#he makes a whole show of fussing over it afterwards but lingers a little too long turning your hand over and looking at it from every angle

[yapperina]

do you think rafayel is the type to bite down on your ring finger hard enough for the imprint of his teeth to really stay there for a while. he'll apologize and say that it wasn't on purpose, but the way he sneaks glances at it later tells you a different story

[skygemspeaks]

fic concept where xie lian, early into his second banishment, finds out that if he goes to offers prayers at one of mu qing or feng xin's temples, they will always inevitably show up to see him, each time in a different form and pretending not to know who he is

they think they're being SO slick, but xie lian always manages to clock them immediately, because they're not very good actors and because he knows them better than he knows himself. he doesn't say anything though because he's afraid to scare them off. they'll usually hang around to talk to him for a few hours, and it's just. it's nice. to not be alone for a little while. to know that they still care, even a little bit.

(he knows they don't care about him, not anymore, not after all he's done. he knows that their need to keep tabs on him is probably due to a lingering sense of loyalty to the crown prince they had once loved so dearly, the crown prince who had died long ago. he tries not to think about that)

after he ascends for the third time, he wonders if either of them will come talk to him, as themselves for once. they don't. he tries not to be too disappointed by it.

then, he's tasked to take care of the ghost groom on mount yujun, and then nan feng and fu yao show up as volunteers to aid him in his quest, and xie lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. he wonders if it's just going to be like this from now on. he decides not to say anything though because even this is better than nothing.

then they come with him to banyue pass, and when they return to puqi shrine afterwards, he invites them to stay for dinner.

they both decline, ready to make their escape, and xie lian can't help it. he starts crying.

they both immediately freeze in their tracks, horrified, before immediately rushing to him and starting to fuss over him, asking if he's okay, if he's gotten hurt.

(it's at this point that hua cheng decides to make a discreet exit for them to have this conversation in private)

"i-i'm sorry!" xie lian sobs, tripping over his words as he desperately wipe at his tears. "i just-i just thought it would be different after i ascended again!"

fu yao and nan feng are both baffled. "you thought what would be different?" asks fu yao hesitantly.

xie lian flails his arms between the three of them. "THIS!" he wails out loud. "but now you're LEAVING again and-and-and you won't even show me your real faces so i can apologize to you properly for everything i did wrong!"

nan feng and fu yao feng xin and mu qing turn to stare at each other in mounting horror as those words sink in.

"Your highness, you knew this whole time???" demands feng xin, his face beet red from embarrassment.

"why didn't you say anything?" mu qing hisses through his teeth, turning his head in an attempt to hide his mortification.

"because i thought if i did, you wouldn't come back!" xie lian replies, still sobbing

feng xin and mu qing both lock gazes, having a wordless argument as they try and figure what to do now that their covers have been blown.

in the end, feng xin is the one that gives in first, taking a deep breath as he gathers up his courage and lets his disguise drop. he steps forward, and pulls xie lian into a rough embrace.

"your highness, you have nothing to apologize for," he says. "we're the ones that did you wrong."

xie lian is still sobbing, but he's clinging onto feng xin like his life depends on it, and he's shaking his head in denial.

"you both stayed by my side longer than i deserved!" he insists. "if i had just listened to mu qing and swallowed my pride, things wouldn't have gotten as bad as they did!"

now mu qing steps up, and though his face is still flushed red, he looks determined as he joins the embrace.

"regardless of who was right or wrong, that didn't give me the right to treat you the way i did that day, your highness....i'm...s-sorry."

xie lian shakes his head again, ready to argue, but mu qing stubbornly speaks over him.

"the reason we came to you in disguise was because we were too ashamed to show our faces to you. we hope your highness will forgive us."

xie lian insists that there's nothing to forgive, and in the end, feng xin and mu qing both end up staying for dinner anyways, though they're saved from having to eat any of xie lian's cooking when hua cheng returns from his impromptu walk with some food that had been given to him by the neighbours for helping them with some tasks while he was out.

[rek1s-headband]

hi could i request something? basically just HCS about langa and reki when you guy get into a fight or sum idk LMFAOO, you dont have to do this if you dont want to tho <3

➯ A/N: Thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy. I added a few characters, hope you don’t mind:)

➯ When you guys get into a fight

➯ Characters: Langa Hasegawa, Reki Kyan, Kaoru Sakurashiki, Kojiro Nanjou, Hiromi Higa and Miya Chinen x gn reader

➯ Warnings: angst if you squint, fluff

Langa:

Ok the majority of your fights are generally because of a miscommunication. If things aren’t spelled out for the poor boy, he’ll be completely oblivious to what’s bothering you

When you finally snap, he always seems shocked, asking why you hadn’t said anything sooner, even if you’d been trying to hint at it all week

Not really one to shout, but if things get heated enough he might snap. He always feels awful afterwards though. No matter what, he really believes no one should be screamed at because of something as silly as a disagreement

Rarely storms out, he’s always going to try and stay until the end to try and get something, anything out of you that he can use to try and understand your point of view

Understands space. He knows when you dont feel like talking to him, and he will give you that time to collect your thoughts. When you’re ready to speak again, he’s all ears

Gets overwhelmed really easy. It doesnt really show in what he says, but when you raise your voice his brain goes to putty and he can feel his breath get narrow. He’s not scared, he just doesn’t want to be the reason you’re feeling like this.

Never lets you go to bed angry. He’ll give you your space, but if you’re still quiet by bedtime he’s making sure you’ve eaten and you’re not still really upset by whatever played out that day

Overthinks a lot. How long did he not realise you were upset? What if its actually a much bigger deal than you’re letting on? What if you leave? Of course, he knows a lot of it is completely irrational, but it still lingers in the back of his mind, so you can imagine how relieved he is when the fight is over and you’re back in his arms

Asks people for advice a lot. Reki and Cherry are usual helpers, giving Langa their opinions on the matter without going into too much detail. The rest is up to him.

Gives the best hugs and comfort after a fight. He understands couples can fight, and never really takes the aggression let out by the pair of you too seriously. Rubbing the back of your head and holding you close to his chest, he’ll reassure you that he’s not going anywhere, that he’s not going to leave “just because of a silly fight” while you fight back tears on his shoulder.

Reki

Unlike Langa, Reki is a very open person in terms of his feelings, so your fights are rarely because of closed away emotions. However, many are caused by you feeling he is spending too much time in his workshop, overworking himself and not spending as much time with you as he should.

As for Reki, he gets mad when he feels you’re being closed off from him, not telling him things and hiding your true emotions. It’s not that he doesnt trust you, he just doesnt want you shouldering anything by yourself, and tries to make things easier for you by halving the problem.

A very emotional person, and this really shows when the two of you argue. There’s a lot of tears, a lot of raised voices, yknow those exhausted laughs when you’re tired of arguing with someone? Those. He pulls at his hair a lot in frustration too

Both of you need to walk away from each other a lot during arguments. You’re both driven by your emotions, so its hard to think logically once you’ve both gotten really upset.

The type to sit outside a door after an argument if you’ve locked yourself in a room, pressing against it and quietly talking to you, regardless of whether or not he gets a response

Understands space, to a certain extent. He’ll try and talk to you after an argument, try anything to get you to just answer him, to come out from your room, to stop ignoring him. He knows when you really don’t want to face him though, which is when he’ll go out for a while, either to Langa’s for advice, or just for a quiet skate.

Despite how upset he gets in the moment, he gets over it quickly. Once he’s out of his head and seeing properly, he’ll take some time to think it over and see things from your point of view. He’ll come back to you with an apology, and when you’re ready to talk, he’ll discuss things with you this time around instead of fighting

If the fight lasts overnight, he refuses to let you take the couch. If he feels a fight will last, he’ll glue himself to the couch, making it impossible for you to sleep anywhere other than your bed. No matter what the fight was about, he refuses to have you sleep uncomfortably.

Tends to cry after making up. It’s rarely out of sadness, of course, more relief than anything. He’s just happy to have you back in his arms, no longer ignoring him.

Cherry

A very rational person, fights are very rare between the pair of you. When you do fight, it tends to be because you feel he’s being closed off from you, not being as open and emotional with you. As for him, he doesnt like when you act too aloof about things that are actually serious to him

Fights start out quiet, talking in normal tones and using your heads. However, as the fight goes on, your voices gradually get higher and louder, arms thrown in the air as you get in each other’s faces.

He snaps quite a bit. Petty remarks, snappy replies and other unnecessary comments are thrown out without much thought as he gets more pissed off. Not necessarily because he doesn’t have anything to defend himself, but because once he’s started, he’ll do just about anything to piss you off

Depending on the fight, it could last an hour or a week. Both of you are so petty that you’ll refuse to apologise to the other, forgetting who was even in the wrong in the first place

Honestly, whoever goes to sleep first gets the bed, he’s not as considerate as Reki. However, as the fight goes on, the pair of you will stay up for ungodly hours into the night, trying to outlast the other because they dont want them sleeping on the couch. You’ll never admit that though, which is why you wont just fall asleep on the couch first. Besides, if you happen to fall asleep on the couch before Kaoru goes to bed, he’ll carry you upstairs and sleep on the couch himself. He’ll never admit that though, he’ll simply say you woke up and went upstairs in a hazy half-sleep, which is why you dont remember.

He’s definitely programmed Carla to apologise to you for him at least once, rolling her into the room you’re in before quickly walking out to the sound of “Y/N, I-am-very-sorry-and-I-was-wrong-please-forgive-me” in Carlas robotic voice

If you ever go to Joe’s restaurant to cool down, he’ll make a big fuss, swaying and sighing, dramatically shouting about “however will these lovers reconcile!?” Once his act is over though, he’ll comfort you and give you your favourite meal, tutting over the pair of you and thinking of ways to help you make up

Literally won’t let you go of you for at least a week after you fight. This mf is hanging off you, constant forehead kisses, the whole deal. He’s gone without your affection for a long time while you fought, he’s simply making up for lost time

Joe

You get really pissed at him when he flirts with other girls. He doesn’t mean to, he’s just a bit of a girl magnet and it’s his nature to entertain them. Of course, he all yours, but he forgets sometimes that jealousy is actually a thing

Doesnt take arguments as seriously as he probably should. He’s the type to tell you to “calm down” in the worst possible moment, its usually what makes you explode, actually.

Absolutely dense. The type to listen to you shout for five minutes, and only then have the audacity to ask you just what your problem was

It’s not his fault, bless him. He’s just a little unobservant when it comes to your emotions. When he realises you’re actually upset though, he’s apologising profusely and promising to never do it again

His apologies are always so genuine, you generally forgive him. However, if he does something that really pisses you off and you dont forgive him, he’ll give you space to think

Fights are usually resolved within a day. Like Langa, he refuses to let you go to bed angry

Cooks for you every meal regardless of whether or not you eat it. He’ll leave meals outside your door as a sort of truce, quietly pressing against the door and asking you to please come eat with him, that he hates the idea of you holed up in there all alone

Like Kaoru, he tends to reply with snarky remarks that have little to do with the argument, but they have a little less bite to them. More petty, if anything

Another big reason for why fights never last long is because this man literally. Will. Not. Survive. Without. You. You’ll be trying to ignore him while he comes in every five minutes, asking you how to get a certain channel on the TV, or stupid things you know he’s only asking because he misses talking to you

After you make up, he literally wont even look at another girl for at least a week. Mf will literally turn his head the other way if a girl comes near him, shouting about how he’s spoken for

Shadow

The biggest hothead. He says a lot of things he doesn’t mean in the moment, which will cause you to storm out and he’ll immediately regret it

The fight almost immediately escalates past hushed voices, swear words thrown around as you get in each other’s faces

He’ll get really upset, but he’ll mask it with being pissed off and angry, clashing pots around and acting like a literal baby. He doesnt want to admit it, but he always feels awful right after a fight. He knows youll need a bit of space after the intense shouting, so he’ll give you that space before even attempting an apology

Aggressively cares for you. Like he’ll say things like “I made food, it’ll taste like shit if you leave it, so I suggest you have it now” or “nope, I want the couch, I’m gonna watch something” he’ll never admit it, he just wants to make sure you’re alright even while fighting

If the two of you go to S while fighting, it’ll be very obvious. Usually you’re attached at the hip, but now you couldn’t be further apart. However, he’s still looking out for you, keeping an eye on you to make sure you’re alright. If you’re ever getting hit on by some creep, the fight is forgotten and he’s back at your side, daring the stranger to come any closer to you.

Reki is always the first to notice, poking him and pushing you over to him, trying to get the two of you to make up. Surprisingly, it actually does help clear the air

He can never stay mad at you for long though, he’s completely soft for you

Makes you bouquets to try and apologise. He’s taught you a lot about the meanings of flowers, so he’ll specifically pick ones with hidden meanings like “I’m sorry” or “I love you”

Not very good with verbal apologies. He knows when they’re needed though, and they are usually delivered through a series of grumbles and sad expressions. The thought is there though

Gives very gentle, long hugs after you make up. He’ll hold you close, suggesting a date or a movie to help the two of you relax

Miya

Literally the biggest bitch out of the six to fight with. He’s so petty, he will refuse to admit he’s wrong for the longest time. Once he’s in, there’s no accepting he’s not right

At least for a while anyway. He’ll start to feel bad once he sees just how upset you’re getting, frustrated with his inability to see anyone’s point of view but his own

King of the silent treatment. He’ll hide away behind his switch, drowning out his guilty thoughts with the white noise of animal crossing

He’ll skate to take his mind off things, practicing new tricks until he’s exhausted

Makes really snide remarks that have absolutely nothing to do with the argument. The type to bring up shit that happened 4 months ago just to help his case

Reki is usually the one to make him see sense, telling him just how petty he’s being, and that he cant get so defensive when he’s in the wrong. He knows this, obviously, he just can’t help it sometimes.

Although he’s not one for real apologies, he’ll slowly begin to stop ignoring you, bringing you small snacks or sending you funny things he saw on his phone. He’ll sit beside you, acting as if it was completely unintentional, but will slowly inch closer and closer until he’s curled up at your side, mumbling about how he wasn’t completely right after all

Will literally hit anyone who tries to comment on how the pair of you have made up, talking about how “its not even that big of a deal, just shut up”

Ad*m

Yall fought cause y’know. He’s ad*m

Sat outside your house with a speaker and an ugly ass sign. It started raining and his sign got ruined and his makeup ran

You broke up with him and he cried

Slipped in the rain while leaving <3

[elionwriter]

MY FAV STAR WARS COUPLE DYNAMICS:

(for the sake of this post let's all just pretend no one dies, ok?)

Anakin - Padme: their relationship started with pure drama and really bad, corny pick up lines and it just goes on that way. Even when they are happily exiled on Naboo with their children and everyone knows about them, whenever they talk about their love or tell the story to Luke and Leia it's always with the tones of a 'larger than life situation'. Obviously Anakin is the drama queen who really pushes it (and is still salty he had to give up his title as Jedi Master) but Padme fell for him when he did the whole whiny speech about sand and married him, she secretly supports this s***t! 😝

Han - Leia: bickering is their love language. Screaming to impose supremacy is their flirting. The thing is, they never bicker for serious stuff, because they actually agree on what matters and get along as a couple, it's the principle of things! Sometimes a friend of Ben overhears them and goes 😱 "I'm really sorry for intruding on this, pal. Will your parents be alright?" And Ben with the calmest expression will answer "They literally do this all the time". It's the silence that's worriesome. When Leia is just too tired to keep fighting after hours of doing so with politicians, when Han doesn't bother to stay to face the argument and just hops on the Falcon again, THAT'S when they realise they are falling out. So they push duty and lust for adventure aside to go back spending quality time together and patching things up. Sure enough, the bickering starts again and Ben is like "😌 aaah everything is fine again".

Din - Luke: they are the picture perfect couple. They literally never argue, at best they poke eachother when one of the two does something the other doesn't entirely agree on. They have each other's back in any instance, support every choice and are there for backup when others want a fight or have something to say either on Din's leadership or Luke's approach to the Jedi code and teachings. It took them forever to actually get together because they acted like shy teenagers on their first crush and Leia, Han and Cara had to practically push them into each other's arms, but once they got there they were solid a couple as a rock. Others look at them and think they are either disgustingly mushy or still in a 'honeymoon face', because NO ONE has such a stress-free marriage. Din and Luke truly don't get what the fuss and all the drama's about. So even though they end up practically parenting the space version of the kids from 'Cheaper by the dozen' they act like parental figures to their friends as well. Life as Manda'lor and the Reviver of the Jedi order can be hell, but together they are just balanced like that and can face everything! They even create a new co-op fighting style for Jedi/Mandalorians that becomes the terror and amazement of the Galaxy for centuries to come!😌😏💪

Kannan - Hera: very similar to Dinluke except they do at times have some small moments of tension because Hera is a fighter to the core and Kannan can't help but wonder if the battle will ever truly end. But his queen's passion and resolve is so bright and steeled that he can't help but fall in love a little more every time and follow, knowing it's the right thing to do. They have an example to set for their son, after all. Kannan will absolutely love Jacen and will introduce Ezra to his son (once Sabine and Ashoka bring him back) as his older brother. Much like when he trained Ezra or faced Sabine, Kannan will sometimes doubt himself and wonder if he's acting like a good parent to Jacen. Hera will smile and reassure him, describing to him the bright and happy smile on their son's face or how Jecen's nose scrunches and his long, greenish ears wiggle in delight whenever Kannan plays with him or cuddles him. As Hera says so, Kannan holds her and feels like he can actually see it too.

Sabine - Ezra: After Ezra is brought back to his family from wherever or whatever happened to him after facing Thrawn, both of them will just indulge in sudden hugs or touches to make sure the other is actually there. Of course, they first think of their bond as a solid friendship and camaraderie, because that's what it was when they left off. The extra touching is just the response to being apart for so long and being worried for each other. But then Sabine notices that Ezra actually looks really good with long hair and the scruffy beard he grew out. She catches herself thinking of how warm and safe if feels in his arms and mentally kicks herself because she's a Mandalorian, all she should need is a loaded blaster to feel safe. Ezra, on the other hand, starts playing with Sabine's hair when complimenting her new dye and suddenly finds himself cupping her face like it's the most natural thing in the world. Long story short, they fall for eachother hard and become the prototype of the couple "my boyfriend/girlfriend is my best friend". When they are comfortable with their new status, Ezra goes back flirting dorkishly with her like he did all those years back when they first met and Sabine will tease him by shooting his advances down.

Ashoka - Bo Katan: joke's on Bo-katan for cringing back in the day at her sister's relationship with a Jedi. She thought destiny or the force or whatever was really messing with her when she realized that her rival and pupil, Din Djarin, the new leader of Mandalorians was also falling helplessly in love with a Jedi (Obi-Wan's student nonetheless). When she hears Sabine Wren and her Jedi boy also got together she stops questioning it. The thing is that she herself has been inexplicably, undeniably charmed and hooked to a Jedi for years now. The very same Jedi she had teased didn't have enough booty, what felt like a lifetime prior. But she's Bo-Katan, she can be in angry denial about anything. Ashoka, on the other hand, has seen and has been conditioned too much on what attachment does to a Jedi, even if she doesn't consider herself one anymore. So, even if the chemistry between them and the long lingering stares are real, their love is always kept a quiet, unspoken thing. Whenever they call eachother "my old friend" they know they actually mean more, but leave it at that. Everyone around them can't help wondering 'are they a thing or...?!' but they never feed the theories and gossip. They know what they are and mean for each other when they are alone in the same room, talking about the past or what must be done in the future and Ashoka's mere presence is enough to cool down the ever-present burning rage inside of Bo. Meanwhile, the other can't help but admire how single minded and devoted to her people and culture the Mandalorian princess is, how she never gave up on them, despite everything. They smile softly at each other, then one of them breaks the spell by leaving. They go back to their own business and life untill destiny or the force or whatever brings them back into eachother's orbit.

Revan - Carth: normally they act very much like Leia and Han with the bickering and teasing bit but then Revan has one of her memories returning or is haunted by how she basically condemned her lifelong best friend Malak to a terrible death and Carth instantly does a 180° shift becoming the most caring, comforting and tender partner. She'll hide into his chest until the crisis in over. Sometimes it can go on for days and Revan is oh, so grateful of how patient and good Carth is to her. Then, at times, Carth is the one burying his head in her chest and she's the one doing the tender, hair strokes. Carth needs a lot of reassuring and might get upset and fret over even what appears to be a trivial thing. He's trying to heal and get better but the long, long years of solitude, hurt and paranoia are hard to iron down. Expecially when Carth seems to have an instinct that puts a Jedi to shame, foreseeing a crisis neither she nor Bastila had picked up. But he is making an effort to improve and she's proud of him, even as he tries very clumsily to patch things up with his son Dustil. She doesn't really step in that matter more than she has to, since Dustil is clearly not happy nor comfortable with the idea of them being together yet. Carth will sometimes open his heart to her and say something deeply meaningful on how he wants her to stay ( when she looks particularly haunted and about to leave without a work of warning) and be happy but does so with such awkward word choices that Revan just cannot refrain from laughing at his face and making puns. It's at this point that the back and forth teasing resumes. There is no denying they are still deeply wounded individuals and they are at their best when their friends are there to lighten the mood and show love to the both of them. Because they could easily go down the path of drama like Anakin and Padme but they choose the Ebon Hawk crew shenanigans instead.

Obi Wan - Satine: their love is stored in the memory of that glorious time they spent together in their youth. A moment in which no responsibility or sense of honor could keep them from giving in to that feeling of want and need for each other. It's a love that never truly went away, never left space for anyone else, but it never fully grew and bloomed either. So years down the line, that's what it is for Obi-Wan, a pleasant memory. He would never change how things went afterwards, but he wouldn't give up those memories and feelings for anything in the world. Satine feels the same, mostly. There are nights that she falls asleep wondering what could have been if only she had talked up at the decisive moment and dreams of a life spent together with Obi-Wan. But when she wakes up, she sobers up and goes back to her things. It's when she looks at her Korkie smile and notices how resembling to his secret father he is that she is truly at peace. She managed to keep a peace of Obi-Wan in her life.

Cal - Merrin: I have no idea for this one, but just stop and consider the possible 'nightsisters babies' though! Wouldn't they be the cutest things ever?! 😀

Sorry Cara Dune, you just haven't met the woman of your life yet. 😔

Also, I kinda like Zeb and Callus too but I don't really ship them enough to add them here, you know? Anyway I'm sure they make a lovely couple.

[captainsolare]

Also Sol, I'm here to request for your Event, if I may 🥰🙈 The dice is such an awesome idea 🥰♥️

May I please have a Rhya (Black Clover) fluff, roll 2 times for AU, 3 times for dialogue prompt and 1 time for trope, please? 💘🙈

I hope I got that right, sorry if it isn't right 😂😭 anyway happy writing! And feel free to ignore it if you don't feel like writing it 💓 also happy anniversary and happy birthday Sol darling 🥰♥️

A/N: Hello my lovely!! I hope you enjoy this! I apologize that it's so late :)

Rhya Fluff + Teacher AU! + My friends dared me to ask you out but you actually said yes + “You’re such a dork.”

The faculty lounge was largely empty, save for Rhya, the chemistry teacher, slumped over his desk snoring lightly. You stood in the doorway, sweaty hand clutching the strap of your bag tightly. You sighed quietly, cursing your fellow teacher friends for making you agree to this.

