—the three of them down below all heave a sigh of relief.

“Uh, Zayn?!” Louis yells from above the cliff, “Could use a bit of help up here!”

Zayn tries to think fast as a few more gunshots are heard and fly directly into the dam’s barrier again. It’s being pushed to its limits, Zayn can tell, and there’s only so much time before the whole thing bursts and this place fills with water.

He sees a large plank of wood lent up against the bit of rock, opposite the one Louis’ stood on. Two more gunshots, both hitting the fry-pan.

Zayn works fast. He runs over to the wood and pulls it away from the wall. But it’s far too long and heavy, Zayn straining to manipulate it in any way. Harry and Niall watch, both hesitating. It’s not until they hear a scream coming from above, and see Louis backed up to the edge of the cliff, foot slipping and rocks crumbling, when they rush to help him.

They manage to pull the plank of wood off one rock and onto the other, right where Louis’ foot slipped.

Zayn looks down at his own feet, now wet with water as it puddles around them. “Slide down!” Zayn shouts, before looking for the nearest exit.

Louis doesn’t think twice, He shuffles down the plank of wood, a very furious and out-of-bullets man that Zayn recognises as the one not in uniform following him.

Zayn hears a dull creak, and watches as the wood keeping in water looks as though it’s now seconds from breaking. He holds out his hand, willing for Louis to hurry up.

“Fuck!” Louis yells, being sure not to fall as his balance almost gives way. The fry-pan drops from his hands and Zayn manages to save it. He promptly puts it into his backpack, knowing they’ll have to move fast.

“Catch him!” Niall orders Harry, and they both run towards him.

Louis ends up jumping off, away from the two, and Zayn quickly follows him. Louis’ stopped, regaining himself but Zayn realises there’s no time for that. He runs passed, grabbing Louis’ wrist as he does so, and yanks him to the nearest exit that he can see.

Halfway there, he hears a loud snapping sound. And then the gush of water.

“Through here!” Louis shouts, as though that isn’t where Zayn’s already leading them.

They make it to the exit and they keep running when they feel water up to their knees. It isn’t until Zayn feels more rock that they stop. The water laps up to their waist now, rising higher and higher. Louis’ wrist falls from Zayn’s grip and they both search for where to go.

That’s when Zayn realises it isn’t an exit, but a dead-end.

“No.” Zayn shakes his head, ready to swim to leave but the water level has already blocked the way they came in, through the tunnel. It’s high enough that Zayn feels himself floating. He lifts his arm up, fingertips just touching the ceiling. “No.”

He dives down into the water, eager on swimming out. But he feels a hand tug on his shirt, pulling him back up to the surface. “There’s no point.” Louis tells him earnestly, “You won’t be able to see anything. It’s pitch black.”

“Bullshit.” Zayn bites back, shrugging Louis’ hand off his shirt. “I gotta try.”

He dips below the water again, but Louis’ right. The way they walked in was as thick as a house’s hallway, as extensive as one, too. He could swim for ages but it’d be going against the flow of the water and he’d be completely blind.

The realisation hits him. They’re going to die.

He swims above the water, watching the water level float up and up.

He feels his chest constrict, his eyes tearing. He looks at Louis, all content and ready, as though he knew this was coming.

“I’m so, so sorry.” Zayn chokes out, making Louis look at him in surprise, “I shouldn’t have dragged you to come with me, I shouldn’t have even left, I—”

“Hey, hey,” Louis says softly. How is he so calm? “We’re both at fault here, yeah? I shouldn’t have led you into that pub…” He shakes his head at himself. Then he nudges Zayn’s arm with his elbow, trying to cheer him up. “Just sucks we don’t have superpowers, eh?”

His lips turn up into a smirk and Zayn can’t help but let out a small chuckle. “I do. Sorta.”

“Oh, yeah?” Louis says, as though he’s playing along. Their heads bump into the ceiling as the water rises. It’s the first time Zayn catches the fear in Louis’ eyes. “What superpower would that be?”

“I can shoot gold that glows through my fingertips.” Zayn says matter-of-factly.

Louis’ head jerks back, eyebrows pinched as he looks at Zayn oddly. “That’s, uh, an interesting one. Personally, I’d go for invincibility, but…”

Louis keeps talking as the water touches Zayn’s chin but something clicks in Zayn’s mind all at once. He gasps with realisation. He can shoot gold that glows, for god’s sake.

Tilting his head so his mouth is still breathing, he hums the familiar tune. The one that he had to sing almost every day for his whole life. He only gets half-way through the song before he’s completely underwater but as expected, his gold, glowing liquid from his fingertips shine through the water, letting them see.

He sees Louis’ entire body fly back as he swears, eyes shooting open at the sight.

Zayn doesn’t waste any time. He tugs on Louis’ shirt and shines the light ahead of them, making it easy to swim out of the tunnel and to the surface.

~

They flop out of the water like fish, Zayn gasping for air as he climbs up the side of the riverbank. Louis, himself, is on a whole other level of pure shock.

So, one second he thought he was going to die. Accepted it, really. The next, he’s witnessing the weird boy from the tower shoot glowing gold from his very own fingertips.

Gold. That glows.

He breathes heavily from where he’s resting on the grass, legs still in the water. He doesn’t—can’t even begin to fathom what just happened.

And here’s Zayn now, just ridding the water from his clothes and shoes as though nothing out of the ordinary happened. As though having superpowers is completely normal. As though his fingertips aren’t fucking magic.

“You—you…” Louis pants, unable to even string a coherent sentence together. It doesn’t matter, though, because Zayn’s acting like Louis isn’t even there. “Wait a minute. Am I dead? Are we dead?”

Because it’s possible. In the last few seconds of life that he had, his mind could have twisted reality into a dream-like scenario where they actually live. Where they get out of an impossible situation in the weirdest way. Maybe Zayn’s last words were the prompt to a hallucination and they’re in limbo right now.

But then he hears Zayn snort and sees him shake his head. “No. We’re very much alive. And wet.”

Louis hauls himself up on the grass a bit more. He still feels alive. So.

Zayn shakes out his hair. He takes off his socks and twist them so the water drips out.

Finally standing up, Louis feels light-headed. Could be because of the many near-death experiences he’s gone through tonight. Or the fact that he hasn’t eaten or slept in over twelve hours. Or, you know, he just saw fingertips shoot out glowing gold like some weird Spider-Man-thing, right in front of him.

He definitely feels as though it’s the latter.

“That... That definitely just—”

“Yep.” Zayn tells him. “It did.”

“You saved us.”

Zayn looks up from where he’s putting his socks and shoes back on. His mouth slowly tilts upwards, eyes soft.

“You did.” Louis certifies, running his hands through his own wet hair. “Fuck.”

Zayn sniffs, “We should find somewhere to sleep, don’t you think?”

“Give me some time to compose myself, will you?” Louis asks, bracing his hands on his knees. He breathes in slowly, then out just as slow. He feels Zayn watching him. To think that stealing the Prince’s crown this afternoon would lead him here. “Jesus Christ.”

“Are you done?” Zayn asks.

“Yeah.” Louis decides, standing upright. “I’m done.”

~

They stumble upon a small clearing, one that has two logs next to each other, perfect to sit on. Louis sits on one immediately, sighing out in relief, finally getting to sit.

Zayn couldn't lie to himself, he was feeling exhausted. It'd been a long, busy day. He's sad that they're not already at the Palace and that he's not somewhere that other people can keep an eye on him. But for some reason he doesn't feel scared that he's alone in the woods with an almost-stranger. Isn't worried that as soon as he sleeps, Louis could run off and leave Zayn deserted, or worse.

He's not sure why, but he trusts him.

He takes a seat next to Louis on the log, and looks at him. Louis' got his eyes closed, face tilted up towards the stars. His shirt's ripped in more ways than one and his jeans look so dirty Zayn doesn't think there's any way of fixing them. There's also dried blood in different spots all over his body, and a new gash with fresh blood on the palm of his hand.

"You're bleeding." Zayn points out.

Louis opens one eye, first, looking at Zayn with a frown. Then he opens the other and tilts his head as he inspects his hand.

"Hm, look at that." Louis says, "Add that to my list of injuries, won't I?"

Zayn shifts so he's facing Louis more, and holds out his own hand. "Here."

Louis glances at Zayn's hand, then at Zayn's eyes, then back again. It's like he's unsure whether Zayn's serious or not. Then he places his own hand in Zayn's and Zayn can hear him inhale ever so softly.

Zayn raises his other hand, fingertips dancing over the gash as he hums the special tune. On cue, the gold light shines from his fingers and onto the wound, making it heal up and fix the skin almost immediately.

When Zayn's happy with it, he looks at Louis and almost laughs at the expression he's met with. Gaped mouth with a jaw almost hitting the ground and eyes as wide as dinner plates.

It's only when Zayn stops holding his hand, that he comes back to reality.

Louis shakes his head, "Whoa." He breathes, shaking his head once more. He looks at Zayn's eyes, his own replicating something like wonder, and something else Zayn can't describe. "What are you?"

Zayn swallows. He fidgets in his position and can't help the frown that forms on his face. He's always known that he's been different, always known that his life isn't normal in the slightest, even when he's been separated from normal, he's known. But it's something he hasn't been prepared for—the day he exposes himself to someone and they react to it.

"No, I mean—I didn't..." Louis stutters out, eyes squeezed shut, "That wasn't meant to sound hurtful, in any way. I'm really amazed. That was... Fucking incredible."

Zayn picks up the honesty in his words, in the way he looks at him. It makes Zayn dip his head a little and he can feel his cheeks warm slightly even though the night’s cold. Which reminds him,

"Should we, uh, get a fire going, or—“

"Oh! Yeah," Louis responds, standing up suddenly as though he was broken from some kind of trance, "Yeah, I'll grab some firewood."

~

He not only can shoot gold from his fingers like some sort of magician, but he can heal things with it. God, no wonder he was so sure Louis was there to kidnap him.

He checks out his hand again. Yep, it's definitely healed and looking perfect. Amazing.

It makes him wonder why Zayn didn't just do that to cure the gash on his abdomen. Maybe he didn't think Louis would be worth such a good job, wasn't important enough. Does that mean he's changed his mind on Louis, now?

He shakes his head. He's only keeping him alive, and healthy, so Louis doesn't drop dead and abandon him.

Louis adds a thick block of wood to the pile under his arm. He's already got a few sticks and there's some grass that's dry enough back where they're sitting.

He turns back to Zayn, concentrating on holding everything with his, admittedly, not-so-big arms.

He wonders if Zayn thinks he's a little bit pathetic, compared to Liam and Harry and Niall, and all the police as well as all the criminals in the bar. Louis scoffs to himself, of course he thinks that.

Zayn has one dream, and he just so happened to stumble on possibly the worst person to escort him.

Fuck, Louis scolds to himself, Why do you care?

"Hey," Louis calls once he goes back to their spot, "Your fingertips don't happen to start fires, too, do they?"

When he doesn't get a response, Louis looks up at him. Zayn's standing, facing away from him and looking towards the woods. His body looks tense, scared.

Louis drops the firewood immediately and rushes over to him, "Zayn, what happened?"

Zayn blinks twice before he looks at him. "I think I... Think I saw a wolf, or something."

"Ah," Louis says, relief filling him more than he'd like to admit. He pats Zayn on the shoulder, and this time, Zayn doesn't flinch or tense up from it. "Not to worry, mate, wolves don't really stroll around these parts. Though, wouldn't be the worst thing. I'm starving."

Zayn's eyes widen, "You eat wolf?"

Louis laughs, a big belly-laugh that even surprises himself, "No, of course not."

The relief on Zayn's face turns into a small smile at the joke. Louis counts it as a win.

Louis shuffles the firewood to a place somewhere in between the two logs. Zayn sits down on one and watches as Louis works.

Having to live from job to job, it's lucky Louis' picked up a few handy tips along the way. It's lucky, because he manages to get the fire up and running in no time and if he wasn't confident, he would've looked like such an incompetent fool in front of Zayn.

And, God, Louis wants to stab himself. Why the fuck do you care?

"So," Zayn begins as Louis sits on the other log. Zayn looks at the fire but his face is tilted towards Louis', questioning.

"So." Louis repeats.

"Why do all those people hate you?"

Louis lets out a small laugh. He twists his mouth a little as he picks up a stick long enough so that he can prod at the fire from where he's sitting. "That's a, uh, fairly intrusive question coming from someone who won't tell me anything about their life."

He expects Zayn to be taken aback, to retreat back into his shell. Instead, he leans forward so his elbow is resting on his knee, his chin in his hand, and blinks once at him.

"You now know I shoot gold shit from my fingertips that glow in the dark and heal human flesh." He says simply, face dead-pan. "Now spill."

Louis stills. He finds it hard to not burst out in laughter. He's tired and probably verging on hysterical at this point—could anyone blame him?

