#imagining him making idle small chat with them to pass the time despite... yeah

[telestoapologist]

Oh my god? Did. Did anyone else notice how House Salvation gave the Braytech Security frames “beds” during the ketch escape part of the Seraph Shield mission.... 

[hogarthwrites]

the ballad of samuel drake chapter 2

chapter 1: desperado

chapter 2: we’ve only just begun

pairing: none

genre: fix-it fic (sorta), found family, sibling bonding

warnings: alcohol

words: 2,358

summary:

It's 2017 and Sam's another year older. He did everything he thought he missed out on in the fifteen years he was imprisoned, yet somehow he still felt so empty, so lonely. He doesn't know it yet, but he's found the family he's been looking for all along. The real treasure was the friends we made along the way.

note: 

please enjoy!! <3

2017

Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! La la la la la la!

Sam didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the card Nathan sent him. There was a cat with glasses on the front with the words “So what if it's another birthday? Don't take life so seriously!”

He appreciated it, though. He couldn't remember the last time he got a birthday card, let alone a cake.

Victor got him a simple chocolate cake, just enough for the two of them. He blew out the candles while Nathan and his wife, Elena, celebrated from a computer screen. They had party hats and party blowers and they made fwee fwee noises from their end.

“Alright, tone it down,” Sam chuckled. “Just another year in paradise, huh?”

“What'd you wish for?” Elena asked.

“World peace.”

“Boo. That's a cliche, try again,” Nathan gave a thumbs down.

“If you ask me, Sam should've asked for a partner so he can let me retire in peace,” Victor joked. “Or maybe a romantic partner.”

Despite Victor’s constant inquiries about a special someone, nothing ever lasted long enough for Sam to seriously introduce. He never would admit it out loud or even to himself, but Victor had become an important father figure to him and he was kind of scared to let him down now.

“Hey, I'm getting there, Victor,” Sam narrowed his eyes. “I'm still young.”

“I'm joking, kid,” Victor gave him a pat on the back. “Happy birthday.”

After ending the call with Nathan and Elena, they retired to the porch to smoke and share a bottle of whiskey that Chloe sent over.

Hey, Sam, here's some alcohol so you can forget how old you're getting.

Your good friend, Chloe (and Nadine)

“We got some more leads on the Honjo Masamune,” Victor lit his cigar.

“Does that mean we're going to Japan?”

“It sure does,” Victor nodded. “I'll look for places we can stay at and we can leave in a day or two.

“Thanks, Victor,” Sam softly said.

“Nothing I haven't done before. Don't worry.”

“Alright.”

Sam wanted to thank him for taking Nathan in and for being so patient with his stubborn ass. Victor wasn't just a friend and a business partner to them anymore. He was family. However, Sam didn't say anything. Was it weird to thank someone for just being there?

Victor wasn’t much of a talker and for the most part, it was Sam who would go on and on about random historical facts and theories. The older man would sit back with his cigar and whiskey, listening intently and chuckling. He went to bed just before midnight, leaving Sam to his own thoughts and a half a bottle of whiskey which he brought into the warmth of the living room.

He wasn’t drunk just yet, and he looked through Victor’s collection of records, impressed with the selection. He decided on a Steve Miller Band record, precariously putting it on the turntable. It's been a while, but he preferred analog technology. Sam had a hard time with new technology, always getting frustrated with what Chloe called streaming services.

“You can listen to anything , Sam,” she said, holding up her phone.

“Oh yeah? Can it play Depeche Mode?”

Chloe didn’t say anything, typing away on her phone. Soon World in my Eyes started playing.

“Huh,” Sam simply nodded.

She helped him make a whole playlist, compiling all the songs he asked for, but when he was alone, he didn’t know how to work it. Not to mention, the constant ads pissed him off. No way he was going to pay $9.99 a month to listen to music.

Sam poured himself another drink and settled on the sofa, lighting up another cigarette. Forty-seven. He couldn’t believe it. He went into that infernal place at a mere twenty-eight and even then, he felt twenty-eight was old, but he came out of prison in his forties.

For a while, looking at himself in the mirror was unbearable. He looked so worn out, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, his hair greying out. He didn’t even want to talk about his hairline.

Time keeps on slippin’, slippin’, slippin’ into the future...

“ Fuck. How did I get so old?” Sam downed his whiskey and poured himself another one.

He never imagined what he’d be doing at this age. Then again, he never imagined he’d spend his entire thirties stuck in prison. He was usually an optimist, but there were times he thought that was it; he was going to grow old in prison and he was going to eventually die there.

Sam was alive somehow and he found the treasure his mother obsessed over until her death. He lived long enough to see his baby brother thrive and be a much better person than him, but the empty feeling after the Libertalia thing persisted. Wasn’t that what he wanted? To find a long lost city and treasure with Nathan? He poured himself another drink, then another.

He stood up to change the record. The Eagles looked good. The room spun a little by his fourth drink and he couldn’t make out what the words in the song were saying anymore. Something about tequila or sunrise, he didn’t know anymore.

“Who would ever love a worthless thief?” He muttered as he collapsed on the couch.

Sam’s head was pounding when he woke up the next morning. Victor was in the kitchen blending something.

“Jesus,” Sam groaned. “Can you cut that out? It’s so goddamn loud.”

“You seriously drank through that bottle by yourself last night, Sam?” Victor gave him a cup of something green and oozy. “I see you found your way through my records too.”

Sam looked at the records littered on the floor by the turntable. When did he do that?

“I’ll clean it up,” he muttered.

“Try to sober up,” Victor picked up the empty whiskey bottle. “Nate and Elena are coming over.”

“Huh? What for?”

“Beats me.”

“Fuck,” Sam winced as the ice cold water from the shower hit his body, but he didn’t change it. He took an Advil and hopped in, hoping his headache would subside somehow but at least the cold woke him up.

Sometimes he was bored when he wasn’t stuck in a jungle or being chased by a bunch of dangerous, armed men. He didn’t know what normalcy was supposed to be and it made him antsy.

He didn’t know how long he stood in there after soaping up and washing his hair. Time was a blur and his mind went from one thing to another.

The doorbell rang and he heard Nathan and Elena’s voices as Victor greeted them. He sighed and turned off the shower.

“There he is!” Nathan gave him a hug. “You don’t look a day over forty-seven.”

“You little punk,” Sam held him in a choke hold and gave him a noogie, forever grateful for the advantage his height always gave him over his little brother.

“Not the hair!” Nathan broke free.

“Boys, behave!” Elena pulled her husband away before giving Sam a small embrace. “Hey, Sam. Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, little sis,” he smiled.

“Here, I got this for you,” she handed him a neatly wrapped present.

“Gee, a present for me? Can I open it?” When she nodded, Sam tore it open and inside was a DVD copy of Treasure Planet . “Oh, what’s this?”

“Nate said you loved Treasure Island , so I thought I’d get you the more modern retelling of it. It has farting aliens.”

“Farting aliens. Right up my alley,” Sam laughed. “Thanks, ‘Lena. I appreciate it.”

“We’ll watch this later,” Nathan took the DVD from Sam and placed it on the coffee table. “For now, I’m going to take you out for your birthday.”

“Where are we going?” Sam asked as Nathan basically shoved his jacket at him.

“You’ll see.”

Sam looked at Elena and Victor for any clue or hints, but Victor simply walked away while Elena shrugged.

“I guess I’m getting kidnapped,” he mumbled as he put his jacket on.

“You boys take care now!” Victor called out as they left.

Nathan wanted to watch a movie and to Sam’s massive delight, It was in theatres. He remembered taking him to see the 1990 version, flirting his way with the ticket seller to let his fourteen year old brother into the PG-16 film.

After much persuasion, he got his little brother to get tickets for It instead of The Greatest Showman .

“I hate you so much,” Nathan mumbled as Sam ushered him into the theatre.

After the movie, they went to a diner to eat large piles of pancakes, even having a contest of who can eat their pancake tower the fastest. Sam won, giving Nathan a shit-eating grin as he watched him struggle with the last few bites.

“How do you do that?” Nathan frowned. “I swear, you have the metabolism of a teenage boy.”

“It’s called grit, little brother. Don’t worry, when you’re all grown up, you’ll learn to have it too.”

“Whatever,” Nathan chuckled. “So how’d you like our boys day out?”

“It was nice. Don’t think we’ve properly bonded since the whole Libertalia thing.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that was the best time or place to reconnect, especially with the whole Rafe thing and…”

“The lie,” Sam looked down, guilty. “Hey, I’m really sorry about that.”

“I’m not gonna lie, Sam, that was a jackass move,” Nathan shook his head. “I shouldn’t even forgive you, but you’re my brother. You’ve always had my back.”

“I just really feel bad about getting ‘Lena and Victor into that mess.”

“That’s on me. What kind of idiot lies to his wife?”

“Well,” Sam shrugged. “I guess being a jackass runs in the family, huh?”

“I guess so,” Nathan laughed.

“Hey, at least we aren’t Dad.”

“At least we aren’t Dad.”

Nathan’s phone beeped and he took a minute to reply to whoever texted him. Sam looked around the old diner, taking in the atmosphere and the idle chit chat of other customers. A pretty waitress passed and she sweetly smiled at him.

“Alright, let’s head back,” Nathan paid for the bill.

The sun was setting when they got back to Victor’s mid-century style home, but the lights were all turned off inside. Sam suspiciously looked around, taking note of the extra car parked on the driveway that wasn’t his or Victor’s.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked as he got out of the car. “Why are all the lights out? Don’t tell me you planned a surprise party.”

“A surprise party? Don’t be silly, Sam. Sully’s probably napping,” Nathan shrugged.

“Elena too?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, did I tell you she’s pregnant?” Nathan was walking backwards towards the front door. "Pregnant women sleep a lot I heard."

“She’s what? ”

“Oh yeah, we just found out the other day.”

Sam watched as Nathan fumbled for his copy of the keys and opened the door, where it was dark inside.

“Ladies first,” Nathan held it open.

“I don’t trust any of this,” Sam muttered but went inside anyway. The first thing he saw was a rather large cake sitting on the coffee table, its candles lighting up the room. “Wha…?”

“Happy birthday!”

The light turned on and there was a small crowd in the living room that was decked out in balloons and party streamers. Sam didn’t know how to respond as all eyes were on him.

Fwee fwee! Chloe, Nadine, and Charlie blew on their party blowers and he felt Nathan place a party hat on his head.

“What’s all this?” He looked around.

“A birthday party for you, duh ,” Chloe replied.

He was a bit overwhelmed, but there was a warm feeling in his chest as he was led to the cake and he blew out all the candles. This time, he actually made a wish.

“That’s not all,” Elena gestured to him and he followed her to the backyard, where a trampoline stood.

“No fucking way,” Sam laughed. “A trampoline?”

“Nate wanted it too,” she shrugged. “He wouldn’t shut up about it on the plane back from Madagascar.”

“You’re the best sister-in-law,” he nudged her. “Congrats on the kid, by the way.”

“He already told you?” Her jaw dropped. “Don’t tell anyone else, I’m waiting for the right time.”

“I promise,” Sam crossed his heart.

The dining table was laid out with piles of food. Nathan had called in all the guests so that they could all find a seat with Sam sitting at the head of the table.

“You really went all out, huh?” He leaned over to Nathan, whose mouth was full of moussaka.

“The dinner was what I had in mind,” Nathan downed his drink. “Elena wanted to throw you a surprise party and Sully agreed.”

Sam laughed. “Thanks. I like this.”

“It’s the best I can do after all you’ve done for me growing up.”

“I’ll make it up to you and Elena, I promise.”

Nathan shook his head. “It’s just a party, Sam. Relax. Have fun.”

After dinner, they sat around the living room, where they all passed Sam presents. Nathan gave him a Nerf gun, from Victor a box of Cuban cigars, from Chloe some climbing rope, from Nadine a pack of underwear, and from Charlie the Ice Genie (he insisted they were practical because he saw an infomercial of it).

Music blared, drinks flowed, and at some point, a joint was being passed around (Nathan and Elena abstained, preferring to drink juice together and retire early for the night). For that moment, Sam let go of his anxieties of being a year older. He was in a safe, comfortable place that he knew would be constant, with people who were constant.

For the first time, he felt like he had a family again. When everyone had fallen asleep in the early hours of the morning, Sam took one of his mother’s unfinished journals and sat on the roof. With a cigarette in one hand, he wrote in the journal, deciding to continue living for her.

We must go on, because we can’t turn back.

Epilogue:

Sam watched Treasure Planet on his own and he liked it a lot.

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 48: Hᴇᴀʀᴛs Tʀᴜᴇ Dᴇsɪʀᴇ

Masterlist

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for.

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Forty-Eight

It took a couple of days for things to return to normal in camp and for my hickies to heal enough to show my face without feeling constantly self conscious. Knox made a few offhand comments about Bellamy during our shifts and I apologised for his recent intimidating behaviour. I avoided our friends for fear of any snide comments and Bellamy slipped back into his strangely inconsistent habits. 

After my shift in the kitchens, I wandered across the courtyard but my attention was caught by the sound of a nearby conversation. I paused in place to witness Mel chatting to Bellamy again and I recognised that neither of them had noticed me from the angle that I was standing in. She had her hand placed comfortably on his forearm and they were both laughing in a relaxed state. My stomach flipped with annoyance, despite my best efforts to deny it and I felt my jaw clench as I observed her making doe eyes at him. I tried to remind myself that he chose to take me back to his room every night and of all the small, attentive acts that he did daily to make my heart flutter, but they weren’t enough to remove the uneasy feeling in my chest. I rolled my eyes and dragged myself away to prevent my mind from torturing me any further. 

I found a spot near the hustle of the mechanical building to settle and work through the notes that I’d taken from my lessons with Octavia. Recently I felt that I was finally starting to grasp some parts of Trig, but it required consistent work to maintain it in my head and I had discovered that the rhythmic noises of tools helped me to focus. I heard footsteps approaching but kept my eyes trained on my papers in the hope that whoever it was would take the hint to leave me alone.

“There you are Trouble.” I recognised the gruff tone of Bellamy’s voice immediately and glanced up to find him smiling at me warmly. “Kane’s called a meeting to discuss more trips to Mount Weather for supplies, thought you’d want to know.” He stated and I raised my brows in interest. “Yeah, hopefully it won’t drag on for hours again, but if it does I’ll see you back at the room?” He added with a disinterested groan and I sympathised with his responsibility to attend.

“Damn, looks like I’ll have to tuck myself in.” I crooned with a playful expression and he chuckled lightly in a way that I adored the sound of.

“Where have you been all day anyway? I didn’t see you leave your shift.” He questioned and I was surprised that he’d even noticed the slight change in my routine. Most days lately we passed each other in camp as I moved from one commitment to the other and he’d usually throw me a cheeky wink or even slyly make an inappropriate comment if he got close enough.

“Oh, just thought I’d get some study time in.” I confirmed but he simply raised a brow at me suspiciously. “I did pass you in the courtyard earlier, but you were chatting to Mel. I thought I’d give you guys a chance to catch up.” I commented in what I hoped sounded like an idle manner and he shifted on the spot. 

“Ah, yeah she caught me for a while there.” He remarked and I concentrated heavily on maintaining a carefree posture. “She’s a nice girl, just very young. I think she’s still got a lot of training to do before I’d take her out as part of the guard.” He thought aloud and I nodded as I stared at my papers avoidantly.

“Hmm, she’ll be disappointed to be left behind. Be careful with that one.” I muttered absent mindedly and my stomach flipped as soon as the words left my mouth. He furrowed his brows at me and I cleared my throat to give myself a moment to consider my words. “Just...don’t lead her on, like you said, she’s young.” I advised with a shrug and he widened his eyes at me.

“Seriously Indie?” He drawled and I held my hands out defensively. “Look, I saved her life when she crashed to Earth, so she looks up to me. She’s another student for me to train, that’s all.” He detailed with a disbelieving tone to his voice, causing me to sigh.

“Are you sure that she knows that?” I asked as I peeked up at him and he analysed me with a slight smirk in the corner of his lips. Already, I regretted initiating this conversation and I found it difficult to discuss whilst still maintaining the casual attitude that I’d been insistent on since we started sleeping together.

“Are you jealous?” He suggested in a low growl and I scoffed in annoyance. “I did offer to train you, it’s not too late to switch classes. You can be my teacher’s pet.” He winked and I shook my head in disapproval at his continued teasing.

“No, I’m not jealous, you can do whatever you want. I’m just offering you some advice; let her down lightly so you don’t break a young girl's heart, take it or leave it.” I explained with a frustration that was evident as I shot to my feet and began to gather my things.

“It’s not like that.” He sighed in a defensive manner and I paused in place to glance at him with exasperation.

“I’m telling you as a woman what I saw in her, she wants it. You used to be excellent at recognising that. But whatever you say Bel.” I chuckled bitterly as I threw him one last look. “I’ll see you after your meeting.” I stated as I placed a chaste kiss on his cheek and left him rooted to the spot in confusion.

For a while, I managed to study in peace in the back of the mechanical building, until I was kicked out by people who needed to use the room. It was almost impossible to concentrate with the building frustration in my mind and I struggled to channel the feeling into anything beneficial. After several attempts to find something to distract myself, I received a message from Raven requesting my assistance with something.

“Hey! Octavia said you were trying to build muscle, right?” She spoke in a rushed way as she opened the door to allow me into her workshop and pulled me inside. I nodded hesitantly and she guided me to a metal structure that made absolutely no sense to me, beside the familiar Rover we’d just recovered. “Awesome, I have a proposal that will be mutually beneficial in that case. I need to install some upgrades but I can’t get around that easily with my bitch of a leg. Can you lift shit for me?” She asked and I noticed the slightest hint of vulnerability in her eyes. It was the first time that she had requested assistance with her injury from me and it felt strange to address the thing that we’d fallen into a routine of pretending hadn’t changed. I knew that admitting she needed help was practically agonising to Raven and felt honoured that she was able to confide in me.

“Of course, but you need to remember that I am, in fact, an idiot. So I’ll need very specific instructions on what you want me to do.” I remarked with a playful expression and was glad to notice that her shoulders visibly relaxed. We fell into an easy companionship as she worked whilst I strained to hold things in place and chatted in the same comfortable way that we always had.

“So, what do you think will come of this big leader meeting your man’s in?” She called from under the car and I sighed thoughtfully. I couldn’t imagine anything worse than sitting in a room full of self important people discussing every minor decision for our camp. It seemed simpler in the days at the dropship, where if something needed to be done we simply took action. I was unsure if the introduction of laws and politics was as beneficial as the leadership believed.

“I don’t know, bunch of political nonsense. I bet Bellamy’s struggling to even stay awake in there.” I commented lightly, imagining him dozing off at the end of the table and I heard Raven hum in agreement.

“Well, looks like he had some comfort before he went in.” She stated in a voice that I recognised well as bait and so I held my tongue. When I didn’t answer, she slid out from the car to examine me in annoyance. “I caught Mel flirting with him pretty hard outside the meeting room. She’s getting her claws right in.” She spat before she got to her feet and dusted herself off. The work space was so large that our voices echoed around it and I was glad that it was just the two of us here with the sharpness of her words.

“Ugh, that poor girl.” I groaned and Raven whipped around to face me as if I’d just grown another head. “I told him to let her down gently before she gets her feelings hurt.” I revealed as I rubbed my forehead in stress and she dropped into a seat to examine me with a riveted interest.

“And? What did he say?” She breathed with a fire burning in her eyes and I couldn’t help a slight snigger at the ridiculous reaction. Recently, it felt as if the budding romance between Bellamy and I was her favourite topic and although I appreciated her support, I couldn’t help finding her enthusiasm bizarre at times.

“He doesn’t think she’s flirting. He says she just looks up to him like the others, or she’s just friendly because she’s grateful to him.” I sighed as I settled into a seat opposite her and she threw her hands up in exaggeration. “I’ve never known him to be so blind to a girl's interest before.” I muttered with a groan and I tried to force the bitter feelings to the back of my mind before they could wander out of my mouth.

“That’s because he only has eyes for you.” She crooned in a mocking tone as she batted her lashes at me and I reached out to slap her playfully on the arm. “Doesn’t it bug you? Seriously, I’m worried. I know you were afraid before all this almost dying stuff, about him losing interest? I don’t want you to be pushed to the point of a nervous breakdown by this random chick.” She dropped her voice to one of genuine concern and I smiled warmly at her ill guided compassion. 

“Before everything went down, yes I was. But I already had my nervous breakdown Raven, I’m tapped. Seriously, thinking that you’ll never see someone again kind of changes your priorities.” I explained as she watched me with blatant sympathy. “The way I see it now, Bellamy will do whatever it is that he wants to do. If he wants to fuck some other girl, he’ll do it whether I worry about it or not, so I’m not gonna worry about it. I’m just gonna enjoy whatever we have for as long as it lasts, cause I don’t want to waste a single second of it.” I elaborated and she scoffed as she viewed me with a sense of utter disbelief.

“You’re telling me that you’re just switching your ‘give a shit’ off?” She breathed as she crossed her arms and I sighed as I tried to think of a better way to explain my stance. I shuffled on my seat and rubbed at my temples as she observed my expectantly.

“I’m not switching it off. It was only weeks ago that I thought he was dead and I spent almost all of my time crying.” I revealed and she softened her face. “I reflected a lot on everything I’d learned and I know that Bellamy is the kind of guy who likes the chase. From what I’ve seen, he’s not big on the whole commitment thing and I don’t need it. I’m all too aware that things can change in a heartbeat and honestly, I’m just happy every time that he comes back from a mission alive. I’m glad that I get the chance to see that smile that makes my knees go weak and my heart beat so fast that I think it might explode.” I confessed and Raven smiled smugly.

“Girl, you’ve got it bad!” She laughed and I felt as if I had opened a door that I couldn’t close. The relief of being honest with her was so addictive that the words just continued to flow out of my mouth and the memory of him and Mel talking filled my mind, causing a surge of bitterness.