Making your way across the room you stopped at the sleeping man’s desk, heart pounding as you stood over him.

“What’s up Y/N?” He asked, voice gravelly from sleep.

“How did you know it was me?” You blinked, taken aback.

He sat up straighter and stretched, arms shaking as the muscles began to wake up. A finger pointed to the floor, “It was your shoes, they make a distinct sound. That’s how I knew it was you.”

“Oh.” You swallowed uncomfortably, suddenly feeling self conscious as you glanced at your shoes. Do they really make a specific noise?

“Well, did you need something? It’s unlike you to come into the faculty lounge this late.”

You tucked your hands behind your back, rocking on your heels.

“Um… well you see… You can totally say no, but I was wondering if you’d be interested in going out on a date with me?” You clasped your hands tightly together, half praying he’d say no and put you out of your misery.

Rhya stared at you for a long moment, if he was surprised he didn’t show it, instead he had the same bored expression he usually did.

You braced yourself for the impending apology.

“Sure. Tomorrow night sound good?”

You took a sharp breath, surprised by his answer, “Sure, that sounds great! I can meet you out front after work?”

He nodded, “Sounds good. See you tomorrow Y/N.”

“See you tomorrow Rhya.”

You tried not to listen to the sound of your shoes as you walked across the linoleum floor. As you paused in the doorway to risk one last glance into the room, you could have sworn you saw him smile.

-

Your phone landed on your bed with a thump, the ringing tinny as it rang on speakerphone.

“Hey there Y/N! What’s up? Got the hot goss?”

You rolled your eyes, “Would I be calling this late if I didn’t?”

Practically feeling Kasumi smiling on the other end of the line you relented,

“We’re going out tomorrow night.”

Kasumi gasped, “Oh my gosh! He really said yes? That’s so exciting! What are you going to wear? Where are you going? Eek! I’m so excited for you, you’ve had a crush on him for like, forever.”

You took a deep breath, Kasumi was always like this; her mind ran at about a hundred kilometers a minute, fast and incessantly making your life more interesting, sometimes, like tonight, more difficult.

“Yes, he said yes. I don’t know what I’m wearing or where we’re going. And it has not been forever! More like 2 months, if that.”

She tutted at you through the phone, “You know we all see the way you two looked at each other when he came into the lounge for the first time.”

You scrunched your nose at her even though she couldn’t see it, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. I just hope it goes well.”

Kasumi’s laugh was crackly through the speaker, grating on your already frayed nerves, “Don’t worry! It’ll be fine.” A brief pause, “Well, I’m exhausted, so I’ll catch you tomorrow ‘kay? I expect you to call me with all the juicy details afterwards.”

“Yeah, goodnight Kasumi.”

The call ended with a beep and you collapsed on your bed, her words echoing in your mind.

It’ll be fine.

-

You fussed over your appearance in the staff bathroom mirror. Did you look okay? Where were you going? Did Ryha say yes as a joke? Did he like you too?

The questions ran through your mind like a swarm of bees, a low hum that wouldn’t go away.

Finally, you decided that you could put it off no longer, you needed to go outside and face the man you’d asked out on a date.

He was standing by the school gate, a dress shirt and slacks with a blazer looked wonderful on him. He still had the same bored expression on his face, but it brightened slightly as you approached.

“Hey there, you ready? You look good by the way.”

Your cheeks grew hot at his words, “Yeah, I’m ready. You… look good too.”

He extended his elbow as a gesture for you to take it and you did, hooking your arm gently through the gap.

You walked down the street for a while, light from the street lamps illuminating the pools from the rain earlier in the day.

“So,” You said after a while, “Where are we going this fine evening?”

The corners of Rhya’s lips turned upward, “It’s a secret, but it’ll be great, I promise.”

Finally, you turned a corner and stopped outside a quaint looking restaurant; there wasn’t an obvious name anywhere on the establishment, but Rhya didn’t hesitate to open the door.

You walked inside and were greeted by a woman with pink hair, a flower crown placed lightly on her head.

“Hello! I have special seats reserved for you.”

“Thank you Fana.”

Rhya smiled thankfully, and you were led outside to a patio garden straight out of a fairytale. There were trellises covered in roses of all shades, bird baths and small fountains scattered around.

Fana led you down a stone path to a table in the center of the patio, lanterns hung around tossed delicate light over the space, lending to an atmosphere that felt ethereal.

There was a single tea light candle on the table, along with a single red rose in a vase.

Rhya pulled your chair out for you and you sat down, a menu soon placed in front of you.

Once Fana left you looked around, marvelling at the beautiful garden you were sitting in.

“Rhya, what is this place?”

“This is a little restaurant owned and operated by a few childhood friends of mine.”

Your mouth opened in a small ‘o’ as you looked around once more, seeing the setting in a whole new light.

-

The meal was enjoyable, Ryha was surprisingly good at making conversation once you got comfortable. By the time you were leaving the restaurant, you were grateful that your friends had made you go through this dare.

“Want to go on a walk before we head back to the school?” Rhya asked quietly once you were outside on the street.

You contemplated it, and decided that you weren’t ready for the magic of the night to end just yet. He gave you his arm to take once more and he led you down the city streets.

Wandering aimlessly you ended up in a square, there was a fountain in the center and a musician playing for patrons. It was a charming sight, the lights bathed the square in a soft light. Rhya cocked his head in a silent question and you nodded, making your way to the small crowd around the musician.

The musician’s assistant caught sight of you and smiled brightly, “Does the lovely couple want to dance?”

Both you and Rhya faltered, cheeks warm from being called out in front of a crowd and at the assumption that you were a couple. Rhya recovered quickly though and before you knew it he was extending a hand for you to dance with him.

He was surprisingly light on his feet, and dancing with him was easy. With several cheers from the crowd you danced to a few songs, hearts thrumming from the close contact.

-

Out of breath from dancing, you laughed and chatted on your way back to the school, hands barely brushing as you walked.

The parking lot was empty save for your cars. Your keys were in your hands but you were both still, not wanting to leave just yet.

Rhya caught your lingering gaze and you mustered up the courage to speak.

“Hey Rhya, would you maybe want to go out again?” You asked, hoping your voice didn’t betray just how hopeful you were.

“Yeah, I’d like that. I think we have a lot of chemistry.”

You smiled, then it dawned on you, “Rhya did you just--- did you just make a dad joke?”

He shrugged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Maybe I did.”

You rolled your eyes, “Gosh, you’re such a dork.”

Rhya cocked his head, a mischievous glint in his eye, “Yeah, but I could be your dork.”

Giggling, you gave him a swift kiss on the cheek, “Yeah yeah, see you tomorrow. Text me when you get home safe.”

“You too Y/N.”

As you drove away, Rhya stared after your car, fingertips lingering on the spot you had kissed.

“Wow.” Was all he could manage to whisper.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

This Christmas pt2

John Wick x Reader

Masterlist   This Christmas Masterlist

London It was the second day of the conference and Y/n had spent most of the day in John’s suite, giving his speech one final proof reading while he went over some paperwork. Outside of the hotel and the center where the week long event was being held, Y/n hadn’t really seen much of the expansive city, much too busy with work to do anything else. At first, back in New York she couldn’t really fathom why John would need her in London with him, but it had only taken the first evening to clear that whole matter up. Being there wasn’t just about five days of sitting in a auditorium listening to speeches and having meet and greets afterwards; there were cocktail parties with investors and potential clients, leadership luncheons, training sessions and a host of other work related events and while she wasn’t directly involved, Y/n could see how navigation would be made easier when there was someone to help with keeping track of the calendar and preparing material. 

It was boring though, at least for Y/n, and somewhat dispiriting, especially when every time she looked out the window or went downstairs to the lobby, all she was reminded of was the holiday she wouldn’t really be celebrating that year. On her last call with her mother, she’d encouraged Y/n to call its quits, a job was no good if it was making you unhappy and a boss that couldn’t care enough to give you week off after you’d been a perfect employee for the rest of the year just wasn’t worth the fuss. But Y/n knew that she’d never actually bring herself to leave, despite everything, John had become a huge part of her life and she cared about him, probably a tad more than she should. 

“Are you finished with that?” Y/n’s head snapped up at the sound of his gruff baritone, coming from the armchair near the electric fireplace. He had one arm laid on the upholstered arm of the sofa and one of his ankles was crossed over his knee while he held a pen in his left hand, absently tapping the pages as he awaited her answer. 

Using the joint of her thumb, Y/n pushed up her glasses, trying to ignore how the way the sleeves of his dress shirt, rolled up to his elbows, made his arms look bigger or how the way he had the top buttons undone had somehow added to how smoldering he usually was. John was her tough as nails boss, it would have significantly helped if he looked the part instead of looking like he’d just materialized from the page of a fashion magazine. “Uh...yeah, almost,” as she shifted on the long sofa, tucking one jean clad leg under herself while tugging on the hem of her grey sweater, Y/n forced herself to look away and pick her jaw up off the ground, “I can read faster or-”

“No, it’s okay. There’s still some time, don’t rush yourself,” he was so nonchalant and much more relaxed than she was used to him being. John was always  so tightly wound that sometimes it was hard to believe he hadn’t snapped yet. Though, that evening, in his hotel room with the roaring fire ablaze and nothing more than a pot of room service coffee shared between them, he seemed softer. 

Simply nodding with a tight smile, Y/n bent her head to continue with her reading. Her eyes scanned each line in search of any error and she was wholly focused on the task at hand, trying her best to not pay John any mind, not even when he stood from his seat, making his way over to the nearest window, slipping his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. “It’s snowing,” he broke the silence again, musing absently.

Once again, Y/n looked up, that time to find that he was still looking out the window. Nervous as hell about the sudden shift in his demeanor, yet still trying to welcome the new found side of John, Y/n stood as she finished the final paragraph, going over to meet him at the large window, sure to keep some space between them. Sure enough, white flakes were making the slow, picturesque journey to the wet sidewalk, while in other places, like on the lawn of a gated park across the street, it had started to gather, creating a blanket of white around the decorated trees. “It is,” Y/n hummed, still looking outside, “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” 

He shrugged and Y/n barely noticed when John spared her a lingering glace, only to turn away before speaking, “I guess it is,” an awkward silence was traded between them, and Y/n was pleasantly surprised when John was the one to break it, “What’s your favorite?”

“My favorite?” Y/n furrowed her brows, turning to throw him a curious glance, “I don’t think I understand.”

“Your favorite winter, I mean; here, New York, somewhere else. Where’s your favorite?” He clarified and Y/n was finding it hard to believe that he actually cared. John had never, not even once, asked about anything remotely personal, she didn’t even think he knew when her birthday was.

“Oh,” huffing a brief, wistful chuckle, Y/n barely thought on it, knowing her answer almost immediately, “Connecticut, you know, back at home,” John didn’t appear to have a response, and not yet ready for their little moment to be over, Y/n threw the question back to him, “What’s yours?” 

“Madrid,” he noted coolly, “Not a lot of snow most of the time, but it’s quiet, easy to stay away from the fuss.”

“The fuss?” 

Scrunching his nose, John nudged to everything outside; the colorful lights intertwined on the branches and around the trunks of trees, the decorations in storefronts and evening running along street lamps, “All of this. It’s not really my thing.”

“I know,” she glanced at him, and surprised to see that he’d just looked at her, their eyes meeting unintentionally, “But maybe you just haven’t given it enough of a chance.”

Shaking his head, John sighed heavily as he started retreating towards his bedroom, “You wouldn’t understand,” with another audible exhale, he closed his hand over the brass knob, “The symposium starts in an hour, we should get ready to leave.”

“Of course,” Y/n frowned. She was eager to know what exactly she wouldn’t understand, but John had changed the topic so quickly that it was obvious the matter wasn’t one he was going to elaborate on. “Let me just organize your things.”

She was still in the process of putting John's stuff together when he reemerged shortly after, that time with his hair neatened and wearing a suit jacket, button left open to show off the pinstripe tie he had paired with his dark shirt. Through her lashes, as she checked his devices to see if they’d have enough power for the rest of the evening, Y/n eyed him as he shrugged on a thick navy coat over his suit, subsequently slipping his key card into one of his pockets. 

“You should take a scarf,” Y/n blurted out, wringing her hands together anxiously the second the words fell out of her mouth. And then, when John didn’t catch on, she extended, “It’s cold out,” already, she’d started moving towards the bag he’d left on the love seat, rummaging through until she got a hold of a plain black scarf. Giving it a once over as she approached him, Y/n tried to hide the fall in her expression at its plainness, proceeding to stand on her toes and drape it over his neck anyways, “You wouldn’t want to catch a cold,” she said softly, still leaning in so she could fix and adjust to suit.

John stiffened her touch, his frame going rigid and his face more unreadable than usual. He didn’t say it, but Y/n knew that even if they were standing close and her hands would occasionally brush his shoulders carelessly, he was doing his very best to ensure he didn’t touch her. “You didn’t have to,” he breathed uncomfortably.

“I know,” she smiled faintly, finally stepping backwards to admire her work, “But you’re stubborn, so I wouldn’t want to risk you not listening,” tentatively, she reached out, brushing away any lingering fault on his shoulder, “There,” she pulled away, “All set now.”

“Thanks,” John sighed, avoiding her gaze, “Ready?” He shuffled past her, narrowly keeping his distance, going to collect the rest of his things as Y/n shrugged on her stylish fleece coat.

“Yeah,” Y/n lingered in the foyer, her eyes going wide after a moment, “My phone!” Y/n declared, hurrying over to where she’d left it charging at the small, round table near the window they’d been standing at just a short while ago.

Just then, three short, unhurried knocks at the door had John pulling it open to reveal Robert on the other side, dressed far more casually than John was. “You’re not on this one,” John noted hastily, his mind, as it always did, immediately going to work.

“I know,” Robert beamed, pocketing his hands in his coat, rocking back and forth on his heels, “I’m here for Y/n.”

“Huh?” Confused, she looked up from where she’d been stuffing her charger into her handbag, “What?”

“You can’t just take my assistant whenever you feel like it,” John scolded defensively, folding his arms, “Y/n is working tonight.”

Whistling lowly, Robert shook his head, “First of all, she’s not just your assistant, she’s Y/n, life outside of you and all that, and second, she’s been working all day. What do you need her to do anyways? Hold your hand and walk you to the conference center?” At the mention of hand holding, John’s face went beat red, though Y/n couldn’t tell if he was embarrassed or angry and Robert didn’t give John a moment to let them know, “Look, I’m sure you can manage without her for a couple hours, I just want to take her ice skating.”

“Ice skating?” Suddenly excited, Y/n perked up, more jubilant than he’d ever seen her, “That would be amazing! I swear, I’ll make up the hours tomorrow, or whenever you need me to,” she approached John, her doe eyes hopeful as she clutched her handbag in anticipation. 

Wincing, John gnawed on his lower lip as he debated her request. The wait seemed to go on forever, and right before he gave his response, Y/n was actually starting to worry that he’d say no. “Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes, “But only this one time.”

Flinging herself into his chest, Y/n grabbed John into a hug that undoubtedly caught him off guard, “Thank you,” she mumbled into his neck as she stood on her toes, only noticing that he had hugged her back just as they were untangling. “Good luck with your speech,” giving his arm one last squeeze, and feeling heat in her cheeks rise at his slightly softened expression, Y/n finally pulled away, half way out the door with Robert, “And I’ll see you tomorrow.”

By the time John had returned to the hotel, he was beat. All he wanted was to flop into bed after a hot shower, though, as appealing as the prospect was, he’d first have to drag himself out of the town car and through the golden framed doors of the entrance. Immediately upon entering, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief; even if it wasn’t his room, it was still far warmer than his few minutes spent on the sidewalk.

Slowly, he trudged past reception, ignoring all the fluff and frill of plastic green garlands, the huge tree in the center of the lobby and the shiny, colorful decorations that were inescapable at  every corner. Most times it was irritating, but there was the rare occasion, like that night, where seeing them stung a bit more than it annoyed him and John didn’t want to admit it, not even to himself, but he had a feeling that it had something to do with Y/n’s absence. 

He’d wanted her at the conference that night, not just as his assistant, but more so as the only person in his life that actually cared about him. Of all the meetings and gatherings that were being run that week, John had wanted her at that one the most. In his mind, he’d rationalized it by trying to convince himself that it was what made sense; Y/n had helped him write that speech, she’d sat in his office late at night, listening to every draft and she’d even acted as a sounding board for ideas that he wanted to test. Y/n had been with him for every part of it, until the very end, when all he wanted was to see her face in the crowd. 

But of course she’d chosen to spend the evening with Robert, who could blame her? John knew himself well enough to know that his employee was definitely much better company than he was, and the way her face had lit up at the mention of ice skating, he’d really be the Grinch if he took that away from her. And the last thing John wanted was to be the recipient of another one of Robert’s taunting jokes. 

With a heavy sigh, John was finally stepping out of the elevator having reached his floor, only to run into someone he didn’t particularly feel like having a conversation with. “Hey boss,” Robert nodded politely as he drew closer from the left side of the hall, still dressed the way he was when he’d picked up Y/n earlier, though with hair wind tousled. “How was your big speech?”

They were headed in the same direction, so really, John had no way of escaping the mineral chit chat. “It was good,” there was no way that John was going to let Robert know that it might have been better if Y/n were there; he might tell her. Worst yet, John was pretty sure that Robert had taken some sort of romantic liking to Y/n and he didn’t want to intrude on that. “How was ice skating?”

“Like you care,” Robert shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, scoffing lightly, “Though, if you must know, it was great. I had fun, and I think Y/n did too,” they were nearing the end of the hall when Robert stopped, rummaging around in his coat before producing his key card, “Well this is me, I’ll see you for the brunch tomorrow. Good night.”

He’d already slipped the card into its slot, and John had just started walking off, when a nagging thought had him halting with a wince and turning, “Why ice skating?” There were so many other places that he could have taken Y/n if he wanted to impress her; one of the many upscale restaurants, the London eye and the list went on but still, Robert had chosen something as juvenile as ice skating and she’d gotten so excited. 

Shrugging, Robert smiled tiredly, “She goes with her family every year. They go to the local rink, spend a couple hours and get cocoa after. And I don’t know, she just seemed a little down about not getting to do that this year, so I thought I’d take her, see if it would cheer her up.”

As John listened, his mind went back to that faraway look in her eye and Y/n’s soft, wistful smile when she’d mentioned that her favorite place to spend winter was back at home. Then he hadn’t known well enough to look for it, but maybe she had been upset. Had she been down for the entire trip? Was he really that selfish? John hadn't meant to be, and that certainly wasn’t something he wanted to take up with Robert, “Oh, well…..good. ‘Night Robert.”

As he walked off, John barely heard the other man’s response; he’d already started sinking into deep thought. With his head down cast and his brows furrowed, he let his mind tick away; he was going to make it up to Y/n, somehow. 

*****

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @magnificentclodpiebanana  @keandrews @greenmanalishi ��@rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves  @planetkt @wheretheriversrunintothesea

[whumpsterfire]

The Guardian Angel’s Doll - Prologue

cw: car accidents, hospitals

4169 words

It started with a car crash.

Well, not exactly. If Efrem thought a little more about it, things had already been set in motion. Of course, Efrem would make some bad choices afterwards this whole incident under the ill advice of their friend.  

But it was the car crash that really sealed their fate.

Efrem… absolutely hated being late. Kieron just had to come over last night, staying up late with Efrem with a new game he had wanted to show them. And it’s not like Efrem minded – they didn’t, they liked it when Kieron came over, liked watching him play and listening to his voice as he talked and hearing the way he laughed – but Kieron knew how much Efrem hated when he came over unannounced. At least send a guy a message, you know? Efrem had a schedule, a whole routine. Kieron just happened to fuck it up every time he appeared out of nowhere behind their door to visit them.

It was frustrating. Well, they got over the irritation after Kieron had hung around for a while. But still. He should learn some manners and try asking them when they’re free. Or send a warning, at the very least. That absolutely wasn’t too much to ask.  

In any case.

Kieron stayed over for the night and Efrem stayed up way too late. The man also happened to have that effect on them. Which in return made Efrem miss their alarm in the morning, made them rush out of the appointment ahead of Kieron – he wanted to sleep a little longer and Efrem didn’t have the time nor the patience to argue – and well.

Rushing to the streets, just woken up? Turns out that isn’t such a good idea.

Efrem had never thought that you would really see things in slow motion when you were in a dangerous situation. And well, they kind of didn’t. The colours of the world deepened for a while and Efrem was acutely aware of the loud screech of someone hitting the breaks of a car.  

Really, they hadn’t even seen it coming.

How did it feel to be hit by a car? That wasn’t an easy question to answer. Sure, Efrem wrote a lot but they mostly did laid-back slice of life comics about their own life. They tended to be very dialogue-heavy. No need to use copious amounts of purple prose to describe the colour of the sky when the sun rose, that feeling when you looked at your best friend smile when he told you about this new set of dice he had pre-ordered, or what kind of physical sensations were going on with who’s body at whatever moment.

So, the first word that came to Efrem’s mind was pain. The sound came first – a thud and a disgusting, wet sound of something in their body going crunch. Efrem was just going to assume that this is where they went flying, because the next thing they remembered was blinking sluggishly back to consciousness on the pavement and thinking:

Oh, that fucking hurts.

Their whole body hurt. A sharp, searing pain on their chest and arm. And fuck, their head throbbed with a dull pain. The crushing pain lingering on them had to be the most intense Efrem had ever felt. They laid on the ground, brain scrambled and limbs not moving no matter how much they tried and then...

Well, then they woke up in the hospital.

Efrem wasn’t one to exactly like hospital visits. They were an unnecessary evil, they supposed. They hadn’t stayed in hospitals for too much but they did have a few surgeries under their belt, some more recent than others. They were glad for the painkillers, that was sure. But let’s see, what had they told Efrem again?

They had been suffering from a concussion. Their left collarbone was broken, along with a cracked humerus and rib. Apparently Efrem had been lucky that the rib didn’t puncture their lungs or harm any of their organs.

Efrem didn’t feel especially lucky. What kind of ‘luck’ is it to get hit by a fucking car? Now they had to stay in the hospital. They would need to take time off from school. They would need to take a break from drawing their comic. They would need to make a new routine around the current state of their body and they hated that.

At least Kieron visited them. As much as Efrem hated to see the guy fuss over them, they appreciated the awkward hug, careful of their many injuries, and the company.

Efrem really, really appreciated Kieron’s company.

He obviously seemed to think that he was responsible for Efrem’s accident. No, Efrem didn’t think he was – they could have just slept earlier or put on more alarms so they wouldn’t miss theirs – but Efrem also... kind of didn’t think he wasn’t responsible. Not that they would ever say that to Kieron, not directly.  

In fact, they were hell-bent on proving the guy otherwise.

“Listen. I was careless. I got hit by a car because I didn’t make sure there wasn’t any coming and because I was in a hurry. I do that so often too – don't look at me like that, I know I shouldn’t - but nothing’s ever happened. I just... I got lucky those other times.”

Kieron looked at Efrem in that miserable way only he could – brows upturned and chewing on his lip like he tended to when he was worried.  

“But if I’d just gotten up and gone with you--”

Efrem rolled their eyes.

“Don’t blame yourself because I’m a dumbass”, Efrem said. Gods, Kieron really needed to get over himself about this. “This was bound to happen some time. It was only a matter of time, really.”

