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By the time he found the balcony, he was late, in love, and a little bit drunk. Cress glanced back at him from where she stood at the railing, wrapped in what looked like sheafs of night sky scattered with stars, and pressed her lips together.

“What took you so long?”

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I, uh, got held up.”

She lifted an eyebrow (he was pretty sure he’d seen her and Iko practising in the mirror one time. The latter had thrown a hot pink stiletto shoe through the door that nearly decapitated him).

Thorne held up the delicate paper confection. “I have the lantern?”

The stern look on her face evaporated. “Yes! Oh, finally –” She took it in her hands as he searched his pockets for a lighter. “I used to watch this on the newsfeeds all the time, you know.”

He glanced at her. “What, the lanterns?”

“Mmm. It was so beautiful. I always wanted to be a part of it. It made me miss the Earth so much …” She gazed wistfully at the lantern in her hands. “… even though I’d never been there. Crazy, right?”

“Hey, we’re friends with Cinder and Winter. If you start running tallies on crazy, you know who’s going to come out ahead.”

“Jerk,” she said affectionately. “You’re supposed to say I’m the sanest one.”

Thorne finally located the lighter in his back pocket. Cress bit her lip against a gleeful smile as he bent to light the lantern, and it came alive in their hands with hues of flickering orange, like a heartbeat.

Holding it between them, they gazed out onto the city below the palace cliffside. All of New Beijing seemed to be holding its breath.

Then: a single, flickering golden light, drifting up and away into the sky.

Somewhere high above their balcony, Emperor Kaito and the Lunar Queen had done the honours together: releasing the first lantern that signalled not just the one hundred and thirtieth anniversary of the end of the Fourth World War, but the fourth year since some nobody cyborg had carried through a revolution on her shoulders, and brought in a new era of peace.

The whole city came alive with lanterns. Thousands and thousands of them rose from the streets and skyscrapers like a swarm of fireflies, or lost bits of the sun trying to return home.

Cress’s eyes were shining as she and Thorne set their lantern free. He wrapped an arm around her as they watched it sail away, joining the torrent of lights rising through the sky.

He looked down at her. She had the same look on her face as when she’d heard a lone nightingale sing through the darkness of Scarlet’s farm: crumpled sadness and full of wonder at the same time. Tears dripped down her cheeks.

He nudged her gently. “You know what I think? A little crazy can be good sometimes.”

“Huh?” She rubbed her eyes with the heel of her hand. “Why?”

Thorne grinned. “Because I’m crazy in love with you.”

“That’s terrible,” she said, but it had worked: a smile was flickering over her face.

Then Cress turned, cupped his stubbled cheek and looked deeply into his eyes.

“Thorne, tell me the truth.”

He blinked. “Of course. Anything.”

“Are you trying to grow a beard?” she said, and he laughed so hard he nearly fell off the balcony.

–

But, as always, Thorne’s sins and misdeeds caught up with them.

There were a couple of balconies on this facet of the palace. When two shadowy figures appeared in the one on their right, Thorne paled.

“Uh,” said Cress, squinting through the darkness. “Who’s th–”

“THORRRRRRNE!” one of them screeched, planting her hands on the railing. “THERE YOU ARE! WE KNOW IT WAS YOU, YOU CHEEKY SWINE!”

Thorne laughed nervously, his arm still around Cress. “Iko, I don’t know what you’re –”

“When I find you, I’m going to string you up from the rafters!” bellowed the other figure.

“Well, what are you gonna do from over there?” he yelled back. “Throw rocks at me?”

Iko’s voice was sweet. “We had the wrong balcony. Stay right there, would you?”

The shadowy figures disappeared back into the palace.

Cess looked up at Thorne in dismay. “What did you do?”

He winced. “I … may have put Cinder’s crown on the statue of Empress Xin?”

Her hand smacked her forehead. “That’s why you were held up? Because you pranked the sacred statue of the Fire Lady? How did you even get it up there, that thing’s like twenty feet tall – you know what, never mind. You are insane.”

“Hey, I’m a criminal mastermind. We’ll be fine –”

“Cinder’s a better criminal mastermind than you, and you should be very afraid.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He looked nervously at the other balcony. “We should, um, probably run –

what could happen

part one: sirens

part two: sailors

–

By the time he shuffles across the sand to stand at the pier,a crimson dawn is bleeding through the sky, painted with whorls of blushingpink and tongues of fire. The sea is as extraordinarily still as a god’s mirror.For a long minute Thorne smiles wistfully at the water, letting the horizon blurin his rheumy eyes.

Someone very wise once told him that mirrors always show youthe truth.

Today you pay yourdebt, the sea whispers to him as it laps at the shore. Today you return your borrowed life to the one who gave it to you. Today.

Thorne lowers himself a little painfully into his boat. Heunmoors it, and begins to slowly row out to the open sea, watching his cottagedisappear, then the pier, then the shore. When he’s held between the open airand the maw of the deep, he stops the rowboat, and waits.

It’s not long before she finds him.