He lets out a breath, raising his brows as he does so, "Well, you've got me there." He clears his throat. "Erm... Let's see." He tries to fit his thoughts in order, tries to find a way to say it without making it seem like he isn't a total dropkick who does what he does because he doesn't have an education, or any working experience in the slightest. But then he realises, on a whim, that he couldn't give a shit how it sounds. "I steal from people, Zayn, and then I sell it to other people that give me enough money to last me until my next theft. And, you know, living like that you're gonna get a name for yourself and people that hate you along the way, so."

He shrugs, his eyes never leaving the fire. He prods at it as an afterthought, not wanting to meet Zayn's eyes.

"Why do you do it?"

It's said so softly. An almost-whisper that's said apologetically. And, fuck, he didn't ask for sympathy.

"I just do, yeah?" Louis replies, prodding a little harder. "And I'm bloody good at it."

"It'll get you killed."

Louis laughs in his throat, sits back a little on the log, cocks his head to the side, "Yeah, it might. Almost did, didn't it?"

The silence that follows builds between them. Louis swallows harshly. He chances a look to Zayn. What he finds is a downcast of lashes, his mouth twisted uncomfortably, a frown forming.

Then he looks up, and the shine of his eyes makes Louis' breath hitch. He looks away immediately.

"Don't you care?"

Louis takes a second to digest the question. Care about what? The people he's stealing from? The frustration he puts authorities through to catch him? The amount of people that hate him? Of course he cares. But it's Zayn's tone of voice, the delicate way he phrases it, the emphasis on the last word as though it were a personal insult that makes it sound like he means something else entirely. And then Louis understands.

Don't you care that you'll die?

Louis scoffs, "Not at all. Nobody would if I did, would they? Why should I?"

It'd be rejoiced, when it happens. The police, the royal family, the civilians and the like will have a party. They'd probably release fucking lanterns the night it happens, put it on the calendars as the day the town's menace was finally put to rest.

It's the late-night brain talking, Louis knows. It's the depressed thoughts that come now and then—usually when he's alone and sitting in an alleyway because he hasn't made a sale in enough time. But he knows that when he wakes up and he's at it again, he'll be twice as fast and twice as great because his pride's too large to let them win.

But today, as he's realised the amount of people out to get him, he knows he'll lose soon.

"I'm knackered." Louis says, shifting the mood. Zayn hasn't said a word, and this time Louis' too afraid to look at him again.

They lie down next to the logs, besides the fire, and Louis waits until he hears the soft breaths of Zayn's fall into a steady, even rhythm before he closes his eyes.

~

"Get off me you gremlin!"

"You're coming with me, Tomlinson."

Zayn blinks glaringly awake. He finds next to him Louis on the ground, batting away a familiar person that's attempting to drag him by his foot.

"Bullshit I am!" Louis replies, kicking until he's free.

"What the hell?" Zayn manages to say.

The two boys stop what they're doing and whip their heads around to look at Zayn, expressions looking like they got caught doing something they shouldn't.

"Sir, I am obligated to take Louis to the police."

Louis scoffs. "Obligated." He gestures to the man lazily, "What makes you think I'd even come with you? Where's your gun, Liam? You don't even have a bloody badge."

Zayn sits up slowly, back aching a bit from sleeping on bumpy grass. He judges Liam's expression—a sudden realisation mixed with embarrassment, then finally settling on a new-found anger towards Louis.

"Alright," Zayn says, intervening before anything happens, "Liam, is it?"

Liam's flared nostrils relax as he looks at Zayn, then nods. He steps towards him, hand outstretched. "Officer Payne."

Zayn looks at his hand curiously, he figures it's there to help him up, so he takes it and uses it to pull him to his feet. He watches as Louis stifles a laugh. Then Liam's frowning a little before he shakes his hand firmly.

"I'm Zayn." He says, stepping towards him as they drop their hands. He looks at Louis, who's still on the ground, eyeing them both as though he's anticipating what's to come. Zayn turns his attention back to Liam, "I need you to not take him just yet."

Liam blinks. "Uh, with all due respect—“

"It's my birthday." Zayn adds, letting a hand rest softly on Liam's forearm. "And all I want is to go to the palace and watch the lanterns."

Liam's eyes don't stray from Zayn's but it takes him a while to respond, his gaping mouth taking a while to work. "Well, that's, uh, nice."

"Yeah," Zayn agrees, letting his fingertips run up and down Liam's arm slowly, knowing that this make Liam like him better. Or so he’s read. ”And I need Louis to take me. So, could we hold off this whole arrangement until tomorrow?" Zayn makes a show of batting his eyelashes, "I'll even hand him in myself."

"Oh, so I'm just an object or something now, am I?" Louis frowns, standing up to try and make himself more seen. "You can't just palm me off to the next man, I'm a—“

He's promptly shut up by Liam's swift punch to the stomach. Louis keels over with a groan.

"Fine." Liam agrees. "But I'll be the one to take you both there and I also have to keep a close eye the entire time, alright?"

Zayn feels himself smile. He drops the hand on Liam's arm to his side. "Perfect."

"And just how will you take us there, Lee-yum?" Louis mocks from his bent over position. Jesus, Zayn thinks. He's really begging to be kicked when he's down, isn't he? "You're gonna lead the way?"

"I'm gonna drive you there." Liam tells him.

Zayn tries to contain his excitement. Driving? In a car? He's heard about this, the way you can move so fast that you feel the wind in your hair, the sound of the motor when it's running, the cushioned seats and the radio that plays music.

But Louis lets out a laugh. He stands up straight through the pain, and places his hands on his hips, "So you lost everything in the water except for your keys?"

Liam bites the inside of his cheek, "Yeah, do you wanna see 'em?"

Louis throws him a smile, "I'd love to."

To which Liam shoves a hand in the pockets of his jeans—only to bring out his middle finger.

"Wow, mature!" Louis laughs. Zayn rolls his eyes. Liam begins walking. "Look at me, I'm Big Payno, leader of the playground."

Louis keeps mocking behind them as Zayn and Liam walk in front. Zayn tries his hardest to tune him out.

"Ignore him." Zayn says quietly, bumping his hip to Liam's.

At this, Liam cracks a smile, "Can I ask why you chose him to take you?"

Zayn shrugs, "Was the first person I saw."

Liam finds this hilarious, apparently, because his head falls back as he laughs. Zayn doesn't get it, but he smiles anyway.

“You’re so, uh,” Liam laughs quietly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck, “I don’t mean to sound abrupt, but you’re gorgeous. I mean, you look identical to the King, I swear.”

“Oh?” Zayn quirks a brow, a little taken aback from the compliment. He has no idea what any of the Royals look like, but they must be quite attractive, according to Liam. “Thank you.”

"Have you moved here from somewhere?" Liam asks, "I mean—is that why you haven't seen the lanterns before?"

Zayn sniffs, considers telling him the truth. “Uh—"

"Where is this car, Liam?" Louis complains behind them, thankfully interrupting. "If we're walking forever until the nearest road I think we'd be better off just walking straight to the bloody palace, anyway.”

Liam groans inwardly and Zayn catches him as his jaw tenses. Zayn looks back at Louis, who's looking up at the tall trees surrounding him.

"How about you go on ahead," Zayn tells Liam, "I'll occupy this one."

Liam breathes in steadily, his eyes darting around as he thinks. They settle on Zayn's and says, "Alright, but if I even get the inkling that you're straying—“

"Don't worry about it," Zayn smiles, placing his hand on Liam's shoulder, "We won't go anywhere."

Liam nods once and Zayn slows his steps until he's in line with Louis', who's looking at him in question.

"Why do you want to make this hard for us?" Zayn asks him, voice low and quiet and out of Liam's earshot.

Louis frowns and looks at him, exasperated. "Well, my apologies for not wanting to be 'handed over' as soon as the deal is done."

“Louis—"

"What happened to our deal, then?" Louis asks, his tone a bit hurt. "Did that just go to shit as soon as you saw a guy you liked?"

Zayn's head involuntarily jerks back in question, "What?"

Louis sighs and shakes his head and Zayn doesn't know if that's to him or himself. "Never mind."

He thinks back to last night. He doesn't know why, but he does. He thinks back to Louis becoming closed off, talking about his life but only just. He thinks back to how hearing him talk about himself like that made Zayn's chest hurt in a way he couldn't describe.

Nobody would if I did, would they?

It had made Zayn think. He wanted so badly to say that he would. He would care. And it's scary, knowing that. That if Louis were to die, Zayn would most definitely care. And how is it that he would, but Louis wouldn't?

He realises that Louis doesn't know Zayn even thinks twice about him, from what he's aware.

But Zayn had to be careful. His mother had surprised him last night for a reason. She had the crown—which she had given to him to keep—told Zayn that Louis was only doing what he's doing because of it.

And Zayn hadn't second-guessed it, knew exactly what his mother was saying was true. But he woke up this morning and Louis was still there beside him.

Zayn stops in his tracks and holds out his hand so Louis bumps into it and stops, too. Zayn looks at him with earnest, and it's heartbreaking to see Louis look so sad, like he believes Zayn would throw it all away.

"We still have our deal, yeah?" Zayn tells him, "This was the only way we could get him off our backs for a while."

Louis' face etches into worry, "Zayn, you're way too gullible. Who's to say he's not gonna just driver us straight to the police station? Or an organised ambush?"

Zayn blinks, looks towards Liam who's a few feet away. "Okay... How about, when you see him going off track, we'll knock him out," Zayn says, bringing out the fry-pan from his backpack, "And you can take the wheel."

He smiles, satisfied, and it grows when he sees Louis nod, eyes flashing with mischievousness as he takes the weapon from him.

"But only when it's necessary, alright?" Zayn warns.

"Alright." Louis complies, stringing out the word in a higher-pitch than normal as he flips the fry-pan and catches it in one hand, "I'll obey."

"Good."

~

"Wow," Zayn sighs in amazement, running his hands over the dashboard of the car, "Do you drive it everywhere?"

And Liam just looks so smug. Small smile perched on his lips as though he's not just about bursting at Zayn's wonder. Taking advantage of it, is what he is. He doesn't realise Zayn doesn't know about cars because he's been trapped in a tower, doesn't know that he's amazed by this second-hand, standard vehicle because it's the only one he's ever seen in real life. Doesn't know much about Zayn at all, really, but he's looking at him like he's the best thing he's ever seen.

Louis' stolen many cars in his lifetime, actually. Ones that purr when you bring it to life, ones that go so fast you feel like you're flying, with seats so brand new the smell of them alone is enough to make you feel rich and powerful. He bets Zayn would kill to be in one of those.

"Could we hurry it up, then?" Louis interrupts Liam mid-sentence of some boring explanation about indicators, and Liam almost jumps at Louis' voice, as though he'd completely forgotten about him in the few minutes they got into the car. "Yes, I'm still here."

"Louis," Zayn says, looking at him, "We've got all day."

Liam clears his throat. "We'll get started, then."

Louis at Zayn, then looks out the window, knuckles idly tapping against it slowly. He knows he looks like a stroppy toddler, like he was denied a stop off at McDonald's or something, but it was supposed to be him escorting Zayn. However fucked up that sounds.

"Ready?" Liam says with a smile, hand on the keys in the ignition.

He sees from the corner of his eye, Zayn's own eyes remaining on Louis for a few more seconds, before his head turns back to Liam.

He must nod, because Liam starts the car and the noisiness of it coming to life is louder than Louis had expected, but Zayn seems to think the louder the better because he brightens with astonishment.

"Sick!"

Louis rolls his eyes and slumps further in his chair. He can see Liam's expression in the review mirror and it's everything Louis thought it'd be—a modest smile fighting a bigger one and eyes fighting not to look at Zayn every damn second.

It might be an exaggeration. Louis can admit that much. Liam's probably just happy someone's paying him good attention, maybe. Or that he's actually doing something worthwhile instead of training or letting people down. And Louis might be on a new level of bitter.

The entire car ride has everything to do with Zayn asking lots of questions about the car, the town, a little about Liam's life (although, to be fair, those last questions were purely out of politeness), Liam soaking up every minute and talking animatedly about everything he has the knowledge to. Louis can also admit that he doesn't seem like such a bad guy. He also mentioned a "missus", too. So, there's that.

Louis feels like a bit of a bummer—sitting in the backseat with his eyes constantly on the world outside, not saying a word—but he's making sure Liam's following through completely. And so far, as the palace is merely minutes away, Louis gathers that Liam is.

"It's massive," Zayn gawks, sitting up straighter in his seat, "Who needs that much space?"

Louis splutters out a laugh and Liam does, too. Zayn turns around and looks at both of them.

"What?"

Louis hates the way himself and Liam shrug in unison. But Zayn's obliviousness of his wonderment and the odd question makes Louis' heart go soft in a way that sort of scares him.

They enter the palace in Liam's cop car, completely undercover and completely unsuspecting from the hundreds of guards facing the outside perimeter. Louis still feels beyond nervous, though. He's sure that everyone within this place would have his face etched to the back of their eyelids in hopes that they'd catch him and therefore become millionaires.