The other man didn’t look too convinced so Efrem let out an irritated sigh.

“I did this to myself and no, I’m not listening to you whine more about this. That’s that on that.”

That was that on that.

“You have to start being more careful, Em.”

“Yeah, I kinda got the message on that from the universe. Could’ve been more subtle.”

That earned a careful chuckle from Kieron. Despite Efrem’s general bad mood over well, starting their day by getting hit by a car, they found a small smile forming on their lips. Kieron tended to have that effect on them.

“Really, though. Getting hit by a car isn’t... it isn’t a small thing. You could’ve--” Kieron cut himself off, as if afraid to finish that though. Efrem was happy he didn’t. In that small moment of quiet, they didn’t know how to act. They swallowed.  

“I don’t know. I’m just glad you’re okay. Or that you know, you’re not worse”, he finally finished.

“Yeah.” Efrem agreed. “Me too.”

There was a small silence, where Efrem let the gaze of their dark eyes fall onto their lap. As much as getting into an accident like this sucked, they couldn’t help but think that they had definitely earned this. It was them who hadn’t been careful enough and them who had practically ran under the car driving by. So yeah, this was a painful lesson with a price they wouldn’t have preferred to pay but probably deserved anyway.  

Then there was the thing Efrem hadn’t considered they would feel: guilt. A part of them felt guilty for being so careless, for getting hurt and for having Kieron visit them like this. Efrem may have earned their lesson, but Kieron definitely didn’t deserve the scare of having their friend being wounded like this. Efrem knew they needed to apologize but they couldn’t bring themself to. For ending up here and for... not entirely thinking it was all their fault, alone. They bit their tongue.

“How long do you have to stay in the hospital?”

“Oh?” Efrem was caught off guard by Kieron’s question. “Oh, just for like, tonight. They want to keep me overnight because of the concussion.”

“Right. I mean, that makes sense. I’m glad you don’t have to be here longer”, Kieron seemed visibly relieved. Maybe he was understanding that a few broken bones really wasn’t that serious. That despite the accident, Efrem really was okay.

“Same. I honestly could go home already but they’d never allow it.” They knew for a fact they wouldn’t - Efrem had asked.

“Yeah, maybe it’s better they’re observing you for tonight”, Kieron said and it’s not like Efrem disagreed. They just preferred their own bed over this hospital one. They winced when their collarbone protested with their shrug.

“Hey... I know that you don’t care about shit like this, but I kind of have an idea. I mean, you’re gonna think it’s stupid and all, but...” Kieron started and Efrem hated when they started talking like this. No, Efrem didn’t think Kieron’s interests were stupid, even if they made fun of them sometimes. Yes, they wanted him to be able to talk to them about anything without having to feel so damn insecure.  

“What?” They urged Kieron to continue.

“There kind of this, ritual?”

Oh, it was that kind of stuff.

“Go on.”

“I was kind of thinking if you’d be interested in doing it? When you get home, I mean. I know it’s stupid, but I don’t know—this whole car accident thing got me kind of, well, scared? And if I knew that you did that it would put me at ease ‘cause well, at least I’d know that there was some small extra form of protection on you or something, like isn’t it better to do a ritual and go on with your life and not do one, even if you don’t believe in that stuff? And--”

“I mean, sure. I don’t mind?” Efrem said casually and before they could sound too much like they actually believed in whatever occult stuff Kieron had lately been into, they added: “If it puts you at ease, I mean.”

There was a beat of silence, where Kieron just blinked at Efrem. Efrem felt their face get warm. They looked away.

“What? I don’t have to if you don’t--”

“No, no! I’m just surprised, you know? Since you always say that this stuff isn’t really your thing or don’t seem too interested in it, so I didn’t think you’d actually agree to it”, Kieron admitted.

Efrem brushed some of their dreadlocks aside awkwardly.

“So, what is it like”, they asked, casually.

“Huh?”

“The ritual, Kieron”, Efrem said with a roll of their eyes.  

Kieron’s brown eyes lit up with excitement. They always did when he was talking about something he was interested in. Efrem loved to see it.

“It’s actually really simple.”

***

Efrem looked over at their room. They liked to keep things clean, so they didn’t need to make space for the ritual. It really did seem fairly simple. Kieron had sent Efrem a message with the details to this thing he called a ‘ritual for protection’. It was... something about connecting with the spirits that protected you to have them watch over you in everyday life, or whatever. Definitely not Efrem’s expertise or even something they believed in.

But well. They kind of wanted to do it for Kieron. Or well, to just put his mind at ease. And it would be easier to actually do the thing than to lie to him about it. Efrem didn’t like lying, anyway. They had agreed to do the thing so they would do it.

They had the room set up for the ritual. They had used chalk to draw a circle on the floor, just like the instructions said. It also said to use salt for ‘protection’, but Kieron knew Efrem’s vacuum cleaner was broken. Getting rid of the salt would be too much of a pain without one and Efrem didn’t know when they’d be able to buy a new one, so chalk would have to do for now.

And Kieron had said it was probably fine. If they ‘charged’ the chalk to protect them, it’d be cool. So that’s what Efrem did... they assumed. They didn’t really know how charging worked and how you would know if you succeeded in it or not. Still, they drew that circle and it didn’t look too bad, either.

There was an incense Kieron had given them to burn for the ritual. Sandalwood. Efrem quite liked the smell of it, too. They didn’t mind knowing that the smell would linger. Burning it like this, they noticed that Kieron kind of tended to smell like it.

Efrem thought it was nice.

They looked at the circle. So they had it drawn, they had the incense burning, they had the four candles burning – for each cardinal direction respectfully – and they had the herbs they were supposed to burn and the words they were supposed to say. Kieron had instructed to use white candles, but Efrem didn’t own four white candles. They supposed it wasn’t that important – two white candles, one red and one blue should do just as well.  

As long as they burned.

So they were ready. Efrem looked at the bundle of herbs Kieron had given them. They weren’t actually sure what it contained – it seemed to have several ones and Efrem had never been too good at recognizing plants. It wasn’t important for them to know what kind of plants there was in the bundle, though. Kieron was the one who knew about this shit and he was the one who gave them this.

Efrem pulled a lighter from their pocket with their hand that wasn’t out of commission and packaged up. They lit it up, bringing it to the herbs. They didn’t just start burning instantly, to their surprise. It took a little while of trying, but eventually, the fire took.

“And now I’m supposed to say...” Efrem couldn’t dig out their phone while they were holding the burning bundle of herbs. They didn’t want to put it down either – that didn’t sound exactly safe. They could remember this; they took pride in their good memory.

What was it again...?

“May the spirits keep me protected.”

Yeah, Efrem was pretty sure that was it.  

Silence followed. Having said the actual words, Efrem felt kind of... silly. They were facing the circle, standing a few feet from one of the candles – the one signifying South. They stood still, waiting the bundle of herbs to burn out as per Kieron’s instructions.

They waited. Standing became boring soon, so they sat down to wait.

And they waited.

The herbs stopped burning. That meant the ritual was done.  

So that... was it, then.  

Well, Efrem didn’t know much about rituals but they supposed that this wasn’t too bad. This pretty much aligned with Efrem’s idea of what occult-stuff was about, anyway. Drawing circles, burning incense and candles and herbs and saying things. Now when they had tried it out, they knew it wasn’t really their thing. But Kieron was free to be into it and maybe Efrem wouldn’t mind hearing more about this stuff on an occasion or two. The herbs would apparently go under Efrem’s pillow and everything else they needed to clean up. Maybe they should call Kieron up to help them with the chalk on the floor, that was going to be a bitch to wash away with Efrem’s broken arm--

Efrem blinked, looking at the circle.

There was a guy.

Standing in the middle of it.

And he was looking at Efrem.

They froze.

“Uhh.... hello?” Efrem could hear themself say.

That’s weird. The pain medication Efrem was on wasn’t supposed to be that strong.

The... guy, stood there, right in the middle of the chalk circle. His skin was brown and he had short and curly white hair. He was wearing some kind of a blue robe, and the thing seemed to flow with a wind Efrem couldn’t feel. His eyes were surrounded by thick, white eyelashes and his eyes seemed to... miss their irises entirely, with only small black dots in the middle of the white scleras.

He was smiling. With very, very sharp teeth.

Efrem found themself unable to move.

“Hello, Efrem”, the guy (? Creature?) answered. His voice was smooth and light, almost like silk.  

It was a beautiful voice, Efrem found themself thinking.

More silence. The thing kept looking at Efrem with his weird, unsettling eyes. This certainly wasn’t anything Efrem had expected. What did they do now? What was going on? It was too fast to jump to any conclusions, so for now they should get some information.

“You’re in my circle”, Efrem said, carefully. The thing’s feet shifted inside the circle. His eyes didn’t leave Efrem’s form.

“You invited me, Efrem”, he said, slowly. It almost sounded like he was... speaking with an accent. Like the words quite didn’t fit his mouth. It was... unnerving.

“I did?”

The thing looked at the circle around him, breaking eye-contact for the first time since his arrival. Efrem swallowed.  

“A ritual for protection, wasn’t it.” He smiled at Efrem again.

“Y....yeah. It was.”

“It is a very nice circle, Efrem.”

“Oh! Thank you... um. Do you have a name...?” Keiron hadn’t said anything about this. Anything like this wasn’t supposed to happen, was it! Not that Efrem really knew what exactly was going on, yet. Was Keiron pulling a prank on them? Was this one of his friend’s that he had put to mess with them? No, Keiron wouldn’t do that, especially since this was like, Efrem’s second day at home after staying at the hospital.  

“You may address me as ‘Zey’”, the thing responded after what seemed like a moment of pondering.

“Cool, cool”, Efrem nodded along. “So uh... I invited you. What exactly are you?”

“I am... your guardian spirit.”

He was a what? Not an answer Efrem had expected, nor was it one they knew how to react to. He seemed to be serious, though. What the fuck do you say to that?

“You mean like a, err, guardian angel?”

The creature’s face lit up, smile widening. A sense of terror sparked through Efrem – there were a lot of teeth. Too many teeth. It didn’t - it didn’t look natural. Efrem’s skin felt clampy with the cold sweat rising to it.

“Yes. Exactly like a guardian angel.”

Efrem didn’t know what to say. The room was starting to feel increasingly small – there was plenty of space around, but suddenly they felt claustrophobic. The thing – Zey – pinning them down with his eyes didn’t help much either.

Could he... could he really be a spirit...? There was no way, right?

Right?

“I’m so glad you invited me, Efrem. I’ve been watching you.”

Efrem blinked.

“You... have?”

The self-proclaimed spirit chuckled, looking at Efrem in a way that looked almost...

Adoring...?

“Well, I am your guardian spirit, aren’t I.” He said it like it was something obvious. “I haven’t been able to keep you safe properly until now, but...” Zey took a step. And another.

He stepped out of the circle, stopping to stand in front of the still-sitting Efrem. Efrem looked up at him and for the second time in the span of a few days, they found themself completely unable to move. He looked at Efrem and--

And--

His eyes were the only thing Efrem could look at. Like everything around them was left in the dark, Zey’s eyes the only light there.

Efrem was entranced.

“But now when you invited me to your world, I can finally touch you.” Zey reached down and Efrem didn’t even realize they were reaching for his hand before they made contact.

They took Zey’s hand. His palm was cold, colder than a human body would be.

“I must say, though, Efrem. This time it was me who managed to come through, but you could not be as lucky in the future.”

Efrem’s throat was dry. They could barely form thoughts – what was he saying? It was so difficult to focus on the words coming out of his mouth.

“Never, ever, forget the salt from your circles.”

That must have been when Efrem’s mind faded to black. The last thing they remembered was the sound of that voice, the feeling of that hand squeezing theirs and...

Those small, black pupils, fixed on them.

***

Efrem woke up in a room. It took them sitting up and a few blinks to realize that wait, this isn’t a room they recognize. They didn’t remember drinking, they didn’t remember... anything. What was this place? They were on a bed – it was a big, a double bed and a fairly comfortable one, too. They got up fast – too fast – and was hit by a wave of nausea and dizziness. Efrem had to squat down, waiting for it to pass.

They remembered... getting hit by a car. Shit, were they still alive? A quick pinch convinced them that yes, they must still be in the books of the living. What about any injuries...? They didn’t seem to have any.

Efrem guessed they had gotten lucky.

But they still needed to figure out where they were. They got up in the dimly lit room as soon as they started to feel more normal. There wasn’t much light, but there was enough for them to be able to see around them. They couldn’t see any sources for the light.

For now, the room.

Small investigation brought Efrem up to date about their surroundings. There was a bookshelf full of books. They opened it, browsing through a few books. All of them seemed to be written in a language they couldn’t read - in fact, the scripts engraved on their pages weren’t anything Efrem could recognize. There was a wooden desk and Efrem found ink, a few quills and what seemed like several pages of empty parchments from inside it. There was a piano. Efrem had never learnt to play one and they had no idea whether it was in tune or not. They were, however, able to tell that it sounded terrible. There was a wardrobe, packed full of... what seemed to be different types of robes. They weren’t from any culture Efrem could recognize.

Robes...? Efrem blinked.  

This... didn’t seem right. What was this place? Efrem saw a door – they could have sworn it hadn’t been there just a moment before. But there it was now and Efrem marched to it.  

The door knob didn’t turn. The door didn’t budge. Efrem felt cold.

“H...Hello?” They knocked on the door. “Hello! Is anyone out there!” Slowly, a sense of panic grew inside of them. What the fuck was going on? Where the fuck were they? They started banging on the door, voice growing louder as they got no response.

“Somebody! Help me! I’m trapped here! Some--!”

Efrem was cut off by the door opening in their face. It was closed as fast as it was opened, a figure stepping inside with ease.

Recognition sparked inside Efrem’s mind as the figure’s small, black pupils fell on to them.

“You have awoken”, he announced.

“Yeah, I noticed. W-Where am I?” The thing was standing way too close to them. Efrem took a step back. The creature – spirit, Zey – took a step closer.  

“This is your room, Efrem. I made it for you.”

That didn’t clear up anything. Actually, what was he even talking about?

“What do you mean? This isn’t my house. Where is.. Where I am? Where’s my phone?” Efrem needed to message Kieron. Zey looked at them, with a look that was almost pitiful.

“This is your new home. You won’t need your phone here, pet.”

What?

“The car accident was an unfortunate little thing. I wasn’t able to protect you.”

Efrem remembered – they did wake up in the hospital. They did get injured. They went home and they, they--

The ritual.

“So I brought you here, Efrem. So you can’t get hurt anymore.” Zey’s hand was on Efrem’s cheek and they jumped. He was tall. Why was Efrem unable to get away from them?

“So I can protect you better.”

Oh, okay. So the gist of it seemed to be...

“I took the liberty to fix up your injuries. It’s so fragile, that mortal body of yours”, Zey chuckled, like he was telling a joke. His hand was no longer on Efrem’s cheek.

“Please, make yourself comfortable in your new home. I can’t stay with you at this very moment, but I promise that I’ll play with you later, pet.”

Efrem stood still, staring at the spirit as he talked. They didn’t remember if he said anything else, absent-mindedly staring at his many sharp teeth as he talked.

He must have left at some point, because soon enough, Efrem was alone. The room was cold and empty. Never in their life had Efrem felt more confused and more alone. They more collapsed and less sat on the bed.

The gist of it seemed to be that Efrem was, thoroughly, fucked.

[bigfootwrites]

A Jewel Beneath The Moonlight [Reposted Anniversary]

One

Two

Three

Four

AO3

@today-in-fic @mypanicface @improlificinsarcasm @enigmaticxbee Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in this!

- - - 

Chapter Five

It’s been a while since he’s felt his head pound as it does. Mulder’s hangover doesn’t treat him well, the lack of sleep from last night also wasn’t helping.

Krycek had caught him. Mulder had no doubts that the younger man had probably been spying on him all evening on behalf of his father. The journey up to the rooms, Krycek had spent goading Mulder, telling him just how much trouble the Golden Boy was in. Mulder had ignored him, as best he could, walking ahead and blocking the boy’s voice from his ears.

Only once in bed and sobered up did Mulder let the worry in. The rat had probably scampered off to Father before coming back and waiting for Mulder to leave third class, just to appear out of nowhere with that stupid smug smile Mulder wouldn’t mind wiping off the bastard’s face one day.

Now, he tries to ignore the tension circling around the room, the quiet anger radiating from his father.

Mr Mulder had all be ordered Phoebe out of the room, proclaiming to want some alone time with his son. Mulder knew what was happening, what his father was doing. He was almost hesitant to let Phoebe go but the look in Father’s eyes, the way he stood with his back keeping the door open, telling Phoebe she needed to leave shut down any hopes that Mulder had of keeping her with them.

Mulder picks at his breakfast, his stomach revolting from the hangover or from worry, he isn’t sure. His nervous glances towards his father are too common, every move his father makes has Mulder flinching, something he immediately scolds himself for afterwards every time.

The tension is killing him. He feels like weak prey sitting here, caught in a trap with no way out.

“Your mother was worried about you last night,” Father starts, not looking up from the paper he reads.

Mulder cringes, clamping down on the guilt that swirls in his stomach. This method, Mulder thinks. Bring up Mother and how she feels, great.

“I told her she had nothing to worry about,” Bill Mulder continues. “He’ll be back soon, I said, of course that was before I got word you were off gallivanting down in steerage.”

“I wasn’t gallivanting,” Mulder cuts in. “I was invited down there.”

Mr Mulder throws his paper down on the table, his anger now seeping atop of the lid.

“Those people could have ripped you apart and stolen everything you’re worth, did you think of that before you accepted the invitation?”

Mulder tries desperately hard to not roll his eyes, his jaw clenching.

“But I wasn’t and that didn’t happen. I just danced and had fun.”

“Had fun,” Bill laughs. “Fun is for children, Fox, you were almost a father, there’s no time for fun anymore.”

A sting of sadness stabs his gut. In of the concern for Phoebe’s wellbeing through the whole miscarriage, nobody had once consoled him. Phoebe got a dog, he got nothing, not even an ounce of comfort from anyone.

It was his child, too.

A cap on his anger, his father calms down. “Now I know this year has been difficult but that doesn’t give you an excuse to fool around. I’ll admit, this Scully girl isn’t as bad as I thought she would be but she’s not good for you either, getting you in trouble like this…” Bill sighs, leaning back to look at his son. “Maybe you’re just looking for friendship, after Samantha—”

“It’s been twelve years,” Mulder says, unable to stay silent much longer. “It’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Maybe it does,” his father says, the man who has all the answers to everything and is never wrong. “Maybe she reminds you of her somehow but that doesn’t make this…acquaintance right.”

A beat passes and Mulder mulls this over. At eight Sam had a freedom about her but that was only because she was a child, naïve to the path that was set out for her. Scully has no path, she is freedom- hers and his. This is about freedom, not long-lost sisters.

“It’s best you don’t see that girl anymore.”

The words hit like bricks.

“And to make sure you don’t, for the rest of the journey we thought it best you stay in our sights,” Mulder’s eyes shut in defeat. “There’s a service at ten and a tour after,” Bill explains but Mulder’s barely listening at this point. “You will attend both with your mother, Phoebe, and myself.” With that, Bill pushes away from the table and leaves the room.

Now alone, his face falls into his hands. His sentence has begun.

 Religion had never been something he believed in, never something he needed. Most people used it as a clutch, something to give them faith when there was nowhere else to turn to. He respected it but he ever found it necessary.

His mother had dragged him and his sister to church when they were younger; Sam liked the hymns, Mulder liked going home.

He feels much like a child now, sandwiched between his mother and father much had he had to be when he was younger, only it’s Phoebe who sits to the side of Mother rather than Sam.

Time drags and his head hurt, somewhere behind him he could hear a voices, or voices, from behind the glass doors. Mulder twists in the bench, looking out beyond the doors, unable to see the figure making a fuss fully but also certain that he caught a glimpse of red hair.

��Get her out of here,” Father says to Krycek. He passes him a pound note and the boy scurries to the doors. Mulder watches.

“Face the front,” Father tells him and automatically Mulder turns. In a low, calming voice his father speaks.

“I’ll give you permission to talk to her later on,” Bill tells him. “You’re to tell her that you’re thankful for the company she’s provided but she’s not to bother you again. She stays in her area and you’ll stay in yours. Krycek will accompany you.”

Mulder doesn’t say anything, instead feeling more padlocks be added to his prison.

The service ends soon enough, for which Mulder is grateful for. He’s ready to head to his room and stay there for the rest of the journey.

He goes to do as much before Phoebe’s voice is stopping him.

“If we go now we’ll still make it in time for the tour.”

The bloody tour, Mulder thinks, he’d forgotten about that. He turns, eyeing his father with pleading eyes, hoping that he’ll let him go.

Of course, Father does the complete opposite.

“Yes,” Bill says, making direct eye contact with Mulder. “Fox was just telling me he couldn’t wait.”

The bastard.

Despite his father’s proclamation, Mulder makes no effort to be at all interested in the tour. He lingers at the back, catching words here and there about how long the ship took the built, who built it, why they built it, pointless stuff that Mulder just wasn’t interested in right now. Phoebe took to the front, constantly asking questions and if Mulder was in a better mood right now, he’d be surprised as her level of curiosity.

“How many lifeboats are there?” Phoebe asks.

“Twenty, I was told.”

“Is that enough?”

The small group stop, surrounded by sixteen lifeboats, Mulder counts, pressed up against the sides and out of the way as much as possible.

“Bit of an eyesore, aren’t they?” Mulder hears his father say.

The guide up front shrugs, mutters something about them being necessary to which Father hums in disagreement at.

“Let me show you the pool,” the guide says.

The pool is nothing special despite people ‘oohing’ and ‘awing’ at it. They get the history, they watch people swim and Mulder’s just about ready to drown himself.

Just as they’re about to leave, his name is called. Mulder spins, catching a glance of a person who disappears behind a pillar and he knows it’s Scully.

His heart sinks.

The group, and most importantly his father, busy following the tour, Mulder breaks away, heading towards the pillar with a lump in his throat.

“Finally,” Scully says grabbing onto his arm and pulling him towards her, hiding him from view. “I didn’t think I’d get a chance to see you.” His chest feels heavy, a sad smile flittering across his lips and instantly Scully’s frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Mulder stares at her, this woman that he feels like he’s known forever, who gave him access to a life away from pre-built paths and futures decided. He thinks of last night, of the fun that he had and the consequences having fun created. He thinks of his father, of Phoebe, of a life he doesn’t want but has to take it all the same.

He doesn’t want to lose Scully, but it’s only right. After this journey, after this ship docks, they’ll go their separate ways, end the ties now when they’re new rather than later when they’ve grown more attached.

“Scully, I…” He struggles with the words, with getting them out, with even forming them. His heart pounds, his head pounds still with the hangover, his stomach twists and his father’s probably now noticed he’s not with them. Can he not do this another time? Later? Tomorrow? Never…

“What is it?” she asks, she knows something amiss, knows there’s something wrong.

“I…can’t see you anymore,” he says slowly. “I don’t want to.” A lie, his brain screams. But it isn’t. Not exactly. He may have been glum before but he wasn’t conflicted, he was bound to do right by Phoebe, to work on their relationship and make something out of it. “It’s too complicated, what we have.”