“I know! God I know.” I breathed as I ran my hands through my hair in a gesture of stress. “Who am I kidding with this whole chilled out act? Part of me wants to find that girl and go full grounder on her ass, tell her that if she even thinks about touching Bellamy I’ll beat her face in.” I growled and Raven whooped in support of this idea. “On the inside, even thinking about him with anyone else kills me, but then I remember how fucking grateful I am that he’s alive and I realise that I’d suffer through anything if it meant that he was happy.” I clarified and she pursed her lips at me with enjoyment.

“I’m pretty confident that he feels the same.” She commented and although I noticed that she didn’t seem to be smiling directly at me, I was too deep in thought to question it. She opened her mouth to speak again but I couldn’t stop the flow of feelings that I needed to speak aloud.

“Maybe, I guess only time will tell. For now, all I know is that I can barely think straight every time he compliments me, or does that thing where he shakes his head and looks at the ground when he laughs. You know, I dream about him, his freckles, the way his eyes glisten when he smiles, or how he runs his hand through his hair when he’s concentrating. I thought that after a while things would calm down, but Raven, every kiss makes my head spin like the first.” I rambled in an emotion charged blur. She watched me with a steadily growing satisfaction as I bared my soul to her and I only paused to sigh. “I’m pretty prepared for the idea that he doesn’t feel the same way, but that's okay. Because if I can just keep him in my life for as long as humanly possible, I’m willing to accept that.” I divulged with a final deep breath as I dropped my shoulders dramatically and finally felt a sense of peace that I hadn’t realised I sorely needed.

“You know, I really think you’d be surprised by how wrong you are about that.” She stated calmly despite an excitement shining in her eyes and I furrowed my brows at her in confusion.

“How can you be so sure?” I enquired with a heavy feeling of insecurity and a delighted smile spread across her lips at my question.

“Oh, just the little fact that he’s standing right behind you and he looks like he’s just won the jackpot, not running for the hills.” She revealed with a blatant enjoyment and I felt my face drop to one of pure horror. I prayed with all of my might that she was simply playing a cruel prank. I was too mortified to turn around to investigate and before I could muster up the courage, I heard a deep voice clear their throat behind me. I felt like my stomach was about to drop out of my body as I closed my eyes in a grimace and heard Raven stand. “I’ll leave you two to talk.” She commented calmly.

I remained frozen on the spot with my eyes firmly closed in an effort to shield myself from the reality of my mistake and heard Bellamy carefully approaching to shatter the hopes of my ‘I can't see you, you can’t see me’ logic. There was a feeling of dread that crept down my spine as I sensed his gaze burning into me and I took a deep breath before forcing myself to look at him. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and exhilaration, and I gulped nervously whilst my mind desperately strained for something to say. I fiddled with the zip on my jacket and my skin burned with humiliation.

“H-how much of that did you hear?” I stuttered as I peeked at him and squirmed in anticipation. My words repeated in my mind and as I reviewed all the things that he’d potentially overhead that I would rather chop off a limb than say to him, I felt like my heart might stop.

“All of it.” He breathed with a sly smile and I felt my heart skip a beat as I groaned. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me and thought that I would give anything for the chance to take it all back. Terror flooded my veins at the idea that the blissful bubble we’d existed in until now could be about to burst and I steeled myself for the potential heartbreak.

“Is there...any chance that you can just forget that you heard any of it?” I suggested with shaking hands and he did the exact thing that I’d just proclaimed my love for: chuckled lightly as he shook his head and gradually returned his gaze to me with a smile that made my head spin. “Cool, perfect. Well, if you didn’t specifically need me for anything, I’m gonna go blow my brains out.” I remarked with my hands in my pockets and I avoided meeting his eyes as I moved to stride away. I only managed a single step before he caught my arm and pulled me back to face him.

“Indie, don’t worry about it, it’s okay.” He stated as he studied me with an inscrutable expression and I was stressed by the action of locking eyes with him. I sighed as I shuffled on the spot and he reached out to place his hands on my shoulders. I couldn’t tell if he did this more as an act of comfort, or to prevent me from bolting, or maybe a combination of both. “You don’t have to be embarrassed with me. Was all that true?” He probed as he examined my face and I nodded reluctantly. “Why didn’t you say something sooner if it was bothering you so much?” He interrogated and I shrugged avoidantly.

“I don’t know, it seemed dumb.” I grumbled as I tried to push aside the urge to escape. I cleared my throat and decided that if we were going to have this conversation, I may as well say what I needed. “Why weren’t you just honest about Knox?” I enquired and Bellamy shrugged in defeat. This relieved some of the tension in the air as we acknowledged that we’d both played a part in creating this situation with our ridiculous behaviours and for a moment I broke into a smile as I viewed him. 

“You know that you don’t have to worry about me with Mel, or anyone else, right?” He suggested as I fixed him with a baffled expression. “I don’t need anything else when I have everything I want with you.” He admitted with a genuine tone and I scoffed in disbelief. He took my face in his hands to force me to meet his eyes and I was surprised by the intensity of his gaze. “I’m serious. You’re beautiful, funny, smart. You give me advice when I need it and you keep me going. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He confessed and I stared back at him with wide eyes. “I know you had a hard time in Mount Weather, Love, but you’re forgetting that whilst you were there, I lost you too. You're not the only one who had a reality check. I’ve had plenty of time to think and finally getting you back has made me realise that I don’t ever want to lose you again, not to anything.” He paused to bite his lip and I noticed a hint of vulnerability that he tried to conceal. “You’re my girl, I don’t want anyone to question that anymore, especially not you.” He emphasised and I felt a smile breaking through my concern.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend, Bellamy Blake?” I crooned with a warmth spreading in my chest as the reality of his words struck me. He tilted his head closer and I bit my lip with a rush of excitement.

“I’m not asking.” He drawled before he leaned in to finally kiss me. The moment that his lips touched mine, I felt a sense of relief and there was a peace that I had craved for longer than I had realised. Thanks to Raven’s gamble, I had security at last.

***

The tension that had been hanging over us completely dissipated over the past few weeks and although we’d been too busy to see much of each other, it didn’t cause any stress now that we knew where we stood. Bellamy had received a whole new batch of volunteers for the guard, which translated into far more frequent shifts for him with the recruits and my training with Octavia had ramped up a notch now that she was starting to see progress. Monty had somehow convinced Jasper to start taking some of his shifts back in mechanical, which was a relief as Monty was looking rather bedraggled recently. 

I’d used my new additional free time to either work on building muscle, or studying Trig. I was able to hold almost entire conversations in it now and although I still made the occasional mistake or found worlds that I hadn’t learned, I was proud of the new skill. It was a surprise to discover that Lincoln was slightly chattier in his native tongue and I’d come to appreciate our conversations more due to their infrequency. We bonded mostly over a joint protectiveness of Octavia, but I also enjoyed the quiet wisdom about him that I witnessed more now that he had moved into Arkadia. It was strange to see him living amongst us after our violent beginnings, but he seemed to be adapting well and fell into communicating with other campers far better than I ever would have expected. I was studying in the courtyard of camp, enjoying the cool spring sunshine when Monty rushed over.

“Hey Indie, have you seen Jasper?” He queried with blatant fear filling his face and something about his manner immediately put me on edge.

“No, I’m sorry.” I answered and he hissed in response. “I thought he was doing a shift today? Is everything okay?” I investigated as he shuffled on the spot with distress and I analysed him worriedly.

“He was, he didn’t turn up and I’ve only just heard. No one’s seen him all day and it’s been hours since he left dorms.” He confirmed with his brows deeply furrowed and I quickly got to my feet to assist.

“You want me to take this to Bel, get a search party out or are we keeping this on the down low?” I breathed as I felt his panic bleeding into me and my heart hammered in my chest.

“Let’s just keep it between us for now, I don’t want to get Jasper in trouble.” He muttered and I nodded obediently.

“Alright, let’s split up and meet back here if you can’t find him.” I suggested and we rushed apart in search of him.

I checked anywhere that I thought Jasper was likely to attend for fun first, in the vain hope that he may finally have felt like enjoying himself. When that failed, I had to acknowledge the painful thought that he may have gone somewhere quiet to harm himself and I felt an overpowering anxiety building in me as I searched the secluded areas where I thought it would be easiest to do this. I passed Monty in the mechanical building as we both seemed to have the same idea to investigate the unused rooms and abandoned corners. 

In one of the final rooms, I turned to leave when I noticed a boot out of the corner of my eye. I crouched down to examine it and discovered Jasper passed out under a table. I gasped as I neared him in terror and immediately checked for any sign of a pulse. An intense wave of relief washed over me as I confirmed that he was alive and I leaned closer to the door to call out.

“Monty! In here!” I cried, before returning to Jasper to pull him across my lap. I shook him until he responded as I became fearful that he could have overdosed and he groaned dramatically but didn’t seem to be able to wake. Monty stumbled into the room in a fluster and I smiled up at him. “I’ve got him.” I confirmed but Monty could clearly see the concern in my eyes as he glanced between me and Jasper, whose head flopped back in my arms.

“Ugh, he’s tanked.” Monty stated and as I turned to view him doubtfully, I noticed the empty flask further under the desk. “I’d recognise that look on him anywhere. Damn it, Jasper.” He growled with an evident frustration and I sighed in disappointment as I scooped up the evidence to hide in my pocket. “Can you help me get him back to dorms?” Monty asked with an embarrassed expression and I nodded in understanding.

“Of course, my love.” I answered as I got to my feet and we managed to hoist him between us with difficulty. He was barely conscious enough to manage to walk with some stern encouragement and his arms over our shoulders to keep him upright.

“You’re a mess, dude.” Monty scolded, but Jasper only managed an offended groan in response. Monty rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m sorry about this Indie.” He mumbled awkwardly.

“Hey, it’s fine. Family isn’t all sunshine and rainbows, right?” I smiled encouragingly at him and he made his best effort to return it. 

[queen-of-the-avengers]

You’ve Already Won

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x Reader, other mcu cast members

Word Count: 2,654

Warnings: just fluff

Summary: You’ve never been kissed under the mistletoe, and Tom wants to change that.

Author’s Note: If you have any requests, please send them in! This is unbeta’d and any and all mistakes are all on me.

this is late, but it’s for my 25 days of christmas rpf with the prompt: “I’ve never kissed anyone underneath the mistletoe before”

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The whole time you’ve been at this early Christmas party, you’ve been listening to Chris Hemsworth tell his story about what he did right before coming to this party. He loves to tell stories, especially when they involve the ocean or surfing.

“So there’s this big wave, right? I see it coming, and I’m getting ready to ride that shit like a pro. Liam is right behind me, and we know we’re going to crush it like all the other ones before. The wave gets to us, and we’re surfing, but Liam collides into me, and we both go down. Best wave I’ve ever seen, and he ruins it,” Chris laughs, and a round of laughter follows him.

This is the chillest Christmas party you’ve ever been to. Marvel likes to throw them every year, but this is the best one so far. What makes it the best is Tom Hiddleston. He wasn’t able to make it last year which put you in a bit of a funk. Everyone could tell you were sad about something, and even though you didn’t tell them why, they knew it was because of him.

Tom’s been your crush ever since you starred next to him on Thor. Initially, your role was supposed to be Thor’s girlfriend, but Natalie Portman got that part. Despite that minor setback, you played Sif’s older sister that didn’t have any interest in nothing but Asgard. It was the perfect role for Tom’s mischievous character. You two work so well that you’re going to be in his Disney Plus series. The production hasn’t started yet, but you’re looking forward to it.

There’s something about Tom that you’ve fallen for, and it’s hard to pick just one quality. He’s sweet, polite, such a good listener, and even if he isn’t interested in the things you love, he’ll listen to every word you have to say. There is no one else in the world like him, and if you don’t snag him up soon, some other lucky lady will. It’s hard to talk to a man who looks and acts like him, which is why you didn’t come clean yet. He makes you blush uncontrollably, gives you a nervous stutter, and makes your heart pound so loud that you’re shocked he doesn’t hear it. You don’t know exactly what you mean to him or how he feels about you since he’s a difficult person to read. There’s a reason he doesn’t play at the weekly poker game. He’ll win every time whether he has a good hand or not.

Everyone on set knows you like him just as much as he likes you. He has such a huge crush on the woman who makes him want to break his poker face, that scrambles his brain to mush, and that makes him see double. He’s so excited to work with you on the 10-episode series, but he’s nervous as hell to do it. Everyone can see just how much you two mean to one another, and everyone has a bet to see how long it takes until one of you caves and confesses. Half the cast thinks Tom will, while the other half thinks you’ll break first. They want to keep this process as natural as possible even if it’s agonizing to watch.

Chris’ story is really interesting, but you can’t focus on it. If you even look at him, you’ll feel holes start to burn through your skull from Tom’s eyes. Whenever you look over at him, he quickly looks away as if he’s scared to catch your gaze. Once you have your eyes set on him, you’ll stare until he tries to look at you. Robert Downey Jr sees what’s going on, and he has to resist the eye roll that threatens to come out.

“You’ll never believe what just happened,” Scarlet groans as she approaches the group.

She plops down next to you on the couch with a sigh.

“What happened?” Elizabeth asks as she sips her drink.

“I almost got caught underneath the mistletoe by Slippery Sloan,” she shudders. Sloan is a man who works on the set designs that has an unbelievable amount of saliva in his mouth. Whenever he talks, and you’re close enough, you’ll get the weather sprayed on you. You can only imagine the kind of kiss he gives.

“Oh you poor thing,” you groan.

“Yeah, I ducked away just in time.”

“I remember one time I tried to get this girl to kiss me underneath the mistletoe,” Robert explains. “I tried like ten times, and I ended up kissing her sister.”

“Aren’t you married to the sister?” Chris Hemsworth laughs.

“Yeah, don’t tell my wife,” he smiles widely.

“That’s better than having some man who’s wasted shove his tongue down my throat,” Elizabeth shudders. “I swear I can still taste the alcohol.”

“What about you Tom? What’s your mistletoe horror story?” Scarlet asks.

“I don’t have one. I’ve always been very polite about it. I usually kiss the cheeks anyway. I don’t like to use silly Christmas games for unwanted kisses.”

“Boo!” Elizabeth, Scarlet, and Robert chorus playfully together.

It’s kind of sweet that Tom goes for the cheeks. It makes you love him even more than you already do.

“What about you, Y/N? Anything more horrifying than politeness?” Robert teases.

“I already went. Chris, what about you?” you dodge the question.

“No, you didn’t! You’re hiding something! What was so bad?” Scarlet gasps.

“I’ve never been kissed under the mistletoe before,” you mutter into your red cup.

“What?”

“I’m never been kissed under the mistletoe before, okay?” you sigh.

“How have you never been kissed? You’re hot!” Elizabeth gasps.

You refuse to meet anyone’s eyes, but you could have sworn you saw Tom’s body stiffen at her words.

“I don’t know. I just never got the opportunity. Sounds like I dodged a bullet based on the stories I’ve heard tonight,” you chuckle.

“There are bad stories, sure, but there are so many good ones. I can give you a bunch if you’d like,” Robert chimes in.

“No, thank you. I can imagine it.”

The conversation goes back to idle chit-chat and small talk, and before you know it, everyone has already moved on from you; all except one. Tom. While he doesn’t want to push you into something that you don’t want to do, he is determined to be your first mistletoe kiss.

Tom wanted to see if you could try and give you a kiss to remember at the party. There’s already mistletoe here, so he gets up with one thing on his mind: get you into the kitchen. On his way to the kitchen, he snatches the mistletoe hanging above one of the door frames. He tapes it to the entrance of the kitchen and stands right next to it. Everyone looks like they are either too drunk to walk, playing beer pong, or in deep conversation to want another drink.

“Y/N, can you help me with these drinks?” Tom calls out for you.

“Sure!” you exclaim and get up.

You’re glad to get away from Elizabeth in Scarlet‘s conversation about which of your coworkers at the hottest. As much as you think Evans and Hemsworth are attractive, there’s only one man you have your eyes on.

The game of beer pong is in high gear, and as you pass by there, Chris Pratt called you over with a request only you can fulfill.

“Hey, Y/N, Zoe thinks you’re not the champ!”

“Oh, you’re sadly mistaken,” you smile and make a small detour. Keren is standing on the sidelines watching the game, and because you promised Tom you’d help him with the drinks, you direct your next question to her. “Hey, Karen, Tom needs help with the drinks. Can you take care of that for me?”

“You got it!” she gives you a thumbs up.

Tom overhears what occurred, and before Karen could walk into the kitchen, he thinks the mistletoe off the doorway at the last minute.

“You need help with the drinks?” she asks.

“Yeah, over here,” Tom lies off the top of his head.

Through the cracks of the kitchen door, he sees you toss a ping pong ball expertly into the last red cup on the table. A round of applause and cheers break out. The smile on your face is huge as Zoe drinks from the cup. One minor setback isn’t going to discourage him. If he can’t get you underneath the mistletoe this time, he’ll make sure it happens the next time.

He’s not giving up.

The next opportunity Tom’s got is a few days later. He’s sitting in his makeup chair since he’s in the middle of getting dressed as Loki. His makeup artist had to run out to get some more latex and glue since Keren and Zoe took used most of it. He’s scrolling through his phone when he hears your infectious laughter filter through the hallway, and without even thinking, he reaches for his duffel bag.

He won’t admit it to anyone, but he stole one of the mistletoes from the Christmas party. He’s been waiting for the opportunity to get you under it all this time. The door to the makeup room is slightly ajar, and he scrambles out of his chair before making his way to the door.

“Y/N, can you come here and help me? My wig is going to fall off,” he calls for you.

“Sure!” you answer.

You head towards the room he’s in, and he grips the plant eagerly.

“I got this, Y/N,” another makeup artist who just so happens to be passing by says to you. “I think Holland got himself stuck in his costume again. I was going to do it, but wigs are my forte.”

“Of course he did,” you giggle. “I swear, who let that kid be Spiderman?”

You immediately turn around and leave the building to head over to where the younger Tom was stationed. The older Tom sighs and rushes back over to his chair. When he passes by his bag, he tosses the plant into his bag. He’s going to have to come up with a better plan if he wants to kiss you. He could just ask, but where’s the fun in that?

Third time’s the charm, and Tom believes a direct approach is better than what he’s been trying. It’s taken a few more days before he had another chance to try again. This time, he decided not to beat around the bush. He still wants to do this in the traditional sense, but he’s cutting a few corners. He takes the plant he’s been carrying everywhere and heads over to your trailer.

Christmas is slowly approaching, and he wants to get this in before the day arrives, otherwise all of this effort will have been for nothing.

You’re in the middle of making food for yourself because it’s better than eating out. Plus, if you don’t make the meat that’s been sitting in your fridge for days soon, it’s going to go bad. The only problem is that you can’t cook for shit. You’d invite someone over to help, but they have their own things going on right now. You’ll have to do this one on your own.

You’re not expecting anyone over despite there being enough food for two people. Nonetheless, there is a knock at your door. There’s time for a tiny break so you leave your station to answer the door.

“Hey, Tom, I wasn’t expecting you,” you chuckle.

“I came to ask if you had a few minutes to talk?”

“Yeah, sure, come on in,” you smile and take a step back from the door.

Tom was clearly expecting you to step outside which he then planned to take out the plant and hold it above your head. When you walked further inside, his heart sank a bit until he saw what you were doing.

“What are you doing?”

“Attempting to cook for myself. I’m not very good at this.”

“For one, you don’t need the heat on high,” he says and places the plant in his back pocket so he can help you.

“Why not? It cooks faster,” you pout.

He steps inside your trailer and closes the door behind him. He approaches the stove and turns it down to a low medium.

“Not exactly,” he chuckles.

“How about you help me, and as a reward, you can stay and have dinner with me. I have enough here for two people.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

He vowed to himself that the next time he wants to get you underneath the mistletoe, he’s going to get it right.

Tom is sick and tired of all of his plans going so wrong. He decides that instead of waiting for you to come to him, he’s going to you. Christmas is right around the corner, and he needs to do it now before he goes back to London for the holidays. It didn’t matter what he was doing, he drops whatever was in his hands, grabs the plant, and heads over to your trailer. He knew you were in your trailer because you announced to everyone to not bother you while you’re practicing your lines.

There were so many lines to go over, and given it was a scene with heavy dialogue, you were going out of your mind. This is a scene with Rom since your character is on Asgard who then interacts with Loki. Initially, you thought it might be better to practice alone without any distractions, but it might be a bit more bearable with Tom. You set down your script and yank the door open to head to his trailer when you stopped short. Tom is standing there with his fist raised as if he was going to knock on the door. When you two made eye contact, he lowered his hand quickly.

“Oh, Tom, I was just going to look for you.”

“Really? What for?”

“I wanted to read lines with you. I’m kind of in my own head right now. Why are you here?” you ask innocently.

Right, he came here on a mission.

He didn’t say anything except pull out the mistletoe and hang it over your head.

“Tom?” you ask when you saw what was happening.

“You know, it’s tradition to kiss under the mistletoe,” he says confidently.

His words roll off ha tongue smoothly and with ease, but the light pink tint on his cheeks show his true colors. The gentle look in his eyes proves that you can be yourself around him, that you don’t have anything to worry about. If this were anyone else, you’d try to find a way to let them down; not with him.

“Well, I wouldn’t want to break tradition,” you grin.

He lowers the mistletoe as you lean up toward him. He met you halfway until your lips met. Having Tom be your first mistletoe kiss was something truly special, but your first kiss with Tom left you without words. His lips are so soft, his tongue gently carcasses yours, you taste a hint of coffee, and his large hands feel so warm against your cheeks. To have Tom as a mistletoe kiss is an honor. All those other women he kissed before are lucky, and now you consider yourself it too.

“Hey! Downey! I owe you twenty bucks! They kissed!” Evans shouts from one of the nearby set buildings.

“Lucky bitch! I owe Hemsworth fifty!” Scarlett shouts back.

A breathy laugh leaves your lips when you hear your friends betting on you and Tom getting together.

