layers of mountains

Set the warriors to sea in a ship stacked with shields, layers of swords, mountains of gold. Lay them out with their wife. With their child. Lay them out with their livestock, with the whole farm. The rain is not coming here. Not today. For today the gods welcome one of their own back home. So set the hero out on the soft waves that will carry him to the other side of the pink ether where he will float on fire until the ash consumes him like the mighty warrior he once was and like the legend he will become. The flames will dance over his possessions, his goblets and arrows, his blankets, his paintings, his passions. The flames will dance across his flesh like the soft fingers of the soft lover he left, and as he sleeps this last sleep, the fires will eat him away, the heat will write his skin across the night sky to join the constellations that will guide the sailors at the storm, the herders lost in the clouds, they will all come home by facing the direction his eyes are facing. The heavens are filled with smoke. This is history this is legend this is what we once were. Where the stories come from, what we are. When you fall in battle, they will take your body with the life you made in this world and set it off to sail behind you in the next, so that you will stay a king, remain forever the golden being you breathed as on this side of the mountain. When you pass, may your life follow you like a shadow into the light. When I go, bury me with nothing but my own skin. I spent far too many days trying to outrun this thing called mine, so if I set myself into your arms would you hold me like the earth, quietly? I am yours. Give me a field, give me a big sky. A mountain. Give me your mouth. I’m just looking for a quiet place that I could die inside of.
—  Anis Mojgani, “Cradle” published in Songs From Under the River
Three for the Planet

“Make a wish,” Gansey holds the fragile dandelion stem between two fingers. It’s positioned near his lips; he’s smiling, flashing brilliant teeth that are either a god-given gift or the product of thousands of dollars.

Blue and Henry exchange a glance, grinning. They lean in, their lips close to each others, to Gansey’s, and they blow. The seeds fly up and out, into their faces. One gets caught in Blue’s eyelashes and she laughs and laughs, Henry trying to free it. Gansey gets one in his mouth and he gags and spits dramatically. While they’re preoccupied the other seeds float away on the spring breeze.

It’s a gorgeous day: the sun shining, the sky blue, the mountaintop meadow green and dotted with colorful wildflowers. They’ve been traveling the globe for close to a year and they’re getting near to home. Blue insisted on a reunion with Adam and Ronan at the Barns to celebrate St. Mark’s. She also has her obligations, watching the Corpse Road with Maura. It’s been nearly two years since she first saw Gansey’s shade on the Road, nearly two years…

Gansey flops down on the rainbow picnic blanket that Henry bought while they were in San Francisco. It’s large and soft, vibrant, and smells like hundreds of campsites. Blue pounces on Gansey and Henry joins the pile. They’re a mass of arms and legs, their laughter loud and bright.

“What did you all wish for?” Henry asks. He’s wearing his circle shades from their festival days. His skin has darkened a little due to all of their camping but neither he nor Blue can come close to matching Gansey’s deep tan.

Blue hooks her arm around Henry’s neck and pulls him in for a quick kiss. “You can’t reveal your wishes,” she scolds, “that ruins the magic. Duh.”

“Oh, pardon me, Miss Lady,” Henry teases, kissing her nose.

Gansey thinks, “I wish that this would never end.”

Blue thinks, “I wish we could stay together forever.”

Henry thinks, “I wish for a thousand more days like today.”

Gansey kisses Blue’s cheek, leans across her and gives Henry a peck on the lips. They’re giggly, giddy. It’s impossible to believe that their grand journey is drawing to a close. They’ve spent every day and night together for almost a year, separating is inconceivable.

Blue laces her fingers with Gansey, with Henry. They watch the clouds, assigning shapes, interpreting meaning. They’ve done this countless times before, they are expert cloud watchers.

“That one is definitely a hippogriff,” Gansey observes. Blue made him listen to the Harry Potter audiobooks while they drove.

“Pshaw,” Blue refutes. “You don’t even know what a hippogriff looks like, Gansey.” She steals some of the mint leaves from his pocket, passes one to Henry. They’ve picked up each other’s habits.

“Hmmm…that one is probably a wish-granting fish,” Henry points to a floppy, vaguely fish-shaped cloud.