He watches her blue eyes turn to grey steel, the concern turning to hurt and then to anger.

“We’re just friends, Mulder, what else did you think we were?”

The word stings. He remembers her dancing, with the little boy and later when the night had progressed. Remembers her answers at the dinner and their conversations before it, the smile she’d given him when she knew she was doing well. Mulder can’t even begin to pinpoint what moment it turned complicated.

“I know, I know,” he answers quickly, frowning, thinking. “It’s just…I love Phoebe and you…”

The words die on his tongue, a realisation crosses Scully’s face and Mulder’s stomach falls. He’d mistakenly just told her the truth when he should have finished the words.

He doesn’t even try to.

“Right,” Scully says, all metal and concrete. “I suppose I should take this as kindness, so I should, you not making me your bit on the side, an’ all.”

Mulder shakes his head furiously, “No, no, it’s not like that!”

She moves away from him and Mulder misses the closeness already.

“Why not?” She’s fire and ice at the same time, both burning and he wants it to stop. “That’s all we are to you anyway, isn’t it? Something new when the regular gets old.”

Words aren’t forming, he just continues to shake is head, it all spilling out of control before him.

She brushes past him, knocking into him on the way. Before she leaves, she turns back towards him, attempting to deliver one last blow.

“I hope you’re happy, Mr Mulder. I hope Phoebe makes you happy.”

“It’s my father!” he shouts before she leaves, above the natural loud volume of the swimming pool they’re still standing in. “He wants this marriage to work, he doesn’t want any distractions.”

It was the wrong thing to say as Scully swirls, ready to say something before it seemingly dies on her lips. With one last cold hard stare she leaves.

[we-always-hit-our-ass]

Flyboy (Floyd Talbert x Female! Reader)

this is my first fanfic, like EVER.  and i really wanted to write for Band of Brothers for a really long time now. sooo here’s my best shot at it. an i know this trope has been done a lot buuuut i can’t help myself. i hope i did well on my first ever fanfic

Description- It’s been a while since you had the time to enjoy yourself, and you finally get to spend it with the boys at the Currahee Party. As the night goes on, the boys decide you had a little too much fun after making a bet with Joe Toye. On the journey back to the barracks, you drunkenly slip out a few words to a certain guy you have your eyes on. 

Words- about 3.7k (oh wow)

Warnings- intense drinking, and vulgar language(i mean… it’s the Easy boys) rest is just fluff an two idiots fallin for each other ig <3

----------------------------

---------------------------

Adrenaline rushes through your veins, and you couldn’t help yourself from smiling the whole way down to the building where the party was gonna be held. You spent your time making sure you looked good. 

Hopefully good enough to catch that boy’s attention… Ever since you met him at Camp Toccoa, all of your thoughts were occupied by who other than Floyd Talbert. 

The way he looked in his PT uniform, his God-awful jokes, and that goofy smile of his. Any woman would have to be mad to turn Floyd Talbert down.

You two would joke like no tomorrow, and some of the Easy Company men would say that you two would make a good couple (to both of you guys’ embarrassment, but you two lowkey kind of like it).

 You don’t really hang out with him as much as yo, Liebgott, Bill, and Frank do, sadly. But you both made sure to make the moments you two spend together last.

He was like an angel, and he never fails to make your day just a tad bit brighter. No matter how many times Sobel punishes you, if you get to his cute face or hear his sweet voice, guess what? Everything else but him doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

It was understatement that thinking of him led you to getting into trouble by Sobel.  How many times did he make you run up that fucking hill just because you were distracted by some annoying, pissy, and undeniably cute bastard? 

You gave up on keeping track after the fifth time.

No matter how many times you try to push him out of your head, he somehow keeps crawling back.  You just wished that he would see you more than his best friend. And that was the one thing you hated about yourself… 

But this night wasn’t about him. Oh no, this is the night where you finally get off Camp Toccoa and escape Sobel’s never ending complaints.  You finally got the jump wings you and you’re boys deserved. 

After this, you’re gonna fight at Normandy and you're gonna show America the greatest soldier in existence. But it couldn’t hurt to catch his eye at this party tonight. Sooooo... 

You dressed to impress.

You made damn sure that everything about was absolutely perfect. Some light makeup to highlight your key features and to make your lips and (E/C) eyes pop. You decided to leave your (H/L) hair down and to slightly curl your (H/C) locks. 

The day you wouldn’t be soldiers’ eyes with the way you looked tonight was the day hell would freeze over. The way you looked tonight and you couldn’t help but be flattered when the boys whistled and complimented you on your look.

“Golly (Y/N), who are you tryna impress tonight? And oh Lord, please tell me it’s not Sobel.” Perconte jokes at you, wrapping an arm around your soldiers.

“Relax, relax, you sure as hell know it isn’t Sobel. I’m doing this for myself.” You throw your subtle lie at Perconte while nudging his arm off.

“You see boys, this is where I call bull. No matter how many times we go to bars, not one time, not ever have you ever put in this much effort.” 

“Shut up Perco, I never put effort because I know I already look good. Unlike a certain someone I know.” 

Your (E/C) eyes drift over to Perconte’s and you decide to lightly ruffle his hair before you jokingly punch his arm. Even though you were smiling, you were, in all honesty, a nervous wreck inside. The cogs and gears in your brain kept turning and, damn, was it giving you a headache. 

You were trying really hard to catch his eye tonight, and you weren’t going to let this opportunity slip by your fingers so easily. Fingers nervously patted down your uniform for any creases. Your arms reached to adjust the hell out of your hat. 

You twirled your strands of (H/C) hair on your fingers out of nervousness. Lastly, you decide to fix the tan skirt that hugged your legs ever so nicely. The pads of your fingers were turning ghostly white from how hard you were gripping the ends of your blazer. 

Huffing out in exasperation, you decide to run your hands to smooth down your uniform for what seemed like ages.Joe, like the older brother that he is to you, walks over like he somehow notices your nervousness.

Steady arms wrap against your shoulders as he pulls you to his side. His eyes glance over at your anxious face before starting to speak. 

“Hey c’mon, doll, what’cha nervous for? You look beautiful enough, I mean it. Now stop fussing over your clothes or else you won’t have hands before we even get to Normandy.” 

Joe’s words reassure you and you look up and stare ahead at the dirt road in front of you.

“God! When I’m done, my liver’s gonna shut down,” Guarnere states loudly, cigarette between his lips and arms reaching over to pull you and Perco close to him. 

“And both of you assholes better make sure the replacement that comes afterwards comes just as close as being as hot as me!”

A breathy laugh escapes your lips at Guarnere’s words, the beam in your eyes never leaving since Easy Company got the news that there would be a party just for them. With good food, no Sobel getting annoyed for no valid reason, and beer.

Lots, and lots, and lots of beer.

 And that was what caught all of Easy Company’s attention.

“Not on my watch Billy-boy. Wouldn’t want a freshman who could only aim his piss instead of his shot to replace Ol’ Gonorrhea! Don’t you think so (Y/N)?” 

Perconte’s eyes turn to you, lips pulling upward into a smirk.

“Well in that case, I wouldn’t mind if some newbie replaces Old Faithful over there.” 

You joke, making sure to raise your eyebrows and to look at Bill to look at his reaction.

“C’mon (Y/N), I bet you only want that because you don’t want competition!”

 He shows off his famous eat-shitting grin while he nudges your arm slightly.

 “I swear on my life that I could be dancing, spinning, and reciting three passages from the Bible, and I could still shoot a Kraut from 1000 feet better than you.”

“You talk a lot of shit for a sober man, Guarno.” 

Finally making it to the building. Bill opens the door and you, Perconte, and Liebgott walk inside.Your eyes were met by all of the Easy Company getting absolutely wasted. 

You even quickly lost count of how many men were downing glass after glass and how many men were already halfway to heaven. Shouts and cheers filled the air and your once anxious mood dissipated at an instant. 

You turn your head to look at your buddies before Bill cracked a smile.

“Try not to die before me, alright you pricks?”

Rolling his eyes, Joe flicks Bill’s forehead and you chuckled for a few good seconds. 

“No promises Bill.” 

Bill smacks your’s and Joe’s heads before walking over to sit at an empty seat with Bull. 

Frank leaves the doorway to saunter over to Johnny. Joe flashes a quick grin and gives you a pat on the back before quickly joining Bill and sitting at another empty seat at the table. 

A smile tugged at your lips as you spotted two of your best friends at the bar.  Walking briskly to the surprisingly not the occupied bar, you throw a smile at Toye and a wink at George, who gladly returns it.

“Now tell me (Y/N), how much money are ya willin’ to bet that I could drink more rounds of beers than you?” 

You scoff loudly as you smack Toye’s shoulder.

“Are you kidding? I could drink three times as much as you can Toye. So unless you’re planning to lose good money, then I suggest you drop this.”

“5 bucks, (L/N), take it or leave it.”

“I’m not stupid enough to pass up a bet that I know I’m winning. Count me in Toye, but you’re gonna regret this.”

The glare he gave you made you burst out laughing and after recovering you gave your attention to George. You lean over the counter to put your hand on George’s shoulder while beaming him a cheeky smile.

“Alright Georgie, you heard us. You’ll be the judge, okay? Now hurry up and pour us our drinks, I'm looking forward to a real nice hangover in the morning.” 

“Aye aye, private.”

Plopping back down to your seat, your eyes wandered across the room and, boom, there he was in all of his glory. Floyd Talbert, stealer and breaker of hearts. 

Your stare lingers for what seems like days and you can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. My God, you could never get enough of him, no matter what you may push yourself to think. 

He was already a bit tipsy, you observed. Slowed down movements, slurred speech, and rosy cheeks. All of a sudden those beautiful chestnut eyes of his met your (e/c) ones. 

You could’ve sworn that his face was getting redder after you two made eye contact.

 You were sure that yours was. 

The world kind of started to slow down, and it felt that you and Floyd were the only people in that room. His goofy smile made you return one of your own while the world continued to dance around you.

 You were hypnotized by Floyd, there was no other explanation.

 Little did you know that he was feeling the same.

Not wanting your little encounter to be awkward, you decided to give him a demure smile while raising your hand to wave at him. You giggled like a schoolgirl when you saw him waving back at you, glass of beer still in his hand. 

Almost forgetting about your bet with Toye, you suddenly yelped when Joe came to tap on your shoulder.

“Yoo-hoo, earth to (L/N)? Don’t tell me that you’re drunk already, though i’m not complaining. I’ll be all too happy to get 5 bucks from you.”

Joe smirked as he watched you recollect yourself from your flustered state, failing to come up with sentences and only managing to stammer words that didn’t make sense.  Joe laughs before rubbing your shoulders to help you calm down a little. The clinking of glasses on the wooden surface causes you to look up at George.

“Two beers for the lovely couple, now just call me up if ya need more. Or throw your glass at me, either one works.”

After throwing a light glare at George you face Joe, who smirks at you, thinking that you’ll be done after two glasses. 

Well he’s wrong, cause you know you can handle more than two glasses. 

“Good luck.”

“I don’t need it Joey. No need for luck when I know I’m going to win.”

George then counted down from…

“One…”

“Two…” 

“Three…”

“Go!”

And as soon as George shouted those words from his lips, you and Toye rushed to get your drinks and down them as fast as you can. George couldn’t even see your arms move for your glasses. 

You quickly brought the cool glass to your mouth and downed the liquid like your life depended on it.  It burned as it went down your throat, but you could care less. You just needed fun and those five bucks tonight.

When you finished you slammed the glass hard on the table, so hard that you feared you could’ve left a dent on the wooden counter. You slammed back your empty glass about the same time Joe did. 

You both desperately called out for George and George hurried over to take your cups and refill them.

“Didn’t think you’d make it this far, Joey.” You directed at him a teasing grin and were met by a playful roll of his eyes.

George came as fast as he could and slammed the two glasses in a similar manner as he did before. Like before, you and Joe rushed for your glasses and heaved them up faster than light. 

Soon a crowd started to form around the two of you. The bar suddenly became louder than before and your adrenaline burst through the roof. However, now that Floyd was in the crowd, you couldn’t help but burn up again. (E/C) eyes flickered over the crowd, searching for him. 

When your eyes finally landed on him, you couldn’t be more surprised when he was already staring at you.  The slamming of the glasses caught your attention and you proceeded to gulp the amber liquid.

Round after round of beers, you started to feel lightheaded. The lights seemed to blind you and the pounding your head was only made worse by the cheers and shouts of the crowd around you.  You would be lying if you said you weren’t drunk. Images were blurry and sounds weren’t as clear as they were supposed to be.You could barely make out any sentences or words that anyone was saying. 

Mumbled words and incoherent sentences passed by your lips, and you could barely look straight ahead without seeing double. You swear you were on your 30th glass of beer…  You looked over at Joe and he didn’t seem to be better than you were.

“Alright kiddos, last round. You two don’t look so good.” George muttered, or at least that’s what you think he did.

The redundant sound of the glass slamming on to the wood barely registered in your mind before your whole head became too heavy for your neck to support. The last thing you felt was your forehead making hard contact with the wooden surface of the bar counter. 

The last thing you heard was the crowd yelling and your friends shouting for someone to help you.

The last thing you saw were those beautiful chestnut eyes and softly tousled dark brown hair.

---------------------

You groaned as you felt your body being shaken and as your eyes slowly opened, you could start to make out gentle words being said in your direction.  Slowly but surely, you start to gain back your consciousness. 

The quiet was the first thing that hit you. The loud yelling and shouting and the clinking of glasses of beer seem to have disappeared. Suddenly you come to your senses that you’re not in the bar anymore. 

You swiftly turned your head around to see exactly where you were, but that only seemed to give you a headache. Groaning out, you raised your to feel something for support. 

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), I got you now.”

A sudden burst of energy went through you when you heard the voice. 

You, slowly now, turned your head to see who was talking to you. Your vision was still blurry, and the pounding in your head still hasn’t stopped.

“Joey- That you- no, no, no… Are you Percy? Perseus…? Oh! Perco… No. It doesn’t sound like you. Ahhh. You’re Guadamalarkey, I don’t know. That doesn’t seem right…” 

You called out a few names, but none of the names seemed to fit with the voice you just heard. You continued to slur and ramble incoherently, but you were stopped when the voice started again.

“You’re that drunk? Thought you could recognize me by now.”

Huh? Who’s he-

Oh.

OH.

“Flyboy? Is that you...?”

 “Jesus (Y/N), Flyboy? C’mon, we should get you to bed.”

“Yeeah.. Flyboy… Flyboy Tablets. Right?”

 You muttered quietly, still unknowingly clinging on to his crisp blazer. Floyd laughed, and there it is again. The blushing and the stammering.  Floyd didn’t really seem to notice though, as he was enraptured by your parted lips, glazed eyes, and the soft yet husky ramblings of your drunk self.

“Close enough, (Y/N). We really need to go get you to bed, okay?”

Soft, gentle circles were rubbed on your back, and it worked slightly enough to calm you down and to stop the dizziness and lightheadedness. Floyd picked you up gingerly from the dirt road you were sitting on for the past few couple of minutes.

He helped you get up, and you clumsily wiped off any dirt that was clinging on to your uniform.  Floyd had carefully put your arm over his shoulder and gingerly wrapped his other arm around your waist.

 A slight pink tinge appeared on his cheeks as he looked over at you. 

What he would do to kiss those lips of yours. He mentally scolded himself for thinking about you in that way while you were under the very, very heavy influence of alcohol at the moment. 

Floyd was taking his time when helping you walk. He kicked tiny rocks and pebbles out of the way to make sure you wouldn’t trip, and every time you would stumble he would put his arm in front of you, while his hand was tightly gripping on your blazer. 

After a few minutes of walking, you turned to him with your glazed (E/C) eyes and ever so slightly leaned in closer to him. You two stopped near the barracks, just outside of it really.

The sky was dark and stars were shining, it once again felt like they were the only people in the entire world.

“You know, Flyboy… I- I liked you ever since I saw you… Like.. l-like like, I suppose?”

Did he- Did he hear right?  Floyd knew he wasn’t as drunk as you, but he had to have been drunk enough to have had heard whatever you were saying.  There is no possible way that he had just heard you say those words correctly. 

His eyes widened and no amount of drinking could have made his cheeks burn red brighter than right now.  Floyd’s breathing slowly picked as he looked over at your disheveled, yet oddly cute and beautiful appearance. 

You were so, so, so close… 

Just one more inch and his lips would be touching yours.. But he controlled himself, and urged himself to listen to your slurred speech. 

“An- and- every time, every single goddamn time, I h-hung out with you... The feelings just got wor-worse… I really didn’t want to like yoooou.”

Oh yeah, he was definitely drunk.

“But I couldn’t stop… You know? I really like yo-you, Flyboy… I think I love you too.. Really love you… You just make me so happy and you could make me sm-sm…. Smile.”

You continued while smiling like an idiot, and Floyd was burning up by the second.

“No matter how many times that prick Sable curses at me, just o-one good look at you. My troubles are awaaaay..”

“You’re really drunk, (Y/N), you’re probab-”

“But I do! I really do, Flyboy…” 

You suddenly whined out, interrupting him. You knew what he was going to say, and you had to prove to him that you really did love him from the start. 

You were burning up so fast already. Whether from the alcohol or from your close proximity to Floyd, you really didn’t know. Floyd really didn’t know how to respond, but he thought that since you were drunk, whatever he’s going to say to you… You’ll forget it in the morning.

“(Y/N), I-I know you’re just drunk. And that you’ll forget this shitfest in the morning. But I actually lik-love you too. You’re so smart,” 

He says while caressing your (S/C) skin, leaving goosebumps where he touched.

“So beautiful and funny,” His fingers brushed over your parted lips and your breath hitched for the 100th time in this minute.

“And so fucking brave and kind.” Floyd quietly murmured, only intending for only him and you to hear.

 He looks up to your dazzling (E/C) eyes with his equally stunning chestnut ones. You stare at each other, and you could see nothing but warmth and pure, genuine love inside of his irises. 

He takes his time to examine your face again. You rest in comfortable silence, the only sounds you could hear were both Floyd’s and your heavy breathing.

“I don’t care if you’re gonna forget my words tomorrow… I just need to get it off my fucking chest… I love you. I love you so much (Y/N), and I literally don’t know what I’m going to do without you.. When I saw you looking like that, my heart burst…”

Now you knew you were really drunk, and you stood there in shock, stupefied reaction pasted over your face.

“Every time you’re talking with any of those guys. I just… I get so jealous, but I'm too much of a coward to let you know how I feel.”

How many times have you blushed or had your breath taken away because of this guy?  But he still continues, glancing up and down between your hands woven between his and your alluring (E/C) eyes. 

“You’re perfect to me, and fuck what anybody else says, ok? And I know you’ll just forget this in the morning bu-”

Without any thought crossing through your mind, you yanked on his tie and pulled him towards your face. 

Finally, finally! 

After months and months that turned into years of pining… You were finally kissing Floyd fucking Talbert. 

His wide eyes slowly closed as both of you melted in each other’s touch. His arm snaked around your waist so your chest was flush against his. He reached up, fingers following your jawline and slowly making its way to run its way through your disheveled (H/C) hair. 

The kiss was so tender, and you could’ve died right there on the spot. The lips you imagined kissing you all over were right there. You couldn’t help but want more.

You wrapped your arm around neck, and tilted your head slightly to deepen the kiss. (S/C) colored hands running through his short, soft hair, slightly pulling on the roots.

Truly, nothing else mattered, and you two were finally one.

As you two broke the kiss, your eyes slowly wandered up to meet his. You were entranced to see that he loved that kiss just as much as you did.

You two gasped for air and your chests were heaving up and down. 

Love was all you really felt right now. 

Drunk or not, you both really didn’t care. 

“I know I’m not going to forget this in the morning… Now will you shut up and kiss me again, Flyboy?”

And he did.

 Over, and over, and over again.

-----------------------------------

“SEE I TOLD YOU SHE WAS TRYNA IMPRESS SOMEONE!”

“Shut up, Percy!”

------------------------------------

whoooo what a doozy, gonna write speirs next ;)))))

 btw sorry for any grammar/spelling mistakes or making any characters too OOC

5 bucks back then is like about 74-76 dollars today

[harrypupperandhisownerdraco]

💧∗ˈ‧₊°∗ˈ‧₊°∗ˈ‧₊°∗ˈ‧₊°basically i just had a shitty christmas and after that just started screaming n fighting w my mom and i just want to cry so much, this life is shit i just want sum comforting otp, tag urself im draco 

(also this is a muggle!au)

 Story

Silver, blue, on then off… The hanging lights were flickering all over, illuminating the dirty streets with artificial illumination, blinding the moonlight and hibernal constellations. It wasn't snowing anymore, and all of its reminiscent beauty washed away with dirt and stomped away by happy bystander. The air could have been colder, but what made Draco shiver was the contrast between the eerie feeling lingering in the street and the stinging feeling over his cheek. Twisting butterbeer candy in his mouth, its sweet aroma melted along with the bitter taste of blood. It stung a little, but the endearing feeling of alcohol started to take over. Wandering aimlessly, he was focusing his thoughts hard on the christmas song's lyrics resonating all over the town. Otherwise, the dark thoughts he was trying to shut in would start to yell again.

He inhaled -breath shaky- once again, trying to regain consciousness of his surrounding. He couldn't just cry in the street like that, he was pathetic yes but ain't nobody gonna see it. He sighed as a sad grin slightly made its way on his face, finding a place to cry safely was a middle school thing to do but here he was at 20. He let his gaze wander on all the dolled up shop front, displaying all kinds of present ideas. He hadn't even had time to open half of his presents before running away. They might all have been shitty anyway. Except his mother's… Not to be cheesy, but she was the one who really knew him in that big house, no matter how many people inhabited it.

 Since when the family house became so full yet so cold and empty ? Maybe at the blurred line where childhood disappeared …

 Draco rubbed his humid noise, he was definitely not going to cry in public, for god sake. Leaving the nice display for romantic couples, he walked off. There was only one place where a forsaken college kid could cry his pitiful life and that was college itself. And if luck was on his side, he had the shittiest family life and everybody else went back home.

 Luck showed to not be on his side, Draco discovered with bitter annoyance as he was trying to sneak some snacks from the cafeteria. And it seemed Potter (the worst one Draco could fall into) had the same thoughts. His nemesis since middle school, the one person he personally made sure to say « happy christmas loser» before leaving because he knew christmas was Potter’s least favorite holiday.

Homeboy must have had the whole day to make a sweet stock but no, midnight snacking was better, of course. How original Potter.

"Come on Potter, don’t tell me you don’t hide food in that mess of a room you have", Draco put his arms around the amount of baked good and drinks he had stocked. " 'Cause I wont let you have any of these, you had the whole day, too bad."

"What are you doing here ? I thought you went back." Potter raised an eyebrow.

"Well you know, ehe, maybe I'm Santa and haven't given you your gift yet ?", he gave him droopy smile, trying to suppress wiggles alcohol induced. "Maybe, you’re Santa. 

"A- Are you drunk ?"

"That would be insulting my alcohol tolerance considering I only had candy, but I guess a man can get drunk over his spleen. Oh, and like, a few bottle, aha.."

"You're definitely drunk.", Potter sighed. "Get some water and go to sleep Malfoy."

"But I'm hungryy."

"You're only going to regret it afterwards, now come on, give it-" Potter got awfully closer, and Draco felt an itching feeling under his skin.