"They release the lanterns at seven, usually. So we have time to walk around and that." Liam tells Zayn, finding a car park. "Louis, as long as you keep your head down and stick close to me, you won't be caught."

Louis raises his brows, dissatisfied, "Gotta wait till you hand me in yourself, right. Got it."

Once they park and Liam stops the car, Zayn opens the door eagerly. The sounds of a party atmosphere surrounds them, music mixed with laughter fill the air, it sounds so inviting and exciting that Louis can't wait for Zayn to enter.

They walk into the palace, Zayn leading and taking everything in whilst Louis and Liam linger behind—Liam not straying in fear that Louis will leave, and Louis not daring to make himself seen with the risk of getting caught so high—and he watches as kids run around with streamers or fairy floss, screaming with happiness as their parents watch fondly. Louis gets hit with a wave of nostalgia, remembering the first time he came here with his own family, only very young.

He hasn't been since, really. Never saw the point in it, never understood the hype of it all. Always watched from the street, listened to it in the background. But now, here, as he walks through the palace's courtyard—Zayn suddenly being taken away by a group of kids as they lead him to their artworks on the ground made with chalk—Louis kind of regrets not coming here more often.

Zayn looks up at Louis as he starts to draw his own drawings on the concrete, the group of kids watching on. He looks so happy, smiling at Louis in a somewhat silent thanks, and Louis can't help but smile back just as warmly, his stomach flipping only just.

Liam taps Louis' hip slightly, enough for Louis to break Zayn's eye contact. When he looks at Liam, he's got a smirk on his face, watching Zayn.

"You've got a good one, there." Liam says.

Louis' initial reaction is probably the worst one; "What the fuck are you on about, mate?"

Liam almost laughs, startled, ”I'm talking about Zayn." And then he frowns, looks at Louis with confusion, "Wait, aren't you guys—?”

"No?" Louis replies immediately at the insinuation. He almost looks at Liam with repulsiveness, then he looks at Zayn, who's chuckling gorgeously at something a little girl drew. Louis shakes himself out of it instantly. "No, we're not."

Liam readjusts his stance against where they're both leaning against one of the many stores. "Why not?"

Louis can't help but scoff, "Are you out of your mind? C'mon, Liam. I knew you were dumb, didn't think you'd be this dumb."

Liam cocks his head to the side, face showing sudden disinterest, and then doesn't say anything more.

Louis shifts his weight, looks down at his shoeless feet as his hands press together, flicks his fringe to the side once, and licks over his teeth before sighing louder than expected. "Fine." He says, unknowingly talking, "It's because I'm a criminal, maybe? And Zayn’s…" He stops, shakes his head at himself as he changes his mind. “Actually, you know what? You can shut up."

Louis steps a foot away Liam, who looks nothing short of bewildered as though he'd just been whiplashed.

"What just happened?" Liam asks, more-so to himself.

Louis huffs, arms crossed over his chest. Screw Liam and his train of thought. Screw him for even mentioning something like that and putting it in Louis' head even though he knows he's getting put away on death row as soon as this is over. God, Zayn probably doesn't even know what that is. Doesn't know that even after he returns Zayn back safely and Louis gets the crown, it'll be almost impossible to leave the town without getting captured—however quick Louis may be.

And as he looks at Zayn now—all soft smiles and crinkly eyes—Louis wonders, once again, if that piece of jewellery is even worth it.

~

They spend the day watching people dance and enjoying their time throughout the palace and Zayn can't get enough of it. It's nothing like he thought the world would be. He had created this atmosphere of fear and crime and ugliness in his mind, expanded it to something unliveable in the way his mother had always told him. But to see things like this, nothing but joy and togetherness, Zayn has a glimpse to what he'd be like if he had lived normally.

And if he thinks about leaving the tower forever—well, nobody had to know.

They've bought candy and drinks that fizz on his tongue, they've talked to store owners and friendly passerby's, they've walked and walked until they've gone the whole way round, back to where they've started and Zayn should be tired. He should be ready to go and feeling as though his feet are about to fall off (Liam even bought Louis a brand new pair of shoes, after an argument that started by Liam complaining about smelly feet, and Louis rebutting with a very mature “well, we all can’t be highly-respected members of authority, Officer Payne.”). But the sun's beginning to set and the excitement he feels acts as his own source of caffeine.

It's an hour until he sees the lanterns.

"I can't wait." Zayn tells Louis, "I can't believe I finally get to see it."

"Yeah," Louis replies, voice on the softer side, huskier, "You'll love it."

He smiles that smile that makes Zayn feel like it's only for him. And it's odd, Zayn's noticed, in the way that Louis' acted since they got here.

He's not his usual self. He's less energetic, less bouncy, less snappy. He doesn't chat back Liam with bitterness or bring the attention back on him. He's more quiet, more observant, more soft in the way he looks and speaks and is. It's weird, but it makes Zayn feel a sense of warmth within him all the same.

"Hey," Liam says, stopping the two of them from walking. "Let's go in here for a bit, yeah? I'll buy us a round."

Zayn looks at the store they've stopped in front of. Though, it's not a store. Rather a pub with the title Queen of Hearts.

"Uh," Louis says, louder than he has been in the past few hours, a frown on his face as he looks at Liam, then to Zayn, before settling on Liam again, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Yeah?" Liam says with a half-hearted shrug, "Why wouldn't it be?"

With nothing but Louis fish-mouthing in response, they all walk into the pub, the crowd a lot more friendly than the first one he and Louis entered.

Zayn tells him as much, and Louis laughs, but it comes off a lot more nervous than usual.

One beer down and Zayn has to blink to make sure his eyes settle on Louis steadily. God, he really must be tired.

"Not to be rude, but," Zayn begins, looking at the froth left over in his glass, "This stuff is disgusting."

Liam chuckles as Louis smiles and looks at him with something Zayn would describe as fond. Fond? Zayn shakes his head at himself. Why would he be looking at him like that?

"You've never had beer?"

Zayn picks his head up and looks at Liam. "No."

"Shit, how old are you?"

"Settle, Payno." Louis tells him, rolling his eyes, "He's legal, it's his nineteenth birthday today. Remember?”

He did tell him how old he is, actually. After they swam out from danger and walked along the woods before finding somewhere appropriate to crash. It was the most flippant comment Zayn's ever said, probably.

Zayn finds himself smiling.

“Of course!” Liam gasps, eyes wide, “I completely forgot!”

He didn't think people made it much of a deal, but apparently Liam does, because he's calling another round of drinks.

"Do you really have to do that?" Louis asks Liam, looking at Zayn pointedly again. Maybe he thinks they're disgusting, too.

But this time, instead of the pint of beer, small little glasses come out with liquid that looks like water.

Zayn questions it, but shrugs it off. Maybe this is a weird tradition.

"Happy birthday, Zayn!" Liam grins, picking up a tiny glass before holding it towards him.

Louis says the same, with less enthusiasm, but rests his glass against Liam's. Zayn copies so their glasses are all pressed against each other, then he watches as Liam and Louis knock the bottom of their glass to the table before bringing it to their mouth where they drink the whole thing at once. Zayn blinks.

"Now," Louis begins, looking at him earnestly, "You don't have to do that if you don’t—"

But Zayn's already doing it, and he downs the water in a second. But the water definitely does not taste like water. More like acid that burns on the way down. Zayn scrunches his face up involuntarily in disgust.

“Alright?" Louis cringes.

Zayn opens his eyes, shakes his head as though that'd rid the taste, "That's fucking disgusting."

The darker it gets the louder the music around them seems to get. There's less children out now, probably huddled together just barely keeping their eyes open whilst the childless adults stick to the bar and down the gross drinks like it's nothing. Liam tries to order another round of beers, to which Louis firmly argues against, and Zayn doesn't know how much time passes but he suddenly feels very happy.

Louis' lent up against the bar, facing towards everyone, a sturdy eye not leaving Zayn for longer than a minute. Zayn finds himself laughing at other people, however unfunny they may be, and he also finds himself looking at Louis more often than not.

He remembers using the fry-pan to lift his hair out of his eyes whilst he laid unconscious on the wooden floors. And now he's here, the two of them unable to stray away from each other even though they can, Zayn's heart fluttering every time Louis so much as says his name.

Liam's gone, something about peeing, and Zayn leans right up against the bar, against Louis' side. His profile is so pretty, Zayn thinks.

"Thanks," Louis says, chuckling softly.

Zayn feels his cheeks heat up. So this liquidity stuff makes you talk out loud without realising. Hm.

"Thank you." Zayn insists, hand lazily finding Louis' upper arm from where they're folded tightly across his chest. "For taking me, and everything. I owe you."

This time, Louis laughs openly. He loosens up a little and Zayn's own mouth stretches into a smile.

"You owe me a crown, remember?" Louis tacts on, pointedly.

"Yeah." Zayn says. Because of course Louis' only doing this for the crown. Zayn doesn't need to thank him, they had a deal. Louis can't wait until the lanterns are up in the sky and he can drop Zayn off at the tower, collect what's unrightfully his and then leave for good.

The thought alone makes his stomach fall through the floor. Louis will be gone for good.

"D'ya need to pee or anything?" Liam asks out of nowhere, hands resting firmly on Louis and Zayn's shoulder. "Show's about to start."

"I might go." Zayn says quickly before squeezing through the built-up crowd and entering the quiet toilets. He looks in the mirror for the first time today and sees tired eyes with dishevelled hair and rosy cheeks. His clothes look a mess and he probably smells to everyone else around him, but, he's about to see the lanterns in the sky.

He finishes in the toilet and after splashing his face with a bit of water to freshen up, he enters back into the bar, the noise of people and music blasting in full force. He spots Liam almost straight away, tilting his head back a bit to drink another beer. Zayn thinks he might be superhuman, there's no way people drink that stuff willingly.

As he walks closer, he spots Louis, too.

Strolling up to him, Zayn grins. "Are we ready, then?"

Louis turns around and locks eyes with Zayn's straight away. He almost beams at him, crinkles forming at the sides of his eyes. Zayn wants to hug him.

They walk out of the bar into the warm night, a lot warmer than it was last night, and the sky's gotten significantly darker. It's a completely cloudless sky which makes the stars look a lot more brighter than they have been. He can't believe his mother told him the lanterns were stars.

~

Louis takes him out to where the boats are docked, a back area where people aren't seen and the water seems mostly clear. He doesn't want Zayn to see it just sitting on a park bench, or standing with his head tilted upwards, he wants to give him the best seat in the house.

He had spoken about it with Liam, in between Zayn flitting from one activity to the other, whilst Louis and Liam trailed behind watching on. Liam had disagreed at first, said that's far too easy for him to leave, but after another hour or so and a drink or two, Liam seemed more than happy to let them out on a boat while he remained at the dock.

Zayn, a smiley, giddy mess, has so much excitement radiating off him that Louis feels it, too. He's leaning against Louis as they walk, bumping shoulders side by side as he talks animatedly and Louis feels shameful when he feels like holding his hand.

"Where are you taking me?" Zayn asks happily, becoming more and more firmly attached at Louis' side.

"I wanted to give you a good view." Louis replies, looking at him.

He's a little pink in the cheeks from the alcohol—God, Liam just had to order another shot—and his pupils are wide as he looks back at Louis, lips wet and plump like they were just bitten.

Louis has to look away instantly.

"Don't go too far, alright?" Liam warns from behind them, and that's when Louis realises they've stopped at one of the boats already.

So, Louis gets aboard first, making sure the boat is steady enough. It's only small, ones that don't make the initial cut for the people wanting to go out on the water, but it's enough for the two of them.

It's definitely enough for Zayn, apparently.

"We're getting on a boat?" He asks, brows raised.

Louis nods, "We are."

"First a car, now a boat." He smiles wide, "Are we getting on a plane, next?"

Louis lets out a loud laugh, "Easy, tiger. One form of transportation at a time, yeah?"

The boat wobbles beneath them as Louis helps Zayn onto it. He can tell Liam's watching with a shit-eating grin on his face and Louis doesn't give him the satisfaction of looking at him but his own stomach does a flip as he realises how romantic this is.

As Zayn sits somewhere on the boat, Louis loosens the rope from the dock and uses the oar to propel them further into the river. The boat glides easily, automatically pulled to the middle of the vast space of water.

There's other, bigger boats surrounding them, some even ships that remind Louis of pirates. But they're all further away, secluding Louis and Zayn from the rest of them.

Which is when Louis looks at Zayn for the first time since they've gotten on the boat, and he immediately wishes he had just ignored him. Because Zayn's looking right back, the darkness of the night mixed with the distant lights from ships casting him in something magical.

He's got a dopey sort of smile, eyes looking at him in the most relaxed, content way Louis' ever seen him look. He looks inviting, is what it is.

"Uhm," Louis starts, averting his eyes towards Liam, who's only a faceless figure now, and simultaneously scratches his head. "So, after this—“

"Lou..." Zayn interrupts. Louis hears the nickname and it's the second time he's said it but the meaning and the way it sounds is so contrastingly different to the first time. "Don't, like, think about that, yeah?"