“Wishes everywhere,” Gansey muses. He props himself up on an elbow and looks down at Blue and Henry. He hasn’t planned what to say, though he’s thought about it often enough, at night while Blue and Henry sleep and texts Adam or calls Ronan; he still isn’t the best at sleeping. “How would you two feel about staying together? With me?”

Blue sits up and Henry does, too. It’s a serious conversation, a sitting up conversation.

“I think I would love that,” Henry says earnestly.

“Yes,” Blue agrees, “but how?” She’s still practical Blue Sargent, she needs to hear the plan.

“College,” Gansey says, “yes or no?”

Blue and Henry nod. Yes, yes they want college.

“Where?” Henry asks.

Gansey grins. “Adam’s?”

Blue snorts. “Oh he would love that.”

Gansey nods. “He really would. Ronan will be so jealous.”

Henry plucks a bug out of Gansey’s hair. “They have the program I want to major in. What would you study, Blue?”

Blue is quiet, studying the magnificent view, the layers of mountains fading into the horizon. Being one with the planet, finding her roots in the earth and her dreams in the stars is her way. Does she need college?

“I’ll figure it out,” she replies, leaning on Henry’s shoulder.

“We can get an apartment, or a house,” Gansey schemes. He gets to his feet and begins pacing. “Maybe Adam can move in, too. We’ll study and have parties and travel. Blue, we’ll get a place with land. There will be a room for you to create. Henry, what do you think?”

Henry climbs to his feet, grabs Gansey’s waist and twirls him, laughing as they waltz around Blue. “It’s marvelous, Sir Richard. And you know it.”

Gansey blushes a little. Henry kisses him, hands buried in Gansey’s hair. This is how they are, comfortable, happy, the three of them best pleased when they show each other love and affection. Blue is smiling just as much as Henry, as Gansey, when they pull her to her feet. Holding hands they spin in circles. Henry calls on RoboBee to play “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.” Blue requests “Feeling Good.” Gansey rounds out their dance party with “I Wanna Hold Your Hand.”

Their dance party attracts the attention of the other outdoor enthusiasts and before long there is a small crowd, dancing and making requests.

“Heeeey.” A guy with dreads and a Phish shirt says, addressing Blue. “Is this like for Earth Day?”

“That’s today?” Blue is surprised.

“Yeah, man,” the guy says. “Pretty awesome, right? This is like the most chill week ever. I’ve been smoking ever since Thursday.”

Henry and Gansey and Blue smile and politely decline the reefer he tries to share. They watch the impromptu celebration unfold, the eclectic group coming together around their rainbow blanket.

“Good times,” Gansey murmurs and pulls Blue and Henry to him.

And it was.

Blankets of Fortitude

Intro: Blanket Fort x Jim Kirk

Pairing: Kirk x Reader

Word Count: 1,267

Triggers: None.  Just a blanket fort and fluff for days. 

Summary:  You and Jim are in a relationship and he has been working very hard for the last few weeks so you decide to surprise him with a gift (may or may not be a blanket fort) - fluff ensues. 

ALSO: lots of fluff. 


“Y/N!  Where are you?  I really don’t have time for this!" 

You heard Jim’s voice traveling through the bookshelves before you saw him. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest, waiting for him to find you.  

"You know, I am the captain of this ship and I really ought to be getting back to the Bridge.” Jim stated again, sounding slightly exasperated. 

Finally his yellow-shirted form appeared around the corner of the bookshelf and he stopped at the end of the aisle, looking at you with a mix of confusion and surprise.  You spoke before he could. 

“James Tiberius Kirk, will you shut up for once in your life?” You ordered, a smirk on your face.  

He looked at you through furrowed brows, his mouth partially open and he looked like he was going to say something but was frozen.  

“What is all this?” Jim asked, when he finally found his words. 

You smiled, “a present for you!” You exclaimed, “you have been working so hard lately so I thought you deserved a break.”

Jim still didn’t smile back.  You wanted to punch him for it.  

“So you made me a blanket fort?” Jim questioned, his face suddenly looking very tired and weary and you wanted to go up to him and smooth the worry lines off his face.

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