“Want to go inside?” Tom whispers.

“Try and stop me,” you chuckle and take him inside your trailer.

You can hear your coworkers argue about who won the bet, but you’ve already won the best prize you could possibly get.

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[aceonice]

5 Times Magnus indulges Alec's love of sugar and 1 time Alec goes above and beyond to return the favor.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23755615/chapters/57055885

CHAPTER ONE

One: Dessert Wine  

“Do you remember when we first met and you asked me if Alec was a flowers man or a cologne man?” Isabelle says suddenly, wineglass raised halfway to her lips. 

Magnus raises his eyebrows, his own glass dangling between his fingers, “Yes?” 

“I thought I should finally give you an answer.” She leans forward conspiratorially despite the fact that they are the only two people in the loft and there’s still quite a large amount of space between the armchair she’s occupying and the one Magnus is lounging in. “He’s a chocolates man.” 

“Really?” Magnus feels a smile tug at his lips at the idea of his stoic, stubborn Shadowhunter boyfriend having a sweet tooth. He remembers Alec’s reaction to the drink he’d given him after he had helped Magnus heal Luke, the way he’d sucked his lips over his teeth in distaste. He’d thought Alec was simply unacquainted with the taste of alcohol, but now he wonders if there’s more to it. 

Isabelle nods and Magnus realizes there’s a flush to her cheeks. He’s forgotten just how long they’ve been sitting in his loft, making idle chatter as they sipped red wine, but he thinks she’s probably passing the point of tipsy. “Alec has the biggest sweet tooth of anyone I know. And it’s like a big secret. He doesn’t tell anyone, I don’t really know why. I think he's worried about his reputation.” 

“If it’s a big secret,” Magnus says, sipping his wine, “how do you know about it?” 

Her smile is sly. “He’s my brother, Magnus. Also, I found his stash of candy in his work desk.” 

“He has candy in his desk?” 

Isabelle is grinning now. She brushes a few long strands of hair from her face, eyes shining. “That’s all he has in the top right drawer.” 

“I don’t blame him. If I were doing hours of paperwork every day and regularly dealing with the Clave, I’d want something sweet to snack on too,” Magnus muses. 

“Don’t tell him I told you."

Magnus hums. “Why did you tell me?” 

“Alec deserves someone who spoils him and I can tell you want to. I thought you could use the information.” 

Magnus can’t help but laugh in response even as he shakes his head at her antics. “Isabelle, you’re always a delight.” 

“Anything for you and Alec.” She raises her glass in a sort of toast as Magnus feels a ping at his wards and straightens up. He sees Isabelle roll her eyes, but ignores it in favor of watching Alec enter the loft, leaving his gear and outer layers near the door. The Shadowhunter pauses when he turns and finds Magnus and Isabelle looking at him.  

“Izzy, I didn’t know you were here.” 

“I was just leaving.” She downs the rest of her wine, setting the empty glass on the table as she stands. She sways slightly and Magnus gets to his feet, preparing to catch her if she stumbles.

She quickly regains her balance, but Magnus doesn't hesitate to ask, “Would you like a portal back to the Institute?” 

She shakes her head. “I need the walk.” She hugs Alec on her way out, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “See you tomorrow.” 

“Be safe,” Alec advises. 

Isabelle pauses halfway out the door to smirk back at them. “I think that’s my line.” 

Alec’s brow furrows, confusion lining his face. He turns to Magnus when the door shuts behind his sister. “What did she mean by that?” 

“Nothing darling.” Magnus doesn’t think Alec will appreciate his sister’s joke about their sex life. He sets down his glass and moves forward to greet Alec with a lingering kiss. “How was your day?” 

He delights in watching Alec practically melt in his hands, relaxing into his touch. “Better now. What was Izzy doing here?” 

“We were drinking wine and chatting,” Magnus says, grabbing a new bottle of dessert wine to pour Alec a glass while banishing Isabelle’s empty one. He holds it out and watches Alec sip at it. His boyfriend gives him a small, surprised smile. “What do you think?” 

“This is good,” Alec says as he sits on the couch, sipping at the wine again. "What is it?"

"Lambrusco amabile." Magnus sits beside him rather than sitting back down in his chair. He slings an arm around Alec’s shoulder, tightening it when Alec instantly leans into his hold.

“I don't know what that is, but thank you.” 

“I’m glad you’re back,” Magnus says, pressing a kiss to the top of his hair. 

Alec sips at his wine, relaxing further into Magnus' side. “Nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

  Two: Muffins

The next morning, Magnus decides to try something rooted in his newfound logic. While Alec showers, he summons them breakfast from one of his favorite little cafes in southern France.  

He sets the muffins on the table and is about to cast a heating spell when Alec joins him. His own sandalwood shampoo is wafting off his boyfriend and he can’t help but pull Alec into a long kiss, brushing his fingers through his still damp hair.  

When he steps back, Alec is smiling softly at him. “You got us breakfast?” 

Magnus hums. “From one of my favorite French cafes, I’ll have to take you there when you have a day off.” 

Alec eyes him with a slight flush in his cheeks. Magnus hides his smile as he takes the muffins out of the bag on the table. “I wasn’t sure what to get you so I got a blueberry muffin and a banana muffin. Do you have a preference?”

When Alec hesitates, Magnus summons a knife and cuts them both down the middle. He puts half of the blueberry muffin and half of the banana muffin on one plate, which he hands to Alec. He takes the other halves for himself as they settle at the table.  

Alec blinks over at him with a slightly sappy smile. “Thank you, Magnus.” 

“It’s just breakfast,” Magnus says in response. “Let me know which muffin you like more.” 

Alec nods and nibbles at the banana. His eyes widen in appreciation, likely surprised by how sweet it is. “It's amazing.” 

Magnus is more interested in watching Alec’s reactions than enjoying his own food. He’s not disappointed when Alec bites into the blueberry muffin and makes a sound entirely too similar to the moans Magnus has pulled from him in bed. 

“You prefer the blueberry one?” 

Alec swallows and shrugs. “I like them both, but yeah, blueberry is my favorite.” 

“I prefer banana myself,” Magnus responds, finally beginning to eat his breakfast. He’s thrilled that Isabelle’s statement as to Alec’s sweet tooth has held true and that Alec, normally so perceptive, hasn't already caught on.  

When they finish breakfast, Magnus creates a portal, knowing they’ve spent too much time for Alec to make it to the Institute on time by foot. He’s surprised, but elated when Alec pauses to press another kiss to his lips, covered lightly in the powdered sugar used to top the blueberry muffins, before leaving.  

With a smile playing at his lips and a warmth in his chest, Magnus begins getting ready for his own day, wondering how else he can subtly spoil his workaholic boyfriend. 

  Three: Mocha

Magnus doesn’t know why Alec schedules Downworld Cabinet meetings so early sometimes. He thinks he should still be at home in bed, preferably with Alec, at nine in the morning, not in the Institute, navigating political disputes.  

But he goes without complaint, taking his seat next to Alec and smiling at his boyfriend. He doesn’t do anything more, doesn’t greet him with a hug or a kiss the way he wants to, knowing they need to keep the tone of professionalism.

It doesn’t stop Magnus from noticing, only several moments after the meeting has started, that Alec has a cup of coffee from the Institute on the table in front of him. He watches Alec sip the drink and sees the briefest sign of distaste in the slight downturn of Alec's lips.  

Magnus blinks as a new idea comes to him and he magics the coffee, adding a large dose of chocolate syrup. 

Rather than listening to the dispute the seelies are having with the vampires, Magnus watches for Alec to take another sip. Eventually he does. Magnus can see the moment his expression shifts from a tight one, ready to grimace at the taste, to surprised happiness. He lowers the cup from his lips, gaze skirting to Magnus. 

Magnus quirks a smile in return and makes a display of summoning his own coffee. It's less sweet than what he's given Alec, but it comes from a locally owned coffee shop, meaning it’s ten times better than anything the Institute brews up. Lukewarm bean juice hardly qualifies as coffee. 

Alec smiles, small and fast and aimed only at Magnus as he takes a longer sip from his newly enhanced drink before turning back to the matters at hand. 

When the meeting comes to an end and the other Downworld representatives make their way out, Alec leans in and presses a soft kiss to Magnus’ lips. He pulls back and Magnus’ tongue darts over his own lips, tasting residual sweetness.  

“Thank you,” Alec says, picking up his now empty coffee cup. “For this.” 

“Any time darling. Institute coffee hardly counts as coffee, let alone good coffee. Next time let me summon you coffee before you leave.”  

Magnus snaps his fingers, refilling Alec's cup with a mocha from the same little coffee shop he'd gotten his drink, adding whipped cream this time. He can tell from the slight flush in Alec’s cheeks and his glance away that he won’t ask Magnus to summon him coffee. Of course, he won’t. He almost refuses to let Magnus spoil him. He sips at the new coffee and hums his appreciation. “What kind is it?”  

Magnus is aghast, his mouth dropping open as he stares at the Shadowhunter. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a mocha before.” 

Alec shrugs, a half smile tugging at his lips. “I haven’t tried much coffee outside the Institute.” 

“Well. We must rectify that as soon as possible,” Magnus states, brushing another soft kiss to Alec’s lips before they leave the meeting room. He’s already imagining all of the places he might take Alec, the gourmet foods and exquisite espresso he can introduce him to. He can't wait.

  F our : Éclairs 

Magnus is grinning as he steps through a portal, hand-in-hand with Alec. The familiar sounds of street musicians and rain on cobblestone welcome him back to France. He flicks a hand and suddenly he’s holding an umbrella over their heads, protecting them from the rain. It’s a short walk to the café, but Magnus isn’t about to let his hair be ruined during a date. 

Alec is staring awed at the city around them while Magnus tugs him down the street. “Come, mon amour.” 

“Are we in France?” 

“You said I could choose where we got breakfast.” 

Alec snorts, but his hand tightens around Magnus’. “I assumed we would stay in America.” 

“What’s the point of having a warlock boyfriend if you can’t portal to le Midi for breakfast?” 

“Le Midi?”

Magnus pulls open the door to the café. “Southern France.” 

Alec ducks inside and Magnus can see him taking in the lovely aroma of coffee and chocolate, the soft music playing over the speakers, the warmth of the air.  

Magnus closes his umbrella, letting it disappear between shakes of his hand, before tugging Alec over to the counter where a woman greets them in rapid French. Magnus responds in kind. “Bonjour mademoiselle, deux cafés au lait, s'il vous plaît.” 

While she starts their coffees, Alec studies the pastry case with wide eyes. 

“What do you think?” He presses against Alec’s side, looking over the pastries himself. His mouth waters as he examines them.  

Alec tongue darts over his lips as he shakes his head. “I don't... What would you recommend?” 

Magnus hums thoughtfully and turns to the woman behind the counter, ordering two éclairs to go with their coffees.

When they have their food and drink, Magnus leads Alec to a table near the back of the cafe. It's against one of the windows where they can listen to the patter of raindrops on the glass. As they sit, Magnus magics a bit of sugar into Alec’s coffee. Not enough to hide the smooth taste of the espresso- he needs to be able to enjoy what coffee is supposed to taste like- but to lighten it to a flavor he’ll enjoy slightly more. 

Alec smiles at him, pure and easy. It makes his whole face light up. “This is nice.” 

“And you haven’t even tried the food yet,” Magnus teases, taking a bite of his éclair and sighing at the sweetness.  

Alec rolls his eyes. “I’m sure it’s great, I just mean, being here, being anywhere, with you. When we don’t have to work, we can just relax... It’s nice.” 

Magnus reaches across the table to take his hand, interlacing their fingers. He smiles back at Alec, feeling unexplainably soft. “I enjoy it as well.” They share a moment of simply sitting, holding hands, listening to the ambiance around them before Magnus glances at the food. “I am, however, extremely curious to see what you think of the éclairs.”  

It comes as no surprise to Magnus that Alec loves the pastry.

  Five: Truffles  

Magnus is bored. 

He’d come to pick Alec up from the Institute for once and gotten a precious grin and a soft kiss for his efforts. They’d been so close to getting out when something had come up that 'absolutely demanded' the Head’s attention.  

Alec had been sweet, saying he could meet him at home, but Magnus was determined. He’d come for a reason so he agreed to wait in Alec’s office.  

Except it’s been almost twenty minutes and now he’s bored.

He stands up from the uncomfortable chair he’d been residing in and stretches his back, eyeing the desk. It’s scattered with papers, but he doesn’t think Alec would appreciate him organizing it. He surely has some kind of organization system to what appears to Magnus as mere chaos.

He cocks his head as he suddenly remembers when Isabelle had said to him. Alec has a drawer of sweets.

He wonders if that’s still true and slips around the desk. He tells himself that if he finds anything else in the drawer he’ll close it instantly and leave it alone. With that almost-reassurance, he pries open the top right drawer and grins at the contents.  

Sure enough, Alec has been hoarding candy. There are three candy bars stacked against one edge, a few lollipops scattered around the middle that make Magnus’ mind go to places it shouldn’t, and a box of mini cookies on the other side. 

Magnus’ grin slips away when he realizes that Alec isn’t just hoarding candy. He’s hoarding cheap candy. Which is a problem that must be rectified immediately because he knows how much Alec enjoys the fancy things he buys or summons him. 

Magnus waves his hand over the open drawer and a bag of dark chocolate truffles, in a variety of flavors, appears inside. He smiles and slides the drawer shut just as office door opens. 

Alec steps inside, raising his eyebrow when Magnus moves around the desk. Before he can ask what Magnus was doing behind it, Magnus’ hand is trailing from his throat to curl in his hair. He pulls Alec into a bruising kiss.

It ends with him whispering against Alec's lips, “Can we go home now?” 

“Yeah,” Alec answers, his voice gruff. “Let’s go home.” 

“Good.”  Magnus summons a portal and practically drags Alec through to distract him in a way they both thoroughly enjoy.  

 The next day, Alec returns home, holding a bag of chocolate accusatorially in his hand. Magnus is pleased to note that it’s been opened and is not quite as full as when he’d left it.  

“Did you do this?” Alec asks as he toes off his boots at the door and fully enters the living room. 

Magnus smiles over his martini. “Can’t I do something nice for my boyfriend?” 

Alec snorts softly and sits the bag on the table. Rather than sitting on the couch, he straddles Magnus’ lap, tucking himself into the shorter man, pressing his forehead to Magnus’ shoulder. 

Magnus magics away the martini so he can hold his Shadowhunter in both arms, a welcome surprise.  

“Thank you,” Alec breathes against his shoulder. 

“My pleasure.” If leaving Alec chocolates leads to this, Magnus thinks he will have to do it more often.  

“This isn’t the first time you’ve given me chocolate or sweets,” Alec says, a hint of understanding in his voice.  

Magnus hums. “Is that a complaint?” 

“No. Of course not. But how did you know?” 

“Isabelle,” Magnus admits, carding a hand through Alec’s hair, his other hand resting on Alec’s hip. 

Alec snorts. “I should've guessed.” 

“I think it’s cute,” Magnus says, pressing a kiss to Alec’s hair as it’s the only place he can reach given their positions. “Big bad Shadowhunter has a sweet tooth.” 

Alec huffs against his shoulder before sitting back enough to make eye contact. There’s an easy happiness to his face that Magnus finds as endearing as always. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Alec presses a kiss to his lips. He still tastes of chocolate and it makes Magnus smile. “And I like the chocolates.” 

“I’ll remember that.” 

Alec flushes as he pulls away. “That’s not what I-” 

Magnus shushes him, placing his fingers to Alec’s enticing lips. “I know. Let me spoil you.” 

“Fine,” Alec grumbles as Magnus moves his fingers. “But I’m going to get revenge.” 

“For spoiling you?”  Magnus clarifies.

“You don’t get to be the only one to do nice things in our relationship.” 

“I’m hardly-” 

Alec cuts him off with a long kiss. “Can you get me more of that wine?” 

“The sweet one?” 

Alec nods and Magnus waves a hand so a glass appears in Alec's hand. He sits back slightly, a small smile on his face.

He peers at Magnus from under his lashes as he takes a sip. “Thank you."

Then and there, Magnus makes it his mission in life to spoil Alec with sweets as much as he can get away with. 

[wildshadowtamer]

Home & Thunder (Reader)

Thanks to @thunderstruck-edgelord for the idea of a thunderstorm and reader fanfic! (Gotta say, i’m a bit obsessed with this blog)

Warnings: Mentions of Bitty Abandonment and off-screen character death

Notes: The Reader character is androgynous, that’s why everyone says “Them” (just so it makes it easier for you to imagine yourself)

Characters: Lamia bitties belong to @vex-bittys, ‘Beta’ belongs to Luna #MLT #ACT on UTAU Amino.

You were heading home in a horrible late-night thunderstorm, rain pouring down harshly and the wind stinging your eyes, you pulled your jacket closer to you as you run through the horrid weather when you suddenly stop.

A sharp whining hit your ears and you look around to see where it came from “Hello?” You asked worried, wondering if someone or something was crying for help, the whining got louder, whatever it was must have heard you.

It came from an alleyway, dark and dusty, you decided to approach carefully, despite the horrible conditions. Lightning struck, and a high-pitched scream came from a soaked through cardboard box labelled ‘FRAGILE’, Something alive was under it.

“Oh...You poor thing...” You mutter under your breathe as you approached, another flash of white and loud crack hit the air, making the creature under the box scream in fright again. “It’s alright, just...come out, I’ve got you.” You told it in a calm, quiet tone.

You soon realize it can’t lift the pathetic box it was hiding under, so you carefully lift it enough to look underneath and- ...its four tiny skeletons, about 8 inches tall.

“What…What are you doing here?” You asked, reaching your hand out cautiously towards them, the smallest quickly latched onto your hand and cried, to which you quickly put your hand to your chest and hold him calmly, your free hand once again reaching out to the other three.

“…I don’t trust you.” One of them spoke, crossing its arms angrily but another strike of lightning quickly changed its mind as it grabbed the remaining two skeletons and got onto your hand, so you could safely put them in your fluffy jacket, now soaked in water.

“Let’s get you four home.” You spoke to them silently, getting up and running at a slower pace than before back to your apartment, after about 20 minutes you arrived at the apartment block you lived in and unlocked the metal door, sighing as it closed with a dull thud.

The sound of rain echoed through the empty hallways as you hurried upstairs and opened your door “Here we are, you three.” You mutter to the tiny skeletons hidden in your jacket, which you now unzipped once reaching the Livingroom. You laid them down on the couch and realized only one had legs, the other three had beautiful snake tails:

One had a striking orange and red tail, the second had a beautiful black and white tail and the last, smallest one had a striped red and yellow tail.

“Oh…wow those ar-“ You got cut off by lightning and another scream from the smallest, who latched onto the orange tailed one quickly, Orange, as you promptly named him, hushed Stripe and stroked his skull, coiling around him protectively from the storm.

You decided to try your best at muffling the storm, drawing the blinds and curtains over the Livingroom window, holding the small skeletons close to your chest as you laid on the couch and put a lullaby CD into the old radio on your coffee table.

“Shhh, close your eyes and goodnight~” You sung quietly along with the music, the storm seemed to drown out quickly as the ball of skeletons on your chest purred softly, you draped a fluffy pink blanket over all of you before sleep claimed you all.

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

When you awoke, you saw the four tiny skeletons still laying on your chest, snoring. It was cute, to say the least, so sat up and adjusted them carefully.

“Oh, hello.” Stripe, as you named him, lifted his head and tried to smile but ended up stifling a sob, holding his hands to his face. “I-I’m not crying, s-shut up!” He hissed before you could even speak, seems like he didn’t like people seeing him upset.

“The storms gone, its okay.” You hushed the shaking skeleton, stroking him with two fingers, scared to hurt him on accident.

“I-I don’t care! Its not like it cared me…or anything.” He mumbled angrily, wiping the tears from his eyes quickly and jumped as Orange awoke.

“Huh? Oh, hello human!” Orange sat up quickly, grinning and propping both arms on his hips “I’m very thankful you saved us last night, your very kind!” Orange blush dusted his cheeks, hugged the happy skeletons side as soon as Orange awoke.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude but why were you four under a box?” You questioned carefully, scared one of them might bite, they were snakes after all. “Well…” Orange began, keeping eye contact while rubbing circles into Stripe’s back “I’m not too sure about the others but from what Beta and the Krait had told me, most of us either got abandoned or lost.” He looked away, his smile fading.

“Oh…you poor-“ You stopped, realizing you had no idea what they were. “Lamia Bitties, except for Beta…She isn’t a Lamia” Orange helpfully explained, you took a mental note of researching these Bitties.

“Right. How horrible…” You frowned, stroking Orange’s tail with your fingers softly “Its alright! I know my owners name, so you can bring me right back him once we’re feeling better!” He beamed happily, Stripe whined at the mention of an owner which made Orange flinch slightly.

“H-Huh? Oh, h-h-hi!” The one Orange referred to as ‘Krait’ woke up and waved shyly, his eyes already filled with tears “I-I-I’m…” He trailed off, pulling the tiny scarf he had wrapped around his neck to his mouth “Most of us don’t have names, Beta’s the only one who had an owner who named her.” Orange once again helpfully added in softly, you already fixed that issue

“Well, I already kinda figured out names, if you want them.” You smiled, Orange and Krait’s eyes lit up with different emotions: Orange had excitement and Krait had hope.

“Really!? Well, go ahead!” Orange quickly cheered you on, bouncing with excitement “Alright then um…” You scanned the three lamias’, you already knew what to call Orange and Stripe, obviously but Krait was harder.

“Orange,” You pointed to him, he giggled happily “Stripe,” He grumbled and nodded “and Kayra” You smiled at Kayra, who teared up and squeaked before hugging you frantically “Thank you thank you thank you!” He kept repeating, shaking from crying and joy.

“Aw…it okay little…Kayra” The realization that you didn’t know their gender hit you, as they were skeletons, you just presumed they were all guys…oops.