"Let a man drink and get shitfaced Potter, jeez, I don't remember stopping you having fun at your last scoot boys party." Draco groaned.

"You're not having fun, " Potter sighed and he came so close Draco could feel his breath over.

"Why you caring about that."  Draco tried to defy Potter's deep glare, but booze only confused him into the lulling gaze of green eyes.

As Potter groaned for answer, he grabbed his plate. Draco didn't put up any resistance as he didn't trust his body so close to Potter's. He might accidentally hit his face, and he didn't feel confident over a 1v1 against Potter right now.

"You don't smell like alcohol, you smell… good.", Draco muttered, as his eyes were half shutting over Potter’s collarbones. "What have you been up to Potty, you really don't know how to party, you only grunt and sigh."

 Draco didn't know whether it was willingly or without realizing, but he leaned against Potter's strong frame more than necessary. The sweet feeling of being supported, not having to fight… If only Potter could close his arms around him.

 "Malfoy I swear you should go now.", Potter's arms tried to shift him, but Draco felt his own arms envelope Potter's nice smelling neck on their own accord.

"Oh come on, I had a shitty christmas and a shitty evening, let me have that.", he whined slightly, tugging closer.

He could feel Potter’s breath stopped for an instant, and Draco didn’t know what to make of it. Maybe Potter would kick him for good now, pathetic or no they never indulged in anything soft or warm ; they challenged each other and threw word with deep rooted meaning, but never anything so clear and explicit.

But when Draco went to unlace himself from this awkward situation, he felt Potter’s strong arms not letting him.

"I don’t even know why i’m doing this, you’re heavy. " Potter complained as he was carrying Draco on his back.

"I’m not, not with those fit arms of yours ", Draco rumbled against Potter’s nice smelling jumper.

"... I should record you," Harry muttered, the back of his neck feeling hotter.

" I’d deny everything, the things you can do with technology these day.."

Draco could feel Potter’s muscles moving slightly over a soft chuckle. He pushed his face further into the nice perfume.

"... Hey take me to your room."

"W-what ?!", they nearly fell as Potter lost his balance.

"Calm your tits Potter, jee-"

"Why’d you want to go into my room anyway ??"

Because it might smell as nice as you..., Because it’s your room..., Because, there, it’d just be full of you and nothing would remind me of anything at home..., Because I don’t want to think about home right now...

"Because I know you have a hidden stack of snacks in there..."

"Malfoy."

Draco couldn’t feel Potter’s gaze on him but his tone conveyed enough to make Draco’s throat clench.

"I won’t steal anything, it’s just... there’s nothing that’ll remind me of home there... Just... I... "

Draco never finished his phrase and soft silence fell upon them for the rest of the way. He tried to no think too deep about tonight’s evolution, but even cloudy thoughts weren’t enough.

"We’re here", and as soon as he opened the door, Potter let Draco fall hardly on the floor. Not bothering to listen to his insulting fuss, he went to throw a cushion his way. "There’s a futon over there, the floor is yours."

"You’re the worst host ever, even dogs are treated better." Draco pouted.

"And you’re a handful guest and drunk", Potter said as he let a blanket fall over Draco’s head.

The ground was cold, he could feel it over the futon and the fall had made his heart sad. Draco remembered the comfy over-stuffed bed he left at home and how he should’ve been sleeping there comfily instead of making a fool of himself in front of the only boy that mattered.

"Well if I could have avoided drinking to drown my sorrow trust me i would.", he sniffed, already sobering up. "I’m so going to throw up all over your carpet."

All sound of moving and shifting stopped for a while. Then Potter peeked his face under the blanket, facing Draco’s.

"... Are you crying ?"

"... Next I’m gonna pee and then you’ll have all my body fluids over your carpet." Draco said with a small voice and he wanted to punch himself. Embarrassed him really had the worst retorts.

"You’re disgusting." Potter said, but he brought his nice smelling sleeve over Draco’s nose and whipped the dampness. Draco sniffed again.

"I’m not crying."

"You’ll deny it for the record I know."

For some reason, Potter lingered his touch over Draco’s face, wandering his hands over his cheeks, lightly wiping tears traces. Draco couldn’t see Potter’s face clearly due to the lack of lamps turned on. The room only escaping darkness for dim moonlight and Draco hoped Potter couldn’t see his face clearly either.

"Why did you come back ?"

"Because I’m the family disappointment and I have no weird cousin to dim that off."

Trying to use depreciative humor didn’t seem to get to Potter, maybe because he couldn’t see Draco’s face laughing it off. He had gotten quite good over the years.

"How could you be the family disappointment. You got the best grade and remarks, you’re basically every rich parents dream kid."

"Yeah that’s what I thought too, right ?... I thought that I would go back home and be congratulated or something, I mean I did get some of the best rank right ? But what are best rank when your friends are not ‘good company’ huh ? And when your clothes doesn’t reflect your seriousness enough, I mean who would hire me in these right ? Not like I came home to have dinner not an interview. Oh and sit straight will you, I taught you better, don’t embarrass me. We have guests Draco, is that really how you want to represent the Malfoy name ? And-"

"Breath a bit."

Potter’s voice was calm and strangely soothing. Draco hadn’t felt his blood pumping so hard until Potter made his heart stretch.

"The thing is... I do everything right but it’s never right enough. My father keeps talking about me like I’m just a display for the family name. I cant even think of doing other things that my whole life is already being pushed down my throat ! I don’t even know if I really want to do what I do ? Maybe I just convinced myself that’s what I want to do ? What if I understand I’m ruining my life when they’re already old and senile and I can’t make them pay for it huh ? Is it my fault they only fucked once and now they only have one shot for their brand of whatever ? Is it so hard to let me live as just ... someone ? Am I not enough just being my own ? "

Potter´s hand was still on his cheek and as everything fell into silence again, Draco felt overly conscious of their proximity. Heart clenching, he tried to not dwell on the words he just said, looking for some other depreciative humor ; he hadn’t plan to open to Potter. They never did this.

"Did you tell them that ?"

"I-", Draco let his lips hang open, slightly taken aback by Potter’s empathy and what felt like concern in his tone. "I did but... I feel like they never listen to what I say, I’ve been saying the same things for years. They say they’re scared for my future and just wants what’s best, but the truth is that they just don’t trust me and now I don’t trust myself either when I shouldn’t. " he bit his mouth over the bitter feeling.

"... I think you’re doing good."

"What do you know..." Draco sniffed, he could feel uneasiness coming from Potter and honestly he felt already bad enough from spilling his gut here he didn’t want some colored sappy moral or whatever. "If you’re going to tell me some sappy shit-"

"No I mean," Potter put his hands over Draco’s wrist so that he wouldn’t go away. And even in the darkness, Draco could feel his gaze’s intensity on him. "You look like, you’re... you just seem like you’ve got everything figured it out, like everything’s gonna work out for you in the end and... even if you feel like you want to change when you’re old, you’re the kind of person that’ll find something else and be great at it."

Draco could feel Potter’s pulse stirring over his touch and he didn’t know what to make of it.

"...You suck at sappy-inspirational speech, let me tell you."

"I mean... fuck if your parent don’t see it, you’re always doing your best and trying hard and giving it your all and... Whatever you decide to do with it you’re gonna be great at it... Even if you don’t really know what you want to do now, it’s ok, I mean... nobody does... know what they’re doing really. You don’t really need to know right away, you can... just keep doing for now until you know better..."

Although Potter seemed very thoughtful about what he said, Draco couldn’t help the awkward chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Hey, I’m serious you know !", even over his voice, Draco could hear Potter blush over embarrassment.

"I know this is why it’s weird !" Draco tried to untie his wrist from Potter’s grasp.

"Would you have wanted me to mock you or something !"

"N-no but now I’m confused ! If you’d mocked me I would have punched you and it would have been fine but now I don’t know what to do !"

"Then don’t reject me for once !"

Over their bickering, the blanket felt from over them but Potter didn’t let go of Draco’s wrist.

"You think I’m great ?"

"I’ll deny it for the record." he muttered and Draco could see him averting his beautiful eyes.

"Say it again."

When Potter’s eyes moved on Draco’s again, they held a burning purpose, and he couldn’t avoid his gaze if he wanted to. Potter’s beautiful eyes had him holding his breath but not wavering, even when he felt Potter’s breath over his lips.

He didn’t wonder who got over the last cm as their lips touched each other very softly, barely even, feeling unreal.

"Can I ?" Potter’s murmur ghosted over Draco’s lips.

On impulse, Draco wrapped his arms over Potter and squeezed very tightly. He had been so close all evening and all his life, and he couldn’t contain his feelings any more second. All the places in contact with Potter felt like they were burning the sensation into his skin, so that he would never forget what he’d been longing for so long. And as the kiss deepened, hands caressing softly through hair and clothes, Draco finally finally felt belonging.

As a ray of pale sun made its way on his face, Draco awoke feeling bundled in an infinite source of warmth and safety. He could barely move but he didn’t want to. Ever.

He might have fallen asleep again a few times before he felt some shifting around him.

The moment he turned around, he came nose bopping with Potter’s ; who opened beautiful green eyes and gave soft and embarrassed smile that Draco returned. He felt on cloud nine and the soft embrace he was in, not disappearing as they woke up, was the best part.

"Happy Christmas," Potter whispers against his lips.

“It’s happy now...”, Draco kisses him softly and they might just spend the rest of the day that way.

[scullysexual]

titanic au | multichapter-au | au | multiple parts | historical au | msr | mature | ao3 | 5/13 | @today-in-fic​ , @xfilesfanaticfanfic​ |

For Mulder, a wealthy English-bred socialite who’s had everything given to him since birth, the Titanic is shipping him off to a prison, a life he no longer wishes for or wants. For Scully, an Irish stranger from the lower class, it offers a new life, a future she can truly envision in America. What if the universe put them on the same path to achieve those dreams at the cost of life?

Chapter One.

Chapter Two.

Chapter Three.

Chapter Four.

- - -

A JEWEL BENEATH THE MOONLIGHT: CHAPTER FIVE.

It’s been a while since he’s felt his head pound as it does. Mulder’s hangover doesn’t treat him well, the lack of sleep from last night also wasn’t helping.

Krycek had caught him. Mulder had no doubts that the younger man had probably been spying on him all evening on behalf of his father. The journey up to the rooms, Krycek had spent goading Mulder, telling him just how much trouble the Golden Boy was in. Mulder had ignored him, as best he could, walking ahead and blocking the boy’s voice from his ears.

Only once in bed and sobered up did Mulder let the worry in. The rat had probably scampered off to Father before coming back and waiting for Mulder to leave third class, just to appear out of nowhere with that stupid smug smile Mulder wouldn’t mind wiping off the bastard’s face one day.

Now, he tries to ignore the tension circling around the room, the quiet anger radiating from his father.

Mr Mulder had all be ordered Phoebe out of the room, proclaiming to want some alone time with his son. Mulder knew what was happening, what his father was doing. He was almost hesitant to let Phoebe go but the look in Father’s eyes, the way he stood with his back keeping the door open, telling Phoebe she needed to leave shut down any hopes that Mulder had of keeping her with them.

Mulder picks at his breakfast, his stomach revolting from the hangover or from worry, he isn’t sure. His nervous glances towards his father are too common, every move his father makes has Mulder flinching, something he immediately scolds himself for afterwards every time.

The tension is killing him. He feels like weak prey sitting here, caught in a trap with no way out.

“You’re mother was worried about you last night,” Father starts, not looking up from the paper he reads.

Mulder cringes, clamping down on the guilt that swirls in his stomach. This method, Mulder thinks. Bring up Mother and how she feels, great.

“I told her she had nothing to worry about,” Bill Mulder continues. “He’ll be back soon, I said, of course that was before I got word you were off gallivanting down in steerage.”

“I wasn’t gallivanting,” Mulder cuts in. “I was invited down there.”

Mr Mulder throws his paper down on the table, his anger now seeping through the lid.

“Those people could have ripped you apart and stolen everything you’re worth, did you think of that before you accepted the invitation?”

Mulder tries desperately hard to not roll his eyes, his jaw clenching.

“But I wasn’t and that didn’t happen. I just danced and had fun.”

“Had fun,” Bill laughs. “Fun is for children, Fox, you were almost a father, there’s no time for fun anymore.”

A sting of sadness stabs his gut. In of the concern for Phoebe’s wellbeing through the whole miscarriage, nobody had once consoled him. Phoebe got a dog, he got nothing, not even an ounce of comfort from anyone.

It was his child, too.

A cap on his anger, his father calms down. “Now I know this year has been difficult but that doesn’t give you an excuse to fool around. I’ll admit, this Scully girl isn’t as bad as I thought she would be but she’s not good for you either, getting you in trouble like this…” Bill sighs, leaning back to look at his son. “Maybe you’re just looking for friendship, after Samantha—”

“It’s been twelve years,” Mulder says, unable to stay silent much longer. “It’s got nothing to do with her.”

“Maybe it does,” his father says, the man who has all the answers to everything and is never wrong. “Maybe she reminds you of her somehow but that doesn’t make this…acquaintance right.”

A beat passes and Mulder mulls this over. At eight Sam had a freedom about her but that was only because she was a child, naïve to the path that was set out for her. Scully has no path, she is freedom- hers and his. This is about freedom, not long-lost sisters.

“It’s best you don’t see that girl anymore.”

The words hit like bricks.

“And to make sure you don’t, for the rest of the journey we thought it best you stay in our sights,” Mulder’s eyes shut in defeat. “There’s a service at ten and a tour after,” Bill explains but Mulder’s barely listening at this point. “You will attend both with your mother, Phoebe, and myself.” With that, Bill pushes away from the table and leaves the room.

Now alone, his face falls into his hands. His sentence has begun.

 Religion had never been something he believed in, never something he needed. Most people used it as a clutch, something to give them faith when there was nowhere else to turn to. He respected it but he ever found it necessary.

His mother had dragged him and his sister to church when they were younger; Sam liked the hymns, Mulder liked going home.

He feels much like a child now, sandwiched between his mother and father much had he had to be when he was younger, only it’s Phoebe who sits to the side of Mother rather than Sam.

Time dragged and his head hurt, somewhere behind him he could hear a voices, or voices, from behind the glass doors. Mulder twists in the bench, looking out beyond the doors, unable to see the figure making a fuss fully but also certain that he caught a glimpse of red hair.

“Get her out of here,” Father says to Krychek. He passes him a note and the boy scurries to the doors. Mulder watches.

“Face the front,” Father tells him and automatically Mulder turns. In a low, calming voice his father speaks.

“I’ll give you permission to talk to her later on,” Bill tells him. “You’re to tell her that you’re thankful for the company she’s provided but she’s not to bother you again. She stays in her area and you’ll stay in yours. Krychek will accompany you.”

Mulder doesn’t say anything, instead feeling more padlocks be added to his prison.

The service ends soon enough, for which Mulder is grateful for. He’s ready to use head to his room and stay there for the duration of the journey.

He goes to do as much before Phoebe’s voice is stopping him.

“If we go now we’ll still make it in time for the tour.”

The bloody tour, Mulder thinks, he’d forgotten about that. He turns, eyeing his father with pleading eyes, hoping that he’ll let him go.

Of course, Father does the complete opposite.

“Yes,” Bill says, making direct eye contact with Mulder. “Fox was just telling me he couldn’t wait.”

The bastard.

Despite his father’s proclamation, Mulder makes no effort to be at all interested in the tour. He lingers at the back, catching words here and there about how long the ship took the built, who built it, why they built it, pointless stuff that Mulder just wasn’t interested in right now. Phoebe took to the front, constantly asking questions and if Mulder was in a better mood right now, he’d be surprised as her level of curiosity.

“How many lifeboats are there?” Phoebe asks.

“Twenty, I was told.”

“Is that enough?”

The small group stop, surrounded by sixteen lifeboats, Mulder counts, pressed up against the sides and out of the way as much as possible.

“Bit of an eyesore, aren’t they?” Mulder hears his father say.

The guide up front shrugs, mutters something about them being necessary to which Father hums in disagreement at.

“Let me show you the pool,” the guide says.

The pool is nothing special despite people ‘oohing’ and ‘awing’ at it. They get the history, they watch people swim and Mulder’s just about ready to drown himself.

Just as they’re about to leave, his name is called. Mulder spins, catching a glance of a person who disappears behind a pillar and he knows it’s Scully.

His heart sinks.

The group, and most importantly his father, busy following the tour, Mulder breaks away, heading towards the pillar with a lump in his throat.

“Finally,” Scully says grabbing onto his arm and pulling him towards her, hiding him from view. “I didn’t think I’d get a chance to see you.” His chest feels heavy, a sad smile flittering across his lips and instantly Scully’s frowning. “What’s wrong?”

Mulder stares at her, this woman that he feels like he’s known forever, who gave him access to a life away from pre-built paths and futures decided. He thinks of last night, of the fun that he had and the consequences having fun created. He thinks of his father, of Phoebe, of a life he doesn’t want but has to take it all the same.

He doesn’t want to lose Scully, but it’s only right. After this journey, after this ship docks, they’ll go their separate ways, end the ties now when they’re new rather than later when they’ve grown more attached.

“Scully, I…” He struggles with the words, with getting them out, with even forming them. His heart pounds, his head pounds still with the hangover, his stomach twists and his father’s probably now noticed he’s not with them. Can he not do this another time? Later? Tomorrow? Never…

“What is it?” she asks, she knows something amiss, knows there’s something wrong.

“I…can’t see you anymore,” he says slowly. “I don’t want to.” A lie, his brain screams. But it isn’t. He may have been glum before but he wasn’t conflicted, he was bound to do right by Phoebe, to work on their relationship and make something out of it. “It’s too complicated, what we have.”

He watches her blue eyes turn to grey steel, the concern turning to hurt and then to anger.

“We’re just friends, Mulder, what else did you think we were?”

The word stings. He remembers her dancing, with the little boy and later when the night had progressed. Remembers her answers at the dinner and their conversations before it, the smile she’d given him when she knew she was doing well. Mulder can’t even begin to pinpoint what moment it turned complicated.

“I know, I know,” he answers quickly, frowning, thinking. “It’s just…I love Phoebe, and you…”

The words die on his tongue, a realisation crosses Scully’s face and Mulder’s stomach falls. He’d mistakenly just told her the truth when he should have finished the words.

He doesn’t even try to.

“Right,” Scully says, all metal and concrete. “I suppose I should take this as kindness, so I should, you not making me your bit on the side, an’ all.”

Mulder shakes his head furiously, “No, no, it’s not like that!”

She moves away from him and Mulder misses the closeness already.

“Why not?” She’s fire and cold at the same time, both burning and he wants it to stop. “That’s all we are to you anyway, isn’t it? Something new when the regular gets old.”

Words aren’t forming, he just continues to shake is head, it all spilling out of control before him.

She brushes past him, knocking into him on the way. Before she leaves, she turns back towards him, attempting to deliver one last blow.

“I hope you’re happy, Mr Mulder. I hope Phoebe makes you happy.”

“It’s my father!” he shouts before she leaves, above the natural loud volume of the swimming pool they’re still standing in. “He wants this marriage to work, he doesn’t want any distractions.”

It was the wrong thing to say as Scully swirls, ready to say something before it seemingly dies on her lips. With one last cold hard stare she leaves.

[aimlessfool]

Four years, One Night

Prompt: Kisses under an umbrella Thank you so much for the prompt, Spider! :D (tagging in case the ask got lost :’) @exalok​ ) And here you go! :D

Pretty much this is an AU where Corvo was given to Dunwall at the age of 20, and he and Dàud had a relationship that is low key still there, even though they haven’t seen each other for four years. And Daud has no bounty on his head yet. :’)

Seventy four in coin. Corvo had counted them all, from his coin purse in the innermost pockets of his coat, sewn in there to not be easily lost. It was all he had to spend this fugue, and all he had ended up being left with at the end of the year. A year that had little excitement in it, little sorrow else from what was left over soon two years ago. Only a month or so after he arrived. The death on an Empress or Emperor had always weighed heavily on the Empire, at least the closer to the capital you would get.

The man facing the pubs from the rooftops remembered well how news such as these reached Karnaca and his mothers stories of them, and how most of the grief took seed in the nobles, and those few middle class and lower class citizens that were loyal enough to grieve. He had rarely understood the great devotion to those above others, and how much a leader of the Empire was loved. But little did it matter, and little could he dwell on those thoughts as of years and counting, considering that he had to keep them to himself just about every day of the year, else from these few precious days. Perhaps in time he would understand. He figured so, considering he had the rest of his life left in the Tower. Forever watching over the Empress, until the day she would eventually fall. But it would not be because of him... He would make sure of this. He supposed that any child of the Empress would cast him to the hounds once he was too old. Hrm, that day that sorrow.

It was time to continue on his way to reach the pub and docks, to wander about and see how much things had changed for the last four years. Corvo had found himself wanting a break from watching over the princess, who by now had already settled into her little safe room where she told Corvo sternly, to "go out and do something" for the last hours of the fugue. So with her orders, Corvo followed what he wanted for the first time in a while, heading out and leaving his work behind for once, this going to be a secret kept from the Emperor. The thing was, for the last three fugues, Corvo had ended up only watching over the royal family, not doing much of what he wanted. This was something he had accepted very early in all this, so it was no problem, for honestly, nothing more was to be expected.

This had been fine, until he was stuck needing to do something with his time on his own, and not having work. Soon four years of this had Corvo's mind go blank, as he moved along the chimneys like a cat, crawling his way over the dirty and slippery roof titles.

At least it was fun enough to use the city's roofs to continue the training he haven't had much of, for it was perhaps best to not show off too much of his abilities to the Emperor and his sly spymaster, who often eyed Corvo with suspicious eyes when he trained, Corvo going about like a whirlwind on the training fields. If Corvo ended up showing off too much, he might end up being questioned of where he learned such things, as stealing coin purses and slipping away from sight without a trace. It would be bad enough as it were in general, but the other consequences that would follow with it would be even worse, if he were forced to reveal who he learned this from. A man that he...

...

Corvo kept moving. Slowly but surely, as he was careful and certain with his steps, Corvo reached the pub he wanted to see first. After an easy climb down and without much fuss, Corvo found himself back on the cobblestone of the city streets, right beside an old brick building, where his hand resting against it. He slid his hand along the building as he went, an old habit of his that apparently wasn't fit for the buildings of Dunwall, as he scratched his palm against the rough brick, not to draw any blood, but enough to itch. So scratching at his hand, Corvo went out from the alleyway, opening the cracking metal fence door with his foot as he went along, not bothering to use his hand, despite them both resting at his sides by now, to appear more casual than others. He was wearing an outfit of the few items he had from home of his casual clothing, the shirt draped over his chest bigger on him than it should be, with reason too. All this, so he would fit better in with the others in there, and not be as recognisable. Yet, Corvo doubted nobody but court members would even bat him an eye, for there had been no mention of his status or arrival in the newspapers. So few would know of him. Walking in with a hand lingering on the door handle, Corvo took a gander over the open floor ahead of him, seeing many being... To put it lightly, stretched out over them, enjoying their time. There were music, some song that Corvo did not know of, perhaps it being a local variant of songs that he should know, from listening to Jessamine play some on her harp. Yet, he had paid little attention due to other thoughts in his head about music, so... He could not name them, but did feel a sense of familiarity with the violin. It almost sounded like how... Daud played to him. Corvo pretended to walk in with alcohol on his mind, stepping along the drunks and tables as if he had done this several times, which wasn't that far from the truth. Thinking little of the state of the bar, Corvo still approached it, finding a seat empty beside a man that looked like a sailor, draped over the counter with his hand clenching around a glass. Hrmp, one can't choose your neighbours in a bar at fugue, Corvo knew this.