Louis swallows. His eyes still look relaxed but there's a hint of sadness, one that makes his heart pull. He's right.

"You're right." Louis nods, sitting down across from Zayn. "Let's just enjoy this."

There's a new sense of darkened anticipation in the air between them now, unspoken awareness of what's about to happen. Zayn will have to go back to his tower, and possibly remain there until God knows when. Louis will have to leave far away from here, start a new life in another town, another country, maybe. And that’s if he even has the chance to get out. One thing’s for sure, though. After this, Louis' won't see Zayn again.

The thought hurts him more than he'd like to admit.

"Zayn," Louis says as he stares at the water. He looks up at him and his train of thought halters slightly as he locks onto Zayn's eyes that are, again, already looking at him, a thoughtful yet puzzled expression on his face. "Why... Why have you never left that tower?"

Louis' had his suspicions, thought it was some kind of fear. He knows of a phobia that results to something similar. But then he thought back to the odd way his front door works. If it were a phobia, why not make it easily accessible to leave? Zayn also said he thought Louis was someone else when he let him in, so that means the other person is able to leave, but not him.

Zayn's fiddling with the hem of his jeans around his ankle as he bites a corner of his bottom lip. He sighs as he straightens his back, eyes looking out towards all the boats but his mind seems somewhere else entirely.

"Mum always thought it was, uh, better... If I never got to leave." Zayn says, looking back at Louis, his expression anxious as though the reaction would be something awful. Louis just waits, though, knows that there's more. "I've asked her to take me to the lanterns but she always got so mad at me for even bringing it up. That's why, like, when you came along..."

He trails off. Louis bites the inside of his cheek, trying not to frown. It sounds wrong.

"Zayn," Louis says, softly. He reaches out to him and places a hand on his knee, Zayn acknowledges it and doesn't flinch away, "You know that if you go back there—“

"Lou." Zayn says pointedly, looking at him with a slight smile, "I thought we weren't doing this now?"

Louis holds his gaze for a second longer. He wants to keep talking about it, figure out what they’re—what Zayn’s—going to do after this.

He can't bare the thought of Louis leaving him, just for Zayn to be held captive for the rest of his life. Now that Zayn's finally out and experiencing the world, Louis knows he won't be able to stay put in that tower forever.

However, he also knows life advice from a criminal isn't what Zayn needs, either.

An excited gasp and a sudden squeeze to his thigh jolts Louis from his thoughts. His eyes go directly to the hand that's firmly attached itself to the inside of his thigh. Then he notices the lighting above him and picks his head up, catching the way the first few lanterns join the sky, floating up gracefully. Lastly, and regretfully, he takes in Zayn.

Zayn, who's looking up with glistening eyes—ones that make Louis want to jump right off into the water, because his stomach’s doing flips and his heart’s fluttering as though that's an actual thing hearts do—and the smile on his face is so wide and genuine that Louis can't force himself to look away.

The hand remains on his thigh but Zayn doesn't seem to realise he's even rested his it there, so transfixed on the lanterns that he doesn't seem to acknowledge Louis' unashamedly staring eyes boring into the side of his face, either.

~

Zayn's seen it from miles away, only above the trees and little larger than stars, floating across the sky in a slow matter before disappearing into the night.

But here—below them and so, so close—Zayn feels like he's been transported into another world, he's never seen anything like it.

They're around him, above him, hundreds of lanterns propelled and lighting up the sky. One floats down a little lower, just about touching the water and Zayn almost tips the boat as he reaches out to it, Louis' hand bracing his hips so he doesn't fall out. Zayn touches the bottom of the lantern and brings it back up, letting it float away towards the moon.

He sits back down, next to Louis, and realises his own hand is still on his thigh, Louis' hand still bracing his hips.

"Happy birthday, Zayn." Louis whispers, a sweet smile on his lips.

They're so close like this, Louis' hand so warm as it rests there, his eyes blinking slow as he looks at him.

Zayn wants to say thank you, but he realises it's for much more than that. He takes a leap of faith and makes himself smaller against him, before finally resting his head on Louis' shoulder.

Louis hesitates for a second, and Zayn thinks he's not breathing, but then he tightens his arm around him and they sit there like that, both facing towards the lantern-lit sky and relaxing on each other.

"I'm glad you stole the crown." Zayn finds himself saying, fingertips fiddling with the inseam of Louis' jeans.

Louis lets out a small chuckle. "Yeah," He breathes, "Me too.”

They float in the water calmly, the faint sounds of wonderment heard from the boats a few feet away and the slight waves crashing together being the only sounds Zayn can hear. He doesn’t want this night to end, doesn’t want this moment to end, and it’s scary, in a way, because it has to.

Zayn finds himself picking his head up suddenly, startling Louis as he does so.

“Where will you go when you return me and all of this is over?”

Louis shuts his eyes delicately, not opening for a second or two as though he were composing himself. He feels the hand on his hip tighten slightly and sees Louis’ jaw clench once before he opens his eyes.

There’s a quirk to his lips when he says, “I thought you didn’t want to talk about this now?”

Zayn swallows, “Yeah,” He says, then shakes his head, “But once we return back to shore, that’s the end of it, isn’t it? The freedom, I mean. Like, us two together.”

Louis twists his mouth as he thinks, a pained expression on his face. He shuffles his position, looks towards the light-filled sky and then shakes his head as he lets out a sigh filled with words he can’t say.

“You were right,” He admits, voice strained, “Let’s not talk about this now.”

“Louis,” Zayn says, a sudden shiver down his spine as the realisation dawns on him, “You will be okay, right?”

He takes longer to reply than Zayn would like, but then Louis’ squinting his eyes as he smiles, making reassuring noises as though Zayn’s the biggest stress-head ever, “Of course, love.” He says, “I’ll be livin’ it up in Costa Rica with all my new-found cash, don’t you worry about me. You, on the other hand.”

He pokes Zayn’s chest lightly, face suddenly feigning seriousness, as though he’s still trying to come off as carefree as he was seconds before. Zayn doesn’t buy into any of it, only looking at Louis and feeling his stomach sink further and further.

“You need to confront that mum of yours, yeah?” He continues, nodding, “And you need to come out and live in this world, maybe move in with our good friend Payno, experience life to the fullest.” He raises a finger and tilts his head with a smirk, “Though, not sure you’d like to be bossed around, since he does seem like the type of roommate that would.”

He chuckles softly but the words don’t sink into Zayn’s ears. He can see the mask over Louis’ face, disguising his own fear with humour so effortlessly Zayn thinks it’s something he’s had to practice and perfect overtime.

The crown burns into Zayn’s side as it’s securely nestled in his backpack. Zayn had almost told Louis that he had it, that his mother had surprised him with it. But he had instead told him it was a wolf he had heard that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Since then, Zayn, really, hadn’t thought about it.

He shrugs off the backpack without a second thought, opens it up and rustles through it.

“What are you doing?” Louis asks.

“It’s too risky for you to take me home and then leave,” Zayn says, wrapping his hands around the familiar piece. “So,” He brings it out, Louis’ now-glowing eyes zeroing in on it, “Take it.”

Louis’ mouth just about falls open. Zayn moves to hand it over, a twinge of sadness hitting him when he sees the wonderment written on Louis’ face. His mother was right.

But then Louis’ frowning, shaking his head. “This wasn’t part of the deal—“

“Fuck the deal.” Zayn interjects, rolling his eyes, “You took me here, you risked your life—“

“Our lives, actually.”

“—and I don’t care about what happens after here, just as long as you’re safe.”

Louis visibly softens, a genuine smile pulling at his lips as he looks at Zayn.

He gently takes the crown from Zayn’s waiting fingers and places it on the seat next to him before leaning in. He then takes Zayn’s hands in his own and Zayn can’t help but look at them intertwined. He breathes in shakily when he looks back up, Louis’ face a mere few inches from his own.

“I guess I sort of only care if you’re safe, too.” Louis says with a smile.

Zayn lets out a chuckle, “Sort of?”

“Okay, okay.” Louis grins, the skin beside his now-curved eyes crinkling, “I definitely only care about that. So I’m definitely returning you home.”

Zayn smiles at his feet. He blinks back up to Louis’ eyes and wonders what will happen if he just lent in a little bit more. He wonders if he just pressed their foreheads together, only just, before surging forwards and kissing him, right there underneath all these lanterns.

He decides to pluck up the courage and do it. He leans in a bit, to which Louis automatically copies, and Zayn can feel his heart pick up in pace, stomach flipping at the anticipation. Because, yes, it’s happening…

Until Louis’ eyes dart to the right and something suddenly washes over his expression instantly.

“Is everything alright?” Zayn whispers, inwardly annoyed.

“Y—yeah, yeah,” Louis says unconvincingly, eyes still locked onto something else. “I just… I’m gonna handle something quickly, yeah?”

Zayn frowns and turns in the direction of Louis’ gaze. During their time on the small boat, they’ve somehow wandered over to the other side of the river, almost at the bank. He can’t see much else, though, and isn’t sure of what Louis’ referring to.

Once the boat bumps into the muddy shore, Louis gives Zayn a meaningful look with a smile and squeezes both his hands. Then he picks up the crown that was next to him and steps off the boat with ease. He walks off, behind a big boulder, and Zayn feels that same emptiness he felt when he left him at the woods.

He tells himself it’s fine, the conversation they just shared, Louis can’t have been faking that. He believes him.

~

Louis wakes up in motion. He’s now all-too familiar with the feelings of waking up after having been knocked out, and this time is definitely one of them.

He blinks awake, immediately acknowledging the fact that he’s not sitting, or remaining still at all. He’s floating in the water, but not on the small boat he was previously on, and his hands are strapped to the ship’s wheel. His entire body, in fact, is strapped to the pole behind him.

“Zayn!” He calls out, fear overwhelming him, thinking that Zayn’s been taken, too. “Zayn?”

But it doesn’t get an answer. Any answer, at that.

He looks behind him as much as he can, back to the shore where he left, and can’t make out anyone.

The last thing he remembers is talking to Harry and Niall, giving them the crown and telling them to keep it. He has no recollection of how he got knocked out and how he got strapped to this fucking ship.

Louis lets out a loud groan and tries to escape these ties. He budges and thankfully they’re not as tight as when Zayn had strapped him. He manages to get his left hand free, first, and then easily rips out his right. His body’s a bit harder, the stickiness of the tape clinging onto the material of his shirt. The boat isn’t far from the palace. He tries to search for Liam, knows that he’s still waiting somewhere for them to return.

He’s further out from where they originally were, though.

“Liam!” Louis tries, calling out best he can. But the palace is still noisy, the festival still happening. And then he witnesses the group of police at the dock walking forwards, waiting for him. Louis screams out louder, “LIAM!”

But he’s already too close, and for once, Louis isn’t fast enough. The police jump onto the ship and before Louis can even jump off, and he’s tackled immediately to the floorboards.

“Get off me! Get off me!” Louis struggles underneath their hold but he knows there’s no point. Three separate men are holding him down, making it hard for him to squirm in the slightest.

Once he’s stopped resisting, he’s hoisted up and held by either arm. Louis knows exactly where he’s headed.

~

“Oh, honey,” His mother coos, patting his head, “I told you this would happen. I tried to warn you, but.” She sighs, standing up, “I guess now you’ve learned your lesson, hm?”

Zayn sniffs, nods his head.

He feels nothing. A great abyss in which his soul lies, the image of Louis’ silhouette driving the boat away from him on constant replay in his mind.

After all of this, everything they’ve been through—and the temptation of a boat of all things—Louis finds it easy to leave.

“So I’m definitely returning you home.”

Zayn feels sick.

But, the truth is, that’s all they ever had. A deal.

Zayn was a secluded occupant of a tower who had an indescribable desire to get out, and Louis was a long-time broke criminal who just so happened to have leverage that could make Zayn’s dream come true.

That’s what it started as. Zayn had thought it could be something different, but obviously this is what it ended as, too.

“I’m making your favourite dinner, darling,” She continues, shaking Zayn out of his daze. She lingers at the doorway of his bedroom, “A nice warm dish of rogan josh, just for you.”

All Zayn manages is a nod. He feels exhausted. He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s been an extensive two days, or because it’s late, or because it feels as though his own heart has been torn out of his chest and stepped on multiple times because he was too gullible and naive to trust the first person he saw from the outside world.

Perhaps it’s all three.

He flops back onto his bed and shuts his eyes. The boat floating away on the water is the first thing to pop up. He lets out an angry noise. What was so great about the crown, anyway? Why was it so valuable, why did everyone want to capture Louis because of it? Why on Earth did Louis steal it in the first place and therefore find himself on the run, bumping into Zayn?

And then he’s thinking their time in the palace, drinking and dancing and being amongst something. Seeing a grand picture on the wall of the King and Queen with their baby Prince. And then of Liam in the woods as they walked side by side, complimenting Zayn and saying he looked just like the King - to which Zayn agrees with, now. And then of Louis, how he explained the lanterns, how they put them to the sky in hopes that the lost Prince comes home.