“Umm, what…gender are you guys…?” You mumble awkwardly, Orange chuckled and grinned “Me and Stripe are guys, Beta and Kayra are girls. Don’t worry, I know its hard to tell” He reassured you, coiled around Stripe on your lap. Kayra was still shaking and hugging you, your damp jacket still on.

 “Oh, hah, good. Nearly misgendered ya, Kayra!” you joked, you felt Kayra shakily chuckle and then suddenly jump away when you sneezed “Oh…oops, sorry Kayra” You were quick to apologies, but she just seemed a bit shocked if anything.

“Ugh…I shouldn’t have slept in wet clothes…” You muttered, picking them up and putting them on the couch as you got up, a shiver ran down your spine from the cold you have, and Orange snickered behind you “I’ll be right back” You told them as you walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower.

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

[Orange’s POV]

The human walked off to what I presumed to be the shower, as soon as she was out of sight, the newly named Stripe spoke up “Their….nice, actually.” I Nodded in agreement, smiling “Mhm! Not everyone would rescue Bitties they don’t know!” I smiled at Stripe, who blushed slightly and looked away nervously “Hah…y-yeah.”

“I Wonder If they’ll keep us…” Kayra mumbled quietly, I turned to her and put my hand on her shoulder comfortingly “Don’t worry! I’m sure she’ll keep you three, I have an owner after all. If she doesn’t, I’m sure she’ll bring you to a nice home where you’ll be loved!”

Kayra smiled and fidgeted with her sweater sleeves, nodding shyly “Y-yeah, that sounds good.” She agreed, coiling around the still sleeping Beta “Is���she gonna wake up ooor?” I asked in a joking way, but it did seem she was fast asleep, I didn’t blame her, it was a bad night after all.

“Alright, I’m back!” The Human called, a towel wrapped around their body and hair, which was making it hard to tell what they were aside from human “Oh! Human, we forgot to do formal introductions!” I slither forward to the edge of the couch where the Human knelt, I held out a hand “Hello! I’m Orange, its very nice to meet you!” I grinned when the human took my small hand and bowed “Hey, I’m Y/N, very nice to meet you oh great Orange!” They joked happily, acting like I was a king, which I didn’t mind at all.

Stripe snickered at the sight and red blush dusted his cheeks, I couldn’t help but blush too and laugh, which sent Y/N into a laughing fit too. By the time we had settled down, all our ribs hurt, and we were struggling to catch our breathe

“Wow Haha…I haven’t had company like you three for a while!” Y/N sighed happily, still giggling a bit “So, do you know your Owners number?” She asked, looking at me since I was the one to mention knowing my Owners name, thankfully, I did. “Here, I’ll put it in your phone!” I gestured for the phone laying on the coffee table next to the radio “Oh yeah, forgot I left it here.” I heard Y/N mutter under their breathe, passing it to me carefully, I tapped in the number and started to text my Owner

???: Hey, it’s your Papython, got lost last night and a human helped me!

It took a few minutes of idle chatting between Me and Y/N for him to answer

Owner: Thank god Paps! I was so worried you got hurt in that thunderstorm! I’ll come pick you up!

I looked up from the phone and cocked my head at Y/N, quickly asking what the address was and texting it to my Owner, as well as Y/N’s name.

Owner: Right, be over there on my motorbike in half an hour, I know how much you love riding in the sidecar!

“Okay, he’ll be over in a half hour!” I told Y/N happily, they nodded, and I carried Stripe, Beta and Kayra to the floor to talk easier

“So, what’d you do with your owner?” Y/N asked quickly, I shuffled closer “Well I actually go on long rides with him on his motorbike and do woodcarving with him some days! We’ve gone paintballing and mountain climbing, we even went snorkeling a few times!”

I talked about all the cool things we’ve done for the half hour until the apartment door knocked and I heard my owners muffled voice “HI!” I yelled, making Stripe and Kayra flinch. Y/N got up and opened the door, to which I followed them.

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

[Regular POV]

You open the door to see a young blonde teen with beautiful blue eyes in black biker gear, he held out his free hand, the other holding his helmet under his arm.

“Nice to meet you sweetheart, I’m Owen, I presume you’re the one with my Papython?” He asked as you took his hand and nodded “Yup! I kinda gave him a nickname, actually.” You mentioned, putting your hands on your hips, not realizing you still were in a towel.

“Oh? I’ve been meaning to name him, actually. What’d you choose?” He asked, not even mentioning the towel “Orange, I thought it suited him!” You blush and laugh, shuffling to the side when you feel Orange nudge your leg “Speak a’ the devil”

“Hi Owen!” He grinned “Y/N’s been super nice to me!” Owen knelt down and picked him up, to which Orange sat on his shoulder “That’s great bud, hey,” He focused his attention on you “Thanks. It means a lot to me that someone would take him in like that.” You felt your face going red “Oh it’s no problem! Nothing I can’t handle” You laugh nervously, giving Orange a thumbs up.

“Anywho, we got a motorbike waiting, don’t we bud?” Owen glanced at Orange, who lit up and nodded excitedly, You two say your goodbyes and you close the door, clothing realization finally settling in.

“…oh my god Hes gonna think I’m so weird.” You shook your head, in disbelief that you just did that. “Pff- nice job.” Stripe snickered from the couch, you turned around, face as red as his tail, and quickly walk off to your bedroom to get dressed.

[general-loki]

Unlucky Gambler Chapter 4

Title: Unlucky Gambler

Chapter 4: Distorted Instruments

Series: Fate Grand Order / Unlimited Blade Works

Pairing: Lancer Cu Chulainn / Archer Emiya

Rating: M

Warnings: Mild sexual content, language, friends with benefits situation (basically for now)

Summary:  Cu Chulainn spends a night wandering Chaldea halls after a battle well fought. A part of him sort of wants to hunt down Archer, but he keeps running to nearly anyone else instead.

You can read the rest of this series and this chapter on AO3 here.

Or continue below.

Making it back to Chaldea base never actually felt “normal” even after a couple times, but it was at least a relief. The last singularity wrapped up as well as it could, and for a little while they could expect some rest back at HQ. It looked like the group would need it. Each of these excursions was going to push and pull on the young master in all sorts of ways--it was obviously only going to ramp up--so it was best she rested while she had the chance. There were a lot of servants already for her to wrangle as it were.

Cu Chulainn could tell Archer’s focus was on making sure Ritsuka rested and was actually doing alright. Although she had Mash, the doctor, and everyone else already doting on her, maybe the help of such a servant would be good for her too. So Cu didn’t get in the way--as much as he was tempted to remind Archer to stop hovering so much. He was dealing with this mess in his own way. For now it would be alright and until then there were even more folks around to balance that support. As just a “spear” and combat-inclined servant, he wasn’t of much help in times like this anyway. He had his job. He could cut it there. He didn’t have to pick up anything on the side.

That was his intent anyway, but a walk through the facility one night shortly after the successful Rayshift and return brought him face to face with his “boss.” There was more on the table than just cutting anyone down now.

They had chatted, sure. Idle things, battle plans, small bits of himself, but never a longer, proper conversation. Other servants always interrupted. Them or battle. That would not last however.

Ritsuka was seated at one of the outer wall benches, watching out over the hall--seemingly lulled into a gentler state by the soft humming of equipment that powered the base. She looked peaceful, like she was nearly ready to sleep, yet not quite there. It took her a few seconds to recognize Cu coming down the hall toward her. That sleepy look faded and she turned a bit more his way, her hands pressed to the bench at her sides.

“Cu Chulainn. You don’t have to check in when we’re back home,” she said, her tone teasing.

The teasing surprised him a little, but he wasn’t one to pass up the chance to get in that kind of tangle. He stopped his wandering in front of her, leaning down slightly to give her a big grin. “Wouldn’t you miss seeing this face every night?”

Ritsuka laughed lightly and nodded in the end. “I guess I would. I’ve gotten used to seeing you pop by. You usually say something right when I need to hear it too.”

Cu tilted his head to one side, like the idea had to slide the rest of the way through his skull before it made any sense. “I do that, huh? Wasn’t aiming for poet, but I’ll take it I guess.”

“Not quite a poet. More like a coach. I think anyway,” she chatted back, kicking her legs under the seat.

That was a new one, but in the end, Cu would just take that too. “Well, I don’t think I got any advice for you tonight. Except maybe get some sleep. You looked ready to pass out. At least put your head down somewhere warm first,” he said despite himself. Did that sound like a coach? It sounded like someone else somehow…

Ritsuka rested her legs, her heels just barely kicked into the tile floor. She glanced aside before finding the words she wanted. “I had a lot on my mind so I was sort of walking it off. But I ended up thinking again and stopped,” she admitted.

Cu straightened up and gave the young master a more serious look. “That much, huh? Keeping your head that full’s gonna slow you down when you end up on the battlefield. Better to clear it out now.” With that said he took a seat at her side on the bench, resting with his elbows at either knee. He could look her way a bit easier that way and already see the look of shock on her face. The shock soon melted away to an expression he had some trouble reading. Was it regret or something else?

Ritsuka gathered and picked at the edges of her skirt with her fingertips, her eyes downcast. “I keep thinking about how many servants have shown up...how many of them are counting on me when we Rayshift…”

“Ah, the master’s burden, huh?” Cu said casually, if just to help lighten the mood. “Not that I’m guessing it’s any fun, but at least you got the burden right? You feel how heavy it is to be counted on. That’s better than some asshole throwing around that power like it was a game.”

“I can’t imagine taking this lightly. All of you are working hard to help. I can’t be so careless,” Ritsuka said with a lower voice.

She was earnest, Cu would give her that. It was nice to have a decent master--or at least one with these kinds of problems. However fleeting this existence was, she cared about them. That much he was certain of from her voice, the sting of tears nearly in her eyes.

“Then keep doing what you’re doing. I’ve seen some terrible masters in my time, but you’re a pretty good egg. If you’re worried about it, you’re probably doing fine,” he answered in the end, sure and calm.

Ritsuka let out a small sigh. “I’ve heard that twice now...Maybe you’re right. As long as I keep trying maybe I can keep you all safe.”

“Keep us safe, huh? Don’t go worrying about keeping me safe. Keep yourself in one piece. I’ll be just fine. You won’t find a servant hardier than me,” Cu proclaimed, even flexing one arm just to show her how tough he was. She certainly seemed impressed--at least until she was laughing.

She calmed her laughter a moment after, shaking her head. “I can’t really argue with that, can I? Even if I’m still sort of inclined to. I’ll still want to keep you safe too Cu Chulainn,” Ritsuka answered earnestly.

“And I’m saying you don’t gotta dote on me so much. It’s cute, but you got your hands full,” he replied. However impressed he was, that was a lot of pressure on one young lady. This was a long haul, not a one shot thing. He couldn’t help but sigh. “I think I get why that guy spoils you so much. Birds of a feather and all that.”

Ritsuka tilted her head, her eyes wide at the latter bit. “Who is that?” She had some guesses, but many of her servants were quite kind to her. It was hard to say what exactly Cu would categorize as spoiling.

Cu knew he probably shouldn’t talk about that guy, but he couldn’t stop his tongue either. “Archer. The red one. Always cooking for you, making sure you’re totally taken care of and all that. That’s some serious spoiling. I get the feeling you’d be doing the same back if anyone let you.”

Ritsuka laughed again, this time a bit nervously. “I can’t do that much housework. I’d get exhausted. I do wonder if I wouldn’t mind cooking for everyone though. You think he might be willing to teach me?”

“You take an interest in it and he’ll feed you all the instructions too. He’ll act tough about it, but you can bet he’s gonna do it,” Cu said with a reassuring tone and grin. Maybe normal hobbies like that would be good for her. Work out some of that frustration she was probably building up with all that protecting business.

Ritsuka gave him an easier smile and a nod, content with that reassurance. She kicked her legs under the bench and let that happiness hang a few breaths before gathering the question on her mind. “You and Archer knew each other then, right? Before Chaldea.”

Cu swore internally at himself--already hearing Archer nagging him for talking too much. What was Archer even talking to her about himself? Just cooking? Housework? Nagging? Not about his obvious interest in Lancer? Nothing? Cu let the swearing settle for a second before he answered. “Yeah, we’re plenty familiar.” It was at least not a lie.

“Were you friends or…?” She drifted off, leaning forward to try and catch Cu’s gaze. The expression on her face said she was deeply interested in hearing more.

“Not exactly. Same Holy Grail war. Hard to make friends there, but we have an understanding. So you don’t have to worry about us,” Cu insisted at the end. He was pretty sure that would knock out any confusion. Ritsuke seemed more curious and more confused, but she settled back on the bench properly.

“I see. Then I hope you two have the chance to really get along this time. It looked like you two always did well together when you fought so I sort of wondered,” she admitted after a moment.

Still green, but she wasn’t blind to it all. Cu had to give her that much. She seemed to have a pretty solid intuition. He started to wonder if she already knew about them tangling, but at least she wasn’t giving off the outward appearance she thought so. Archer would probably kill him if she sussed it out in just a short conversation.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m hoping. He’s sort of a pain in the ass, but...well, we keep getting stuck together for whatever reason. Must be for something.”

“It’s not like fate or something?” Ritsuka suggested, not clear if she were joking or not.

A sound something like a snort or maybe like he was choking got stuck in Cu’s throat--mangling into this horrible laugh that was probably way too much for such a question. “Hell no, nothing like that. Stuff just happens sometimes. Believe me, I wouldn’t mind if it were somebody else, but I’m not that caught up with that guy.”

Ritsuka squinted at him with her brow furrowed. She sort of worried he actually choked at first however, clearly, he was fine. “Whatever the case… I’ll just be glad I have the both of you together on the same side.”

Cu rolled with that pretty quickly. Immediately even. “You are! Two experienced servants at this kind of thing. You’re a lucky girl,” he said hurriedly, grinning just as hard as he could. He could fake it until he forgot all about that garbage. Fated to be with Archer? Ridiculous. Stupid.

The young master seemed willing to let that be despite her own curiosity. “I guess I am. Thanks for looking out for me. I’m glad for the both of you, you know? You both have been trying to keep on top of things for my sake, I can tell.”

There was a sincerity to her answer that Cu couldn’t very well ignore. “That’s what we’re here for. But, that other guy would probably be pretty pleased to hear something like that.”

“You think so?”

“The way he hovers over you? No doubt.”

Ritsuka laughed lightly, in a way that said she’d relaxed. “Then maybe I’ll tell him next. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.” Cu hesitated a moment before he moved on. “We should get you to bed. Get some actual sleep.”

“Yeeeees,” Ritsuka replied in a sort of sing-song voice, but she did at least get up with a slight sway at first. Once she was steady, she started for her room.

“You gonna make it okay?” Cu said before she got too many strides out of his reach.

“I can do it. I’m not that sleepy. You don’t have to nag me too,” she replied, stalling her pace to stick her tongue out at him for a second.

“You couldn’t even begin to compare me to him,” Cu insisted to try and brush that off as fast as he could. It probably ended up sweeping the accusation further into the air around them.

Ritsuka laughed and waved him off with a simple “goodnight.” He gave her a “goodnight” back, but what else could he do? It left Cu alone on the bench for the time being, slightly rattled with his own thoughts. It was a ridiculous conversation mostly, but maybe it put the young master at ease. She was pulling a lot of weight here. She would eventually know he and Archer were closer than initial appearances let on. If he could just control that descent maybe it would be okay.

He personally didn’t think he cared too much if she found out, but Archer seemed pretty protective of that information. At this point, he wasn’t ready for all of this to fall apart. Whatever it was. If it was anything. It definitely wasn’t fate or anything stupid like that. Not seriously. In jokes maybe, but hearing that out of someone else did a number on his head. It sounded too complicated and they were keeping it simple. Some fun to break the tension, help on the field. A distraction to work out whatever the two of them had going on.

Lancer looked into his right palm with heavy eyes, the usual hum of the hall the only thing making any noise. No footfalls, no voices--just the usual quiet night of Chaldea. Some empty part of him hoped Archer would turn the corner and he could bother him--pick on him until any worries scattered. He hated it, but he was thinking about holding his hand first this time--just for a moment as he pulled him into a room and teased him to a climax. Daydreaming like this was a dangerous sport so he forced himself to his feet and marched down the hall.

Better to just find Archer and actually do it. No worries, no questions, no anything else. Just whatever would spring in the moment.

It would be just then that he wouldn’t find him in any of the usual places. Not that room, not any of the usual lounges or kitchen. He had to be hiding away somewhere. Was he always going to be stuck chasing him down in one way or another? The least Archer could do was show up when he had him on his mind--as frustrating as that was to consider.

Cu made a turn for a room he didn’t think he’d find Archer in, but figured he might as well check it at this point. It was usually used as a breakroom for some of the staff so the coffee pot was basically always full or brewing something fresh. If someone wanted a drink this was the place to be. However, instead of finding a group of sleep deprived staff or the Archer he was looking for, he found someone else, who nearly stabbed out his cigarette on the table when he heard the door open, but apparently stopped when he recognized his intruder.

The other man let out a huge sigh and turned the burning end away from the table to let the stick hang between his fingers more casually. Only after he was leaning back in his seat did he really give Cu a proper look. “Thought for a second there was an emergency, way you busted in,” Robin said casually, leaning full back into his chair, one leg crossed over the other.

Cu took much more calm steps into the room after, heading for the coffee pot and pouring a cup like that was what he meant to do. Had he been in that much of a rush? He had to have been really out of it…

“No pressing situations yet, far as I know,” he said as he poured a cup, watching the brown brew fill steadily by his hand. And yet, he felt his gaze turning over his shoulder to get a better look at this comrade obviously smoking where he shouldn’t be. Robin seemed fine enough--not exactly incredible in combat--but reliable enough to keep helping out. But it wasn’t like they talked and now it was sort of hard to avoid it. Cu took his cup and leaned against the back of the gently worn off-white sofa so he could face Robin at the table.

The two servants nonchalantly sized each other up as Cu finally got to talking. “Do you usually hang around here?”

Robin made a shifty glance toward the door before he relaxed back again. “Not exactly. But I’m not about to go outside either; what choice do I have?”

He could probably go into spirit form but that probably wasn’t what he was saying. Lancer wasn’t one to be too particular about that anyway. He had a feeling he knew what Robin meant. “You can only hide away so many places,” Cu figures, putting two and two together. It did put him in a particular place however. He pointed a finger at Robin’s cigarette, then himself. “Got any to spare?”

The look on Robin’s face was relief at first but some annoyance shortly after. He fished behind his cloak and produced another, holding it out Cu’s way, as much as he didn’t want to. The man understood a request for a hush bribe when he saw one. Cu left the end waiting as Robin did him the favor of lighting his too, leaning back after once more. That sour look stayed steady on his face as the exchange took place. Cu got the feeling he probably wasn’t even the only servant to bum a cigarette off Robin. Where he was getting them was suspect too but the Archer seemed to have a lot of tricks up his sleeve.

Some questions were better off not asked.

Once both of them had a moment to smoke without interruption, Robin broke the silence first. “You take well to this kind of thing, huh?” He commented vaguely. It seemed like he was still sizing him up. That or Robin just had the sort of gaze, careful and calculated to some extent. Like he always needed the precise measurement between himself and any unfamiliar party should anything go awry.

“The smoke?”

Robin rolled his eyes. He brought that on himself. “This whole crazy Chaldea war thing. You always shoot straight out there, no matter how weird the thing we’re fighting is.”

Cu shifted his weight against the back of the sofa, resting more on one leg over the other. “Is that what I’m doing? It’d be real sporting of any enemies off themselves first but no luck there. Someone’s gotta do it for them.”

“How pragmatic. I guess so far we haven’t really been in a position to avoid any of this combat.”

“If someone’s got the kind of powers we’re looking at they’re not gonna just back off because we ask nice,” Cu pointed out with an even tone. He had a feeling Robin was going somewhere but he wasn’t exactly on the ride yet.

“No, I get that. Believe me, I could find a way to worm out of it if there was one. I was just thinking you’re the kind of servant who’s suited to this kind of situation,” Robin finally explained, the two points clicking for Cu now.

He just had no idea how to take it. Was he good at this? Point him at a target and chances were he could take them out—was that all it took to be suited to a grail war? For some reason the idea sat poorly with him. He’d been looking for a decent match for his spear for the time being mostly. To be in active combat suited his interests fine as well, so he had no complaints that he’d been called to fight. There was still something else—not regret precisely but something adjacent. The echo of a desire.

I’m not done yet.

Or something like that.

He snapped out of his thoughts to give Robin a crooked grin. “If you’re worried about pulling your weight I can cover you, you know,” he said jokingly.

“Very funny,” Robin muttered. His shoulders sagged under his cloak as he took another drag of his cigarette. “But I’m doing what I can. I’m only saying you seem like you want to be here.”

“You don’t?”

“What else do I have going on?” Robin said with a wry look, somewhat amused with his own joke.

Cu gestured with the cig between his fingers, no mind for any falling ash. “I get nobody likes to talk about this but whatever it is, you’re here right? You got a chance to do something.” Whatever that something was.

Robin shook his head, his gaze more on the table than on this Lancer who was obviously trying to pry some conversation out of him. “I get it. I’ll figure that thing out as we go. For now I’ll just curse the luck that brought me here.”

Cu tilted his head, having a little bit of trouble following. This guy really was kind of negative. Or a hyper-realist. “What luck even gets you here?”

“What are the chances any of us are gonna end up summoned here? What kind of luck do you have to have to be the one pulled out? Even once, with everyone else vying for whatever your ‘something’ is it seems unlikely. So I don’t know why it’s us,” Robin went on, obviously venting a little.

“You’re saying it’s bad luck to get called out here? What kinda attitude is that?”

“I’m saying it’s not exactly a winner’s lottery here. You’re here but what’s the prize? I get it, saving the world and all the glory you’ll be forgotten for. It’s not good luck that gets you a spot, it’s being really unlucky,” Robin carried on, leaning with one elbow to the table. “More than once getting summoned? You couldn’t be less lucky.”