The bartender wasn't thinking of the new arrival, nor was Corvo, who by now leaned on his hand, propped up by his elbow, looking over the rest of the room, from what he could see of it. There were life, akin to those at night in Karnaca. Men howling with conversation and laughter, the thick ooze of beer and general alcohol in the air, and music, though more sombre than those songs he would listen to back home. It was like he had wandered back home, a gateway more suited to him than a ship.

Sighing, Corvo actually tapped the counter for a moment, to see if he gained the bar tenders attention. It ended with Corvo offering some coin, for prices were random at fugue, he knew this, and he was given a glass of beer, one that Corvo very, very slowly started to chip down with as he sat there, watching the life, his chest growing warm with alcohol and the warmth of a good bar, where there were merriment and good times. Not as dreadful as the rainy streets outside.

About halfway done with his beer, the man beside him apparently woke up, looking to Corvo from the counter, his face drunkenly flushed. It was a guard, one he knew from the barracks. Smiling as he sipped his beer, Corvo patted his back a few times, a friendly gesture to tell him to get up.

The man obliged, groaning as he got up, his balance pretty much off...

... And for a moment he was about to topple over Corvo, who quietly reached out a hand towards the man's collarbone, stopping him from falling. And the poor drunkard started huffing, though found that what he thought Corvo wanted wasn't right, as he was met with a amused smile, something that he truly did not expect. So he got himself back on his feet, and headed off to a table, to switch seats... And Corvo had a slight understanding as to why, and paid it little mind afterwards.

Half an hour later, with Corvo oddly enough immersed in this whole cosy and fun atmosphere, he was out of beer. And knowing how it was with prices, Corvo decided to stop there, and just slide the glass between his hands, in a bout of boredom. It had the bartender take the glass from him in mid movement, Corvo's eyes going straight to him... And he just chuckled. Smiling a little.

Bartender paid little mind to this, and just let Corvo be, supposing he have had enough, though... Today he wasn't actually allowed to stop him.

Corvo didn't mind, stretching over the counter and ending up people watching again, idly wishing that there were some Serkonian blabber about, to just feel even more like home for this very slight moment. He rested his head against his arm for a moment, head facing the room and tables out there, and the men and women there, some even starting to get frisky.. That came naturally with the hour, so it was nothing Corvo hadn't expected. He had a smile, still, and it hadn't waned often the last half hour. He was even slightly red, though he was far from tipsy, a half litre of beer far from enough to get him properly flushed. He just enjoyed this. The taste of the beer wasn't too bad either...

Though he wouldn't be idle for long, as the same man that nearly flattened him to the bar stool earlier now suddenly grabbed at Corvo's collar, this instantly causing Corvo to look to him alarmed, and trying to get the hand off it, before it could do some damage. But he failed as he stumbled off the stool, and was promptly dragged out of the bar's back exit, closer to the waterfront than he wanted to be with a drunk guard at the moment. There were little resistance from Corvo, though he truly wished he could wring himself away. Having a feeling he knew where this was going, and once he was let go, Corvo quickly turned to the drunkard, though still with a lighter expression, not going to let this ruin his night. It was just a minor thing.

"What do you want?" Corvo asked, a hand reaching to the back his collar to check for holes... None.

"A fight." The man blabbered out, his slurred speech revealing just how damned drunk he was. "Royal Protector an' all, you got a fight in you I want." Corvo snorted. This felt somehow familiar, like a lot of things tonight. Corvo considered the request...

And promptly punched the drunkard in the face, retaliation for what he did to his shirt, as he truly felt like that was something he should not have done.

The man did budge, the first too sudden and very hard hitting for him not to. And he then promptly attempted to punch him back, failing first, but with a very dirty trick of kicking Corvo's feet off balance, he managed to get him down to the cobblestone, some of them stinging as they hit Corvo's back individually and causing some pain. And then a fist came flying at Corvo's face, exactly where he should not be hit, and due to the shock of it all, Corvo got a fistful of pain right into his cheek and eye, grunting and ending up kicking the guard down, not going to take this laying down.

And with him down Corvo moved to his feet again, and ended up kicking the drunkard in the stomach, with the aim of letting him have a hangover before he would actually get it.

Hopping back right after the kick, Corvo's hopes where fulfilled, and the guard started to vomit out his very expensive alcohol right after the kick. He howled in anger and pain as he did, spitting curses at Corvo who stood over him, actually not wanting to punch him further. A punch for a punch, after all.

"Have fun with your coin then, Gallwood." Corvo muttered, ending up chuckling as he turned on his heel, and waved to the cursing idiot on the street floor.

Now, Corvo supposed he could continue his sightseeing, since the good idiot was too brick brained to understand Corvo didn't want him falling on him. So, he slipped out of sight and into an alleyway, idly wandering with a little hop in his step as he did, just happy and somehow feeling a bit more energised after getting punched in the face. He supposed within a few minutes he would have a bruise, but it would just have to be. It just might end up with others wanting a fight from him keeping away, which was good. ... And about that, for a moment, Corvo felt watched. So he stopped, suddenly and all, and looked behind him, into the darkness of the alleyway he had just turned into, and found... Nothing but rats, scuttling over the cobblestones and to his feet, passing by without much fuss.

... Tossing whatever thoughts he had out of his mind, Corvo continued.

Now turing, the docks stood before him, a little bit from the side of the whole thing, though. There were not much life, just a few sailors here and there, with the increasing intensity of the rain surely having chased off most of the people out in the streets. At first it was a drizzle, now it was getting worse. Which Corvo had found to just be good, he liked it when the rain was "warm" like this, and not icy cold as it usually where. Now at the side of the river, Corvo moved along the rock formations, and past so much rope and cargo crates. He saw shirts, coats, fishing rods, umbrellas... A lot of things, just strewn about as if in their owners where in a hurry. And from experience, Corvo knew this was the case, as it were how most dockworkers and sailors would end their day as soon as the fugue was rung in.

Now humming at a Serkonian song from the back of his mind, Corvo idly wandered along this place, and soon ended up on the other side of the docks after having picked up one of the umbrella's at the side of a barrel, wanting to just fool about with it, as he would back home, if he ever found one. He thought of many things as he wandered, the hop in his steps having started to waver to a normal walk.

This whole night had felt like he was back home, more a feeling than anything else, though. He had been content, forcing himself to think that he was, thus feeling it. For despite him having fun, despite it feeling like home, something was gnawing at him, something missing. Daud.

Even with his shirt, Corvo still couldn't help but to want the man himself there, wandering along with him. He thought, for a slight moment as he dressed himself back in the barracks, that the shirt would be enough to keep the... Longing for Daud at bay, but... Despite trying his best, it just wasn't enough. He was supposed to be there now. Like back at home. When he had work, it was easier to just use his shirt as a familiarity and distraction, but now...? It wasn't... Right. Things felt like back home, but really wasn't, due to missing Daud. ... Thinking of things to help take his mind off this, especially now that he was close to where he ultimately realised what had happened, four years ago, Corvo fished up the cigarette case of... "His."

Fished out a cigarette and his lighter, and lit it, the umbrella helping with this. Perhaps he had it in mind once he picked it up.

For years he hadn't thought of him. Until now. ... Void damnit.

Corvo stood there for an hour. He smoked three of the cigarettes, the third just being lit as he heard something at his left. Corvo paid it little mind, supposing it was a sailor looking for something he had dropped here, or whatever else.

But when a hand reached out to the cigarette he had in his hand, out of the blue, Corvo reacted with a silent shock, mouth very subtly agape as he turned to see who was that blunt as to simply take the cigarette from his mouth like that. And with the light of the smoke, came the view of a familiar face, a familiar nose... A familiar man, with Corvo's cigarette in between his lips. ... His chapped lips.

"I was wondering where my shirt went." The very familiar man muttered, his voice rougher than before.

... Corvo froze as he stood. Slightly leaned over a railing separating him and the river, with his head ever so slightly tilted towards the left as the gears in his head turned, to understand what was just happening. To get it into his brain that... This man right beside him, coming closer and inching under his umbrella... Was Daud.

... Corvo tried to say something, tried to move when Daud got so close to him their shoulders touched.

In order to break the silence, Daud leaned along with Corvo as he hummed for a moment, though half of his body was still exposed to the rain as he did so, the man not minding all that much, though.

"Took my cigarette case too, then." He said, voice trailing off as he ended up looking to Corvo, with a half smile on his lips. Corvo's mouth was still slightly agape, and first now it sank in that... This was Daud. Corvo's fist clenched, and he was about to move, about to turn sharply and punch the man before him in the face, for having been gone for four years, for not having sought him out, but... It wasn't certain that he got the letter. It wasn't certain he was aware of where Corvo had been for the last four years. He didn't know if he had gotten caught up in anything- he didn't have the right to punch him. Yet he wanted to, so badly.

"Daud?" Corvo finally managed to mutter, his voice revealing his feelings about this meeting all too well. There was a certain vulnerability in his voice too, a sadness in it. As if he wasn't able to accept what was there, right in front of him.

There was a nod from the man, and he tilted his head to meet Corvo's, the cigarette safe between his lips. "Corvo." He said, his eyes saying a lot about how he was feeling for the moment.

"... Where?" Corvo finally managed to ask, aware of Daud being within reach, if he just angled himself slightly to the side.

"I would ask the same, had it taken me longer to find you." Daud muttered, and knew that it wasn't a satisfactory answer, so he continued, his arms resting idly over the railing as he apparently relaxed. His answer was... Guarded too, which Corvo picked up on easily.

"I got caught up in something. What, you know." The man took a drag, and blew it out, towards the rain and away from Corvo. "I only got home a month ago." Corvo's heart sank, as now that Daud was closer to him, he saw an angrily red line down the side of his face, just as Daud turned to look to him again. It wasn't only the reason his heart sank, though.

"I ended up travelling. Finding things, stealing for them. A lot happened, Corvo. Thus why I didn't seek you out before now." Daud lifted his arm up, and patted his chest, just where Corvo knew he usually sewed in pockets in his coats. Like he did to his. Corvo understood what it meant, Daud always kept the things most important to him close to his chest.

... A long pause of silence followed. Daud didn't feel like he could ask Corvo what he had been doing, not because of privacy reasons, but honestly... He wasn't sure how Corvo felt about him anymore, and he wouldn't take any chances either. It would make things more difficult. "... I'm pissed." Corvo said, and had a slight smile on his face... A smile that Daud knew, but if it meant the same, he wasn't aware of.

"I told you to quit while you were ahead... Then, you end up gone for four years..." He said, looking over to Daud again, and gaining another look at his face. "And yes, I do believe you... Those bastards were the types. I just don't understand what happened.. How did they keep you?" Daud... Sighed, turning to look to Corvo more, as if seeking-.. Something. He wasn't sure what.

"Things meant little to me. My own life, less so." Daud muttered and trailed off, his eyes set on Corvo's, and his right hand, ever so slightly moved against Corvo's, all without the man realising it himself. Corvo did, though, and didn't even flinch, nor look to it... He was about to move to the others hand.

"... If I knew you had left and were safe, I'd... Quit sooner." Daud finally said, moving his hand away just as Corvo was about to touch it.

Corvo sighed, deeply, and lightly tapped Daud's hand with his finger, Daud noting it. "Yes, you should have." Corvo muttered, frowning slightly... To then just full on frown, the drag Daud took from the cigarette showing more of his face...

"... I was taken, three days before you were supposed to come home. It was a hasty delivery, they wanted me gone as soon as possible..." Corvo started, turning away from Daud, as he just... Couldn't look at that wound.

"So I took what I could, went to my mother, and said goodbye to Karnaca... To home..." Corvo sighed, a lopsided smile showing on his lips now, as he reached for the cigarette Daud had in his mouth, and took it from him, to take the last drag. "I'm sorry for the mess I left.." Daud huffed. "Don't be. It wasn't that messy."

"So they left it alone, then?" Corvo seemed.. Hopeful as he spoke.

"Yes. Most of Karnaca knew that was our place, so they left it well alone." Almost as tidy as it had been for the two years the two of them had been together.

"Good..." Corvo seemed almost relieved.

"So... What did you do?"

Daud watched the cigarette bud fly from Corvo's fingers down into the sea. "I sold everything but your things... The apartments is sold off, I needed the coin."

... Corvo's heart... Now truly sank into his chest, the man even feeling a sting from the feeling of it... Not because of his things, but.. The place he and Daud had called home... Was gone. Really so. He had already accepted that he wouldn't get home again, but... Maybe not as much as he had hoped. Biting as his lip, Corvo calmed himself down, taking a deep breath as he sighed again.

"... You knew I'd not be able to go home again." Daud nodded, picking up on the sadness in Corvo's voice. And thus, figured that... He could maybe... He reached out the same hand to Corvo's again, who didn't budge. He let Daud place his hand on his.

"So, my things are at the usual spot?" Daud nodded.

"I'd best get them delivered soon. Conrad, he's still working at the docks?"

Daud nodded. "He arranged the passage for me."

"Good." Corvo acknowledged, and finally looked to the hand on his, to Daud.

He wanted to say something that had been on his mind all night, something that most likely... Wouldn't be all that welcomed, so... He instead trailed back, trying to figure out something to say.

".. I've been appointed Royal Protector of the princess... Jessamine." He explained, finding that it had some good timing... Yet, these sort of news were never good timed, no matter what, especially to a man with such work as Daud had, and most likely... Wouldn't be able to escape, if Corvo's fears were great enough.

"So, I've been busy making sure her and her family is safe... For the last four years I've been sleeping in the barracks, but within a month of two, I'll be moved. To the Tower."

Daud's face was hard to read, but one thing was for certain. He was happy for the man before him. And Corvo, who knew him, now twisted his hand around, and entangled their fingers. A subtle way to tell him to stay. "Climbed your way to the top... Never expected anything else." Daud said, a sort of chuckle present in his voice as he spoke. And he found, that he didn't mind the entanglement.

Corvo nodded along, with a slight smile. They were worlds apart now. It was easier back home. Corvo sighed, deeply. He didn't want to ask this, but it was a given that it were. So there were no other choice.

"... What are you doing here Daud...?" He asked, as he was the one who most likely, followed him for a while. And first after the words left his mouth, he understood how they sounded...

Daud took a moment to reply. Corvo swallowed. "I came to look for you. Took me a few days, until you happened to punch a loud bastard behind a pub." He chuckled, smiling. "I knew it was you just from the shirt alone."

Corvo smiled, the smile lopsided and without much merriment. "So you're back for the shirt, then?" He asked, looking to Daud again, now noting that Daud hadn't pulled back his hand yet.

"You can keep it. It looks good on you." Daud muttered, and looking to Corvo, their eyes met, and he... Promptly looked away.

"... Sorry I took most of your clothes." Corvo muttered back eventually. "No, you're not." Daud chuckled, and found himself looking back to Corvo, starting to understand a little bit more about how things were now. Corvo was an open book to him, always were, and the more they talked, the more he understood what he meant with all.

... Soon Corvo moved, fishing his lighter up from his pockets using his left hand, and.. Lit it close to Daud's face, the man looking curiously to the flame, them to Corvo.

"... What happened to you...?" Corvo found himself asking, eyes wide at how... Bad the wound-... No- scar, looked. Daud's lips thinned, and once he spotted Corvo's face... He knew where it was from, yet.. Got a bit of a serious look in his eyes.

"Still a sucker for face punches, I see." Daud joked, but did have some concern behind it. "Don't avoid the question." Corvo replied sharply back.

Daud... Sighed. Then looked away, the lighter being put back into Corvo's pocket. That's when Daud noted a hand, moving up to him. To his face. ... Then some pressure at his cheeks, along his chin. Warmth. And the handle of the umbrella...

... Daud leaned in to it, closing his eyes, just for a moment as he exhaled.

"Sword fight getting out of it. A year ago..."

Corvo huffed.

"Fucking bastards..." He said, voice dripping in malice.

Daud... Nodded.

Corvo's hand lingered, not sure what to do with it, else than to pull the man in front of him closer to him. To untangle their fingers, and reach out to Daud, who. Was here now, and most certainly wouldn't reach out to him, the damned idiot. At least he managed to find him. And to talk, explain whatever he needed to explain.

He removed the hand eventually, and untangling the hand with Daud's, to hold the umbrella with that hand. "Tonight, I was forced to not work... Went to a pub, and spent an hour or two there... It was like being home, you know." Corvo started, just to talk. "Felt a lot like those times, when we ended up together at the bar... We would people watch, see them go by, get drunk... Even music, though it was worse here than home." Daud kept quiet.

"I miss home." Corvo muttered, the meaning behind these words more loaded with meaning than he realised himself. And looking at Daud, this statement was something he too felt. Maybe the same way that he had.

"... So, no new home?" Daud asked, knowing he had to.

Corvo shock his head.

And watched How Daud's free hands moved up to his face, first stroking a thumb against Corvo's now bruised cheekbones, while his other hand cupped his face. Corvo's lips parted, like taking in a breath.

Then Daud waited, for a moment. Asking for permission. Which Corvo granted, leaning ever so slightly down to the other, as Daud tip toed to reach him, as they had done many times. The first kiss was a light peck, lips meeting lips, testing the waters. Then another light peck followed, and more after that. Daud's lips were dry and chapped, while Corvo's warm and dry too, yet it didn't really matter for either of them. Now Corvo's left hand cupped Daud's face, and the other, draped over his shoulder, to then hold a hand on the back of his head, as if he didn't want him to leave. Which he did, just for a moment, their lips lingering so close they brushed against each other, and noses nudging against each other as they moved to... Inch a little bit closer, in a moment of needing to breathe. Their lips met again, this time leaving out the pecks, and instead pushing against each other with hunger behind it. They didn't care if anyone was watching, didn't mind if someone saw them. This was all about them.

Not knowing nor caring how much time had passed, eventually they separated, Corvo mostly breathing through his nose, but finding it to not be enough to manage to stay with Daud for any longer than this. Daud pulled back too, though oddly enough his hands had moved, down to Corvo's shoulders, and had rested there for a while, and wasn't moving even as they pulled from each other. Between parted lips, Corvo was catching his breath, Daud too, and it ended with both of them crashing together again, their kisses intensifying with every breath they shared between each other.

They ended up so caught in this that they leaned over the rope railing, Daud stopping them though before they toppled over the railing, by taking a hold of Corvo's waist and angling him away from this, Corvo gasping in between kisses as he was moved, though he had yet to realise that was why Daud touched him like that.

Eventually, they both parted, cheeks flush red and lips slightly swollen from playful bites, both happy to see each other in their own little way.

When Daud parted from him, he stopped being on his tip toes, and now, leaned his head against Corvo's collarbone due to Corvo kinda making him, who slowly stroked his hand through Daud's hair, as if trying to soothe him. It didn't really, but it didn't mean Daud didn't like it. He just wouldn't admit to that, even though his cheeks revealed his feelings very well... Good thing they were both hidden under darkness.

... Usually it wasn't this... Longing. Grumbling internally, Daud just... Relaxed. Corvo as well, the man actually slightly dizzy.

"... Got a bed tonight?" Corvo asked, a fair question for Daud. With his home sold, it was likely he hadn't spent his coin on a new one.

"No." Daud muttered, sort of understanding the more "hidden" question behind Corvo's words, but still being blunt about it.

"We're allowed visitors in our rooms." Corvo muttered, Daud feeling the vibrations from Corvo's voice on his forehead, as he had angled himself to lay his head like that, nose tucked up against the lower parts of Corvo's neck.

"Hrm. Tempting." Daud rumbled, smiling. Corvo swore he could feel that, how his shirt ever so slightly moved up where Daud's cheek where resting.

"Been a while since I've slept in a proper cot." Daud joked, and nudged with his head that he was standing up straight, which Corvo let him.

Once he stood facing Corvo again, Corvo smiled. "It's not big, but we'll make do."

"Agreed. But I'll have to collect my things first. I'd rather not have it found by any quick witted thief."

"That can be arranged." And with this, Corvo took a hold of Daud's arm, and started to pull at him, all while holding the umbrella still, having made sure that they were both under it during their first moments of reuinion. Daud didn't even hesitate as he let himself be dragged along, the two of them idly chatting on the way, about things they've learned, Corvo more than Daud, but that was usually how it was always.

Over a few rooftops, and down into a window, to then end up in an apartment left empty for what seemed to be years, Daud collected his bag and gear, his sword always having been on his hip from the moment he decided to hold it. As he went back to Corvo, he showed Corvo his new crossbow with lots of pride, the two men swinging out of the window afterwards, Corvo challenging his partner to a race. One that he won, though he could swear something was up sometimes as Daud wasn't heard for a moment or two. It was most likely in his head.

Eventually Corvo went back to his room, one more "special" than the others, as it wasn't anyone in there else from him. With his position came some benefits, of course. And it wasn't exactly at the barracks, so it was easier to sneak in there than elsewhere.

Daud came in through the window, just for the fun of it, and eventually, they both slotted themselves to sleep after a meal, enjoyed over silence, as they would back home. They fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.

Corvo woke up to Daud still sleeping beside him, drooling ever so slightly on his arm he was resting his head under. Corvo didn't care, and found himself huffing while tossing an arm over him.

Enjoying the moment.

Once both were awake, Daud the more grumpy morning person than Corvo as he hadn't had a lot of sleep as of late, still found himself relaxed enough to eat another meal with Corvo, and promise he'd come back later that day.

And he did, wearing the same shirt he had "happened" to take by "accident". One of Corvo's.

[gb-fics]

The Howling of Ghosts

Golden Bomber Fanfiction

Note: This one is for Jun’s birthday today! (^-^) I was a bit troubled by this one, since I wanted to write about Kyan Yutaka x Kiryuuin Shou mostly, but also wanted to give Jun some space for his bday. But then I remembered how scared Jun is of ghosts and stuff when I saw their monthly broadcast lately, where they had to walk through the dark alone and Kenji got up so casually to give Jun a scare - like it was the most obvious thing in the world that they had to prank him, haha. So, yes, this story is about Jun getting a birthday-scare :D

At the night of August 30th, the howling of ghosts resounded in the woods.

„I’m scared“, Shou said.

Kyan Yutaka did not believe him.

“Don’t act so whiny”, he scolded him and pointed the flashlight right at Shou’s face.

“Oi!”, Shou protested and tried to slap the light away while squinting his eyes. His face looked even funnier when he did.

“This was a stupid idea”, Shou added, still sounding whiny.

Yutaka lowered the flashlight, trailing the light down Shou’s bare arms, his back leaning against the tree behind him and his legs pulled up as if he tried to make himself as small as possible.

He looked lost and like he was freezing.

“You cold?”, Yutaka asked.

He thought of wrapping his arms around Shou tightly, of keeping him warm and safe and close to himself.

“Yeah.” Shou nodded and looked up at Yutaka expectedly.

“Well, then you should have taken a jacket, idiot!”, Yutaka said.

He pushed up the sleeves of his own t-shirt to move his arms around more freely.