The crown had belonged to said lost Prince.

Who, as he gathered from spending a day at his home, was stolen by a woman when he was only a baby. Who had many baby photos. Who looked like Zayn. And Zayn, Who was shunned for even thinking about leaving the tower and was told lies by his own mother about the meaning of the lanterns.

“Stars.” Zayn repeats with bitterness.

He fetches out the small souvenir Louis stole for him from the palace—a napkin with the Kingdom’s embalm etched on it—and fiddles with it between his finger and thumbs.

And then it clicks. It happens every year on his birthday by no coincidence.

He is the lost Prince.

~

“So.” Louis says, hand-cuffed hands clasped in his lap as he sits in the backseat of a divi van. The two policemen sit in the front seats, glancing at each other in a fed-up fashion as soon as they hear  Louis’ oddly optimistic voice. “Where are you fine lads taking me?”

“Electric chair, if you’re lucky.” One of them replies, earning a snicker from the other.

Louis lets out a laugh, too, an airy one that gives away his nerves.

“Or, if you’re not so lucky,” The one in the passenger seat says, turning so he locks eyes with Louis, “The Queen might just want to decapitate you herself.”

They both let out a laugh, loud and intrusive and Louis shrinks further into his chair, getting the feeling that they’re not joking around at all. Is that even a punishment in this day and age? Decapitation? He supposes if the Queen has anything to do with it, it very well might be.

Louis attempts to clear his throat, making sure he doesn’t sound too squeaky when he talks, “How much longer until…” He scrambles his brain on words to finish with. Until what? Until they all witness his own death that could possibly be broadcasted on live television? Until Louis’ aware of the moment he takes his final breath? Until he has to stare at the respective (electrical or royal) weapon of choice and face his death?  “…we arrive?” is what he settles on.

“What, you got phone calls to make?”

The question is met with another unnecessary laugh, “Bad ol’ boy gotta kiss all his friends good-bye?”

“Mate, do you even have anyone who’s gonna miss you?” He asks, not expecting an answer, “Probably that Black Market that nobody fuckin’ knows.”

It stings, he has to admit. But as the insults simmer in his ears and he swallows down the lump in his throat, something stings even more. He won’t get to say his good bye’s to Harry and Niall, the ones that have been with him from the start and still are on his side even when Louis let his selfishness get in the way. He’ll even miss Liam a tiny bit, since, apparently, when spending time with him in close quarters for a whole day, he’s not so bad.

And Zayn. Someone who he knows will miss him back, too. Someone who he only just met last night, at the brink of midnight and in the strangest way possible. Someone who was scared to even step on the grass in his own front lawn and has now entered the scariest bar known to man, run away from a herd of angry people with weapons, been trapped in a cave that almost drowned them both, slept on the ground in the middle of the woods at night-time, travelled in a cop car that took them to the palace, spent the day there for the most celebrated annual event, sat in a boat, watched the lanterns float up and up into the sky—and… is now probably stuck there on the side of the river without a clue of what to do, scared and alone and most likely feeling betrayed.

Louis broke his promise.

“Aw, he’s gone quiet.” The driver coos, looking back to see Louis but Louis doesn’t meet his eyes.

The other one makes a few patronising noises, too, but Louis doesn’t hear them. His sight is on the healed cut on his hand. He remembers how delicately Zayn took his hand into his own, how he saw the gold from his fingertips shine close-up, the way his skin healed over in a blink of an eye.

He feels like crying. He wants so badly just to go back to their time on the boat. He wishes he didn’t see Harry and Niall, wishes Zayn never showed him the crown and wishes they had just gone back to Liam, even if it had meant they’d nevertheless part ways; at least it would have been with happier minds and fulfilled hearts. Zayn thought they’d both be okay. Louis had almost convinced himself, too.

Louis places his head in his hands. If only.

“Jesus fucking—!”

The car stops suddenly, Louis jolts forwards.

He picks his head up, only to see that the headlights are shining on a group of people surrounding the car. The road is almost deserted with any other cars, but Louis can’t see all that well through the steel cage separating Louis from them like some kind of animal.

“What in the blooming hell is all this?”

At that, a loud smack comes down onto the windshield, making the three passengers jump in fear. Then another one comes to the driver’s side’s window, resulting in the driver shouting out.

“Call for backup. Call for backup!”

But before either of them could reach their walkie-talkies, the window directly to Louis’ left gets smashed open.

~

When her footsteps are heard walking towards his room, Zayn feels his heartbeat in his ears. He wants to shout, wants to yell and order for answers, wants to shake himself out of it all the same—because this realisation is something of a fairytale, yet it makes so much sense.

So when she enters back into the room, tray in her hands with dinner on top, Zayn scrunches the napkin in his hand and doesn’t return her too-happy smile.

“Baby, here’s your—“

“I’m not your son, am I?” He asks directly, eyes never leaving her fallen expression.

She frowns, “Zayn, what—?”

“Answer the question.”

“I…” She scoffs, eyes darting around the room, her mouth wide in shock, “I can’t believe you’re even asking this. I raised you.”

“But you never gave birth to me, did you?” Zayn asks, refraining from gritting his teeth. He stands now, and the glimmer of fear in his mother’s eyes is enough verification for all of his questions. “I’m the lost Prince.”

There’s a split second of hesitation until she turns her feigned hurt expression into a grimace. “Now, listen to me. I don’t know what that thief told you or what you saw while you were out there, but don’t ever think you were that fucking special, you hear me? You are my child!”

He looks her in the eyes. She stares at him, nostrils flared and a burning in her iris’s. If Zayn didn’t know better, he’d apologise profusely, beg for her forgiveness, hate himself for even insinuating something so absurd and believe her every word. But Zayn does know better. He knows himself better, the world better, he knows that the woman standing in front of him doesn’t love him even if she preaches as much. He knows he doesn’t belong here—never did, in fact. And he knows, with every fibre of his being, from the feeling in his gut to the way her eyes burn with the fear of being caught out, that she’s wrong and he’s right.

“You’re a liar.” Is all he manages.

A few seconds pass with no words. Zayn challenges her silently and she starts to fidget on the spot. He waits and waits and waits… Until she sighs in defeat.

“You’re better with me—“

He can’t control it, and suddenly she’s braced against the wall, Zayn’s hand around her neck. The alarm in her expression and the adrenaline in his veins are the two things Zayn acknowledges at the same time. He lets go as soon as he had put her there and she drops to the floor besides the tray of food spilt.

Zayn shakes his head. He grits his teeth together. He paces the room.

All he can think about is Louis. He never abandoned him, did he? Something happened, right there on the shore. He got out, he was meant to be back. Something happened, and his mother conveniently was there at the same time.

“What did you do to him?”

She rolls her eyes, fingers touching her neck, and laughs weakly. “Oh, please. Like you care. He got what was inevitably coming for him.”

Zayn clenches his fists, “Where is he?”

“Electric chair, perhaps? Maybe on death row, it’s hard to tell with a criminal history like his.“

It’s like a weight pressing down on him. He collapses onto the edge of the bed, looking at nothing. Louis’ going to die.

~

“What did I tell you, mate?” The guy from the bar says, sliding an arm around Louis’ shoulders, “Us criminals have to stick together!”

Louis laughs loudly, nodding along. The two policemen are currently tied up together, sitting on the ground, absolutely scared shitless.

“I gotta say, I thought I was gonna die when you smashed my window.” Louis tells him, points to the beaten up car for good measure.

He shrugs, “Well, you were already staring death in the face, weren’t ya?”

Louis’ about to reply when someone else sidles up to his side, tapping him on the shoulder. Louis turns to see Liam, smiling at him like he’s actually glad Louis got away.

“Hello, fellow cop, are you here to turn me in once and for all?” Louis greets, placing his hands on his hips.

Liam’s smile turns into a frown. His hand falls off Louis’ shoulder and he almost looks sad. “I wouldn’t. Not… not after everything, I think.”

Louis’ head jerks back in surprise, “Come again?”

Liam breathes in deeply, rolls his eyes. “Just shut the fuck up and come with me.”

This time, Louis frowns, “Huh? Where are we going?”

He follows him anyway, even as Liam turns to him and says, “To find Zayn, of course.”

It’s far-fetched. It’s undeniably a terrible idea. The last person Zayn will want to see is Louis.

“He hates me now. He thinks I deserted him.”

“Mate, I wouldn’t be sure about that.” Liam tells him as they reach his car. He opens the door, gestures for Louis to hop in the passengers side. “But, hey, there’s only one way to find out.”

Louis fiddles with his bottom lip in between his teeth as he looks at the car and then back the way he came. There’s really no option, is there? Face Zayn and undeniably end up with the worst broken heart that he could imagine, or face the kingdom and end up with broken bones from his skull to his pinkie toe.

That thought makes him shudder and in turn, makes up his mind.

“Right.” Louis clears his throat, hopping into the passenger seat. “Let’s go, then.”

~

The sticky-tape clings to the button like it did the first time, but the sky has started to rain and the edges of it aren’t staying on the brick like it should. Zayn grabs an old t-shirt, dries the section of brick, and presses down on the tape. It works, but only for a few seconds until the water trails down and frays the ends.

He wishes he could find a fresh roll of tape, one that isn’t hidden wherever his mother—Jesus, he doesn’t even know if he can call her that anymore—has taken it. At this rate, the rain is falling off the tape that’s waving in the wind over the button, keeping it dry like a curtain. His plan, as it seems, is to wait for the perfect time so he can tape it securely, open the door, run out of the tower and escape to find Louis.

The rain, however, is coming down harder and is turning his plans to shit.

He looks out the window, the lanterns no longer decorating the sky. A flash of lighting appears instead and Zayn closes his eyes, hearing the thunder that echoes in the distance. Louis’ out there, getting hung or stoned or some medieval punishment that they’ve deemed necessary for his crime. It turns his stomach to mush, makes his eyes sting and if it weren’t for the burning anger he has for the woman down the hall, he’d be completely numb.

He opens his eyes again, and sees the sticky tape barely holding on at all. Zayn lets out a groan of desperation before he presses his back to the wall and hits it with the soft part of his fist.

It’s then, that he hears footsteps.

~

“Bloody hell, could you go any faster?” Louis screams, holding onto whatever he can for dear life.

Liam just laughs in response. He’s crazy. He’s absolutely mad and Louis’ sure of it.

The car flies up a speed hump and bounces back down onto the road, making Louis almost hit his head on the roof of the car. Being scared would be an understatement, definitely.

“We’re already on the run, mate!” Liam tells him, grinning, “Might as well make them more angry!”

Louis just shakes his head, trying not to blurt out every swear word under the sun. They bypass the forest-part of the road and end up somewhere Louis deems familiar.

“Here!” Louis yells, directing Liam right, into an off-road.

Liam swerves, the car skids on the asphalt and the sound screeches through both their ears. Louis’ heart’s pumping so fast and his eyes are peeled so wide he can only imagine how he must look right now.

They dart through the off-road with Louis directing from memory. He would of had to take Zayn back anyway, via walking, yet with the rain coming down as much as it is, Louis wonders what they would have had to do for shelter and warmth.

He shakes his head. Enough of that, now.

“Left.” Louis tells him, not having to scream it anymore since Liam’s finally slowed down.

It’s the end of the road, here. Nothing but grass and trees for miles. Liam stops the car and Louis’ heart starts pumping fast for an entirely different reason.

“It’ll be okay.” Liam reassures, his big, brown, stupid puppy-eyes making it seem like the truth. He places a hand on Louis’ shoulder, squeezes once, and nods.

“Thank you.” Louis finds himself saying. He looks at Liam, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to take me here.”

“No shit.” Liam laughs, “But the police force was overrated anyway.”

“Overrated, hm?” Louis’ asks, eyebrows raised. “Well, I didn’t see that one coming from assertive, too-good, always-plays-by-the-rules Payno—“

“Louis.”

Louis blinks. “Yeah?”

Liam gives him a knowing, half-smile, “You’re stalling.”

“Right.” Louis inhales. He drums his fingers on his kneecaps once before nodding. “I’ll, uh, meet you back here?”

Liam squeezes his shoulder again before letting his hand drop. “Take as long as you need.”

~

“I wanted to chat to you.” Gothel says, entering Zayn’s room.

“I don’t.” Zayn responds.

She swallows, then lingers a little bit before taking a step closer. “You have to know that I only want the best for you at all times.” She sighs, sitting down at the edge of his bed. “Louis… wasn’t right for you. I don’t know how many times we have to go over this. You deserve someone who’s… I don’t know, pretty. Someone who isn’t a criminal, a girl who you’ll marry and have kids with—“

“How could I ever find someone if you—“

“Dear, please.” She says, holding up a finger. “I was talking.”

Zayn feels his face contort into something with sheer disbelief.