Through the long years, he’s become weather-beaten, creasedand spotted with age – shorter, even! – but she hasn’t changed at all. Her eyeslike chips of blue sky, damp hair that curls around her ears, more frecklesthan the sky has stars. Ethereal as a constellation as a moonless night. Even thetattered dress is the same, ripped over one shoulder.

(He’s thoughtabout that torn strap before.)

The siren drifts closer until she can lay a hand on thewooden boat. “Carswell?”

Thorne smiles fondly. He might be a tired old bastard, buthe’s as handsome as ever. Mirrors never lie.

“Hey, Cress,” he said. “It’s been a while, huh?”

She furrowed her brow. “Is something wrong?”

Seagull-cries echo faintly from shore. The sea is tranquil,and there is peace in his heart. “No,” he says through the lump in his throat.“No. Everything’s all right ….” he laughs, and salt tears leak from his eyes,wrinkled with crow’s feet. “Everything’s all right.”

Crescent Moon’s eyes grow wide with wonder. She folds herarms on the edge of the rowboat, making it overbalance slightly. “You’recrying.”

He laughs again, swiping at his runny nose. “Whatsa matter,you never see anyone cry before?”

“Sirens don’t cry,” she whispers. “When the world weeps, weare the tears. And the world never stops weeping.” She traces the rowboat’swooden grooves with the pad of one finger. “Maybe that’s why we’re stillaround.”

Thorne folds her slim, cold hand in both of his. “I’vemissed you and your crypticness. Cress … you know why I’m out here. It’s time.”

“No,” she says immediately, curling her fingers around his.“No, it’s not –”

“Of course it is. Look around you … it’s a beautifulmorning. Thanks to you, I got to live so I could see it. I got to live so Icould hold your hand like this. And I learned to be unafraid again.” His voiceis gentle. “All I want now is to rest.”

Her face crumples. “But you’re the only friend I have.”

“Hey, hey.” He leans forward with a grin. “Maybe you’ll saveanother wayward sailor someday. You can stop little children from running intothe sea and sing them a lullaby or something until their parents find them – there’sloads of stuff you could do. You’re not going to be alone forever. Sometimesthe world can cry happy tears, you know?”

She sniffles, and nods.

“Well … if you’re sure.”

“Cress.” His vision is blurring. How was I ever afraid of her? “There’s no way I’d rather go.”

Her eyes are sad. She puts her dripping hands on his cheeks,bows his head, presses her forehead to his.

Through all the long years, his ghost has not forsaken him.Maybe now he’ll get to be her ghost,and repay another debt: a heart, borrowed; a haunting requited.

“It won’t hurt,” she says softly. “I promised you that once,remember? It doesn’t hurt.”

Thorne closes his eyes. “I know.”

And he lets her pull him down into the dark water.

–

So, I have this ruling from the judge.. heading on down to Earth to reverse the deaths of these 4 people.

“Demons,” said Konstantin, panting, A cold sweat broke over his brow.

“Yes,” said Vasya, and she smiled, the devil’s own child. The dark figure beside her smiled, too, a slow skull’s grin.

And then they were gone, silently as they had come.

@fandomaestheticnet winter event: the bear and the nightingale (the winternight trilogy)

“A prophecy then, vedma.”

“Why do you call me that?” she whispered.

The bannick drifted up to the bench beside her. His beard was the curling steam. “Because you have your great-grandmother’s eyes. Now hear me. Before the end, you will pluck snowdrops at midwinter, die by your own choosing, and weep for a nightingale.”

Vasya felt code despite the steam. “Why would I choose to die?”

the bear and the nightingale by katherine arden

I’ve been thinking about this one a lot. Cresswell AU based on the movie Notting Hill (starring Julia Roberts and Hugh Grant), gender swapped.

Cress is an awkward travel book store owner who lives a quiet little life. She has a solid group of friends that she sees fairly often and she gets enough excitement living with her eccentric roommate, Iko. She is quite content with her little slice of life until the world famous movie star, Carswell Thorne, unexpectedly shows up in her little shop.

He’s in London filming his new movie, a new space odyssey, and after briefly losing the paparazzi on his tail, slips into Cress’s book shop to catch his breath. He is instantly charmed by this strange person and they begin a sweet romance. 

Carswells gets Cress to come out of her shell while Cress shows Carswell what is important in life: family, friends, and pursuing your passions – even if you barely have enough to pay your rent. 

Their romance is perfect. That is, until life catches up with Carswell and Cress is suddenly thrust into the lime-light. Not to mention the fact that he failed to tell her about the fake relationship he has with the movie’s leading lady, all for publicity purposes, of course. 

Cress never signed up for all of this attention or heartache and Carswell is torn between the life he wants to lead and the life he thinks he has to lead. It all culminates in the movie’s famous line (gender-swapped):

“I’m just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him.”

Done in a similar vein, here are my AU/Crossovers for Moulin Rouge and Chicago. 

I’ve decided I’m going to be a teacher, just like Miss Stacy.

                                         𝒯𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝓇𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓁?

the lunar chronicles  → carswell thorne & cress darnel