Cu felt that one stab right into his gut. He didn’t exactly feel like he had a stellar record in that regard. He got the feeling things couldn’t go worse than they had already at least. But maybe that was some aspect of luck involved. Will and desire to be somewhere only went so far.

“I don’t really wanna chock it up to chance. It just happens,” Cu said more seriously than he wish he had. He didn’t want to use that word. Not after that little chat with the master.

“Just happens. You and I and everyone else, we don’t have any kinda impact on it huh?” Robin answered as his eyes gave Cu a quick glance over. He was looking for some weakness to crack at, probably. There was something off about Lancer. Something way beyond Robin’s fairly decent guesses.

“You don’t have to put it like that,” Cu argued halfheartedly.

“Then it’s something. Something about you and I and whoever wound up here. If you won’t quantify it at least say there’s an ‘it’ to consider.”

“That still doesn’t sound good.”

“Was it ever going to? Look at this mess,” Robin said and gestured out toward the door, now getting a bit of ash on the table too. He dusted it away with the back of his unoccupied hand.

“Look, I’m not the kinda guy who thinks hard on this crap. I’m gonna stick to keeping the Master in one piece and maybe keeping the world together here,” Cu decided in the end, standing his ground there.

Robin laughed slightly, his tone more darkly amused. “You don’t think hard at all.”

“Hey—“

“It’s a good thing for you. Suits your type right? The Master needs hard-headed idiots for this kind of work. They’re the ones who get heroics done. That’s not for me. I’ll support you though, how about that?” Robin ended that with an odd smile, one Cu had a hard time reading. The guy had sort of a weird expression in general. Maybe they just didn’t jive well.

“I guess someone has to be the snakey one doing who knows what back there,” Cu relented. This was an argument he wasn’t going to win—if it were an argument at all.

“There you go. Leave the backstage stuff to me. You keep throwing yourself right into the thick of it. You and that red Archer can handle it,” Robin said with much of the same tone. This time Cu very directly felt him waiting for the reaction Robin was about to get because Cu had made the mistake of trying to hard NOT to think of that Archer this whole time.

“He’s the biggest idiot here. Don’t lump me in with him,” Cu argued on cue, his mind wandering other places though. He was hunting down that bastard and thinking too much about him enough already.

“Makes a hell of a good omelette though,” Robin said through a crooked grin.

“He made you an omelette? I didn’t get one,” Cu started to complain but held off the worst of his tone.

Robin shrugged one shoulder. “Guess you had to be there. I was working with the Master at the time so I guess that’s my reward.”

Somewhere Cu wanted to whine he definitely didn’t get anything. He really did have to be in the area for Archer to make him anything. He usually left him to pestering Ritsuka or the other servants to keep up appearances but still…

Wasn’t being cooked for a reasonable benefit to expect of his “friend?” In the depths in Cu’s thoughts awakened something terrible: he wanted to be treated to a meal. Something home cooked with him mind. How domestic that sounded made him want to wretch. He considered for a second maybe he was an idiot.

As he took to mental flips Robin just watched him, one eyebrow raised. Robin was pretty sure he was an idiot at least. Someone there had to be sure about something.

Cu only got as far as a groan into his egg-related contemplations before the door snapped open. Both of them froze, eyes wide, as none other than the red devil himself stood there.

“What are you doing?” Archer asked accusingly.

Robin and Cu scrambled, Robin putting out his cig on his glove, Cu dropping his into his untouched coffee cup. Both of them made a beeline for the bin like throwing away the evidence would somehow make Archer forget what he saw or the smell of smoke filling the room.

Neither got far before Archer started in on them. “You can’t just smoke wherever! I know the both of you know this!”

It left the two of them no choice but to take Archer’s orders and do a sweep up of the mess and help get the room ventilated and aired out. They earned themselves a short lecture on smoking in non-smoking rooms before Archer finally sighed and shook his head—clearly at the end of his patience with this.

“It’s as good as it’s going to get. I just don’t want to catch the two of you doing this again,” Archer said with some finality.

Cu glanced at Robin and grinned. “This is what I get for hanging around delinquents huh?” He said jokingly.

“Sure, I’m the delinquent,” Robin muttered.

“I’m willing to believe Lancer talked you into it. You’re still both to blame,” Archer answered, his arms crossed as he added a sagely nod to this.

“Me? I don’t even know where the smokes came from!” Lancer blurted out.

Archer only sighed once more and turned toward the door. “You can come try and make your case but you’re typically the source of that kind of behavior.”

Cu could see Robin struggling not to laugh, the strain on his face terribly obvious. He started to even duck under his cloak, pulling his hood up over his head even, like that would help somehow.

Cu grumbled something and followed after Archer as he started out the door. He tailed only a pace behind him down the hall, failing to say anything meaningful. It wasn’t like he could think anything close to that either. His head still had rumblings of all the previous conversations in it.  

They get a good distance down the empty hall before Lancer had anything at all. “Seriously though, where does Robin get the hook up. Cigs and omelettes and all that…” he muttered mostly to himself.

Archer turned rather suddenly to face Lancer, ending with them standing terribly close. Lancer took a step back toward the wall without thinking. As much as his usual inclination was to be up in Archer’s face, here in the middle of the hall seemed like a poor place for that. Rather than just understanding this wordlessly, Archer took that step back as an invitation to follow after Lancer another step closer.

Before he could process it Lancer had his back against the wall, Archer a step too deep into this as he leaned in closer still, that stupid smirk on his face.

“Did I hear you correctly? Were you so hungry, Lancer? ” Archer said in a lowered voice.

Lancer balked at the closeness not far from where they definitely left Robin behind. He had a hard time balancing that concern and his desire to wring a meal out of Archer.

“You know I’m not hungry but Robin—“

“So you’re jealous? You could say it. Tell me what you want,” Archer continued on in the same tone. It was great he amused himself so much, but the smugness was overbearing.

His back a little firmer against the wall, Lancer slinked back away from Archer’s face as much as he could but Archer was quick to press one hand to the wall, trapping Lancer from that side. Nervously, Lancer’s gaze went up to meet Archer’s. That place was a death trap—he couldn’t exactly look away now that he was getting caught up in his eyes. It was stupid and sappy to realize and almost made him more frustrated than the omelette thing.

“I’m not just gonna tell you what you want to hear. And besides we’re—“

Archer butted in again. “You could be honest with me. As a friend.” The smirk on his face probably warranted punching out but Lancer both couldn’t look away and couldn’t bear to see it any longer. He kept thinking about the lounge just down the hall. Just down the hall where Robin might still be.

Where they definitely left the door open to ventilate.

“Archer, look—“

Lancer only started to fail again, this time stopping because Archer’s hand went from the wall to the back of Lancer’s neck, soon slipping down to toy with his hair. In the second he noticed the sort of mood whatever he had said caused. For all Archer’s smug attitude, the touch itself felt oddly affectionate. Lancer assumed he’d be a lot more upset about the smoking thing but here he was.

Usually he’d try to find some way to turn it on Archer but his eyes scanned down the hall where they had come from. He felt some heat in his face and couldn’t help it either.

“If this is about the omelette thing…” Lancer tried again in a quieter voice.

“I never took you for the jealous type. Just ask me to make it for you. I might think about it,” Archer went on, his fingers still playing through Lancer’s hair.

That small touch could have ignited so much more. It took all the will he could muster not to grab Archer by the ass and drag him into next room—consequences be damned. He couldn’t very well ask to be cooked for now—his pride was on the line. But he could do whatever else he desired with Archer.

Just not right here.

With complete disregard for the hallway situation, Archer swayed a bit closer, enough their lips grazed. Not a kiss but dangerously close. Lancer felt his lungs shoot into this throat. He knew exactly what he wanted, but how was Archer so calm out here in the open?

“Archer,” Lancer tried again, more hushed as he felt Archer’s breath on his own. “We can’t here…”

“It’s the middle of the night. And I would hear the door if it were him,” Archer said almost soothingly. He sounded good that way, more tempting.

Lancer hovered one hand over Archer’s hip, now lost with what to do with any part of his body as he made himself finish the thought. “We left the door open…”

Archer jerked upright and to attention, spinning around and bodily covering Lancer like it would protect him somehow. From what, Lancer had no idea since he was still visible from behind Archer anyway. Lancer scanned the hall, seeing nothing but Archer didn’t let his guard down.

“Why then…”

“To air the room out,” Lancer piped in from behind Archer’s arm.

“Not that. I thought there was someone…” Archer said slowly, like that someone might appear in his process of saying so. No luck however as the hall remained silent save for the two of them. Lancer was grateful it shook him out of whatever mood he was in. He could plan an escape and maybe he’d forget this whole omelette mess.

Archer lowered his arm cautiously, soon turning to look back at Lancer still pressed to the wall. Lancer put his hands up, like it would clear him of any guilt or trouble this interruption caused. That second was enough for Lancer to slip away from the wall and ahead of Archer.

“It’s fine then. Do you wanna head back?” Lancer offered instead in a casual tone. It was sort of a shame to see Archer on his guard again instead of so playful. He’d just have to tease it back into him later. Preferably somewhere they wouldn’t have to worry about any watchers.

“The room,” Archer said shortly as he led the way. Lancer walked at his side this time, trying to get a feel for where Archer’s head was now. Probably all over, considering how quick he bounced mood to mood just then.

Their path brought them back to the room Archer had been using and it wasn’t until the door was safely shut behind them that Lancer let out a long breath.

“What was all that about?” Lancer asked Archer’s way as the other paced up and down the length of the bed a few times.

“Nothing apparently. Or do you mean before that?” Archer asked, pausing his steps.

Lancer found himself waving both hands. “No no, not before. I mean the hallway. We’re fine? Nobody there, right?”

“Did you see anyone?”

Lancer shrugged one shoulder. “Nobody. So you can relax now,” he said, moving to take a seat at the side of the bed.

There was a second of hesitation out of Archer--like he wasn’t sure of what he saw, but he did eventually take a seat next to Lancer. For that moment neither of them said anything, just eyeing the other and searching for the right words to start again.

“What were you doing in there with him anyway?” Archer asked first, his tone level enough.

“With Robin? I bumped into him and we ended up chatting for a minute,” Lancer said honestly.

“About what?”

Lancer tilted his head slightly before deciding to lay back on the bed, his legs still hanging off. He made himself comfortable that way before he replied. “About whatever. About this whole Chaldea and war thing.”

Archer turned slightly so he could look down over him, his expression disbelieving. “You had this conversation?”

“Yes, I had it! I can have it just fine. Not that we had a good idea for how all this turned up like this or why we wound up at the front of it,” Lancer said in an annoyed tone. Why was he getting picked on so much that night?

“That question…” Archer started but didn’t finish. “My own answer is probably different, but it’s best answered for yourself.”

“Kinda lax way to take it,” Lancer commented more offhandedly this time. He shifted to rest his hands behind his head, closing his eyes.

“Then what did the other archer say?” Archer asked.

“He said something about it being bad luck.”

“Bad luck huh?” Archer repeated like he could test the idea by saying it himself. “Maybe it is.”

“You too?”

Archer sighed and laid down at Lancer’s side, his fingers netting together to rest just above his waist. He closed his eyes and almost looked peaceful for that brief second Lancer caught him. “If things were going well we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“Huh...I guess so. I wonder about why it’s us. You know, us both again,” Lancer said with a shred of hesitation.

Archer tensed a little beside him, his brow furrowed to completely do in that calm look. “You’d come running at the first chance to get into serious trouble.”

“Would I? Don’t you do that too?” Lancer countered with a cool tone.

There was only a grumble out of Archer in response. He let that sit for an uncomfortable moment. It was probably more complicated than either of them were willing to put it. Whatever “it” was. Lancer heard another sigh from him before suddenly Archer was on top of him, his hands pressed at his chest. A crooked grin spread his lips.

“Lancer, I have a deal to propose to you,” Archer began, already sounding like he’d cooked up something dangerous.Lancer was left stunned underneath him, arms out to try and push himself up, but wasn’t getting anywhere with Archer’s weight on him. “I’m willing to make you that omelette you want so much...for a price.”

“I don’t even want it that much!” Lancer said despite absolutely wanting it that much. “...What’s the price?”

Archer just kept grinning and soon shifted himself lower, closer, his lips soon nearly on Lancer’s like they had been in the hall. It felt that much hotter--slowly climbing hotter as Lancer braced himself for whatever was coming. Archer turned his head and kissed below Lancer’s ear, making a path down his neck. It crossed his mind that maybe Archer was really just in the mood tonight. It seemed like it in the hall. Lancer was about ready to relax and let him move on when Archer’s lips came back to Lancer’s ear to whisper.

“Tell me how much you want one.”

Just like that Lancer was all peeved again, letting out a frustrated groan. “I want one! Okay? Treat me this one time!”

Archer only laughed and sat himself up. He gave Lancer a friendly, almost affectionate pat at the middle of his chest and then stood himself up. It left Lancer sprawled on the bed, frazzled and more worked up than he wanted to admit he was. “That’s it?” Lancer asked.

“For now. You want one right? No one should bother us about it if we go now.”

There, at some absurd hour in the morning, the pair took to the kitchen alone, chatting a little as Archer made omelettes--as agreed. This time just Lancer could watch him work--how deftly he folded the egg over, how practiced every little move was, how easy he made it look. How cute he was in his apron. There was something soft about that early morning--something Lancer hoped he could hold onto for a long while yet.  

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Be My Baby Part 4

Summary: Charlotte goes by Charlie in the summer of 1963. Sebastian works at the resort her family is staying at. He teaches her how to dance.

Chapter Summary: Charlie spends the day with her sister and catches glimpses of Sebastian every so often. Then she hears something that breaks the spell.

Warnings: Swearing, smoking, usual 60′s sexism, mentions of homophobia, mentions of sex

Note: From now on, Scarlett is officially the lesbian friend we all need.

Chapter Four: Mama Said         

          Mama said there’ll be days like this

           And then she said someone would look at me

           Like I’m looking at you someday

           Then I might find out.

           When I woke up the next morning, I stayed laying there, staring at the ceiling. For a minute, I thought I had dreamed the whole thing up. The staff party was nothing more than a crazy dream and Sebastian hadn’t actually danced with me. But it was too real. I could still feel his hands on me. I had an active imagination, but it wasn’t that good.

           My sister came out of the small bathroom in the cabin and looked at me. “What are you doing?” She asked.

           “What?” I glanced over at her. “Nothing, I just woke up.”

           “Well, I’m going to the pool, do you want to come?” She offered. She was already throwing a sundress over her bikini.

           “Yeah, okay.” I nodded. I dug through my suitcase and found my swimsuit. I grimaced at the idea of wearing just that at the pool but I decided to suck it up. Most likely, all the boys would be eyeing my sister.

           I put on shorts and a t-shirt, ready to read in the shade by the pool. While my sister could get a glowing tan, I usually burned, despite my use of sunscreen. I grabbed my book, sunglasses, and a baseball cap.

           I followed my sister to the pool as she talked about how I missed the way Chris was looking at her at dinner the night before. I nodded and ‘ohed’ just to placate her.

           “Where were you last night, by the way?” She turned her attention on me as we walked up the path to the main hotel.

           “I wasn’t feeling well, I was in the cabin,” I replied, not meeting her gaze.

           “I went back to the cabin at seven to grab my lipstick, you weren’t there.” She accused.

           “I probably went for a walk then.” I shrugged. “What do you think I would be doing?”

           She seemed to agree with that. I certainly wasn’t the type to be found among a party, dancing with a handsome pianist. I sighed under my breath and something in my chest ached when I replayed the memory of Sebastian leaving me on the dance floor. I didn’t think it would actually hurt.

           Laurie and I arrived at the pool where many sunbathers were already setting up for the day. A few kids splashed around the pool and a lifeguard, who I vaguely recognized from the night before, sat by.

           “That’s Jeremy, he’s one of Chris’s friends,” Laurie whispered to me and nodded to the lifeguard.

           “Oh.” I unfurled my towel onto a chair. I made sure I was under an umbrella and sat down, tucking my knees up so I could rest my book against my thighs.

           “Charlie, aren’t you going to catch some sun?” My sister asked. “It’s beautiful out. You’re still so pale.”

           “I will.” I nodded but figured I probably wouldn’t leave my shade.

           Laurie pulled her sundress over her head and flicked her sunglasses over her eyes. She lay down a few feet away from me so she was in full view of the sun. She seemed to realize something and she leaned over to me. She tipped her sunglasses down so I could see her eyes.

           “If Chris walks by, let me know if he looks at me.” She whispered.

           I cringed at the idea of watching out for my sister’s crush but I nodded. “Okay.” I agreed reluctantly.

           She smiled and lay back down. “Maybe we’ll find a nice boy for you here.” She said. “You know, sometimes mom thinks you’re not into boys.”

           “Because I’m focused on bigger things?” I asked as I started to read.

           “I guess, but you also don’t dress up very much. You would be so pretty if you wore makeup too. I could teach you, you know.”

           “No thanks.”

           “Well, just try to be a little more feminine. You know, she’s worried that you’re going to end up like that woman in town. You know, the one who lives with that other woman? There are rumors that…”

           “Laurie, there’s nothing wrong with that.” I interrupted. “It’s their private life, they’re allowed to do whatever they want. This is 1963, not the 1700’s.” I muttered.

           “I guess you’re right.” She didn’t seem to hold any discriminating ideas; she just passed along the gossip like my mother. I wondered if that was just as harmful. “Love is a beautiful thing.” She sighed.

           I rolled my eyes and went back to reading. “Try to have an open mind, Laurs.”

           “I’ll try to be like you.” She smiled slightly. “Equality for all.”

           “Exactly,” I said firmly. “People are so bigoted, I can’t believe it. Did you hear what that woman said at dinner to me? ‘You’re too pretty, blah, blah, blah’.” I mimicked a high-pitched voice. “’Let a man take care of you’.”

           My sister laughed. “Charlie, I don’t think any man or woman would be able to take care of you. You’re too…independent.”

           “I don’t need anyone to take care of me…” My voice faded as I saw Sebastian enter the pool area. Again, he was wearing the same polo shirt and khaki shorts as the rest of the boys. He walked up to Jeremy and said something. They exchanged a few words and a laugh. Sebastian turned and seemed to catch my eye for a moment.

           I panicked and ducked my head so the brim of my ball cap would hide my eyes.

           “Wouldn’t it be nice to have a husband who cared for you?” Laurie asked.

           “I don’t know, maybe,” I muttered, not too focused on the conversation.

           “Well, at least that was a maybe. You don’t want to be an old spinster.”

           I dared to glance up again and caught Sebastian walking out of the gate. I sighed a mix of relief and disappointment. Part of me wanted to march up to him and ask why he just left me the night before, and part of me wanted to never see him again.

           As the morning wore on, Laurie got hungry and dragged me up to the hotel to get a snack. I thought I caught another glimpse of Sebastian but I couldn’t be sure. My mind was probably playing tricks on me. We returned to the pool for another two hours but then Laurie got bored. First, we walked to the lake to watch some people sailing, my sister asked around where Chris was. Once she got a definitive answer that he was in the ballroom, she yanked me back up to the main hotel.

           A few elderly couples were taking a dance class led by a blonde woman a little older than Laurie. I realized this was probably the Scarlett that Sebastian had referenced. She was gorgeous, with a slim waist, long legs, and stunning green eyes. I watched for a bit as she taught the couples a through the dance steps. She definitely had a better rhythm than I did.

           Laurie found Chris who was idling around the ballroom area. They talked a bit as I hung around, unsure of what to do. My sister may have annoyed me but she was someone I could follow.

           I caught some movement near Scarlett and I saw Sebastian walking towards her. He said something briefly to her before moving on. I turned, hoping again he wouldn’t see me.

           Once the dance class ended, Chris and Laurie continued talking. I got bored beyond belief and decided to go outside. I wandered towards the back of the hotel again, coming to the building where the party was. It looked very different in broad daylight. The energy was much calmer and less daunting. I heard some people chatting and I glanced around the corner. I saw Sebastian and Scarlett, leaning against the wall smoking. I quickly jumped back so they wouldn’t see me. But I lingered. I wanted to hear what they said.

           “I saw you dancing with that girl last night,” Scarlett said in a deeper voice that was undeniably attractive.

           “Yeah, she’s that doctor’s daughter. The Downey’s know them. The older sister’s been hitting up Chris. He’s totally smitten over her.”

           I stored the knowledge away for later. I was sure my sister would be pleased to know that Chris shared some feelings for her, albeit puppy love, no doubt. I was still curious to hear what he thought about me.

           “So now you’re smitten over the baby of the family?” Scarlett laughed good-naturedly. “Maybe you two will marry and you’ll come into all that money.”

           “Fuck off. She’s just a kid.” He replied.

           “She looks like she’s at least eighteen. You’re can’t be much older than her.”

           “She is eighteen, and that doesn’t matter. She’s so…innocent. I didn’t think there were actually girls like her.” He replied. “I felt guilty by even touching her. I don’t think she’s had a guy within thirty feet of her.”

           “Oh shut up, you act like you’re this rogue manly male who taints all the virgin daughters of guests. You can play bad boy all you want, you still have feelings.”

           I could smell the cigarette smoke and it was making me sick. Of course, it could’ve been from the way he was talking about me too.

           “She’ll find herself a nice, wealthy boy from a nice, wealthy family. They’ll get married, have a boatload of kids, and die. I’m not going to pretend that her future hasn’t already been planned out for her.”

           “She could dance.”

           “Not initially.”

           “But she got into it. I could see the way you two moved. I’m a dance instructor, Sebs.”

           “So what?”

           “So, maybe she’s got a wild side to her. Give her a good summer, make her feel adventurous and reckless. I’m sure she’s just like every one of those suffocated pretty girls. Their families keep them on a tight leash and all they want to do is explore. Fall will come around and she’ll leave.”

           “So, exploit her, that’s what you’re saying?”

           “No, give her a good time. You said it yourself; she probably hasn’t had much experience with guys. Maybe you’ll be her sexual awakening.”

           “I’m not going to fuck her, Scarlett.”