“You may want to find him now, run off together, whatever.” She continues, no acknowledgment to her rudeness. If anything, she should be scared of him. Apologetic. “But I can guarantee you, if you even find him in time, that this is only a mere fling.”

“Maybe so.” Zayn replies, the frown etched on his forehead deepening, “That doesn’t mean I won’t try and stop him from dying. So let me go.”

Gothel stands with her hands behind her back, breathes in, then says, “No.” She looks down at Zayn’s hands. “You will continue to keep me young.”

Zayn looks down at his hands, too.

Of course.

He was stolen and kidnapped by this woman, only to keep her youth. Using him for his magic—something she had warned Zayn about, in the outside world, of others taking advantage of. He wants to laugh, or cry. Or maybe cut his hands off in an attempt to leave forever.

He couldn’t hurt her. That was below him. But he could use his physical build to keep her from stopping him. He thinks he’s learnt a thing or two from strapping Louis down.

He turns his hands, palms up, and walks towards her. “This is all you wanted?”

She smiles, nodding. “Of course, dear.”

He returns her smile, “Why didn’t you say so?”

Zayn was about to count in his head, pick her up and take her to one of the chairs. But she seems to be two steps in front of him.

A cloth attaches to his mouth and nose. He pushes her arm away from him but she spins them around. Zayn backs away and hits the mirror, making it shatter. He can smell the chloroform in his nostrils and around his mouth. He staggers up from the mirror and lurches for her, but his muscles go weak.

He falls onto the floor, everything turning to black.

~

The tower looks different in the rain. Less appealing, a lot more small. Maybe because he knows someone actually lives here, and that person is a grown man not much bigger than himself. The door remains shut this time, though.

“Zayn?” He tries, his voice not carrying anywhere through the rain. He backs out so he can see the window he knows Zayn’s bedroom is. “Zayn! Mate, I’m sorry, can you let me in? It’s fucking freezing out here.”

He waits, but there’s no answer. He can see a faint light on in the bedroom and Louis shrugs.

He starts from about twenty bricks up, jumping up to latch onto the ones sticking out the most. He’s climbed dozens of buildings in his lifetime, times when he was running away and really had to put his skills to the test. The rain, though, isn’t stopping and his feet have slipped once or twice already.

“This better be worth it.” Louis mumbles to himself.

He imagines himself entering through the window, scaring the shit out of Zayn, copping a slap or a punch, and then being told to leave. It’d be for nothing, except maybe some closure. Closure as in, knowing that this book can be shut and Louis won’t have to worry about leaving someone behind when he inevitably gets caught and, obviously, killed.

He’s about half-way up the tower now, and god, do his arms hurt. He keeps going, nevertheless. Even though the rain is pouring and his thighs are shaking.

Eventually, he reaches the window.

He’ll be seeing Zayn in a drenched outfit, out of breath and hair in a disastrous state. It’s a good recipe for something as important as this, Louis thinks as he hoists himself up from the windowsill.

Thankfully, the window is still open, and Zayn didn’t spot Louis climbing up and shut it promptly. If Louis were in Zayn’s position, and Zayn had gone back on a particular promise, he can’t say that Louis wouldn’t do exactly that. Probably do something worse, actually.

He manages to lay flat on his stomach on the window sill, trying to catch his breath in the least attractive way possible. From here, he looks up.

Louis almost falls back out the window from what he sees.

At the floor at the end of the bed lies Zayn, sitting up and bounded to the bed leg, mouth gagged and eyes stressfully looking at him.

As soon as Louis re-adjusts his grip, he rushes over the windowsill and drops down into the room. Zayn’s shaking his head viciously, trying to scream through the cotton over his mouth and looking at Louis through tears, his eyes trying to tell him something.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Louis rushes over, kneeling down, he unties the cotton and as soon as it falls from Zayn’s mouth he whispers to him harshly.

“You have to go, you have to go, Louis, you’re an idiot for coming here, you have to—“

“Z, what—?” Louis frowns deeply, fingertips lightly wiping away Zayn’s tears, the red marks around his mouth. “Who did this to you?”

“Doesn’t matter.” Zayn rushes out. Louis grabs the paperclip he has from his back pocket and begins to pick at Zayn’s handcuffs, “You can’t be here. Louis, look at me. Louis.”

“What?” Louis looks at him, his motions paused.

His eyes are pleading. “Leave. Please.”

Louis sighs, shaking his head. He starts on the cuffs again. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Well, look who we have here.” A woman’s voice comes from the doorway.

Louis spins around from his kneeling position on the floor. She walks closer. Zayn’s breathing quickens. Louis looks her up and down. An older woman, a little shorter than Louis. An easy target.

“Ah,” Louis says, standing. He holds out his hand. “You must be Zayn’s mother.”

She gives him a false smile and takes a step closer. Then slaps him across the face.

“Don’t hurt him!” Zayn screams.

“Shit.” Louis says, bringing his hand to his cheek.

“Back away.” She tells Louis.

Louis does what he’s told. He doesn’t know what her motive is or why she’s crazy, but it seems best to assess her before doing anything else.

She bends down to Zayn and fixes the bandana over his mouth, making his voice a mumbled strain. Zayn sobs, muffled noises that make Louis’ heart clench. He decides he wants to kill this woman.

With her back turned, he lunges for her.

But that’s quickly the wrong move, since she turns and faces a handgun in his direction. Zayn lets out a scream and Louis feels his stomach fall through his butt. He tries to reason with himself. He’s talked his way out of gunfire many times. Many, many times. His wit and charm and quick mind gets him out of every situation he’s ever been in. Mostly. How is this any different?

“Get out.” She orders, making Louis back away. “Or I won’t hesitate to shoot you in front of Zayn right now.”

Zayn squeezes his eyes shut, breathing through his nose rapidly.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Louis says, holding his hands up in defence. “I think we can both agree that’s a bit drastic, don’t you think?”

She shrugs, “Do I?”

He looks around the room hastily. He sees the mirror next to Zayn completely shattered. Shards of glass fill the floor and it looks like that’s the only sufficient piece of weaponry Louis can use right now. Though, they’re next to the doorway, opposite from where he stands.

He takes tiny steps around the room, towards it. “I mean, I don’t even know your name, gorgeous.”

“Gothel.” She replies bitterly, watching Louis carefully. “You’re Louis. Still doesn’t change my mind about shooting you. Now, leave.”

“Love,” Louis laughs airily, “Let’s put the gun down, yeah? We could sit around the kitchen, have a chat over a warm cuppa—“

He hears it before he feels it.

The gunshot stuns his ears. It turns everything into a ringing noise—especially the way Zayn’s agonising scream echoes through the room. He then knows where it’s hit him. It’s the chest, straight through him like a spear. Warm and wet and undeniably uncomfortable.

He staggers. Once, twice, and on the third footstep he falls. The world is spinning as he turns onto his back. He can only just make out the figure of Gothel standing beside him, talking to Zayn in a calm tone as he sobs wretchedly.

Louis wants to tell him he loves him, wants to scream but the words don’t come out. His leg twitches, though, and it’s a no-brainer with what he does next.

In his last moment, his last bound of energy, he moves his leg just so. Forceful enough that it swipes underneath Gothel’s ankles.

She stumbles backwards and slips over Louis’ shins as she falls.

~

Her feet are the last to disappear out of the window.

Zayn doesn’t feel anything for her. He looks immediately to Louis’ lifeless body, blood pouring out from his chest, from behind him, seeping through the cracks of the floorboards.

He doesn’t have a voice, everything comes out strained. He’s said Louis’ name so much it’s worn out, his throat dry and his cheeks wet. It can’t be real, it can’t be. It can’t end here.

He thrashes around, attempts to grind the chain hooking both his wrists together on the steel bed leg to wear it down but it doesn’t work. And if it does, it’s too slow. It’s much too slow. He shuffles the cloth down over his mouth with his tongue, shifting it and moistening it so the fabric weakens. It’s disgusting and time-consuming but it eventually falls down around his neck in a wet mess and his mouth is free.

“LOUIS!” He shouts desperately, as though the sound of his voice will miraculously awaken him. He kicks off his shoes in a haste, socks in toe, praying that this will work. He slides down onto his back, feet mere inches away from Louis’ chest.

He hums. He hums until the song ends yet all that glows are his fingertips. He focuses all his energy into the bottoms of his feet, the tips of his toes, hoping they’ll light up, and hums again. The outcome remains the same and Zayn kicks the floor with his heel in anger.

“Fuck!” He spits with irritation. He looks to the glow on his hands starting to dim, and sees the paperclip still lodged in the lock of the handcuffs. Zayn had no idea how Louis was going to release him with something so little, and he has no idea now, but he places his teeth onto it regardless.

He can’t see shit. Not the position of the paperclip, not with the fucking tears in his eyes, not anything. He’s fiddling with it, turning it, but it all seems useless. Zayn groans in annoyance and wipes his eyes with frustration on the bed’s duvet and inspects it a little more.

Taking the paperclip between his teeth, he figures out how to turn it properly, as though turning a key. He pushes in, then twists. It doesn’t work. Not the second, third, twentieth time. He’s about to give up, about to start his method of grinding down the metal again, when he ends up twisting it a little bit more to the left, and then the right, and—click.

Zayn looks down at the cuffs. He lets out a little huff of relief and manages to get one wrist free. Without wasting a moment, he crawls over to Louis’ body immediately.

He hums the same tune, hands pressed onto Louis’ chest, around the bullet wound. He hasn’t looked at Louis’ face yet. Doesn’t want to.

The song ends and the glow dims but the bullet remains lodged in his chest and nothing’s healed.

Zayn shakes his head. A drop falls from his eyes.

“No.” He refuses to believe it. He hums again, this time pressing harder. The humming is cracked and broken. The third time, it’s interrupted by a sob, and both his hands press on top of the wound.

Still, nothing.

He tries to resuscitate him using a method he read about, with the forceful pads that electrify the heart, restarting it. He hums the song, presses down forceful enough it makes Louis’ body jolt.

“C’mon. Come on!” Zayn urges, jolting him harder. “Wake up!”

But it does nothing.

He thinks back to the cut on Louis’ hand. The way it healed instantly. The expression of awe on Louis’ face. How Zayn was able to rid of such pain so easily.

He dares to look at Louis’ face. His heart lurches at the sight of it. The colour from his face is drained, lips parted slightly and his eyes closed. His fringe is covering part of his face and Zayn brushes it away with his fingertips, revealing it. He remembers doing the same thing when they first met, but with the handle of a fry-pan, a distance apart.

Then and now, Zayn looks over a motionless Louis, completely unthreatening and dream-like.

For a moment, Zayn wishes he could go back in time to their first encounter, and let him leave without any deal, without any promises.

Since then, he wouldn’t be dead.

“‘M sorry, Lou.” Zayn mumbles, the rock in his throat making it difficult to make words. He holds him to his chest, breathes in his hair. “I’m so sorry.”

He could try throwing him over his shoulder, carrying to civilisation and getting help. He could try ripping up the bed linen, tying it around Louis’ gash and tightening so the blood doesn’t spill. He could try many things, but Zayn’s aware that even the most isolated person can tell that Louis’ gone.

He places Louis delicately back on the ground. He sniffs, teardrops falling by the millisecond, mixing in with the blood. He was too late.

Zayn closes his eyes and breathes in heavily. How can this be it?

He finds it in himself to stand. His legs are shaky and the room isn’t still but he braces himself using the wall behind him and the bed to the side of him. Louis’ body is glowing but Zayn knows it’s the leftover fragments of his hands. His mind playing a sick, twisted trick on him. A mirage to let him have some kind of false hope even though it’s a displacement of his vision, just like how he can’t see straight.

Louis once told him that he didn’t care if he died. He told him that nobody else would, so why would he?

“I fucking care, Louis.” Zayn whispers, stumbling as he steps over his body. “I cared then. I care now.”

He sees the pieces of glass shattered on the floor. Sees the body next to him that used to hold so much life, so much emotion and Zayn loves him. He loves him so much.

He’ll have to bury him. He’ll have to let him rot in the same ground that Louis encouraged Zayn to step onto for the first time ever. He’ll have to host a funeral, the only one attending being himself. His other friends wouldn’t know he was dead, he’s sure they’d care. Liam would care. But Zayn would be left alone, up in this tower, not knowing how to continue in the flurry on the town without Louis’ constant guidance.

Louis was his first real friend. His first love. And now he’s gone.

It’s probably a moment of weakness, what he does next. But the thought of continuing completely alone, the idea of even waking up tomorrow and replaying the scenes of tonight, the haunting guilt that would plague his entire being with the wishing that they’d never met — it’s enough for Zayn to pick up the largest piece of glass he can find.

He slides down to the floor, eyes seeing nothing but waves. His hand shakes, the pain of it pressing into his palm is almost enough to startle the numbness that he feels all over. He chances a look to Louis again, and the golden glow has duplicated.

It’s impossible, it’s so impossible because his hands are here, and Louis is over there. It’s impossible because Zayn’s not humming, he’s not even touching him, for god’s sake.

