#off topic but i can never figure out if the correct tense is hung or hanged

[hrrystylesbookclub]

i genuinely lose sleep wondering if sejanus knew snow ratted him out and sentenced him to death before he was hanged

i cant wait to see if they’ll make that clearer in the movie, and i’m terrified about hearing his last cry for Ma

[turning-dreams-into-chaos]

The Lie (Part 2)

*Not My Gif*

The Lie (Part 1)

Post Date: 12-27-19

Paring: Remus Lupin x Reader

Word Count: 3K

A/N: Part 3 in the works! Tell me what you think!

~Master~

~Harry Potter Master~

You couldn’t think as you raced from the classroom, trying to hide from everyone’s eyes as you ended in an abandoned corridor. Your knees gave out, sending you to the ground as you clutched your chest. The world had to of been spinning because your mind was reeling, laying your head on the cool floor below you, and curling into a ball as much as you could as you cried.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there. Seconds, minutes, hours, you couldn’t really tell. It wasn’t until you heard a speeding pair of footsteps slow and someone’s hand touch your back were you finally able to breath properly, trying to compose yourself as you turned around to see a frowning Sirius next to you.

“Hey Pads.” You put on a fake smile, wiping the tears from your eyes but knew it was pointless as Sirius looked at you, moving to sit against the wall as you joined him. You didn’t know what to say as he grabbed your hand.

“I know.” he said and your blood went cold as your breathing shook and your head snapped to look at his perched on the wall. “I know about you and James.” You let out a sob, bringing your hand up to your face for cover as Sirius wrapped his arms around you, pulling you to his chest. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He whispered but you just shook your head and pulled away.

“It’s not! I had sex with one of the best friends of my boyfriend. I cheated on the love of my life. It’s not okay.” You cried out, burying your face in your knees. Sirius didn’t know how truly guilty you felt until now and seeing you like this. “I have to tell him.” You mumbled, surprising the boy. “I have to tell Remus.”

“You’re actually going to tell him?” You swallow your sobs and sat straighter, ignoring the lump in your throat as you nodded.

“The lie. Sitting behind this lie, it’s killing me.”

Sirius remained silent, nodding his head as he reached for your hand again. You smiled at him, silently thanking him for his comfort. “Pads? How did you find out?”

Sirius sighed, giving your hand a squeeze. “I was in the classroom. I saw what James did.” He admitted and you whimpered, clasping your eyes closed at the unfond memory. “Y/N, what happened between you two was a mistake. I know what it’s like to make a few drunk mistakes.”

“Marlene?” You asked, raising a brow while Sirius’ eyes opened wider in embarrassment and he nodded his head, making you chuckle a little. Sirius gave you a grin, happy that you were a little better before your face fell again. “Do you think he’s ever gonna forgive me?”

Your voice was soft, wavering quite a bit. “He loves you Y/N. You know as well as I do that Remus and you were practically made for each other.”

“But is he gonna forgive me?” Your voice turned desperate and if Sirius was being honest, he had no clue if Remus was going to forgive you. But he would be damned if he was going to let Remus hate you.

“Are you going to tell him about what happened today?” Sirius asked, trying to change the topic as much as he could but he needed to know how much you were willing to tell Remus.

“I can’t.” You sighed, putting your head on his shoulder and looking at the cream colored wall across from you. “The four of you are best friends. I can’t be the reason you aren’t anymore.”

That was so you. Taking all the blame and trying to keep the marauders together, but Sirius couldn’t help but scoff. “We stopped being best friends the moment James forced himself on you today.”

“Sirius-“

“No, James doesn’t get a pass here. He fucked up today.”

“And he has to live with it. But Remus can never know.” You made him promise not to tell Remus and, rather reluctantly, he did.

“So, when are you going to tell him?” He asked you, making you groan, running a hand over your face.

“Soon.”

Sirius nodded, eyes tranfixed on you. “So what exactly happened that night?” Sirius asked as you bit your lip.

“We were drunk.” You began as you told him everything that had happened that unfaithful night.

Soon couldn’t come fast enough. It had been a couple days since Sirius comforted you and James was completely gone. He had been so scared about Sirius spilling the secret that he’s pretended to be busy anytime someone comes to find him. Lily kept asking you if you knew what was up with him and like the liar you found yourself to be, you told her you didn’t know.

Remus had been the best boyfriend you could’ve asked for. It was like he knew something was upsetting you and promised that he’d be there to help you through it, putting no pressure on you to tell him what it was.

You didn’t deserve him.

Remus and you were sitting on his bed, a box of chocolate and your homework between the two of you but you couldn’t focus on it. You kept taking glances up at Remus, barely scribbling a few words down on your paper before Remus sighed, reaching for your assignment and pulling it out of your hands.

“Rem, what are you doing?” You reached for your paper again, only for him to pull it more and smirk at you. You just reached farther until Remus’ arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his lap as he twisted to lay down. “Rem!” You giggled as he started to kiss your face dramatically, tickling your cheeks. “What’s happening?”

Remus pulled away, a giddy smile on his smile as he looked down at you. “Somethings on your mind, so I’m helping you forget about it.” Your chest warmed at his words, a feeling of love as well as guilt, and you heard him chuckle as he moved down to your neck. The kisses turned from being fun and childish to more breathtaking, making you gasp as his lips pressed against your skin.