Sure, he could have been kinder on Shou. In fact, Yutaka was quite the gentleman, if he wanted to be. With Shou, he didn’t want to be, though.

“I didn’t plan to spend all night out here. What’s taking them so long?”, Shou pouted.

Yutaka shrugged nonchalantly.

He disliked it when Shou’s voice got so high-pitched and loud. He was asking for attention too desperately.

“Jun probably didn’t want to walk into the woods in the middle of the night. You know him. He thinks we might prank him.”

“To be fair - we are going to prank him”, Shou pointed out. “Also, he is scared of other things than us I guess.”

“Like what?”

Yutaka furrowed his brow. Just like Jun and Shou, he had grown up in the city. The woods at night weren’t familiar territory for him either, and he had to admit he would have felt more comfortable in a shady back alley right now, but still the darkness had nothing to offer that scared him more than the way he felt his own heartbeat whenever Shou smiled.

“Ghosts”, Shou said. “Spirits, bugs.”

Yutaka snorted.

“In that order?”, he assured.

Shou pursed his lips and for a moment he looked nothing but annoyed – not scared, not lost, just disapproving.

Yutaka’s chest warmed up immediately. He loved those short seconds when Shou dropped his act and his strength shone through.

Shou was insecure about a lot of things. He was anxious about his physical appearance, about how to talk to people, about being honest with his feelings. And at some point of his life – before Yutaka had even met him – he had obviously decided to play out his anxiety in a cute, helpless way. Where he was clumsy, he acted as if he needed help with everything. Where he was uncomfortable in a dark forest, he acted scared to death and as if he needed protection. Yutaka noticed that it grew worse when they were alone together and he had noticed that Shou had acted that way around every person he had ever dated. He seemed convinced that the pity card was the only card he could play to become attractive to someone.

But cute and helpless was never the way Yutaka had viewed him. Shou was the kind of person who could achieve anything they had set their mind onto. At the dark of night, away from the city, Yutaka didn’t feel the need to protect Shou. If anything, it was Shou who would save him over and over again.

A sudden noise to his right stirred up the silence.

Shou let out an over-the-top squeal.

“Scary”, he mumbled, crossing the arms in front of his chest.

He was looking at Yutaka again as if he was expecting some sort of comfort from him.

“What … what is it?”, Yutaka teased, letting his hand holding the flashlight tremble.

The circle of light bounced across the rustling leaves of a bush nearby.

This was the moment for Yutaka to show off in front of Shou a little. He knew that Shou wanted him to show off.

Usually, Yutaka liked to show off in situations like these himself and he had been guilty of doing it a couple of times before. “I’ll protect you”, “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything hurt you”. Shou’s whole act indicated that he wanted to hear those sentences and it would be so easy to just say them. After that, it would be easy to take hold of Shou’s hand and it would be easy to kiss him afterwards. They would follow a ritual established over long years.

“Oh, mighty spirits!”, Yutaka called out. “I beseech thou – take him first!”

He wasn’t going to follow some ritual, though.

Shou chuckled. His face wrinkled up and he lowered his arms. He looked more relaxed instantly.

“Well, thanks a lot”, he said.

Encouraged, Yutaka took a step towards the bush that had rustled only moments ago.

“I don’t think there is anything …”, he started, breaking off and letting himself fall to the ground without warning, dropping the flashlight.

In his music career, falling to the ground was one of the things Yutaka had brought to perfection.

He still hurt his left elbow.

He rolled around the dirty ground, staining his clothes completely. Then he robbed backwards towards the bush, pretending to be pulled into it.

“It got me, Shou, it got me!”, he shouted, grabbing for a stick on the ground and smashing it into the bush to defend himself against an invisible attack. Leaves were raining down on him.

Yutaka was aware that he was making a total fool out of himself. He probably looked ridiculous and not very convincing at that. But if only it made Shou smile, it was worth it.

Shou acted like a princess waiting to be saved by her knight in shining armour. But Yutaka knew better. Shou was a warrior king and Yutaka ready to apply as his court jester. He loved the sound of his laughter.

Yutaka slashed out with his stick once more, before struggling to his feet again.

Threateningly he shook his fist at the bush.

“No need to worry, I showed this bastard”, he told Shou.

“I feel so safe with you”, Shou stated dryly. “If a tree attacks, I know you can defend it.”

Yutaka chuckled.

Shou had spoken sarcastically. He wasn’t speaking for an audience now, he wasn’t trying to act cute, either. He was just mocking Yutaka without caring about how he came across.

Yutaka bend down and picked up the flashlight from where he had dropped it earlier.

“They should be here soon”, he observed. “We should switch off the light.”

Shou nodded and smacked his lips. It was just a small reaction that proved he wasn’t happy about the idea of entire darkness. But he did not protest and did not whine. He wasn’t causing a fuss, but Yutaka could tell he would have preferred to keep the light on nonetheless. It was just a small insecurity, not quite strength, but not a show for anyone to see either. It was so real and honest, that for a second, Yutaka wanted to bend down and kiss Shou right on the lips.

He was crazy about the real Shou. Unfortunately, Shou did his best to keep that version of himself locked away constantly.

“It’s okay”, Yutaka said vaguely, trying to soothe Shou now that he hadn’t turned to him for soothing.

He sat down on the ground as well, leaning his back against the tree next to Shou. Their arms were brushing against each other lightly. Shou’s skin felt cool. Yutaka wished he had taken a jacket to lend it to him. He had no constancy when it came to Shou. One moment he wanted to bring out his strong side and the next, he wanted to spoil him and allow him to be weak with him always. Sometimes, he wanted both at once.

“I’m going to turn off the light”, he announced, his thumb already lingering on the switch. But he couldn’t bring himself to push it.

If the light was gone, it would be just the darkness; the darkness and Shou. It would be the two of them and in the dark Yutaka would sense his body so close next to himself and he would feel his own heartbeat too fast and too loud and his mouth would feel dry. No ghost haunting those woods could be scarier than this.

“It’s okay.” This time, it was Shou who said it. He didn’t sound teasing and he didn’t sound scared. He sounded like the person Yutaka trusted more than anything.

He reached out and placed his hand over Yutaka’s holding the flashlight.

In the end, Yutaka wasn’t sure whom of them had turned the switch. But suddenly it was dark around them. It was the kind of dark you didn’t get in the city. Even if he looked directly at him, Yutaka could not make out Shou’s profile.

He could still sense Shou’s hand on his own, though.

For the first time tonight, Kyan Yutaka felt scared.

 ***

“I mean, I do appreciate that you guys treated me to this trip”, Jun said.

He did not appreciate it at all.

For his birthday present, he could have imagined something better than spending his only free days in between public appearances at some godforsaken hotel with his bandmembers.

“I do love spending time with you guys on my birthday”, Jun continued.

He would have preferred to be home right now. With his family.

“But do we really have to …”, he gestured towards the trees in front of them.

Jun wasn’t a friend of nature. At least, not nature in the dark.

“Come on, Jun”, Kenji said. “We have a special surprise for you, but we have to walk up there.”

Jun could imagine all too well what that surprise would look like.

They would make him walk through the forest at night with nothing by his side but Kenji and a flashlight. And then they would prank him by giving him a scare. And although Jun saw it coming, he would scream and maybe even cry, because there always was the chance that this time – just this time – it wasn’t Shou and Yutaka jumping out from behind a tree.

Jun hadn’t chosen to be superstitious and he hadn’t chosen to be scared so easily. But that did not stop his bandmembers from taking advantage of it.

They would probably record it on video as well and then they would share his silly screams all over the internet, having a good laugh at it.

Jun wished he was as indifferent to the dark as Kenji or that at least his screams were just a little fake like those of Shou and Yutaka. Knowing he at least had done it on purpose to please the audience would restore some of his dignity. But Jun was far too scared to fake either bravery or fear. All he could do was try his best to hold back the tears.

“Can’t you give me the surprise down here?”, Jun asked and gestured over to the brightly lit windows of the hotel behind them.

They were still so close that they didn’t really need the flashlight yet, but Jun was already feeling uncomfortable.

Human beings weren’t supposed to roam the forest at this time of night. At this hour, it belonged to otherworldly beings. Jun had thought everyone knew about that. Just his bandmembers didn’t seem to care.

“No, we can’t”, Kenji chimed happily.

He was walking so confidently his steps were almost bouncing. Jun wished he would slow down. He wasn’t in a hurry to get away from the hotel any further.

He wondered why he was following Kenji to begin with. He knew that it was going to be a prank – and none that would end nicely for him.

But deep down, Jun still believed in Golden Bomber. He believed that no matter how cruel his bandmembers treated him from time to time, that really, they valued his contribution and that some day they would express how much they appreciated Jun. Maybe that day was today. Maybe they had changed and instead of playing a mean joke on him, they just wanted to express their love and admiration.

Chances weren’t high, admittedly, but Jun felt like he ought to give them the opportunity to prove themselves at least. He had given them plenty of opportunities already.

Leaves rustled under his shoes as they walked on. Every noise they created made Jun want to flinch.

“Kenji?”, he asked.

The light from the hotel had vanished completely by now. The path before them was illuminated by the flashlight, but Kenji was just a silhouette in the dark.

“Don’t worry, Jun”, Kenji said casually.

Jun wondered how Kenji managed to stay so calm in such a sinister environment. Maybe it came from growing up on the countryside. Maybe Kenji was just fearless.

Something like the far-away echo of a human voice rang out suddenly.

This time, Jun did flinch. He whimpered.

“Someone is screaming”, he said.

“I didn’t hear anything”, Kenji said.

Jun assumed he was lying. Or his own nervous senses were already playing tricks on him.

“Maybe someone got attacked”, he pointed out.

Kenji snorted.

“By what? A tree? A bush? Those are the only things out here.”

The sound came back, Jun was sure of it.

He had to control himself violently to not cling to Kenji’s back. If there were ghosts in this forest, even Kenji wouldn’t be able to protect him.

“Oh fuck”, Kenji said all of a sudden.

Alarmed Jun turned around.

“What?”, he asked.

“I forgot my phone. I’m not sure I will find the right spot without it”, Kenji said, percussing the pockets of his pants demonstratively. “I will have to get it.”

“Great, we can go back”, Jun said, trying not to sound too relieved. Having to go all the way back was bad enough already.

“No, no, I will get it myself”, Kenji said. “You just wait here.”

Jun let out a nervous laughter, just to cover up how close he was to crying.

“No way”, he protested.

“You can just continue to walk up the path”, Kenji offered. “I’ll catch up to you.”

“No!”, Jun said and walked after Kenji, who now took a few steps backwards.

“I’ll be back in no time”, Kenji said, but Jun reached out to take hold of his arm.

“Don’t you dare to leave me here!”, he shouted.

Kenji took back another step, avoiding Jun’s grasp. He also switched off the flashlight.

All of a sudden, it was dark around them. In the city, it never got this dark, Jun thought. In this kind of darkness, you lost orientation immediately.

He stumbled forwards, his arms held out in front of him to eventually catch Kenji, but all he met with was empty space.

“Kenji?”, he called out. “Kenji?!”

For a moment he listened.

They had created so much noise while walking up here, but now there wasn’t even the sound of Kenji’s footsteps. He could trot as lightly as a cat, if he wanted to.

Hot pressure started to burn behind Jun’s eyelids, but he swallowed hard to fight it back.

He felt lonely and vulnerable. Whatever lured in these woods, Jun was defenceless against it now. Kenji hadn’t even left him the flashlight. It was scary and it was cruel. Once more, Jun’s bandmembers had let him down.

As quietly as possible – to not stir anything or anyone tonight – Jun sat down on the ground. He wasn’t going to walk around here alone. He would just wait for Kenji to come back. Or for the sun to come up. Whatever happened first.

Slowly, his eyes started to adjust to the darkness. He still couldn’t make out anything, but the night seemed to tone down to a normal black with different shades and shadows in it.

Jun took in another deep breath. He was beginning to calm down.

That was when the ghosts started their howling.

 ***

“It’s so dark”, Shou muttered, pulling back his hand from Yutaka’s. He had already held on to it for far too long.

Fact was that he didn’t want to let go. Holding on to Yutaka felt soothing and like he was safe with him; even in the dark of night.

“It’s the middle of the night. We’re in the woods. Darkness really comes unexpected here”, Yutaka said dryly.

His voice sounded louder in the dark. Maybe because Shou was listening more closely, or maybe because Yutaka tried to cover up some insecurities of his own.

“Oh, shut up”, Shou said, shoving his shoulder against Yutaka next to himself. He liked the feeling of their arms brushing against each other. Yutaka’s skin was always warm.

“Mmh”, Shou gave a low hum. The sound of his own voice calmed him down. If he concentrated on the humming, he couldn’t listen to worrisome sounds from the woods.

He thought of something to say, but everything he usually had to offer in such a situation would bounce off Yutaka for sure.

If Shou told him he was scared, Yutaka would scold him to man up. If he asked for protection, Yutaka would hand him a stick to protect himself.

Of course, Shou did not feel like he needed protection.

But he thought it would feel nice, if Yutaka tried. He could wrap his arm around Shou and whisper soothing words into his ear. It wouldn’t matter what he said, it would be about the gesture and the intimacy.

Shou had always liked Yutaka best of all the members. He had liked him best of pretty much all the people in the world. He was handsome and charming and funny and Shou had dropped quite a few hints over the course of time.

But no matter how obvious he made it for Yutaka to act upon it, he hadn’t reacted to it at all.

“I’m worried we’re taking it too far”, Shou said quietly. “It’s really scary out here.”

He reached out again, putting his hand onto Yutaka’s lower arm. It was meant to look like a joke; as if he just wanted to emphasize his words by clinging to him. Really, he just wanted to touch Yutaka’s arm.

Shou liked to hold on to someone. He viewed himself as the kind of person who would be scared and who needed protection. Because he was tired of trying so hard for everything. He wanted to be spoiled, he wanted to be held tightly by someone as handsome as Yutaka and feel like allowing the other one to be strong was enough to make himself loveable.

“He’ll be fine”, Yutaka said.

As usually, he spoke quite coldly. Shou pulled back his hand again.

“How will we even know Jun is close?”, he asked, letting annoyance drip into his voice now.

He was annoyed that he was always the one reaching out to Yutaka; that he was always the one making offers and that it was leading him nowhere.

Sometimes, he just wanted to pick a fight with Yutaka, because he got angry at him for not wanting to be Shou’s saviour.

“We’ll know when we hear him sobbing”, Yutaka stated.

He spoke matter-of-factly and it was his seriousness that made Shou laugh in spite of himself. Yutaka was an idiot. An idiot who always said the wrong things and who always said the right things nonetheless.

Shou had always thought he would be happy once someone held him unconditionally, that he would be happy if someone allowed him to be weak. But he had been held like that before and he had had partners who had allowed him to be weak as well. It had felt nice. But he wasn’t sure if he had actually been happy.

Whenever Yutaka made him laugh, however, Shou’s chest felt bubbly and hot and he wished he could stop time to always feel this light.

It made him feel angry at Yutaka, because those emotions didn’t match with the person as whom Shou liked to view himself. It also made him feel overjoyed, though. It was confusing.

He let out a high-pitched sigh that turned into a groan towards the end.

Something hit the top of his head.

“What are you doing?!”, Yutaka scolded. He sounded slightly amused, though.

“I’m practicing scary noises”, Shou replied with his best ghost voice.

“If you ever get tired of doing music, I’m sure they’ll hire you at a chamber of horrors”, Yutaka said.

“I got the voice?”, Shou asked back in his normal tone.

“You got the face, too”, Yutaka said.

“Oi!”, Shou shouted and shoved against Yutaka’s shoulder again.

He reached out into the dark. His eyes had adjusted to the night and very vaguely, he could make out the shape of Yutaka’s body. He tried to take hold of his hands, but didn’t find them immediately.

“Give me the flashlight!”, he inquired.

“You’re still scared of the dark?”, Yutaka teased, moving against him, probably to get the flashlight out of Shou’s reach.

Shou’s hands were brushing over Yutaka’s thighs and up his chest, still groping for the flashlight.

“No, I just want to punch you with it!”, Shou replied and Yutaka started laughing.

Only when Yutaka’s body started shaking against his, did Shou realize how close he had gotten to him unintentionally.

If he was honest, making Yutaka laugh caused the warm, bubbly feeling in his chest, too. He felt like wanting to stop time again.

“Hey”, Yutaka suddenly said quietly.

His voice was very close. His body felt so warm, Shou couldn’t pull back. For a moment, he didn’t care about the darkness and about the cold and about the wood and the spirits and the ghosts and the bugs and Jun and Kenji and really anything at all. He only cared about Yutaka’s voice so close to him and his hand suddenly on Shou’s neck and his own heartbeat. Then he leaned in and forgot about those things as well, because Yutaka’s lips were soft and warm like everything about him. They curled up against Shou’s mouth as if he was smiling into the kiss and Shou felt the unreasonable need to giggle.

This was what it felt like, he realized. Being happy.

He pulled back a little, his hands clinging onto the fabric of Yutaka’s shirt without Shou being able to recall when he had grabbed it.

In the far distance something like a shout resounded.

It sounded suspiciously like a human voice – calling out Kenji’s name.

“Did you hear that?”, Shou whispered half-heartedly.

He could imagine a lot of things more fun than going out to look for Jun right now. All of them started with kissing Yutaka again, but most didn’t stop there.

“Just faintly”, Yutaka mumbled back, pulling Shou in again. “Must be the howling of ghosts.”

 ***

Kenji hadn’t walked back all the way to the hotel.

He had just trotted down the path for a while, before turning back again.

According to the plan, Jun had stumbled farther along the path until he eventually ran into Shou and Yutaka, who would give him a mighty scare – which they recorded on their mobile phones of course.

Once Jun had calmed down, Kenji would sneak up onto the group and repeat.

He had to admit, though, that the plan wasn’t quite bulletproof.

It had been difficult enough to leave Jun behind earlier. He had proven to be clingy. It was possible he hadn’t followed the path at all. Maybe he had tried to return to the hotel on his own. Maybe the ghosts had gotten him. Maybe he had been lost in the forest. Maybe, they would have to go look for Jun’s dead body in the morning.

And even if this part of the plan had worked out, there was still the possibility that Shou and Yutaka had missed their entry. Leaving the two of them alone together in the dark hadn’t been the brightest idea, had they asked Kenji. They tended to get distracted by each other easily, to put it nicely. Sometimes, it was torture to watch them prowling around each other with neither of them finally making a move. Kenji’s worst fear was, that once they decided to make a move – it would be bad timing.

Quietly, he walked up the path again, careful not to create any unnecessary noise. He had to keep the flashlight switched off as well, if he didn’t want Jun to notice him. Kenji didn’t mind much, though. He wasn’t afraid of the dark and his natural balance kept him from tripping on the uneven ground.

He was about to reach the point where he had left Jun behind. For a moment, Kenji paused.

If he listened really closely, he could hear soft rustling and small inhales now and then.

Kenji stomped down hard to create some noise.

“Kenji?”, Jun’s voice came out of the dark. He sounded like he was on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

Kenji inhaled deeply, too. Jun hadn’t moved a bit.

“Yes, it’s me”, he confirmed and switched the flashlight on.

Jun was sitting on the ground, a mess of ripped leaves on his lap. Obviously, he had torn them up to keep his hands busy.

“Sorry to make you wait”, Kenji said and sat down next to Jun.

He was keeping the light away from his face as to not blind him, but he could see how the corners of his mouth were wrinkled up and his lips were trembling as always when Jun tried to fight back tears.

Kenji felt sorry they had put him through this - and wouldn’t even get a funny video in return.

“Idiot”, Jun said and boxed against Kenji’s chest.

Kenji did not protest. He deserved it.

“Actually, Shou and Yutaka were supposed to give you a scare”, Kenji said.

“I figured.” Jun folded his hands on his lap, right on top of the crumpled leaves. Kenji knew how much he hated to get his clothes dirty. The sight was even more touching therefore.

“Maybe they didn’t find you”, Kenji offered.

“Oh, I did get a scare alright”, Jun said, speaking hastily and excited now, so his lisping shone through more violently.

Kenji looked at him questioningly. With the flashlight pointing away from his face, Jun could probably not see it, but Kenji banked on the fact that he would continue talking anyway.

“There, can you hear that?”, Jun asked, raising his index finger to signal for Kenji to listen attentively.

At first, Kenji thought that Jun, who was so easily frightened, had been imagining things.

But then he heard it too.

It sounded almost like human voices, but faint and strange. It wasn’t someone talking, but something more animalic; guttural sounds that could only be born in this kind of haunted nights.

“It’s the ghosts howling”, Jun said seriously.

Kenji stayed silent to listen some more.

His first thought had been ghosts, too, but he wasn’t quite sure if howling was really the right term. It rather sounded like moaning and sighing.

“Or something even scarier”, Jun added meaningful.

Kenji glanced at him.

Jun looked as if he didn’t want to spend more thoughts on the second option. He also looked exhausted and distraught.

Kenji decided that Jun had been through enough for tonight.

“You are right”, he said soothingly. “I’m sure it’s the howling of ghosts.”

[bittysvalentines]

Blue Suits and Wedding Cake

From: @effyeahzimbits 

To: @karin848

Rating: T+

Pairings: Zimbits

Warnings: Jack is ill ☹ and one cuss word

Summary: Fevers can make you say silly things. Or give you the guts to ask something that’s been on your mind for a while.

Bitty absent-mindedly scratched the dog’s belly with one hand, his other scrolling through the Falcs’ Twitter feed. Even after he’d finished work for the day he liked to read through posts and replies and keep up to date. Jack teased him for it, but it just showed how much Bitty loved his job. Walking into an internship with the Falconers’ social media department straight out of college was a dream come true.

     Maddie rolled over and demanded more of his attention, nudging his hand incessantly with her nose until he gave up on Twitter altogether. He snickered and tossed his phone aside in favour of scratching both her ears, laughing as she practically melted against him. He paused the fussing only to snap a quick picture and send it to Kent, who promptly responded with five heart eyes emojis. The group chat they shared with Kent and his partner was mostly filled with photos of Kent’s cat and their dog.

     “We should take you out before daddy comes home, huh?” Bitty asked the golden retriever, now scratching underneath her chin. Her tongue lolled out comically, so he took that as a yes.

     The streets were quiet at this time of night, and the walk was short and sweet. Old anxieties died hard, and Bitty wasn’t comfortable lingering outside, even with a huge dog by his side. He walked to the small park at the end of their block, let Maddie do her business and then headed back home. Longer walks happened on his lunchtimes or days off, and the best ones were when he and Jack shared a rare day together. They’d pack up a picnic and drive out a bit until they found a strip of countryside and walk for hours, Maddie bolting ahead chasing birds and her own tail.

       They were home fifteen minutes later. Bitty hung Maddie’s leash up on the coat rack and noticed Jack’s game bag had been dumped by the shoe rack. He followed the trail of clothes, picking them up as he went, to their bedroom. Maddie beat him to it, and he found her shoving her nose into Jack’s waist as he attempted to undress. Bitty smiled fondly and kissed Jack’s cheek on his way to the laundry basket.

     “Good game, sweetpea.”

     “Thanks,” Jack yawned, obediently fussing the dog until she allowed him to take off his suit pants. “Did you watch?” He asked, though he already knew the answer.