Zayn closes his eyes. He knows he’s only seeing what he wants to see. He brings the glass up to his neck. His breath hitches continuously, hand unable to remain steady.

Zayn closes his eyes and the first thing he sees is Mother Gothel shooting Louis, Louis falling to the ground. He opens his eyes again.

And when he looks at Louis, they lock eyes.

Zayn drops the piece of glass and it clatters to the floorboards. Blood from his hand drips onto his leg but Zayn doesn’t acknowledge it. He stills completely, the sound of his breath inhaling the loudest thing he can hear. Then Louis blinks, and Zayn can feel his heart stop.

“Zayn…”

He’s over there in an instant, picking up Louis in his arms and hugging him. He breathes him in, tears spilling out, legs covered in blood but he doesn’t even care. He pulls him away again, and Louis looks up to smile weakly.

“Lou, you—you’re… How?” He strokes Louis’ cheek with the backs of his knuckles, down his neck and to his chest. The wound is healed completely, and Zayn spots the bullet on the floor.

The glow wasn’t imaginary.

“Almost pulled a Romeo and Juliet did’ya?” Louis croaks.

Zayn doesn’t know what he means, but he holds him tighter anyway, overwhelmed with relief as Louis wraps his arm around him, too.

“Let’s get you onto the bed,” Zayn says hurriedly, ready to pick Louis up, suddenly realising how weak he must feel, “We’ll get you comfortable—“

“Hey,” Louis says, soft. He pulls Zayn’s gaze and they look at each other for a moment or two with Louis shaking his head, “Let’s just stay here for a bit, yeah?”

His eyes are so blue as they look up into Zayn’s own. The colour is back into his cheeks and he’s looking more content just to sit here and be together than Zayn could’ve imagined. He’s here, so close and alive.

Zayn brings the hand that’s resting on Louis’ chest to his face, running a thumb over Louis’ cheekbone. He looks down to Louis’ lips, and doesn’t even think for a moment before leaning in and kissing him.

A startled sound comes from Louis’ throat, but he doesn’t pull away. And Zayn’s mind catches up to his actions, making his eyes widen and jolt back.

Louis looks at him with an amused smile. Zayn feels a fire stir in the pit of his stomach.

“I… god. Sorry.” Zayn breathes. “I just—I thought I lost you, and…”

Louis chuckles lowly, then switches his position so he’s a bit more upright. He runs his fingers through Zayn’s hair, eyes crinkling by their sides as he smiles.

“It’s fine.” He says, then kisses him.

[candy-corps]

Something Familiar

@mygardenofmuses​

“Well, at first I came with my sibling to find Dae. We did find him, but Dae had ties to this universe - and eventually, my sibling Joe got a reason to stay here as well. I visited home for Christmas, and I came back to check up on them.” Lou explained, and took his hand.

“There’s people still around… Come with me, there’s an alley next to the hotel. We can talk there, if the light hurts your eyes.”

That child really knew about him. "I wear contacts" Bruce explained with a slight frown. "It's all good. You should take care of that though" he reminded Lou, meaning his knee.

"I'll be OK. I'm tough, and the hotel got an elevator. I'll be fine." Lou assured him and clapped his hands. He was actually excited to be there with him. "I'm so glad to meet you! I mean, the old you is great, but you're great as well!"

"Well, thank you." Bruce had to laugh.

"And you two are so different. The other you didn't talk much. I thought he was just shy. But maybe it's just his personality. People is different in every verse." Lou commented, and rubbed gently his knee. "You know, you're right... I gotta 

"Is your sibling there to take care of you?" Bruce wondered. He was glad thst the little one listened to him. He'd escort him to the room at least, Bruce decided and stepped up.

"Yes, they should be there now." Lou nodded, rubbing his arms. It was still cold outside, and he could feel it. "Can you escort me there, please?"

"That was the plan" Bruce assured. "Any friend of Dae is mine." It should go without saying. He was curious about this 'Joe', too.

"Thank you. I'm sure Joe will appreciate having a chance to meet you again." A playful grin appeared in the kid's lips.  "They admire you, I think.  But Joe is a bit shy to admit it."

"Again" Bruce repeated. It was strange to meet someone again he's never seen before. "I'm a little bit nervous, too." Bruce let the small one take the lead with little idea where to go himself.

Lou led him to the hotel's entrance. He pushed and held the door open for him.  "No ned to be nervous! Joe is the biggest dork, promise. It's gonna be alright."

"When you say so." Yeah really. He trusted that boy. Otherwise he'd not set foot in that hotel.

Lou looked around. Fortunately at those hours the hotel staff was busy in the cafeteria, so no one was there. "Let's go to the elevator. We'll get there sooner."

He didn't like elevators, but ... "Okay."

"Thank you. We'll get faster that way." Lou answered, pulling him toward the elevator by the hand. "With some luck you'll have a chance to meet a little bit of my family, too."

"I just want to know you're safe" Bruce answered., following him in the elevator. His ears were up in alert and scanning everything and everyone, just to make sure... Until they couldn't anymore. The tiny space in the elevator dampened his abilities.

Lou pressed the button that would lead them to the floor where their rooms were located.  " I will be. I have a hero here with me, after all!"

That lifted Bruce' spirits. He smiled a little, raised his wing and put it on Lou's head to give him a pat. The elevator starting to move startled him just a little, but ... it would be alright. Bruce held his breath, his gaze locked on the door.

Lou laughed and petted gently his wing. "Your wings are so cool. Wish I had some, too!"

"Well, I can't figure what it's like to be without" Bruce admit. He removed and lowered it again so Loud could see when he wanted.

Lou examined his wings with curiosity. He wasn't an inventor, so he couldn't build anything like this. But he could admire them.  When Bruce said that, Lou pursed his lips a little. "You gotta be careful saying that out loud! Who knows if a Magic Anon is listening! What if one of those turned you into a human being? You wouldn't be able to fly!"

"Oh, I got through that already" Bruce admit - his wing making a motion as if to wave it off while his hands were in his pockets, actually. He stiffened as the elevator came to a halt.

"You did? How was it?" Lou asked, feeling curious. Every time he heard stories about Bruce, it was like a big adventure. A big adventure with a real person he admired! Usually he heard those stories from Joe, but hearing from the breat bat himself would be even better!

"Shoe's were weird" Bruce remembered. He inched closer to Lou as the metallic doors opened, just for the slight chance there was a threat on the other side now.

"Yeah, they can be. Especially Joe's. But don't worry, we are safe here, see?" Lou pointed to a security camera placed in one side of the corridor. "If we were in trouble, the camera would notice it. Now..." he beckoned him to follow his lead. "Our room is over here. Please follow me."

Bruce' gaze followed the direction that Lou pointed at. Camera, indeed. As long as there were friends sitting on the other side, that would be okay. But when not ...

Maybe he shouldn't think about this right now. He looked to the left and right, his ears moving as his hearing worked better again. He followed the child.

The door wasn't that far off. Lou took out a key from his pocket, and used it to open the door. "Joe! Shred! I'm home!" he announced, looking around. "And I brought a guest!"

Lou seemed to know the way from here. Bruce didn't follow in but stayed at the door, his gaze still searching the aisle for any threat - that wasn't there, of course. There was no sound here - he was just being nervous, was all.

"...Looks like they haven't arrived home yet." he mumbled, rubbing his chin. "Maybe they went to eat dinner. They often do that at these hours. But that's OK, we can wait for them here. Want a snack?"

A new environment? And staying for longer? Bruce grit his teeth, but did follow Lou in.

When he looked up, Lou noticed his guest didn't seem to feel too comfortable. "Are you OK? You look... a bit nervous." he mumbled, trying to soften up his words. It wasn't something did often - but he could do it for him. This was one of his idols, after all!

"Oh, don't ... Don't worry about it" Bruce said, checking where Loud brought him here. His hand stayed on the handle for yet another second; then he shut the door behind them.

"I have some candy in my room, if you want?" he suggested with a little smile. Lou just had remembered now how much he loved that kind of stuff. It was often mentioned in Joe's stories.

Bruce huffed. "Thank you. Should I wait until someone comes home?"

"If you want?" Lou wouldn't pressure him. He didn't Bruce to feel forced to stay.

It was then when the boy heard someone in the door. "Good evening everyone!" Joe announced with the bright grin. They were wearing a cute blue dresss with golden decorations. "Hey Lou! And... Mr Kent?"

A stranger. Bruce' wings curled around himself, which was all the greeting that the other would get for now, sadly.

Lou beamed when he saw their sibling. "Joe, look! It's Bruce, Dae's father in this universe!"

"I can tell..." Joe walked toward them, their eyes still in awe. "It's an honor to meet you here, Sir." they said, offering him their hand as a greeting.

Seemed ... friendly. Bruce had to open up again in order to stretch his own hand out and shake the others in greeting. He let go quick again and looked from Lou to the other. "It's strange you seem to know me" he admit. "I don't even know your name." He felt like he failed something.

"My name is Joseph, but everyone calls me Joe." The androginous guy smiled cheerfully. "We met the you of our universe. We grew up listening stories of how awesome of a hero you were."

"Yeah! A true badass! The wings of justice, always saving the day!" Lou cheered as well. He could be a complete fanboy someting.

"What?" That came as a surprise, but it did make Bruce smile. And ... raise another question. "W-Who are your ... parents?" he wondered, again looking at Joe.

"Ezayne Charles Raymond Moriarty and his wife, Neela Behram!" Lou smiled. He felt happy thinking of his parents. "The ones of our universe, of course.  Really sweet people. They adopted us when we were little."

"You are Ezaynes - " Yeah! "I could tell with you" he said, pointing at Joe. "And ... " Looking at Lou again ... "Yeah. As kind as him" he noticed. He found Ezayne's babies!

Joe blushed and looked down, feeling a bit shy. They smiled and nodded. "Yes, we're some of his sons. He has another four more, but they are living in our universe." they explained.

"Thank you, Mr Bruce." Lou felt happy with the praise. Deep down, he wanted to be like his father, so being compared to him sure made him very, very happy!

"Four more?" Bruce asked disbelievingly. "Damn, I need to catch up" he miuttered to himself. He was feeling way better now. "You got your feminine side from him, you know that?" he asked Joe. Oh my. All the times he told Ezayne to 'man up' and now ... look at this. He'd not do again. Ezayne's children. Perfect children.

"Catch up? How?" Joe giggled at his words. They cocked their head, a little confused. "Feminine side, dad? I don't think he has one...?"

"I think he's talking about dad's yoga classes in the gym, Joe." Lou commented. "It's that, isn't it, Mr Bruce?!"

"Among others" Bruce admit, laughing  now. Oh, he was so relieved. It was just Ezayne's children. He sighed as the laughter died down. "Did you see him yet? Ezayne of this dimension?"

"Not yet." Joe admitted. "But we met an angel for Christmas... an angel named Caín. He happened to be the me of this universe." Joe rubbed their arm, bitting their bottom lip. "He told us what happened to our Dad in this universe. It's pretty sad."

"Yeah." Lou nodded in agreement. "We haven't visited him yet because we don't know if he'd be able to take in the fact we are alive and kicking in another universe. Do you think he would?"

Bruce couldn't really follow. He tilted his head, one ear perked up high and the other leaning down in the process. Cain happened to be ... what?

Lou cocked his head as well, imitating him. "Did you hear anything weird...?"

"No, I don't think it's that. Bruce, did you understand everything we said?" Joe asked. They recognized that confused expression.

He heard the words, he just couldn't connect them in a way that made sense. "Ezayne would love to meet his children." He knew that much.

Joe smiled. "That's good to know. Maybe we should visit sometime, then."

"Yeah."Getting Ezayne's family together - it really sounded about right. He and Joe could exchange make-up tips and ... it would be just so great. "You should have gone right away. I know he's another version of your father but ... " He thought about Dae and how easy things had clicked. between them "Home's home, and a dad is a dad."

"That... Actually makes a lot of sense." Lou muttered. "Besides... I think he'd like to see how awesome we are!"

"I do like living here, but it would be nice to have some family support over here too." Joe nodded in agreement.

"See." Bruce smiled. They belonged with each other. He should call Ezayne and give him a heads-up. Bruce got out his phone, wondering if he should give him a call right away. It was already night time ... Not that it ever stopped him to call Ezayne before. Plus, this time he did have a good reason.

"Are you going to call him? Oh gosh, I should put on my best dress! And get a shower!" Joe tugged at their own cheeks. "And Shred hasn't returned yet! Aaahhh! So much to do!"

"While you panic, I'm going to take a shower myself!" Lou laughed, nudging them. Some ol' good teasing was always fun.

"Rude! You know I am the oldest! I deserve to use the shower first!" Joe whined, though deep down they were laughing as well.

"Ezayne's children" Bruce noticed, once more. He nodded at their panicked behaviour and laughed to himself. They should et this over with as soon as possible maybe, or they'd suffer a heart attack from stress. Bruce got moving to the window, pushed the speed dial on the screen and raised the phone to his ear, waiting for his friend to pick up.