           “That’s not what I said.”

           “Why don’t you give her a good time? Lord knows you like to show girls the other side to love.”

           Scarlett snorted. “As much as I would love to, I don’t think I’ll be her type. I saw the way she looked at you. But if she ever tells you she swings both ways, let me know.”

           “You’re gross sometimes, did you know that?”

           “Sebastian, it’s 1963. I don’t know when I’ll be able to be outward with whom I am. Hell, Anthony doesn’t even get paid as much as we do. This world is a fucking mess. If I have to be a little dirty about how I go about it, then I do. It’s not my fault I have to live in the shadows. Don’t you think I would love to be openly going out with a girl?”

           Sebastian sighed. “Alright, I’m sorry. If I spend more time with her, would that make you happy?”

           “Yes. And if she wants a threesome.”

           “That’s where I draw the line.”

           Scarlett laughed. “I just wanted to see the look on your face. Priceless, may I add.”

           I heard them walking and I backed away. My mind was spinning. Was Sebastian going to…what? What? Play with me? Make me feel special just as a charity case? I ran back to the cabin, totally confused and at odds with myself. Part of me wanted to indulge in whatever he was planning, but part of me wanted to stay strong and independent. I was not some plaything for him.

           “He can try whatever he wants,” I muttered to myself. “I’m not letting him get the satisfaction.”

//I will not have my oc chasing after bad boy Sebastian Stan. He will have to do some work. Welcome to my interpretation of Dirty Dancing. It is very strange

Masterpost

[darkfanfic]

KNOCKOUT - chapter 10 (part 2A)

“Sure.”

Harry’s flat is in walking distance of the gym. They decide to take the scenic route, through the pretty wooded park and past an almost empty playground until the pair hit a main drag. It’s car horns and traffic lights for a good five minutes before the city quietens upon making a right.

They turn down a quiet street off the busy main road and the chill that whistles between them has Bo wish she’d brought something a little warmer. It was a mistake to take her hair down after the class as now it’s stinging her cheeks. She steps closer to Harry as they pass a dog walker before they come to a complete stop outside a gate.

Heavy dark clouds loom, gobbling up the twinkle of stars as night descends in a hurry. She’s busy watching the sky transform, head tilted back until her name is called.

“Bo.”

Harry’s made the short journey from gate down to the front door and he waits for her to meet him at the bottom. The hand he raises in invite has her moving towards him through a thought once lost, legs walking a muscle memory. It would be hopeless to think she’d react in any other way but to go to him, to take his hand and let him lead her inside.

It’s warm, is the first impression Bo gets of the garden flat. A disorganised muddle of shoes is left just inside the door, and Bo adds to it as she toes hers off. She dumps her bag where harry leaves his before she’s free in her visual assessment. There’s peeling wallpaper, nicks of paint missing from the skirting board and original door frames with stiff brass handles. And Bo instantly loves it.

It’s disorderly and incomplete in a charming sort of way, which makes his previous flat pale in comparison. A sourness seems to fill her mouth upon remembering just how awful his conditions were before, no room to breathe with misery creeping in from every corner.

But here, it’s an easy sort of living space, one that he’s made home by just being there. It already smells of him, like this little flat has accepted Harry and approved of his occupancy.

There’s not much occupying the first room in the way of furniture, just cardboard boxes of varying sizes that Bo has a suspicion he’s let become a permanent fixture through simply being bone idle.

An old fashioned radiator is tucked into one of the alcoves opposite the door, a heavyset one that will throw out heat throughout the basement flat in the winter.

“There’s not much to see, but this is the front room. The kitchen is just through there and my bedroom and bathroom are across the hall.”

It’s almost as if he’s waiting for some sort of approval, standing off to the side as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“It’s a great place.”

Despite its quirky flaws, this would have been Bo’s first choice for a place of her own.

He grins.

“I have a garden, too. It’s not much but my mum and sister are going to help with doing it up a bit. Even if it’s just finding the patio under all the weeds.”

Bo had never thought in all the time she’d known him, Harry would ever get excited over a scrap of lawn and some crazy-paving. But she gradually comes to understand the fascination as he rambles about having his niece over and his plans for one of those fancy fire bowls. She makes a mental note of the possible gift for his new home. Well, more of a garden-warming present if you’re being fussy.

They stay within the living room so Bo can explore a little more. And with that inquisitive feeing harnessed, she sets about unpacking a box containing two lamps, a pack of brand new coasters (courtesy of Harry’s sister) and a small elephant ornament selected especially by his niece for the coffee table.

Harry chats as she fights with the sticky tab sealing the coaster box. But after a few short seconds it’s neglected because there’s a record player placed on the floor in a wall alcove, just to the left of some boxes overspilling with disks.

“It’s a bit hipsterish for you, isn’t it?” Bo teases, nodding towards the musical mess.

Her nose crinkles as she grins at Harry over her shoulder before dropping to her knees in front of the boxes. There’s a few records propped up against the peeling paint, music which Bo guesses were some of the first to christen Harry’s new place.

“Can I have a look?” she asks.

“Couse,” he continues. “It was a ‘congrats on your new home’ gift from my mum. Those old records are from the loft, I’ve not sorted through them yet.”

Bo’s fingers flick through the ageing sleeves; evidence of how they were used and adored very much apparent on the worn cardboard cover, a contrast to the unscathed disk.

“You’ve got some good ones.”

Harry’s mum was feisty. Straying away from the popular, more documented, trends in music and delving into bands and genres Bo’s never heard of. She flips a disk over to study the song listings.

“Just some?”

Bo hears the amusement in his voice but the pride on his mouth is out of her line of sight.

“I don’t know most of them,” she admits, running her fingers over another mysterious album title.

“My mum had an eclectic taste, still does.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say she was a fan of Rod Stewart,” she comments, flicking through five consecutive albums.

“If you want my body and you think I’m sexy.” The gravelly tone is enough of a musical interlude to cease her movement through the disks. Bo bursts out laughing, falling back on her butt and turning to witness Harry’s little performance.

“Come on, sugar, let me know.”

His deep bow finishes the ensemble and Bo almost feels like she should applaud. And that’s what she does as Harry dramatically basks in the praise.

  “Good job I actually know that song, or I’d have thought you were coming on to me.”

“The night’s still young,” he counters and it’s to Bo’s surprise that she’s the recipient of a cheeky wink.

The gesture is enough to have her blushing cheeks think she’s being flirted with. A harmless game Bo thought she had become immune to, after hearing cheesy icebreakers in bars and no longer laughing at them.

Her face still feels warm with playful atmosphere when she lifts her head and finds Harry’s hand outstretched. She takes it without hesitation, allowing herself to be hoisted upright into the perimeter of Harry’s body. Too close to be considered casual and torturous on Bo’s senses.

With a smile like a siren song and stormy, green ocean eyes to match, it’s somehow  difficult for Bo to try and find her sea legs.

“Alright?” he murmurs.

And that about does it. With a couple of adamant nods Bo pulls away before something ridiculous happens, like her telling him she misses the way his mouth fit with hers.

“What colour are you painting it in here?” Bo asks, fingers grazing the sofa arm, heart positively thundering as she meanders to the other side of the room.

She’s glad to see Harry provide some distance, taking the temptation away as now she’d have to volt the back of the couch to jump his bones. It isn’t the sofa from the old flat, this one is a bit ostentatious in the pattern with scuffed wooden feet. And as Bo sits, it’s like falling into a marshmallow, squishy, soft and the perfect place to take a nap.

“A mate sold it to me for cheap,” Harry answers her unasked question, watching as Bo takes to her feet again before rearranging the cushions. “As for the colour, I was just going to leave it as is.”

Bo frowns, swivelling to look at him, still with fringed cushion in hand.

“Why?”

“It’s rented, I’m not sure my landlord would want me slapping paint on the walls. I’m hoping he’ll let me buy it when I get the funds together.”

Harry stands leaning against the doorframe, watching as Bo investigates his new living room. There’s not much in the way of furniture at the moment, but Harry had made sure the first items unpacked were framed photos of his mum, sister and niece.

“I’d have it a really soft green.”

Bo hums as if imagining the transformation of the room with a new splash of colour.

“Yeah?”

The wooden floor creaks slightly with her movement as she gravitates to a focal point.

“Mmm, and I’d make that into a proper window seat so you could wake up with a cup of tea and just sit,” Bo nods at her plan. “Oh, it could be a reading window!”

“I don’t really read,” Harry admits, her face softening. “I listen to audio books now.”

The atmosphere quietens and Bo feels silly for raising the subject. That is until Harry opens his mouth again.

“Or hey, it would be a nice spot for a quickie.”

Bo rounds so fast she nearly stumbles into one of the many unpacked boxes by her feet. She stables herself with an outstretched hand to the wall.

“What?” she chokes.

He wanders over to the window, pressing his palms flat to the wooden sill to test its weight capacity.

“Well,” Harry makes a pained face, “if you’re both like olympic gymnasts or something.”

The space in nowhere near his full arm span, a measure he frowns at when trying to swing his feet up. They end up propped against the wall with his back pressed opposite, Harry folds himself into an unnatural position for someone of his height. He looks like a giant dog trying to squeeze begrudgingly into a cat bed.

“Get some cushions or something, it’d be perfect.”

“It’s the window though,” Bo admonishes, worrying her bottom lip and trying not to smile.

“Below street level.” Harry’s counter challenge is coupled with a shrug.

“Yes, but still a window,” she presses.

“My neighbours are old and fucking nosey, would give’em something to gossip about at their neighbourhood watch meetings.”

He makes quite the scene unravelling to stand at his full height before moving away from the sex-seat to the doorway, where he disappears through it moments after.

Bo’s left in a whirlwind contemplation before Harry pops his head back through.

  “Are you hungry?”

“Sure,” she agrees, still fighting the smile curling the corners of her mouth as the conversation snappily changes from sex to food.

“I’ve not really had time to food shop,” Harry calls through from the kitchen. “Are you alright with a take-away? I think I have a leaflet somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” Bo responds, weaving her way towards his voice.

Harry’s busy with riffling through take-out phablets when she reaches him. The kitchen is small but manageable with the window opening out onto a decreasingly gloomy garden. He sorts the menus from the addressed post before turning to Bo stood in the doorway.

“Are you alright? You look a bit pink in the cheeks.”

With her mind still dwelling on Harry’s idea of a window seat, it’s the only way she’ll be able to settle her thoughts.

“Can I ask you a question?”

Despite the nod to his head, Bo thinks he looks a little reluctant to hear her what she has to ask.

“When was the last time you were with someone?”

The immediate response she receives is a crinkled brow and full assessing gaze.

“I saw Matt from the gym the other day, we went to the pub just down -“

“No, I mean - romantically,” Bo attempts to delicately approach the subject, despite the tightness in her stomach and dampness of her palms. And once again, she receives a nonverbal, cryptic answer through somewhat of a pained facial expression. “Sex, Harry,” she blurts. “I mean when did you last have sex?”

“Shit.”

Eyes wide, he takes a few seconds to ground himself and try to decide the best approach. He clears his throat like he’s not just chocked at her question. “We’re just diving right in then?”

“You don’t have to tell me, I jus-“

“It’s been a while,” Harry interrupts. “Long time,” he swallows. “You want Chinese or Indian?”

“It’s just, what you said in the living room,” she aimlessly thumbs back through the doorway.

“It was a joke.”

He’s a little firm with his reply and it makes Bo feel guilty for asking.

“Oh, ok.”

“Did you want pizza, I think I have a app?”

Harry turns away to pick up his phone and Bo’s left trying to decipher what defines a ‘long time’. Not that it should really matter, they haven’t been together for nearly four years and she’s not entitled to the information anyway.

As if trying to shake her from her thoughts, Harry pulls up the app before waving it enticingly. She huffs a laugh before grazing his left side and standing with him to scroll through choices.

“The meat tastes weird on those pizzas,” Bo informs him, scrunching her nose. “If we share and go half and half, I want mine margarita. If we order the chicken, you get a free dip.”

Harry’s head is bobbing like a nodding dog on a car dashboard. The lights are on, but Bo can be pretty sure that nobody’s home at the moment.

“How long for you?”

“Huh?”

“Since you slept with someone.”

Oh.

Bo’s eyes shoot to the ceiling as if performing maths off the top of her head. Stupidly, she hadn’t expected this, hadn’t begun to think that his thoughts might stray to her bedroom antics.

“Umm, well,” she begins.

Harry pockets his phone, the prospect of food instantly forgotten as his full attention gravitates to Bo and her inability to hold his eye contact. She feels flushed for a second, checking to see if the window is open.

“You told me you’d never had sex with James.”

“It wasn’t James. It was only the once.”

He moves closer, stumped by the look on his face, Bo isn’t quite sure how this conversation will pan out. All she can hope is that it ends quickly without any emotional casualties.

“With whom?”

Of course he’d ask, but why should it matter? Why should she have to explain her sleeping arrangements to a man she hasn’t had a relationship with in years. Heat prickles at the back of Bo’s neck as Harry stands waiting for an answer. But it’s not a demand, it’s more of a concern for him.

“Someone from my course. It was really early on in first year before we saw each other again.”

“Did you like it?”

Harry backs up a little after the words leave his mouth, shying away from the potentially hurtful answer as he bites the inside of his cheek. He knows it was a mistake to ask. Nevertheless, the question makes Bo’s stomach squirm because they’re both fully aware that the only experience she has to compare it with was with Harry. And wasn’t that the full experience package.

If Bo’s being honest, the guy was a pretty lousy lay. There wasn’t particularly anything special about the evening and the whole thing was wrapped up in under ten minutes. Apparently Harry had spoilt her when they were together.

“No complaints,” Bo replies, testing the waters.

“Was he at your graduation?”

It’s almost as if she can see him straining to remember faces from the crowds of graduates. And as he does so, the subtle inclination of his body towards hers is duly noted, as if trying to shelter but not stifle her.

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Just asking,” he clips, jaw drawing taut.

“He might have been, I didn’t talk to him though.”

It’s cruel to push him further, but she’s rather delighted in the physical reaction it’s provoking. There’s no joy in making him angry, but to tease. It might be fun.

“You may have seen him. Huge guy with blond hair and as tall as the doorframe, biceps the size of my thighs. I think he’s a little bit older, too.”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts.

Bo hums. His expression is tight as he mulls over the information and comes to a conclusion she will admit she wasn’t expecting.

“Sounds like you shagged Thor.”

Bo can’t prevent the smile from creeping up on her, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink.

“I didn’t like it.”

There’s concern plastered on Harry’s face upon hearing her confession.

“No, I just didn’t enjoy it,” she pauses. “It wasn’t - I’ve had better,” Bo admits before she can really process the meaning behind the words. Had better.

She’s a little mortified by the knowing tug at the corner of Harry’s mouth. And before she can say anything else he’s displaying a full on smirk.

“Piss off,” Bo thumps his arm and he takes the hit with a dramatic stagger away. “You know what I mean. He was shit, I didn’t enjoy it and it was really awkward afterwards seeing him in lectures and stuff. It didn’t go any further.”

A few seconds more and the spirited exchange takes a nosedive.

“What about us?” Harry carefully asks from across the kitchen table.  

“I don’t think it was the right time for us then.”

In the months post their reconciliation, Bo had exams to prepare for and lecturers to impress with heavily researched essays. All on top of social expectations and a house search for second year which was a steep learning curve. Finding anything half decent, which didn’t once have a zoo in the back garden or actually had a properly functioning electric meter was practically a miracle.

And during that time, Harry was in no man’s land, between stages of his life that felt like the odd, uncertain few days between Christmas and new year. He was on the brink of a fresh start but was teetering on the edge just waiting for the push. Bo couldn’t have known at the time, but she was the catalyst; a WhatsApp message of,

“I made too many pancakes for pudding because I was thinking of you. Tiff ate yours. I miss you.”

“And now?” Harry asks, turning the silver ring on his index.

“Well now,” Bo starts, worrying her lip with if what she’ll say will be a push too far. “Now, I want you to kiss me.”

“Right now?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

They both jolt when Harry’s foot catches the chair leg, his stride determined before he comes to stand in front of her. Bo peers at him, head tilted back slightly to assess any emotions he lets slip through the crease between his brows or the pout he used to try and hide when something was amiss. As it is, he’s not giving her much to work with.

The disappointment she feels settles heavy in her stomach when a kiss is instead pressed to her forehead. A feeling that soon edges to mortification and shame that she’d pushed him too far, cornered him into a situation he isn’t ready for.

“Harry, I’m sor-“

The apology is stolen from her lips by the softness of his as another sweet kiss is placed high on her right cheek. Then proceeds a series of kisses, the last pressed to the tip of her nose which entices a giddy sort of smile, especially when he rubs his nose to hers.

“I’ve missed you.”

- 

All credits go to han-rawr

[dark128]

KNOCKOUT -chapter 10 (part 2A)

“Sure.”

Harry’s flat is in walking distance of the gym. They decide to take the scenic route, through the pretty wooded park and past an almost empty playground until the pair hit a main drag. It’s car horns and traffic lights for a good five minutes before the city quietens upon making a right. 

They turn down a quiet street off the busy main road and the chill that whistles between them has Bo wish she’d brought something a little warmer. It was a mistake to take her hair down after the class as now it’s stinging her cheeks. She steps closer to Harry as they pass a dog walker before they come to a complete stop outside a gate.

Heavy dark clouds loom, gobbling up the twinkle of stars as night descends in a hurry. She’s busy watching the sky transform, head tilted back until her name is called. 

“Bo.”

Harry’s made the short journey from gate down to the front door and he waits for her to meet him at the bottom. The hand he raises in invite has her moving towards him through a thought once lost, legs walking a muscle memory. It would be hopeless to think she’d react in any other way but to go to him, to take his hand and let him lead her inside. 

It’s warm, is the first impression Bo gets of the garden flat. A disorganised muddle of shoes is left just inside the door, and Bo adds to it as she toes hers off. She dumps her bag where harry leaves his before she’s free in her visual assessment. There’s peeling wallpaper, nicks of paint missing from the skirting board and original door frames with stiff brass handles. And Bo instantly loves it. 

It’s disorderly and incomplete in a charming sort of way, which makes his previous flat pale in comparison. A sourness seems to fill her mouth upon remembering just how awful his conditions were before, no room to breathe with misery creeping in from every corner.

But here, it’s an easy sort of living space, one that he’s made home by just being there. It already smells of him, like this little flat has accepted Harry and approved of his occupancy.

There’s not much occupying the first room in the way of furniture, just cardboard boxes of varying sizes that Bo has a suspicion he’s let become a permanent fixture through simply being bone idle. 

An old fashioned radiator is tucked into one of the alcoves opposite the door, a heavyset one that will throw out heat throughout the basement flat in the winter.

“There’s not much to see, but this is the front room. The kitchen is just through there and my bedroom and bathroom are across the hall.”

It’s almost as if he’s waiting for some sort of approval, standing off to the side as he nibbles at his bottom lip.

“It’s a great place.”

Despite its quirky flaws, this would have been Bo’s first choice for a place of her own. 

He grins.

“I have a garden, too. It’s not much but my mum and sister are going to help with doing it up a bit. Even if it’s just finding the patio under all the weeds.”

Bo had never thought in all the time she’d known him, Harry would ever get excited over a scrap of lawn and some crazy-paving. But she gradually comes to understand the fascination as he rambles about having his niece over and his plans for one of those fancy fire bowls. She makes a mental note of the possible gift for his new home. Well, more of a garden-warming present if you’re being fussy.

They stay within the living room so Bo can explore a little more. And with that inquisitive feeing harnessed, she sets about unpacking a box containing two lamps, a pack of brand new coasters (courtesy of Harry’s sister) and a small elephant ornament selected especially by his niece for the coffee table. 

Harry chats as she fights with the sticky tab sealing the coaster box. But after a few short seconds it’s neglected because there’s a record player placed on the floor in a wall alcove, just to the left of some boxes overspilling with disks. 

“It’s a bit hipsterish for you, isn’t it?” Bo teases, nodding towards the musical mess. 

Her nose crinkles as she grins at Harry over her shoulder before dropping to her knees in front of the boxes. There’s a few records propped up against the peeling paint, music which Bo guesses were some of the first to christen Harry’s new place. 

“Can I have a look?” she asks.

“Couse,” he continues. “It was a ‘congrats on your new home’ gift from my mum. Those old records are from the loft, I’ve not sorted through them yet.”

Bo’s fingers flick through the ageing sleeves; evidence of how they were used and adored very much apparent on the worn cardboard cover, a contrast to the unscathed disk.

“You’ve got some good ones.”

Harry’s mum was feisty. Straying away from the popular, more documented, trends in music and delving into bands and genres Bo’s never heard of. She flips a disk over to study the song listings. 

“Just some?”

Bo hears the amusement in his voice but the pride on his mouth is out of her line of sight. 

“I don’t know most of them,” she admits, running her fingers over another mysterious album title. 

“My mum had an eclectic taste, still does.”

“Well, I think it’s safe to say she was a fan of Rod Stewart,” she comments, flicking through five consecutive albums. 

“If you want my body and you think I’m sexy.” The gravelly tone is enough of a musical interlude to cease her movement through the disks. Bo bursts out laughing, falling back on her butt and turning to witness Harry’s little performance.

“Come on, sugar, let me know.”

His deep bow finishes the ensemble and Bo almost feels like she should applaud. And that’s what she does as Harry dramatically basks in the praise.

  “Good job I actually know that song, or I’d have thought you were coming on to me.”

“The night’s still young,” he counters and it’s to Bo’s surprise that she’s the recipient of a cheeky wink.

The gesture is enough to have her blushing cheeks think she’s being flirted with. A harmless game Bo thought she had become immune to, after hearing cheesy icebreakers in bars and no longer laughing at them. 

Her face still feels warm with playful atmosphere when she lifts her head and finds Harry’s hand outstretched. She takes it without hesitation, allowing herself to be hoisted upright into the perimeter of Harry’s body. Too close to be considered casual and torturous on Bo’s senses. 