     “I always watch,” Bitty replied with a lopsided grin, hanging up Jack’s jacket. “I thought you were going out for a drink afterwards?”

     “Didn’t feel like it. I’m tired,” Jack shrugged.

     It wasn’t often Jack went out with his teammates after a game, but he made an effort to do so at least once a week and would only miss a night if he was really feeling under the weather. Wearing only his underwear now, he crawled into bed with a contented sigh and pulled the sheets up to his chin. Bitty couldn’t resist coming over to inspect him like he did after most games, usually finding bruises and scrapes. He did look exhausted, so Bitty leaned down to kiss his forehead tenderly.

     “I’ll lock up and we’ll get an early night,” he promised, brushing his hair out of his eyes for him.

     “Sounds good,” Jack yawned again, smiling sleepily.

     Bitty finished their usual nightly routine by himself, turning off lights and making sure all windows and doors were safely locked. He returned to the bedroom a short while later to find Jack already asleep and snoring softly. Bitty stopped and watched him for a moment, thinking that he did look a bit peaky. Hoping it was just something a good night’s sleep would help, he stripped himself and tiptoed to bed. He scrolled through his phone for another half an hour or so before becoming drowsy enough to lie down and sleep. He curled himself around Jack’s chest and soon drifted off.

     He awoke to an empty bed and the ensuite bathroom light glaring in his face. He heard the toilet flushing and squinted at his phone screen for the time. After determining that it was the very early hours, he laid back down, waiting for Jack to come back to bed. When he didn’t right away, Bitty frowned and sat up, trying to peer into the bathroom.

     “Jack?” He called sleepily, rubbing his face. “Everything okay, honey?”

     He received a muffled groan in reply, which only concerned him further. He threw back the sheets and got up to check, carefully stepping over the dog on his way to the bathroom. Jack was slumped beside the toilet, his forehead resting on the cool porcelain. He looked exhausted and miserable, having obviously just thrown up.

     “Oh dear, sugar,” Bitty smiled sympathetically, crouching beside him.

     “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Jack mumbled, throat scratchy.

     “Don’t be silly. Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling sick?” Bitty half scolded him, gently pressing the back of his palm to his clammy forehead.

     “Thought I was just tired. Didn’t feel that bad,” Jack replied, sounding like every word was wearing him out.

    Bitty tsked but didn’t tell him off, instead standing up to fetch him a glass of water. Jack accepted it with shaking fingers and a slurred thank you and sipped it with a pained expression. His face eased a little when Bitty pressed a wet cloth to his face, gently cleaning him up, and he smiled weakly.

     “Sorry I’m not so hot right now,” he joked, managing to laugh a bit when Bitty snorted at him.

     “About as hot as me when I caught norovirus that time,” Bitty reminded him with a smirk.

     He’d been bedridden for days last winter, moving only to run to the bathroom and barely making it in time. Jack had stayed with him as much as he could, and though he couldn’t do much, Bitty had been glad for his company. He was sorry Jack was feeling so ill, but at least he could return the favour.

    The water didn’t stay down for long, and Jack was soon hugging the toilet bowl again as he vomited. Bitty rubbed his back tenderly through it all, feeling useless. He wasn’t sure if it was a bug or food poisoning, but one thing was certain – Jack was going to need a few days off work. Bitty made a mental note to call HR in the morning and let them know. Luckily, he had a couple of days off himself, though he gave up his previous ideas of romantic picnic walks and catching a movie at the cinema.

     “Come on sweetpea,” Bitty murmured, nudging him after he’d been quiet for a few long minutes. “Let’s get you back into bed.”

     It was hard work, Jack was dead on his feet. He didn’t dare drink any more water, but he rinsed out his mouth and managed to give his face a quick wash. He collapsed back into bed, curling up tightly and burying his face into the cool pillow. Bitty could only help him feel comfortable, pressing kisses to his shoulder and stroking his hair until he fell asleep again.

     Bitty didn’t sleep well himself after that. He got up a few hours later, dragging himself up to get coffee and let Maddie out onto the balcony to pee. Jack slept hard, and Bitty didn’t have the heart to wake him. Once the caffeine helped him feel a bit more alive he grabbed the dog’s leash and his wallet, deciding to jog to the supermarket and kill two birds with one stone. He bought plenty of Gatorade and freeze pops, knowing that was all Jack was going to be able to stomach for a while. He ran back too; the exercise helping to wake his brain and burn off a little of Maddie’s energy until he could take her for a longer walk. She was used to running with Jack in the mornings, and Bitty knew his own jog paled in comparison.

     It was early afternoon when Jack woke up. He was still feverish and pale, and could barely manage any more than a few sips of water. Bitty switched Netflix on for him, but he watched it with listless eyes in between trips to the bathroom to empty his stomach again. When he flopped back into bed, Bitty let him rest his head in his lap so he could play with his hair. Jack pressed his nose to Bitty’s thigh and closed his eyes, silently pleading for his body to get its shit together.

     “I wonder if it was the fish you had at the restaurant yesterday,” Bitty mused, scratching soothingly at his scalp.

     “Probably,” Jack agreed, his throat so sore his voice was no more than a whisper. “Tasted weird.”

     “My poor man,” Bitty simpered, genuinely feeling sorry for him. It sucked being ill and not being able to do anything but wait it out. “I wish I could help.”

     “’S’nice just having you sit with me,” Jack reassured him, opening his eyes to give him a tired smile.

     Bitty returned the gesture, glad he could do that at least. It fell quiet between them then, save for the sounds of whatever documentary was playing. Jack half dozed, lulled by the hand in his hair. Bitty entertained himself with his phone, messaging their friends and updating Kent with pictures and texts. Kent sounded concerned, but Bitty persuaded him no to catch the next flight out. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d jetted to Providence on a whim and probably wouldn’t be the last either.

     It had been quiet for a whole hour and Bitty was sure Jack was asleep, so he was surprised when Jack mumbled something into his leg.

     “What was that, sugar?”

     Jack pulled his face back a bit, though he didn’t bother to open his eyes, only making himself more comfortable on Bitty’s thigh.

     “Marry me?”

     Bitty let out a thin, nervous laugh, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest.

     “Ask me again when you don’t have a fever,” he replied as smoothly as he could manage.

     Jack simply gave a half-committal hum in his throat and settled back to sleep again. Bitty shook his head and resumed stroking his hair, albeit with slightly shaky fingers. Once he’d gotten over his shock, he couldn’t help feeling amused. Jack probably wouldn’t even remember what he’d said once his temperature returned to normal.

     “Wouldn’t it be nice if he did though, huh girl?” Bitty asked Maddie under his breath. She wagged her tail at him.

     Jack gradually got over his food poisoning. It took a week or two for things to return to normal once more, though he was tired for a while after. Bitty didn’t mention his abrupt proposal, not wanting to embarrass either of them. The idea stuck fast in Bitty’s mind though, and he found himself fantasising about blue suits and wedding cake. He assumed Jack had forgotten all about it.

     A few weeks later though, he found that Jack hadn’t forgotten at all.      The End

Happy Valentine’s Day Karin! I hope you enjoyed the fluff. <3 Love, Effyeahzimbits.

[buttsonthebeach]

I noticed Ellana likes to say "you deserve this". So, prompt: 5 times Ellana told Solas he deserved something, and .... either 1 time he told *her* or 1 time he believed her, your choice. (Or both :P)

Ahh this took me so long. But I hope you enjoy it, dear friend!!

References events across several fics in my Hamilton x Dragon Age series.

My Ko-Fi || My Commissions (slots currently available!)

Pairing: Ellana x Solas through the years

Rating: General

1.

The first time she tells him he deserves something, it is a simple thing - her help rearranging his cottage, after bringing artifacts back from the Hinterlands.

“This is not necessary, Herald,” he tells her as she moves papers and books aside while he balances the shards that the oculara revealed in his arms. “I could have managed.”

“Please,” she says, beginning to arrange them on his desk. “I can’t have our resident Fade expert be seen struggling with his own door. How would that make the rest of us look?”

He snorts. “Few people in this world regard a ragged elven apostate as an expert in anything.”

She looks at him, serious, concerned. Grey eyes bright with conviction. “Well, I see you as an expert. And you deserve to be treated as such.”

It has been so long since he believed he deserved anything, and she is so bright and fleeting, and this whole world is so dull and wrong, that he can ignore her that first time, and return to a world where he knows he deserves nothing.

2.

It gets harder to ignore, this idea that he deserves things. She takes him to Harritt to have armor crafted specially for him, armor that will protect him and will enhance his casting. She has watched him carefully, already knows what would suit him most. She asks him which watch he would like, what his opinion is on which road they should take.

Why? He wants to ask. Why treat me with kindness, when I am the reason you wear the markings of a slave as if they are something to be proud of? As if I am not the cause of the magic burning through your left hand?

He has to remind himself that she does not know. That even if his shame is a live coal in his chest at all hours of day or night, he has hidden it as well as always. Even from someone with eyes as piercing as Ellana Lavellan’s.

But even if she can’t feel the heat of that live coal, she feels something in him. Nurtures him in small and important ways. Keeps showing him, in word and in deed, that he deserves things.

A would-be god appears. A mountain falls. He thinks she is dead - and that he would deserve nothing less than to lose her just as she started to become real to him.

But she isn’t dead.

She crawls bleeding out of the snow and limps back to him, and as he studies her in the veilfire torch, her exhaustion and determination, he knows what she deserves, and so he he takes her to Skyhold.

3.

“You don’t have to mourn alone, Solas.”

She doesn’t explicitly say that he deserves it, but she doesn’t have to. Not in that moment. She has shown him, again, and again, and again.

And that’s why he kisses her.

Why he takes her to bed and loves her, lays both of them bare.

I can deserve this, he tries to tell himself, each time he loves her. Each time he says it to himself he starts to believe it a little more.

But then there is the Temple, and the Sentinels, and the Well, and the hundred reminders of the world and the people he destroyed.

Then there is Crestwood.

And none of her words, none of her actions, can make him think he deserves it at all.

4.

It is many years before she tells him he deserves something again. War and death, a whole continent, and all his lies separate them. But even those things cannot separate them forever. Even everything he’s done cannot stop Ellana from telling him what he deserves.

When he surrenders to her and ends the war and the death, she is back to telling him what he deserves with action and gesture and expression alone. With the way she turns her back to him when they are on the ship to Kirkwall, but never all the way. With the way she looks at him when she thinks he is not looking. With the way her lips are always set into a hard, thin line when their eyes do meet.

You deserve this. You deserve my silence. My anger. My hate.

It is the first time that Solas starts to believe that he actually deserves what she is offering.

But before that belief can become complete - a solid, real thing in his stomach, a punishment he can carry for eternity - she tells him he deserves something else.

She takes his hand in a quiet garden in Hightown, and even if she doesn’t say the words, she tells him he deserves forgiveness with the way she leans her forehead against his. The way she says that she wants to try again.

Solas’s throat closes up around those thoughts. Forgiveness. Can you imagine?

5.

After they move into their own home, in a brand new country called Enasan, and they start to learn their way around the new life they are building, they both realize that they have no idea when their birthdays are. Both of them come from cultures that don’t make too much fuss about them. A thread that connects their people through the millennia. But they see other couples celebrating each other once a year, and Ellana wants that for him.“I’m going to pick a day and spoil you,” she says. “And that’s that.”

And she does. She wakes him up one morning with a rain of kisses, with his favorite cakes for breakfast, with a new book on advanced enchanting, the ink so fresh you can still smell it, the binding so new that it cracks when he first opens it. They sit in bed together as he reads and the morning is sweetness and warm skin.

“You deserve this, you know,” Ellana says softly, drowsily, disconnected from any particular thought or thread in their conversation.

Solas stops for a moment. Swallows down the urge to say no, I don’t. He kisses her forehead.

“Thank you,” he says, and it is all he can say around the lump in his throat.

And the one time he told Ellana

Ellana is a confident woman, sometimes to the point of brashness. She picks a course of action and she follows it. She had some insecurities, to be sure, when she first became Inquisitor, but the years have largely melted that away. She knows her worth, she knows what she deserves.

It is, strangely, becoming a mother that seems to undo part of this.

Then again, anyone subjected to hours of grueling labor, to a long recovery afterwards, to waking every few hours and nursing and nursing and nursing, to making sure to eat enough to keep up the nursing - anyone who had felt their body change and grow over nine months and was now witnessing it change back again, not to what it was before but to something else - anyone who had gone through those things was most likely entitled to a little insecurity.

And the truth was that in the months before Ashara was born, Solas had filled himself full of insecurity. Let it spill out into rash actions like finding Falon’Din’s orb, like lying to Ellana. Some of those feelings did still linger. Sometimes he held their tiny, perfect daughter and studied her curled fists, her soft cheeks, her little kicking legs. The way she still curled up frog-like against his chest, legs and arms tucked in, the same way the midwife said she had been in her mother’s womb. She trusted him to give her the only comfort she’d ever known while he held her. How could he deserve that?

But seeing Ellana staring down at their sleeping daughter in her cradle one night, her brows drawn, her gray eyes full of doubt, he knows it is not time for his own insecurities. It is time to give back everything she had given to him over the years.

So he goes to her and puts one arm around her waist and pulls her tight against him.

“What is it, vhenan?” he asks.

Ellana shakes her head. It takes her a moment to speak. “I am so worried that I will never be enough for her.”

She leans into him and he accepts her weight. Let him carry her, for a while, after everything she has carried.

“You deserve this,” he says, putting every ounce of feeling he can muster into the words. “You will always be enough. More than enough. I doubt many things, but I never doubt that.”

She turns to look at him, gray eyes studying now, piercing like daggers. Then she softens, and leans her forehead against his cheek, and he takes her into his arms and feels a surge of gratitude for this moment: that he deserved enough second chances to have this most important chance. The chance to tell her just how much she deserves.

[bgn846]

Something to Believe In

This little fic is for @ragewerthers I hope you enjoy it!  The prompt changed a bit!  :) 

Link for AO3

SUMMARY: Prompto gets hurt in training and the boys discover he has never taken a potion before.  They need a good distraction to take his mind off the pain.

Prompto looked on in fear as Cor massaged his temples.  “Please don’t make me.” He begged again.

“I would never force you to do something you weren’t comfortable with Prompto but this won’t hurt, I promise.” Cor sighed through a frown.

Sparing a glance down at his ankle his heart rate started to go up again.  Why on Eos had he done that stupid move?  He was still in training; there was time to learn things without hurting himself.  It had to be broken but he refused to let anyone touch it.

“I’m at an impasse Prompto, if you won’t let any of us help you then who should I call?” He asked.

“I have to tell him Specs, he will begin to worry that I don’t like him.” Noct lamented.

“Highness, we have all discussed this already and as I told you Gladio and I are both fine with you asking him.  However if you don’t do something soon I will take control of this situation and ask him myself.”

“No. no. no.  I have to do it, he will freak otherwise.” Noct sputtered as he sat on a barstool watching Ignis prepare dinner.

“He may freak, as you say, no matter who asks him.”

Sighing Noct buried his face in his hands.  “Give me another week to figure something out, kay?”

“One week, Noctis and then I’m intervening.”

Gladio heard his phone ring and he dug it out of his pocket while walking back to his office.  Answering it quickly once he saw the caller id, it was Cor, hopefully everything was alright.

“This is Gladio.” He answered in a rush.

“Are you able to come by the training center, I need you to pick up Prompto.”

“Sure, I can swing by, did something happen?”

“Nothing life threatening, just get here as soon as you can.”

The line disconnected after that and Gladio was left stunned standing in the corridor.  Leave it to Cor to be vague and clear all at the same time.

Bastard.

Breaking out in a run he went straight to the training center.   Prompto had only started basic crownsguard training two weeks earlier.   By all accounts he’d been doing well so this phone call had him a little worried.  

Cor’s waiting outside his office when Gladio rounds the corner.  “You didn’t have to run all the way I told you it wasn’t life threatening.”

“That statement in of itself is not calming Cor, unlike you I haven’t gone to war so things like that don’t help me.”

“Fair enough.” He grumbled as he turned to go back inside the office.  “I can’t seem to make any headway perhaps you could talk with him.”  Cor guested towards where Prompto was laying on the office couch with one foot elevated higher than the other.

Seeing the blonde laying down with a clear look of pain strung across his pale features made Gladio’s heart sink.  “Hey sunshine, what happened?” Prompto didn’t answer but pointed to his ankle instead. “Did you sprain it or break it?” This question unfortunately started the waterworks.

Prompto sucked back a sob and replied through his now streaming tears. “I –I don’t know but I’m afraid to touch it.”        

“Can I take a look?”

“Only if you d--don’t touch it.”

Gladio knelt down and took a look, the ankle in question was clearly broken but it was hard to see much else besides that.  Prompto still had his socks and sneakers on.  “Can I take off your shoe? I can get a better look and then we can use a potion.”

“No!” Prompto shouted.  “I don’t want to use a potion!”

This statement caught Gladio off guard.  Using potions was second nature to him and hearing Prompto outright refuse made him pause. “What don’t you want to use a potion?”

“It’ll hurt and –and what if it doesn’t work and I need to use another one.  What if it makes me lose my foot or something.”  He wailed.

“Prompto potions don’t work like that; you have nothing to be afraid of.” Gladio tried to reassure the distressed blonde. Unfortunately it didn’t work.

Ten minutes later found Prompto being carefully lifted by Gladio bridal style.  Normally the blonde would be far too self-conscious to be caught in such a position.  His pain from the injury was taking precedent and made him forget his insecurities.

“Going to try and see if Ignis and Noct can talk him into taking one?” Cor questioned from the doorway.

“It’s my last option right now.” Gladio sighed.

“Sorry for being such a pain.” Prompto mumbled from where his head was smashed into Gladio’s shoulder.

“Kid you’ll be fine, I’ll see you for training in a few days in a cast or without, either way.” Cor commented with a small smile as they left his office.

“Can I get fired from training?” Prompto asked with a whimper as they headed to Nocts.

“No, listen you’ll be fine, try and relax.”

The trip up to Noct’s citadel apartment only took ten minutes and Prompto was shaking the whole time. Gladio was unsure if the pain was making him shake or just his nerves.  They didn’t talk during the walk and when the door to the apartment came into view he could feel Prompto suck in a breath.

Knocking on the door the shield only had to wait a minute before Ignis answered.  He immediately went into mom mode.  Gladio told him what had happened and Ignis instructed him to sit Prompto on the couch.  A footstool showed up and Prompto’s broken ankle was gently elevated.

“What the hell do you mean you’ve never taken a potion before?” Noct asked in disbelief once they’d all taken up a position near their distressed friend.  

“Noctis, must you really be so tactless.” Ignis retorted from where he was kneeling on the floor examining Prompto’s ankle without touching.

“Sorry guys, I’m just scared I know it’s stupid but I can’t help it.” He confessed with a red face.

“There really is nothing to be afraid of blondie, it won’t hurt I promise.” Gladio offered from the seat next to Prompto.

“Highness?” Ignis interrupted. “I do believe now might be a good time to ask Prompto about that thing we were talking about earlier.”

“Really!? Now?” Noct huffed. “That is tactless!”

“No I think it would do wonders actually, why don’t you try.” Ignis requested again with a glare in his eyes.  This time Noct seemed to pick up on his hidden message.

Ignis’ plan was already working, though Gladio had no clue what they were up to.  He watched as Prompto stopped staring at his busted ankle and looked up at Noct with wide eyes.  The prince was straddling the arm of the couch and seemed to be having an internal debate about something.

He turned a little more and placed a hand on Prompto’s shoulder.  “Prom, so I need to talk to you about something important.”

“Oh gods, please don’t tell me I can’t be in the crownsguard anymore. I’m trying really hard!”  He exclaimed with a frown.

“No!  That’s not it at all!  Prompto--.” The prince was beginning to lose his momentum this was a hard thing to just ask someone.  Ignis saw the lag in conversation and cleared his throat. “Uh – so I wanted to ask you if you might be interested in being in a relationship with me.” Noct stopped talking and Prompto appeared to stop breathing.

“W--what?” He weakly stuttered a second later.

“A romantic relationship with me.”  He paused. “And Gladio.” He paused again for dramatic effect. “And Iggy.” He finished with a determined look.

His last word had covered the sound of the potion bottle breaking over Prompto’s ankle.  The blonde gasped suddenly and without thinking clutched at Noct’s arm.      

Ignis opened his mouth to say something but Prompto cut him off.   “That’s it!  It didn’t hurt at all!  Oh emm gee I’m an idiot.” He cried out as he hid his face with his hands.  “Guys you didn’t need to distract me with that crazy conversation.  Well I guess you did but still that was a bit extreme.” He rambled.

However the mood in the room was still dead serious.  Gladio broke the silence a moment later. “Prompto, Noct wasn’t making that up.  We’ve been dating for almost a year and decided to ask you if you wanted to join in.”    

Prompto truly did shut down this time around.  He kept opening his mouth to try and speak but clearly couldn’t find the words.  After what felt like an eternity he finally uttered one word.  “Seriously?”

“I’ve never been more serious about anything Prompto.” Noct responded in a whisper.

Gladio was starting to worry that they’d broken him for real. Prompto covered his face again and drew his legs up to his chest.  He was crying again.

Shit.

This wasn’t good.  “Prompto, hey it’s okay. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.  We all like you and wanted to offer in case you were interested, we don’t want to upset you.” Gladio said in a pained voice. It was really hard to watch Prompto cry.    

“Huh? What? No, I’m not upset.” Prompto quickly corrected as he lifted his head.  “I think I’m --.” He looked confused for a second.

“Overwhelmed?” Ignis offered.

Nodding and burying his face again he focused on taking deep breaths. “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” He added though it was muffled from his current position.

“So you wanna give it a try?” Noct asked hopeful.

Prompto couldn’t believe the day he was having.  First he screwed up in training and freaked out over taking a potion.  Thinking back on that he cringed, it was really nothing to be scared of.  Just like everyone had said it would be okay.

Second he’d gained three boyfriends in a span of like five minutes.   That was insane.  He’d always dreamed of Noct liking him that way but this was beyond his wildest expectations.  Noct liked him and so did Gladio and Ignis!

Nothing had changed much after their admission to him but as the evening progressed Prompto could see subtle differences.  They hugged a few more times than normal and their causal touches lingered.  Ignis completed dinner without much fuss and afterwards the four of them piled on the sofa in the living room to watch a movie.

Surprisingly Gladio held out his hand first as an invitation.   Prompto accepted since he had been dying to get a cuddle from the man for like ever.  He sank into Gladio’s chest and practically swooned when the big guy wrapped his arms around his waist.

Looking over at Noct he was happy to see Ignis sprawled out on the prince’s lap.  The advisor was busy smashing a pillow around to get it just right.  He caught Prompto looking and flashed him a smile.

“I can’t believe this happened to me.” He whispered mostly to himself.

“Believe it sunshine.” Gladio’s low voice rumbled back in his ear.

“I call first dibs on date night!” Noct announced.

“Oh no, I’ve already claimed that spot.” Ignis murmured sleepily.

“How exactly did you do that?” The prince exclaimed.

“It’s true princess, you went to the bathroom and Iggy asked Prompto. So you don’t got dibs.”

“That is so not fair!” He huffed.

“That highness is what happens when you wait too long to take my advice.” Ignis responded with his refined accent.  “To the victor go the spoils.”