In the end, Lou was the one who got to shower first, because who could resist his charm? No one, not even Joe. In the meanwhile, Joe raced to his bedroom to pick a dress and text their boyfriend, so he knew  about the nice surprise they had found tonight. They hoped he would understand.

"Hi Ezayne. I found something that belongs to you" were Bruce' first words, the second the saiyan picked up.

"Really? Is it a weapon?" Ezayne answered with a laugh. At those hours of the night he just had finished tucking in his babies for sleep, so he had some time off before he went to bed. "You know there's a window always open for you. Feel free to drop by anytime."

"I think I would need the front door tonight" he answered. "A little too big to carry. You got time, like um ... soon?"

"I got some time, yes, just put the babies in the cribs. I'm going to tell Neela. We'll meet in the front door!" Ezayne answered, curious. What could be the thing Bruce had found?

Very soon, he'd find out. For now, he was glad to go outside and unlock the door of the stone wall that sheltered the manor and its gardens from the outside world.  He could see the stars sparkling from here. What a nice night! Though it was a little cold. He returned to the manor and closed the door. Bruce could use the door bell later, it wasn't that hard to find.

[theworldhopper]

The Answers She Seeks Chapter III

As always, if you want to read this fic on AO3, simply click here to go back to Chapter I.

Chapter III: To Lohgrin

When Claudia opened her eyes, she was no longer in the grassy fields of the Meadow of Triumph but rather, on a ship at night in the open ocean. Judging from the sails, she was on a pirate ship. She smiled, amazed. Since the continents merged and formed Glenwood, sailing was no longer needed except for fishing and recreation for nobles. Claudia has longed to sail the seas on a ship of her own but...as usual...her mothers forbade it, saying the ocean held its own risks and dangers and they’re not willing to lose their only heir at sea for going on some fool’s errand to find lands that may not even be there anymore. Claudia averted her gaze from the sky and saw the dark haired lady yet again, leaning against the side of the ship. This time, the red haired lady with pigtails approached her. Claudia observed them once again, talking and joking around rather pleasantly, even though she can’t hear what they’re saying. It probably has something to do with the young seraph boy they seem to be co-parenting or...something of the like.

“Far cry from the enemies they once were previously.” She muttered with a gentle smile. She didn’t know their names but...it intrigued her nonetheless. They continued to speak and the ebony haired woman turned to the ocean again with a small smile on her face.

“I didn’t know she had smile muscles.” Claudia said with another small smile. The red haired girl stayed for a moment, watching the woman before her with a fond smile on her face. She then approached the bandaged woman and gave her a pat on the shoulder before attempting to walk away. Just before she can take another step, however, the dark haired girl grabbed her hand and suddenly kissed her. It didn’t take long for the other girl to reciprocate for a moment. Claudia averted her eyes, shocked at the sudden scene she was seeing. It’s not like she hasn’t seen two women kissing before. She had to talk to her parents once and entered their room, only to turn around and walk out so fast in a split second because they were making out. It’s just...the sheer boldness of the scene. Claudia kinda wished she was that gutsy. Eventually, they separated and the redhead led her away to the lower cabins as Claudia’s vision started to fade.

Just as the vision ended, Claudia heard a sword unsheathing behind her. Immediately, she unsheathed her own sword and swung it as she turned, blocking the sword just in time to see three bandits surrounding her with one of them engaged in a sword-lock with her. The second bandit swung his sword and she ducked and hit him in the gut with the hilt of her sword before kicking him down on the ground. The third bandit swung his sword while she was distracted, grazing her arm. She yelped in pain before parrying his next attack and thrusting her sword forward and injuring him in turn. As he recoiled from the pain, Claudia swung his sword towards his face, cutting his cheek. In anger, he pulled out a dagger and swung it around, hitting her abdominal area and drawing blood. Claudia tackled him in retaliation and gave one hard punch, knocking him out immediately. The bandit leader finally attacked her but Claudia dodged and blocked his attack with her sword. She immediately disengaged and thrust her sword, only to find her attempt blocked. The leader punched her twice in the face before pulling out a dagger and managing to cut her face by the eye. Claudia finally had enough and slashed at his leg, injuring him and making him fall to the ground. Claudia pointed her sword at him as she tried to stem the bleeding from her wounds.

“Who are you? Who sent you? I demand you answer me.” She ordered him as the leader held his hands up in surrender.

“No one sent us.” The leader replied.

“You’d do well to ensure that you don’t attack a Princess of Hyland next time. Unless you want to be responsible for an international crisis. Go. I’ll spare you your lives this once. But attack me again and I won’t be so merciful.” Claudia said as she sheathed her sword. The bandits stood up and ran off with their tails between their legs immediately. With the adrenaline of the fight finally gone, Claudia felt the pain of her wounds and so she limped back to Trots-a-Lot and untied his reigns before mounting him.

“Come on. Let’s find a good place to camp.”

The rain seemed to only get worse in the night. Claudia hid beneath a group of trees with thick foliage to protect her and the fire she made from the rain. She managed to heal her wounds with the miniscule healing artes she knows and wrapped them up with bandages to prevent them from opening again. Her left eye is even covered up by bandages now. She pulls out the Celestial Record from her pack and starts reading once again.

“The Shepherd, his squire and the Seraphim travel to Lohgrin to learn more about the Earthen Historia and the Dawn of the Era of Chaos. There, they meet the storyteller, Mayvin. Seraph Lailah requests for his help in shedding light about the Lord of Calamity. However, Mayvin advises them to search for more Iris Gems in order to learn the truth. Thus, the Shepherd travelled once again and acquired all the Iris Gems needed. Returning to Lohgrin, the storyteller finally assists them and takes them to a room with a large monolith and finally…they understand…and know the truth of Heldalf, Lord of Calamity.”

In the next page was a sketch of the broken tower and a monolith. Claudia snaps the book shut. She had heard of Mayvin before. Mother Rose had nothing but fond memories of him since she knew him since she was a child with Claudia’s adoptive grandfather, Brad, and the Windriders.

“If it doesn’t all add up, the sensible conclusion is that you’re missing a piece somewhere.”

Mother Rose always told her that to encourage her whenever she gets frustrated because she can’t figure something out. She said Mayvin himself told them those words during their adventure. And for Claudia, it was always somewhat encouraging. Unfortunately, the old storyteller died during their adventure. Claudia would’ve loved to have met him; she would’ve loved to hear his stories.

As for Lohgrin, Claudia always was an eager student of history. She’s read the history of the tower from records as far back as she could. The grand tower where King Claudin Asgard, the alleged Shepherd whom Claudia was named after, died. Unfortunately, after a thousand years and the shifting of the continents, half the structure crumbled to dust while the other half remains standing today just past the Zaphgott Moor and the Great Camelot Bridge. But at least she knows her next destination now and she’s bound to pick up more gems along the way.

“Trots-a-Lot, we’ve plotted our course and we’re heading for Lohgrin. Get some rest.” She said with a fond smile and a pat before falling asleep as well.

Claudia lost track of how long they’ve been travelling now. She made a stopover in Pendrago to let Trots-a-Lot rest properly and to pick up some supplies. After two days, they were well on their way again and now that they were in Zaphgott Moor, Claudia knew that they were nearing Lohgrin. As she predicted she did pick up Iris Gems along the way but what’s odd is that she hasn’t picked up anything new since the bridge. It can’t be the end of it all. She’s seen the beginning. She’s seen the middle. But where is the end? There’s still too much confusion. Finally, she arrived at the gates of Lohgrin and she tied Trots-a-Lot to a nearby trough so he can eat and drink before entering the broken tower. She walked around town, seeing the people go about their business. Claudia never really understood how people could live in a place like this. It made her wonder how they survive despite the struggle of living in an arid desert. But hey, whatever floats their boat. Ascending the stairs, she saw what was in the middle tower and was thoroughly amazed. Despite all odds, life managed to bloom in this tower. What caught her eye the most, however, is the large monolith she read about in the Celestial Record. She approached it and put her hand to it.

“Come on. Come on. Come on. Please work.” She begged to herself. But unfortunately, nothing happened.

“Something’s missing. It doesn’t all add up. Something has to be missing somewhere.” She muttered as she turned away from the monolith and walked out the door.

Funny thing is…had she just wandered around a bit more, she would’ve found that missing piece in the flowers.

Claudia walked up to the makeshift inn and reserved herself a place to sleep at before continuing to walk around until she saw the Item Shop. Amongst their wares, she saw a book that caught her interest.

“Tale of the Calamity by Magillanica Lou Mayvin. Mayvin…”

“Ah, I see that caught your eye.” The old shopkeep said with a kind and gentle smile. He was a portly old man with a pipe and a graying beard to go with his graying hair. “Judging from your clothes, I’d say you’re from Hyland. And a noble to boot.”

Damn…if people out here in the sticks can tell she’s a noble then her mother’s letter was right; she was NOT doing a good job of hiding who she is. A pair of dark trousers, white poet shirt and boots that she was wearing now would’ve done the trick. All she would need to do to avoid looking like a slob who just got out of bed would be to add a simple jacket in. What was probably giving her off was what she was actually wearing outside; a blue doublet with intricate patterns. If she took off the cloak she was currently wearing, one would be able to clearly see the crest of the Hyland Royal Family. But even if she was wearing the cloak, that doublet alone was giving her away since it’s not really something the common folk wear. It’s not like she can just ditch them seeing as how everything she has would give her away. Even her simplest vests would do that.

“Uh…yes…I am. I’m currently travelling. About this book…uh…what’s it about?” She asked him.

“Oho…that particular one was banned after the reign of King Percival Asgard, lass. His grandson banned it. It was about the first Lord of Calamity and all the good she allegedly did in the world. Naturally, the young King couldn’t accept that so he had all the writings of first Storyteller of Time banned. They say this was the last she ever wrote. Well, the last published one at least.”

“The first Storyteller? And the first Lord of Calamity?” Claudia asked as her head snapped up to look at him so fast she was surprised it didn’t fly off to the sky.

“Aye. There was a storyteller ‘round these parts some 30 or so years ago. He died unfortunately. Name was Mayvin. Everyone reckoned he was a descendant of the first Storyteller.” He explained to her. Claudia nodded in response as she dug out a handful of gald from her pouch and handed it to him.

“I’ll take this. Keep the change if I gave too much.” She said as she started to walk away, book in hand. Before she got too far she turned around.

“One more thing, that monolith upstairs. How does it work?” Claudia asked him.

“Can’t help you there, lassie. Rumors say you need a Storyteller of Time to harness its power.” The old shopkeep answered her as he shook his head.

“Thank you.” Claudia said as she walked back to the makeshift inn and opened up the book. She scanned the entire book reading about the adventures of Velvet Crowe and her group. Just as the old shopkeep said, the book praised the first Lord of Calamity for the good she did; stopping the suppression of human emotions and all that. SOME of the information here somewhat matched the beginnings of the Celestial Record but…not what was in there was not as detailed as this one. And it certainly didn’t paint Velvet Crowe as the hero Magillanica Lou Mayvin saw her as. All the events described matches what she was seeing in the Iris Gems. It seemed Magillanica Mayvin was quite a close friend to Velvet Crowe and Eleanor Hume…even if she probably did get on their nerves like she thought. But like what Percival Asgard had done to Arthur Hume’s father, it seemed like she scrubbed Velvet and Eleanor’s…for the lack of a better word…love story from the pages of her book. She skipped towards the end and saw the last words.

“To Velvet, Laphicet, Eizen, Rokurou and Eleanor. Thank you for allowing me to live again. For helping me remember how to feel emotions. How to love. How to laugh. How to care for another. How to welcome and embrace each and every day. I love you all.

I watch the world with measured gaze as moments turn to history. The world, a lute the people play, and history its melody.

Venture on. Venture on. Let your actions turn the world. And I shall watch, and I shall watch. Until the final star winks out.

If solitude must be my fate, then people are my heart, my heart. I know your sins and shrieks and joys, for people are my heart, my heart.”

Claudia flipped to the next page and gasped. The page contained a sketch of the people the first Storyteller travelled with. It was the people she was seeing in the Iris Gems. Claudia’s hunch was right; the Iris Gems were showing her events related to her ancestors. The people she was seeing all along was Velvet Crowe and Eleanor Hume. Even Edna’s brother, Eizen, was there. Claudia pulled at her hair as she threw the book at the wall. She would’ve screamed had she not wanted to take consideration to the other people around. She was being bombarded by information she was having a hard time processing, she was all out of Iris Gems, no closer to the answers nor the peace she seeks and on top of that, no Storyteller of Time to help her activate that goddamned monolith! Taking a deep breath, she picked up the book yet again. It’s a miracle she hasn’t succumbed to the malevolence yet. There is one place mentioned in the book that she hasn’t been to yet. Some place that hasn’t either been destroyed by time or the shifting of continents. The northern area of Glenwood where Meirchio should be located.

“Meirchio it is, then.” She decided before finally turning in to sleep.