With a smile like a siren song and stormy, green ocean eyes to match, it’s somehow  difficult for Bo to try and find her sea legs. 

“Alright?” he murmurs.

And that about does it. With a couple of adamant nods Bo pulls away before something ridiculous happens, like her telling him she misses the way his mouth fit with hers. 

“What colour are you painting it in here?” Bo asks, fingers grazing the sofa arm, heart positively thundering as she meanders to the other side of the room. 

She’s glad to see Harry provide some distance, taking the temptation away as now she’d have to volt the back of the couch to jump his bones. It isn’t the sofa from the old flat, this one is a bit ostentatious in the pattern with scuffed wooden feet. And as Bo sits, it’s like falling into a marshmallow, squishy, soft and the perfect place to take a nap. 

“A mate sold it to me for cheap,” Harry answers her unasked question, watching as Bo takes to her feet again before rearranging the cushions. “As for the colour, I was just going to leave it as is.”

Bo frowns, swivelling to look at him, still with fringed cushion in hand. 

“Why?”

“It’s rented, I’m not sure my landlord would want me slapping paint on the walls. I’m hoping he’ll let me buy it when I get the funds together.”

Harry stands leaning against the doorframe, watching as Bo investigates his new living room. There’s not much in the way of furniture at the moment, but Harry had made sure the first items unpacked were framed photos of his mum, sister and niece. 

“I’d have it a really soft green.”

Bo hums as if imagining the transformation of the room with a new splash of colour.

“Yeah?”

The wooden floor creaks slightly with her movement as she gravitates to a focal point. 

“Mmm, and I’d make that into a proper window seat so you could wake up with a cup of tea and just sit,” Bo nods at her plan. “Oh, it could be a reading window!”

“I don’t really read,” Harry admits, her face softening. “I listen to audio books now.”

The atmosphere quietens and Bo feels silly for raising the subject. That is until Harry opens his mouth again. 

“Or hey, it would be a nice spot for a quickie.”

Bo rounds so fast she nearly stumbles into one of the many unpacked boxes by her feet. She stables herself with an outstretched hand to the wall.

“What?” she chokes.

He wanders over to the window, pressing his palms flat to the wooden sill to test its weight capacity.

“Well,” Harry makes a pained face, “if you’re both like olympic gymnasts or something.”

The space in nowhere near his full arm span, a measure he frowns at when trying to swing his feet up. They end up propped against the wall with his back pressed opposite, Harry folds himself into an unnatural position for someone of his height. He looks like a giant dog trying to squeeze begrudgingly into a cat bed. 

“Get some cushions or something, it’d be perfect.”

“It’s the window though,” Bo admonishes, worrying her bottom lip and trying not to smile.

“Below street level.” Harry’s counter challenge is coupled with a shrug.

“Yes, but still a window,” she presses. 

“My neighbours are old and fucking nosey, would give’em something to gossip about at their neighbourhood watch meetings.”

He makes quite the scene unravelling to stand at his full height before moving away from the sex-seat to the doorway, where he disappears through it moments after. 

Bo’s left in a whirlwind contemplation before Harry pops his head back through.

  “Are you hungry?”

“Sure,” she agrees, still fighting the smile curling the corners of her mouth as the conversation snappily changes from sex to food. 

“I’ve not really had time to food shop,” Harry calls through from the kitchen. “Are you alright with a take-away? I think I have a leaflet somewhere.”

“Yeah, that’s fine with me,” Bo responds, weaving her way towards his voice. 

Harry’s busy with riffling through take-out phablets when she reaches him. The kitchen is small but manageable with the window opening out onto a decreasingly gloomy garden. He sorts the menus from the addressed post before turning to Bo stood in the doorway.

“Are you alright? You look a bit pink in the cheeks.” 

With her mind still dwelling on Harry’s idea of a window seat, it’s the only way she’ll be able to settle her thoughts. 

“Can I ask you a question?”

Despite the nod to his head, Bo thinks he looks a little reluctant to hear her what she has to ask.

“When was the last time you were with someone?”

The immediate response she receives is a crinkled brow and full assessing gaze.

“I saw Matt from the gym the other day, we went to the pub just down -“

“No, I mean - romantically,” Bo attempts to delicately approach the subject, despite the tightness in her stomach and dampness of her palms. And once again, she receives a nonverbal, cryptic answer through somewhat of a pained facial expression. “Sex, Harry,” she blurts. “I mean when did you last have sex?”

“Shit.”

Eyes wide, he takes a few seconds to ground himself and try to decide the best approach. He clears his throat like he’s not just chocked at her question. “We’re just diving right in then?”

“You don’t have to tell me, I jus-“

“It’s been a while,” Harry interrupts. “Long time,” he swallows. “You want Chinese or Indian?”

“It’s just, what you said in the living room,” she aimlessly thumbs back through the doorway.

“It was a joke.”

He’s a little firm with his reply and it makes Bo feel guilty for asking. 

“Oh, ok.”

“Did you want pizza, I think I have a app?”

Harry turns away to pick up his phone and Bo’s left trying to decipher what defines a ‘long time’. Not that it should really matter, they haven’t been together for nearly four years and she’s not entitled to the information anyway.

As if trying to shake her from her thoughts, Harry pulls up the app before waving it enticingly. She huffs a laugh before grazing his left side and standing with him to scroll through choices.

“The meat tastes weird on those pizzas,” Bo informs him, scrunching her nose. “If we share and go half and half, I want mine margarita. If we order the chicken, you get a free dip.”

Harry’s head is bobbing like a nodding dog on a car dashboard. The lights are on, but Bo can be pretty sure that nobody’s home at the moment. 

“How long for you?”

“Huh?”

“Since you slept with someone.”

Oh.

Bo’s eyes shoot to the ceiling as if performing maths off the top of her head. Stupidly, she hadn’t expected this, hadn’t begun to think that his thoughts might stray to her bedroom antics. 

“Umm, well,” she begins. 

Harry pockets his phone, the prospect of food instantly forgotten as his full attention gravitates to Bo and her inability to hold his eye contact. She feels flushed for a second, checking to see if the window is open. 

“You told me you’d never had sex with James.”

“It wasn’t James. It was only the once.”

He moves closer, stumped by the look on his face, Bo isn’t quite sure how this conversation will pan out. All she can hope is that it ends quickly without any emotional casualties. 

“With whom?”

Of course he’d ask, but why should it matter? Why should she have to explain her sleeping arrangements to a man she hasn’t had a relationship with in years. Heat prickles at the back of Bo’s neck as Harry stands waiting for an answer. But it’s not a demand, it’s more of a concern for him. 

“Someone from my course. It was really early on in first year before we saw each other again.”

“Did you like it?”

Harry backs up a little after the words leave his mouth, shying away from the potentially hurtful answer as he bites the inside of his cheek. He knows it was a mistake to ask. Nevertheless, the question makes Bo’s stomach squirm because they’re both fully aware that the only experience she has to compare it with was with Harry. And wasn’t that the full experience package. 

If Bo’s being honest, the guy was a pretty lousy lay. There wasn’t particularly anything special about the evening and the whole thing was wrapped up in under ten minutes. Apparently Harry had spoilt her when they were together.

“No complaints,” Bo replies, testing the waters. 

“Was he at your graduation?”

It’s almost as if she can see him straining to remember faces from the crowds of graduates. And as he does so, the subtle inclination of his body towards hers is duly noted, as if trying to shelter but not stifle her. 

“What’s with all the questions?”

“Just asking,” he clips, jaw drawing taut.

“He might have been, I didn’t talk to him though.”

It’s cruel to push him further, but she’s rather delighted in the physical reaction it’s provoking. There’s no joy in making him angry, but to tease. It might be fun. 

“You may have seen him. Huge guy with blond hair and as tall as the doorframe, biceps the size of my thighs. I think he’s a little bit older, too.”

“Yeah?” Harry grunts. 

Bo hums. His expression is tight as he mulls over the information and comes to a conclusion she will admit she wasn’t expecting. 

“Sounds like you shagged Thor.”

Bo can’t prevent the smile from creeping up on her, cheeks tinted a light shade of pink.

“I didn’t like it.”

There’s concern plastered on Harry’s face upon hearing her confession. 

“No, I just didn’t enjoy it,” she pauses. “It wasn’t - I’ve had better,” Bo admits before she can really process the meaning behind the words. Had better.

She’s a little mortified by the knowing tug at the corner of Harry’s mouth. And before she can say anything else he’s displaying a full on smirk. 

“Piss off,” Bo thumps his arm and he takes the hit with a dramatic stagger away. “You know what I mean. He was shit, I didn’t enjoy it and it was really awkward afterwards seeing him in lectures and stuff. It didn’t go any further.”

A few seconds more and the spirited exchange takes a nosedive. 

“What about us?” Harry carefully asks from across the kitchen table.  

“I don’t think it was the right time for us then.”

In the months post their reconciliation, Bo had exams to prepare for and lecturers to impress with heavily researched essays. All on top of social expectations and a house search for second year which was a steep learning curve. Finding anything half decent, which didn’t once have a zoo in the back garden or actually had a properly functioning electric meter was practically a miracle.

And during that time, Harry was in no man’s land, between stages of his life that felt like the odd, uncertain few days between Christmas and new year. He was on the brink of a fresh start but was teetering on the edge just waiting for the push. Bo couldn’t have known at the time, but she was the catalyst; a WhatsApp message of,

“I made too many pancakes for pudding because I was thinking of you. Tiff ate yours. I miss you.”

“And now?” Harry asks, turning the silver ring on his index. 

“Well now,” Bo starts, worrying her lip with if what she’ll say will be a push too far. “Now, I want you to kiss me.”

“Right now?”

“If it’s not too much trouble.”

They both jolt when Harry’s foot catches the chair leg, his stride determined before he comes to stand in front of her. Bo peers at him, head tilted back slightly to assess any emotions he lets slip through the crease between his brows or the pout he used to try and hide when something was amiss. As it is, he’s not giving her much to work with. 

The disappointment she feels settles heavy in her stomach when a kiss is instead pressed to her forehead. A feeling that soon edges to mortification and shame that she’d pushed him too far, cornered him into a situation he isn’t ready for. 

“Harry, I’m sor-“

The apology is stolen from her lips by the softness of his as another sweet kiss is placed high on her right cheek. Then proceeds a series of kisses, the last pressed to the tip of her nose which entices a giddy sort of smile, especially when he rubs his nose to hers. 

“I’ve missed you.”

[blustersquall]

Need to get this out of my system, purely self-indulgent, i have no idea what, writing. But, given I haven’t written anything else for weeks, I’m taking what I can get.

Gladio meets a friendly bar own in the Crown City. Utterly self-indulgent. It’s not even fluff or remotely shippy. I just... wanted to write it, because it was an idea. Set maybe a year before the events of the start of FFXV. I’ve never written Gladio before. I know only a bit about the universe, because I have’t finished the game yet. I... just... idk. HERE.

One drink.

Gladio decided to stop off for one drink on his way home to the Citadel. One beer to unwind with after a long, shitty day. He didn’t just need it, he deserved it. It wasn’t often he chose to drink alone. More often than not, he would drink with other members of the Crownsguard – but today, after schlepping half way across the Crown City and back twice – he wanted to sit. Alone. With a cold beer and unwind.

Crown City was not lacking for bars. Any of the many that littered the crowded streets would have suited his needs, but for one reason or another he decided against the ones he walked passed. Either they were too crowded, too noisy, or looked to shady. He wanted somewhere small, quiet, and secluded.

The Caged Canary was one of many bars he had never visited before.

Tucked away between several other larger, more flashy establishments which boasted food and rare drinks from across Eos, Gladio wondered how the simple, rather old-fashioned looking place kept in business. It was a decent size, plenty of tall tables dotted around, some with stools for sitting. Other tables had patrons standing around them or leaning on them, checking their phones or chatting with friends. Towards the back were three pool tables all currently in use. Near the bar was a jukebox. Gladio wasn’t sure what he was more surprised by: seeing a jukebox itself or the fact it worked. Most bars and restaurants relied on in-house music systems streaming in from hidden speakers through wifi. To actually see a manually operated jukebox was rare.

That, and the fact the music coming from it didn’t absolutely suck might have been what made him decide to take a seat at the bar and wait to be served.

Typical of his training and the vigilance that came with it, he took note of everything. All the exits, anyone who looked like they could cause trouble, the people who were in groups, those who were alone, and the people in charge. He counted three bar staff, all women. One was out among the patrons collecting empty bottles and glasses, the two others were behind the bar serving and tidying as they went. One was clearly the owner or manager, from the way she delegated tasks to the other woman, and how quickly she dispensed with orders.

She threw a cursory glance in Gladio’s direction, and nodded to him with a brief smile to indicate, yes she’d noticed him sit down, and she’d be with him in a minute. He wasn’t in any rush. He leaned on the bar, allowing the atmosphere to sink in and the stress of the day to begin to seep out of his body.

It was two minutes, more or less, the music on the jukebox had changed from something upbeat to an old song, more mellow in its tone. Despite the people, conversation was quiet, broken only by the tap of a pool cue on a ball. The space around him became less crowded as patrons were given their drinks and dispersed to tables and company. The woman running the bar approached him, huffing a tuft of unruly dark hair out of her eyes.

“Hey,” she greeted with a smile. “Sorry for the wait. What can I get you?”

“Whaddya got?” rumbled Gladio, looking above her head at the board of what alcohol they had on offer.

“Depends what you’re in the mood for.” The woman replied. She turned and looked up at the board with him. “Something Lucian or more exotic?”

“Lucian.” Gladio said.

“Strong?”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Okay…” she tutted for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “I think I have something that might do. Gimme a tick.” She walked quickly down to the other end of the bar and ducked below to one of the fridges, removing a tall bottle from within. As she grabbed a glass and popped the cap off, she paused to answer another patron and then returned. With a smile on her face, she put the bottle and empty glass in front of him.

“Here. Comes in from Galdin Quay – one of their specialties.”

Gladio reached for the bottle and took a small swallow, testing the taste. It was ice cold – heavenly on his lips and as it slid easily down his throat. The condensation on the bottle dripped down his fingers. The pleasant, earthy taste sat on his tongue and in his mouth, slowly releasing  pleasing aftertaste which reminded Gladio, strangely, of nutmeg.

“So? Verdict?”

“Not bad.” He nodded his head and took another swallow. “What’s the damage?”

“Five gil,” she grabbed a cloth and began to wipe down the bar. “Or you can start a tab.”

Gladio paid her. He had no intention of staying for more than one drink, or returning to this bar again, so starting a tab made no sense.

He sat quietly, drinking from the neck of his beer, enjoying the easy, relaxed atmosphere and the mellowed music, not really thinking – which was a nice change. He noticed the bar beginning to empty out as he drank. A patron here, a small group there, and the numbers started to thin. He checked his phone and saw that it was later than he anticipated. Made sense for people to be moving on. Either going home, or staying out later to enjoy the Crown City nightlife.

He would finish his beer and continue on his way home.

“You’re not a familiar face,” the woman behind the bar surprised him when she spoke to him. He was contented with his drink and the music, and had been paying attention to little more than that.

“You know all the people who come in?” he asked, looking her over lazily.

“Not all of ‘em,” she shrugged her shoulders, wringing out her cloth, “but most we get in here are regulars. This is their watering hole. New faces kinda stand out. And yours kinda stands out a little bit more.” She indicated a line on her own face, meaning to point on the scar on his own.

“Mhm.” He chuckled a little, “yeah. I leave an impression.”

“I bet.” She leaned on the bar. “You get that in a brawl?”

“Nothing so exciting.” Laughed Gladio. He realised his beer was almost empty as he took another swig and put the bottle out in front of him. “This place yours?”

“Whether I like it or not.” The woman laughed, leaning back and looking over the place with a fond expression. “My parents place before me. And the grandparents before them. My folks are getting on a bit, so they’re in Altissia for their health. I took over about six months ago.”

“And the name?”

She gave a short snort of fond amusement through her nose. “The name of the play my grandfather first met my grandmother in.” She rolled her eyes a little, “an homage, as they say.”

“How does it stay in business?” asked Gladio, “it’s pretty small. And you’re not exactly in a great spot.” He began to turn the bottle between his hands, picking at the label. He needed to be going.

“Having regular customers helps,” she smiled again, “word of mouth. Tourists gettin’ lost. And… I’m guessing luck plays a big part, too. A lot of luck.”

“Maybe it’s a blessing of the Six.” Gladio suggested with a wry grin.

“Hah. I imagine the Six have far more important things to be doin’, than making sure this place stays in business.” She wandered a few steps away to serve another customer.

Gladio’s drink was finished. He felt pleasantly calmer and cooler, the alcohol having just enough of an effect on him to help unwind and let go of some of the stress of the day. He waited in his seat for the woman behind the bar to finish with her other customer. He didn’t need to, after all, they’d made idle small talk while she worked and he drank. She probably did it to all the customers, to make a lasting impression. Even so, he wanted to say thank you for the recommendation.

When he saw she was done, he caught her eye and waved her over.

“Same again?” she asked, picking up his empty bottle.

“Maybe some other time.” He sighed, heaving himself off the stool. “Thanks for the drink— I didn’t get your name?”

“Might be cause I didn’t give.” Her lips curled into a small, teasing smile, blue eyes shining up at him with quiet mischief, “I’ll give you mine, if you give me yours.”

Maybe it was the small amount of alcohol, or the easy going environment of the bar, but Gladio found himself laughing, both at her boldness and his own mild surprise. He offered his hand over the bar. “Gladiolus.”

“Isla.” She took his hand and shook it. “Nice to meet you, Gladiolus.” She added extra emphasis on his name. He found he liked it.

“Thanks for the drink, Isla.” He did the same, extra stress on her name as if to set it to memory. Her smile broadened ever-so-slightly and they dropped hands. “See you around.”

“I certainly hope so.” She retorted with one, last playful smile on her lips. Then she turned her attention back to tidying the bar.

As Gladio left, glancing back over his shoulder to see her watching him leave, he decided he should perhaps consider becoming a regular at The Caged Canary.

‘The Caged Canary’ is like a throw back to the play “I Want to Be Your Canary” in FFIX

Comments, reblogs, flailing in tags all appreciated. <3

[writings-from-the-wolf-den]

Alternate Reunion

The party was the most extravagant party Nick had been to in a long time. The high ceilings of the castle only made the ballroom appear even larger. The decorations matched the roof’s painting of how humans imagined the Forest of Beginnings on the ceiling. Nick found himself gazing at it with a sense of longing in his heart rather than at all of his guests mingling with each other. He knew that he was required to go down and dance, talk, and possibly flirt with the ladies that he could feel watching him, but he would rather just stay staring at the ceiling.

It was gorgeous and had always been his favorite part of the castle. It had been commissioned by his mother as a treat for the royal family, so it had been completed before Nick and his sister had been born. His Gramps said that the mural had been up on the ceiling for less than a year before his parents had eloped together. Gramps liked to wistfully state that that was where his daughter went. Maybe she and her lover had met her twin brother there.

Nick had thought that for the longest time too. He and his sister Cassy would point at the painting and claim they could see their mother hidden in the sparkling trees. The Forest of Beginnings always looked so fun. It would be the perfect place for mischievous twins or an eloping couple to run away to. Nick and Cassy pretended some days that they were in the Forest together and would sing childish lyrics of songs that Nick couldn’t remember to each other.

Now Nick only wondered if Alianna was there somewhere. It wasn’t where humans went when they died -at least, not to Nick’s religious beliefs- but Alianna hadn’t disappeared in the normal way. He had seen with his own eyes how the magic and the Runeys had bled off of her soul and floated away. Her golden soul had been almost too dazzling to look upon. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her the entire time she had faded away.

But Alianna wasn’t a monster. And Nick wasn’t so sure he would want her to be in the Forest of Beginnings anyway. She wouldn’t be able to meet her brother again if so. It would be nice if she could meet her lost twin again. If he listened hard enough, he could almost still hear her voice. The memory of it had faded faster than anything else even though her voice was all he’d had of her for the longest time.

“Nicky.” Nick dropped his chin so that he was brought back to the present. The music of the ballroom filled his ears instead of the ghosts of his past. His twin sister stood in front of him with her golden hair twisted and curled around her ear. She was lovely to look upon even to him, what with her bright green eyes, but she was even more lovely dressed up for the occasion. If only it was courting ball for her and not for Nick.

“What is it?” He asked. Her red lips turned down slightly at his tone. He sounded tired even to himself. He needed to put up some kind of front, he thought, but he could barely work it up.

“You have to mingle at some point.” She reprimanded him, albeit gently. “At least for appearance's’ sake.” That got a smirk to quirk onto his lips. Even when they weren’t trying to be, they were somehow on the same page.

“I know.” He sighed and glanced around. His food plate that he had gathered while in idle thought no longer appealed to him. If he left it there then the servants would take care of it quickly. It grated on him now, though, to be waited on hand and foot. Despite the fact that he had only lived from home for a mere five Years he had become used to caring for himself and picking up after himself. Six Years back in the castle had yet to return him to his previous state of acclimation.

“Where’s Gramps?” He asked as he noticed a distinct lack of the King’s presence. There was still quite a large crowd that he couldn’t see past, but usually Gramps would be hovering around Nick as well to check on him.

“Guiltily avoiding you, probably.” Cassy joked, crossing her arms. “He probably thinks you’re mad at him.”

“I’m not happy, that’s for sure.”

“He doesn’t want to put you through this anymore than you want to be part of it.”

“You don’t have to remind me of that. I’m well aware.” He turned from his sister then and got his attention caught by a waving hand. It took him a few moments to recognize who it belonged to because she appeared so different dressed up in her finest. His eyes widened.

“Nicky, you know why he did this.” Cassy placed a hand on his arm, not noticing his distraction. “It’s only for a couple of hours. Try to have fun?”

“I didn’t realize the news had spread so far that it had reached Trampoli.” Nick responded instead, waving back at Eunice. The poor woman seemed out of sorts surrounded by so many high-class people, but Nick appreciated the cultural designs and cut of her dress more than he liked the sparkling finery around him. It was like a breath of nostalgic air.

Cassy leaned forward to glance around the crowd. Her eyes found Eunice rather quickly considering how the larger woman stood out in her outfit. “Which one is that one? You never introduced me.”

“That’s Eunice. Listen, I’ll catch you later.” He spun Cassy around by her shoulders. “Go find a boyfriend. Maybe then you’ll become the queen and take the throne instead of me.”

Cassy groaned in mock annoyance. “Fiiiiiiiiiine!” She cried, and then shot him a smile. “Go say hello to your friends. Where there’s one, I’m sure there’s more. And promise to introduce me later!”

“Yeah, of course.” Nick promised, already off to meet up with Eunice. Her usual braids were piled on her head instead of hanging in short loops today. She seemed to be by herself, although she was chatting with another woman as Nick approached.

“Nick!” Eunice greeted when he was finally close enough. Her smile was bright, excited, and gentle all at once. She was a woman who would be a wonderful mother, Nick had thought in the past, and now it was even more obvious. She grew more and more confident in herself each day. “It is so wonderful to see you again!”

“Good evening, Eunice. I didn’t expect to meet you here.” She reached up to hug him. He blinked in surprise because the woman had usually been too shy to hug him in the past. He could feel her strength in her arms as well as her joy. It warmed him to know he was so welcome and hugged her back too before releasing her. Her smile was bright. “Are you here alone? Or did any of the others come with you?”

“Oh, many of the others came too.” She informed him. “They’re somewhere scattered around the ballroom. I saw Annette and Rosetta recently. They’re trying to promote tourism to Whale Island.”

“Really?” Nick asked, startled. “Tourism?”

“Yeah! It’s been very peaceful up there since . . . everything. So now the three of us have teamed up to spread the word! We’ve been getting a number of people. But anyway, it’s so hard to believe this is your home, Nick! It’s so beautiful!”

Nick gave a small laugh, smile more tense than he would like it. “It really is beautiful. I can’t say that I like it more than Trampoli, though.”

“The town grows on you quickly.” She agreed with a soft, knowing smile. They allowed a beat to pass, sharing the sentimentality of the small town, before Eunice suddenly recalled, “Oh! Nick, please, you haven’t met yet!” She turned to her companion. “This is Nick!”

For a moment Nick was utterly struck by the sight of the woman in front of him. Like Eunice she was dressed in the more cultural garb of the outskirts of Nick’s kingdom, but her outfit consisted of light blues that made her dark hair seem even darker. Her midnight blue eyes stood out from behind the frames of her glasses. The color reminded him of the blue colored crystal in the star-shaped charm in his pocket. In the light of the ballroom, her face seemed to glow with life and hidden joy. She had a small smile on her face but held none of the normal bashfulness that women usually held upon meeting him for the first time.

“Hello.” She greeted, voice quiet in the lively atmosphere of the party around them. There was something almost familiar about her.

“Hello. Have you lived in Trampoli long?”

“Only for the past couple of Years.” The lady admitted, pleased.

“The mayor didn’t give away my house, did she?” Nick teased Eunice, who had been looking back and forth between the two almost expectantly. What did she think was going to happen?

“Haha, no.” Eunice responded cheerfully.

“I moved into the small farm nearby.” The other woman informed him. “The grass was very tall and there’s a dungeon in my fields, but it’s nice for growing flowers.”

“Oh, so you fixed it up? It was kind of run down the last I saw it.” Nick asked.

“Kross helped a lot with it despite me not having many funds. The villagers have been very kind with it.”

“Of course we would be!” Eunice nodded. “Anything to help you.”

Nick remembered that the villagers, though all helpful, hadn’t exactly given him discounts or anything. But then again, he was a prince. He wouldn’t accept discounts either way. “Well, I’m glad to know I have some friends here. It helps make this event more bearable.”

“Oh dear. You’re not having a good time?” Eunice frowned, concerned.

“This is all one big show for neighboring royalty and the higher class to try to woo me and earn my hand. Unfortunately for them I’m not interested.” Nick confessed. His mind and heart were still back in Trampoli, although one had disappeared into the wind. He would take a quiet night during the dead of Winter surrounded by Runeys in the forest over the loud and popular party any time. The company had been better then.

“Then why have the party?” Eunice’s companion asked.

“Again, it’s a show.” He lowered his voice so only the two ladies could hear it, “Although none of my family actually expects me to choose a bride tonight anyway.” He raised his voice again. “Nonetheless, I have to go play my part. It’s been lovely meeting you both-”

“Then dance with me.” Eunice’s friend suggested quickly, already taking Nick’s hand into her own. “If anything, I can keep the others away from you a bit longer.”

“That’s a great idea!” Eunice agreed, also quickly. Nick’s suspicions raised just a little bit. Something was off about his friend, but he couldn’t quite name it.

“While I wouldn’t mind dancing with such a cute lady, I was hoping to go hunt down some of my other Trampoli friends too.”

The lady that was holding his hand blushed lightly before a slightly devious smile appeared on her lips, “If we gather enough of them, perhaps we can have only our villagers dance with you? That should keep your suitors away.” Her eyes slid over to Eunice and winked. “Not that none of the villagers would mind being your suitor as well.”

Nick couldn’t help his laugh at that, recalling the advances he had received while he had been in Trampoli. There had been a number of beautiful and available women his age despite it being such a small town, but it had never been the right time to try to flirt back then. And then he had been thoroughly distracted by the other woman in his life. Cassy had called it a waste when Nick had told her all of this in corresponding letters during his days living there, but there was no helping it.

“You’ve convinced me.” He told her. “Eunice, I will see you later. Enjoy the ball!”

“Of course! You enjoy as well!” Eunice shot a significant look to the both of them before she smiled and disappeared into the crowd.

Nick’s hand wasn’t released as he was led towards the dance floor and into his partner’s arms. She smiled at him as their feet instinctively took up movement together. She was just about on par with his height, so he could only gaze at her straight in the face as they flowed together. She stumbled a number of times over their movements, however. Nick silently corrected her as needed.

“I can tell you’re a country girl, my lady.” Nick teased gently.

“The dancing is really proper.” The lady sighed. “I prefer our dancing at the festivals.”

“They were certainly more lively.”

“You talk so proper.” She gazed at him with her dark eyes. It made his heart jump every time he saw them. They were such a striking shade. “I’m not used to it.”

“Gotta keep up appearances.” He allowed his formal tone to drop some. “No matter how stupid or how much is sucks.”

She laughed then, and Nick felt his cheeks warm at the sound. Not for the first time -and certainly not for the last time- he regretted that his heart was already so far lost from himself. She was someone that, in a past life, Nick would have been sure to sweet talk. She would look lovely on his arm, laughing like that as they walked together in happiness.

“Much better!” She praised. “But speaking of which . . . ‘Nick’ is such an . . . informal name for a prince. Is that really your name?”

“Yes. Well, rather, it’s what I prefer people to call me. I don’t like my full name.”

“What is it? Nicholai?” She teased.

“Ha! No. Close, though!”

“I’m playing. It has to be Nicholas.” His name rolled off her tongue like it belonged there. Then Nick realized just why she seemed so familiar to him. Her voice was similar to Alianna’s. It stung his brutalized and broken heart to hear her say his full name. He wouldn’t be able to bear it if she continued.

“Don’t call me that.” His voice was sharper than he had meant it, and it startled her. She blinked at him with wide eyes that had him make haste to apologize for. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. Just Nick is fine, please.”

“But I like Nicholas better.” She protested, somewhat warily but still with enough gall to say what she wanted. “It’s much nicer.”

“Yes, well, I don’t care.” He told her, shaken again hearing that name from her lips.

They danced in silence for a little while longer, but the pleasure from it had been rather drained. Finally the woman spoke again as if she didn’t have any self-preservation by asking, “Is it because Alianna called you Nicholas?”

Nick’s eyes narrowed at her warningly even as he responded stiffly, “You’ve lived in Trampoli long enough that I’m sure you’ve heard the stories. So you must also know that this isn’t a topic I’d like to talk about.”

“But I’m right?” She pressed.

Nick swallowed. He could hear his pulse in his ears. He didn’t like that someone was trying to get into his business like this. He liked the villagers of Trampoli, but this person wasn’t his friend. He barely knew her.

“Sorry.” She murmured, quieter now. There was sympathy in her face. “I’m pushing you too much. I don’t need to hear your answer to know.”

Nick wondered when the song would end so that he could escape. He refused to look the woman in the eyes anymore. Everything about her was painful. This was the reason he hadn’t gone back to Trampoli even though it had been too long. All of those wonderful sights only made him feel and he couldn’t handle constantly thinking about Alianna. At least the castle was a distraction. He was always busy with his work and chores and duties that he didn’t have a lot of time to regret. Now, though, it was being shoved in his face.

“Nicholas-”

“Stop.” He pleaded. “Stop calling me that. Just stop!” He dropped away from her body, stepping backwards away from her. The dancers around them startled and adjusted themselves to the statues in the middle of their dance floor. Many of them looked at him. Nick tried to rein in his emotions. He could feel hot tears in his eyes.

You cry so easily. Alianna had joked in the past. He dropped his head so his eyes could be hidden from the public view.

“This is going badly.” The woman murmured, just loud enough that Nicholas could hear her over the music, before his hand was grabbed again. He almost ripped his hand away, but the woman’s strength was surprisingly greater than he had expected. She dragged him off of the dance floor and through a door.

They were outside suddenly in the garden. The fresh air helped to refresh his heated thoughts and mind, but it only allowed for the tears to escape from his eyes finally. He wiped the tears away before the lady pulled to a stop and faced him, squeezing his hand.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I hadn’t realized the wound was still so fresh.” She apologized truthfully. Nick pulled his hand from hers, annoyed that he was breaking down so quickly and easily. “Nich-”

“Look,” he interrupted her before she could say his full name again. He felt like he would snap and yell if he heard it one more time. The gash in his chest was already bleeding; did she have to dig the knife in anymore? Six Years wasn’t long enough to recover. Nick wasn’t ready to recover, “just stop. You don’t even know me. I don’t know you. Just . . . stop acting like you know anything about me. I don’t want to hear it. I’m not in the mood.” He took a couple paces away from her, but he could hear her follow after him.

“It wasn’t fair of me to tease you like I did. I wasn’t doing it to be cruel, I swear.” The lady spoke quickly to get her point across before Nick could retreat more. He considered just leaving the party and going back to his room, but that would mean Gramps would just throw another party for him sooner. “I got too caught up in the moment playing my game not knowing that everything was still hurting you. I really am sorry for that.” She paused briefly to sigh. “The villagers also didn’t find my humor in good taste. I suppose I’m not used to being around others anymore.”

Nick turned to face her, but still refused to look at her. He closed his eyes to bite back the tears that continued to threaten and wiped what liquid was on his face. The Summer air was sticky, but the flowers of the garden were poignant and distracting. It was something else to focus on.

“N-” She stopped herself from what was no doubt his name again and instead said, “You haven’t asked me my name yet despite having been with me for so long.”

At this point Nick wasn’t so sure he wanted to know her name. It must have shown on his face as he responded, “No, I haven’t. Sorry.”

She didn’t seem to take this to heart. “I should have introduced myself earlier. I wanted to see if you could guess, but . . .” She stepped closer to him and reached towards his pocket. Nick flinched, about to step out of her reach, but her eyes stopped him. She paused, waiting to see if he would tell her to back off. Upon not receiving a command, she continued forward and gently pulled the chain hanging from his pocket.

“Hey-!” Nick protested, but she quickly said, “Don’t worry, I’m not stealing it. I’ll give it back, I promise.” He fell silent, suspicious.

The lady held the palm-sized jewel star necklace in her hand, running her fingers along the metal that edged the dark blue jewels of the star’s petals. She was quiet in her contemplation, eyes softer than Nick had seen on her yet, before she lifted her gaze back to him. “You’ve taken such good care of it . . . Thank you.”

Nick held out his hand to take it back from her. The atmosphere was different around them. It felt charged -almost as if there was a thunderstorm headed their way. She placed the jewel back into his hand, but didn’t release it as she gently grabbed his hand. She pulled herself closer to breathe in his space. She took the air right out of him. He no longer knew how he felt.

“Nicholas . . . It’s so great to finally meet you face to face. I’m glad I actually have a face to properly greet you with.”

Something shuddered in Nick’s chest. He couldn’t breathe. She didn’t just remind him of Alianna. But it was impossible. It was utterly impossible.

She laughed, but it was wet and choked as she fought her own emotions. He wondered what his expression was to cause her to look like that. “No, I swear. It’s really me. I promise.”

“Prove it.” His voice was so weak that he wasn’t even sure if she could hear it over the sounds of crickets and cicadas in the night. His grip tightened around hers. The metal of the necklace caused his hands to ache through his gloves. He must be hurting her as well.

She searched for a while, giving it a decent amount of thought before she finally granted him a rueful smile and said, “All those times I said I wasn’t looking while you were bathing in the hot springs? I lied.”

“You-!” Nick immediately cried, outraged, before it hit him at once knocking the breath out of him. “You . . . !” He swallowed a lump in his throat and felt his eyes well up again. This time he didn’t bother to stop them from overflowing as he gave his own watery laugh. “I knew it!” His head fell to her shoulder and he he began to cry in earnest. “I-I knew . . . I knew you were . . . You-you liar.”

Alianna finally released his hand to wrap her arms around his back and hold him tightly. Wracking sobs began to rip through his chest, shaking them both with the strength as he hugged her back. He felt as if his legs would give out against the onslaught of his own emotions.

She pressed a kiss to his hair as she held him through it. He could hear the tears in her voice as she said, “Finally I can hold you when you turn into a crying mess. You always cry so easily!”

“Shut up!” He reprimanded. Now that he couldn’t see her . . . now that he could only hear her voice so close to his ear . . . it was so obvious it was her. His memories were rushing around him. She refused to shut up, instead murmuring his name repeatedly when he could no longer speak.

He had so many questions for her, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. He couldn’t give up on the moment. He finally had her back. Somehow Alianna was there and he could hold her. That’ all that mattered.

[kitsunelokiversali]

Missive

Day 146 of 365 Writing Prompts:

I went rogue and wrote a fanfiction instead. So have some DCMK!

You can find the beginning of the series here. 

Blog and other prompt fills found here.

Fandom: Detective Conan/Magic Kaito

Pairing: None. Friendship fic

“Are you sure about this Shinichi?”

The young man quirked his lips in a stiff smile. “No.” Climbing out of the car, Shinichi pushed his finger along the bridge of his nose before realizing he wasn’t wearing glasses anymore. Another habit to break. Agasa idled beside him for a few seconds longer before shaking his head and driving away. It was a good thing he did. Shinichi wasn’t sure he wouldn’t run away.

Just across from him, oblivious to his stare, Ran chatted with a waitress. Steam rose from her cup, and a smile glinted at him through the clear window of the cafe. This was a part of her life Conan couldn’t touch. That he couldn’t touch. Ran, an adult by all rights, going to college and studying things Shinichi didn’t know about. Meeting people he didn’t know. Moving on at long last, without his weight holding her down. She deserved this. It was just hard figuring out if he meant the truth, or the bliss.

Strangers brushed past him and once again Shinichi felt out of place in his own body. He forgot he was taller than people once. His legs were too long, and his shoulders too broad. Shinichi couldn’t be brushed aside or overlooked anymore, and the joke was on him, because he wanted to hide. Even as the joint task forces that helped him bring down the Black Organization worked on the aftermath just across town, he could feel cold eyes brush the back of his neck. A glint of light off that woman’s necklace reflected the scope of a sniper in the building behind him. That man’s gait belied his killing intent. Every nameless face in the crowd felt like certain death, and Shinichi wondered if that would ever go away.

Rubbing the hairs on the back of his neck down, Shinichi took a deep breath and plunged into the cafe. Paranoia or no, he was actually getting strange looks for staring at someone through a window while he stood in the middle of a sidewalk. It looked like Kudou Shinichi had no idea how to not stand out.

After ordering his coffee, black of course, he marched over to Ran’s table. Sat down and stared right at her. Don’t back down. Even if she decides to roundhouse kick him back into Conan, he would let her. She hadn’t looked up from her book yet, and Shinichi calmed down as he drank in the sight of her. After that phone call, he hadn’t returned to her. Not as Shinichi. Conan avoided her too. Looking at her brown hair falling over her shoulders, and her eyes intent on whatever she was reading, Shinichi fell in love with her all over again. Somehow she had gotten more muscular, likely able to stabilize after becoming an adult. Ran kept up with karate. That was good to know, if a little terrifying.

She looked healthy; glowing skin, a tan from outdoor activities, and the slightest curve a ready smile even as she studied. If he had been better, Shinichi wondered, would she have—he cleared his throat. Would she have nothing. Moving on was good for Ran, and he had long proven his inability to rely on her if the abandoned letters under his bed meant anything. Finally, Ran looked up, and Shinichi stopped breathing. Perhaps this was a mistake, he thought. Perhaps he should have never shown up before her again and just let her look back on him as a memory of a young love. Perhaps a lot of things, but Shinichi believed in doing the right thing and running away would be far from it. So he pressed shaking hands down on twitching legs and forced his body to still. This moment belonged to Ran, whatever she wanted to do. He still hoped she didn’t send him away. Shinichi without Ran was a hard concept to imagine.

Her smile, hard-won from years he had taken from her, dropped into horror. Blue eyes widened, her pencil dropped. Ran stopped breathing too. Then, “Shinichi?” His eyes searched her face, looking for some sign that would just tell him it was all over. That when Ran said she was done waiting, that meant he was never supposed to come back at all. That they were strangers now. He nodded. Please let them not be strangers.

“Shinichi, you,” she leaned back into her chair hands grasping at air. Were they curling into fists? Or reaching out for him? The boy waited. “Shinichi,” he nodded, “Shinichi?” He nodded again. “Oh my God. It’s really—” Large tears began gathering in her eyes and she shot forward. No amount of determination could stay Shinichi and he flinched back. Despite his resolution to take as many hits as she wanted to give. 

The table toppled over, sending her books flying along with his coffee and her empty mug. As the porcelain scattered across the floor in pieces, Shinichi fell back as well. The woman slammed into the man, sending them both to the cold tile beneath them. His arms reached around her unbidden, to protect her from even that small harm. His back sent twinges up his spine, but none of that compared to the warmth of her arms around his shoulders. Her face buried in his neck. The whisper of her voice in his ear saying his name. Shinichi’s name. Not Conan’s. For the first time since returning to his body, Shinichi felt like he was in the right skin. His tensed shoulders dropped and Shinichi pressed his cheek into Ran’s hair.

Somehow she knew he was back for good this time. There was no underlying tension that this was going to end soon, and Ran wasn’t letting go this time. Not for the world. Above them, the waitress caught his eye and Shinichi waved her an apology. Apparently hugging your childhood best friend on the floor of a public business was frowned upon.

Nudging Ran, Shinichi smiled at her when she pulled back to stare at him again. “Hey.”

“Hey, he says,” she sniffled. “You stopped calling. I mean, I know that was—but you stopped and I was so worried! I shouldn’t have—”

“You should have.” Moving gingerly, he realized that fall hurt a lot worse than he thought. Shinichi pulled Ran to her feet then helped the waitress clean up after them before giving her his full attention. “I’m home. For good this time.”

Blush marring her cheeks, Ran threw her books into her bag and rushed them out of the cafe. They remained silent until they blended into the crowd outside. “Really? What about your big case?”

“Case closed.” He couldn’t resist the smirk, and she rolled her eyes gamely. His smile dropped, hers along with him as she stared at him. “I’m sorry for making you worry.” More went unsaid. The threats, fear, and death blended into a dark abyss always present in Shinichi’s mind and the back of his neck itched again. He wondered how long he would feel a target painted on his back.

Words failed them even as snippets of conversations passed all around them. Ran led them to a karaoke bar, so they could be alone. Whatever her questions, she knew they couldn’t be asked out in the world. They rented a whole room for themselves, but sat pressed side-by-side. Before, she never had the courage to hold his hand. Now she interlocked their fingers. He wouldn’t disappear on her again.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

His heart stuttered to a stop.

She smiled. Said, “Are you still tone deaf?”

He snorted. “Couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.”

She pointed at the microphone, “I went to karaoke a lot while you were gone. With Sonoko. People I’d never met before. Made some college friends.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” her head dropped to his shoulder. “What are you going to do now? Find another case?”

He dropped his head on top of hers. “Yes, no. I find mysteries everywhere.” His shrug jostled them both, but they remained. “I still have to graduate high school.” Both chuckled for a second.

“Should be easy for you, mystery nerd.”

“You hang out with Sonoko too much.”

Slowly, Ran asked Shinichi questions. Some of them serious. Others not so much. He promised to go to the same college as her. He wanted to anyway. She told him about her life after the calls stopped. About a boy she met. About the boy running away when he realized she could break him in two. Shinichi reassured her that he didn’t deserve her anyway. She asked, “Was it worth it?”

“More than anything.”

Shinichi was pretty sure she cried again. To be honest, he wanted to cry a bit too. Without prompting, he added, “You’re the first person I saw. Told. Sorry, I don’t know how to say it.”

“Why me?”

That was a silly question. Shinichi pressed his lips into her hair, closing his eyes as he breathed her in. “Because I will always love you. More than anyone else.” Elegant letters mocked him behind closed lids, and Shinichi smiled. Ran really was important.

“I love you too. Disappear like that again though and I might just murder you instead.”

He laughed. The words came so easily now. Something bubbled in his chest and he turned so he could pull Ran into a tight hug. “I really love you, you know. I was going to confess once.”

“Me too,” she admitted. They laughed. “We’re ridiculous. We missed our chance to say it when it mattered most, and here we are just blurting it out.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to tell you everything.”

“I think we have time.”

Shinichi squeezed Ran tighter. She couldn’t breathe, but it was worth it if she got to hold him just as tight.