“Remus.” You moaned out, letting one of your hands come to hair, threading your fingers through them as he continued.

“God, I love you.” He mumbled as he started moving down your collarbone, your breathing skipping. “Nothing could change that.”

You couldn’t let this continue. Not without him knowing the truth. “I slept with James.”

Remus froze, trying to figure out if you were telling the truth or not. But by your silence he could tell you were. It was like someone casted a spell to drain all the happiness from his life as he pushed himself off you. “W-What?” His quiet voice made your entire being collapse.

“I s-slept with James.” You sat up completely, pushing yourself as far from Remus as you watched him. He wasn’t screaming, or yelling, or freaking out yet. He was just processing it.

“You slept with James.” He wasn’t asking and when you could no longer bring yourself to look at him he snapped. “What the fuck are you talking about?” Remus wasn’t one to use swear words like nothing and you knew no matter how composed he looked, he was seething on the inside.

“I’m sorry.” You felt tears fall down your face but you didn’t try to wipe them away.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry?!”

“Remus.” You whimpered. He stood off the bed, pacing back and forth next to you.

He buried his head in his hands to cover his newly red and puffy eyes and screamed. “I loved you!”

Loved. Past tense.

“I’m sorry.” You couldn’t speak. Your entire world just shattered as the person you thought you were going to spend your life with began to question everything.

“Sorry? Again, you’re sorry? You slept with my best friend and you’re sorry?” He couldn’t even look at you right now. “Get out.” His voice didn’t waver. It wasn’t quiet but it wasn’t loud. It was unnerving, really. “Get the fuck out.”

You scrambled out of the bed, choking back your sobs as you pushed past him, running through the common room to your bed in hopes of no one catching you.

But unfortunately Lily had. “Y/N?” She said as she followed you up into the room, landing on the bed at the same time you let everything out, crying into your pillow. “Y/N, What happened?” She rubbed your back but you couldn’t handle being touched, and it being her did not help the situation.

“I slept with James when we were drunk and I’ve ruined everything.” You blurted out without even thinking of the consequences. Lily on the other hand didn’t say anything, just raced out of the room, slamming the door on the way out.

Remus was fuming as Sirius walked into the room, the place looking like a hurricane rolled through as Sirius gulped. “I reckon she told you.” He muttered, starting to clean up a little as Remus spun to face him, eyes burning into the side of his head.

“You knew? You fucking knew and didn’t tell me?” Remus was in front of Sirius in just a few steps, grabbing him by the robes and pushing him against the wall.

Sirius pushed Remus hands off him but they weren’t going anywhere, remaining locked on the boy. “Yes, I knew. And no I didn’t tell you. She wanted to be the one who told you.”

“Oh, well goodie her! Guess that makes it all better then, doesn’t it?!” Remus let go of Sirius’ clothes, sending him to the floor by the force. “Just leave me alone.” He muttered, sitting down on his bed. Sirius, the poor sap, almost obliged but shook his head.

“No.” He simply said as he sat on his next bed next to Remus’. It looked as if Remus had been crying for years and Sirius hated the familiarity he found between this moment and your own cries the other day. “I’m not going to sit here and let you throw away everything you love.”

“Sirius-“

“Do you love her?” He asked as Remus’ Adam’s apple bobbed. Sirius repeated himself, making Remus know there’s no way out as the boy nodded.

“Of course I do. I don’t think I could ever stop.” He admitted as his head hung low with guilt, much to Sirius’ relief.

“Then you need to hear her out. You need to hear the whole story.” Remus knew Sirius was correct but it didn’t make things easier.

“I can’t. I can’t even look at her right now.”

“Then listen to me,” Sirius said as Remus met his eyes, pleading for any chance to defuse his pain. “She loves you Moony. What had happened was a mistake. James and her just won their quidditch game and she wanted to celebrate with you, but Lily and you needed to study for the Charms test. They had a few drinks and then a few turned into several and neither of them knew what was happening. It was a mistake.”

Remus clenched his jaw, falling back completely onto his bed. “Stop making excuses for her.”

“I’m not. I’m not saying that what she did was okay, I’m saying she made a mistake, Remus.”

Sirius hoped that Remus understood what he was getting at and by the way Remus slumped his shoulders, it looked like he was starting to get it. “Look, you don’t have to forgive her, but don’t give up on her. Give her a second chance.”

“But what if she does it again?”

“She won’t.”

“Yeah, I thought that the first time.”

Sirius paused, moving on his own bed to lay down as well. He knew he had to let Remus know what James pulled the other day, but he also promised you he wouldn’t. “I’m gonna tell you something and you can’t tell Y/N I told you.” Remus turned his head, looking at a conflicted Sirius and nodded. “I left my book in class the other day and when I was in there to get it, Y/N and James came in.” Remus felt his blood boil as he listened. “He... he kept wanting to talk to her and she told him no and that it was a mistake... and I thought that would be the end of it but then...” Sirius trailed off as Remus sat up on his elbow, as his nostrils flared, trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“And then what?”

Sirius gulped, looking over to Remus with softened eyes. “He kissed her.” Remus was unmoving, but on the inside he was screaming.

“They kissed?!” He yelled scaring Sirius on his bed.

“No! No! James kissed Y/N! Y/N slapped him and ran out.” Remus hadn’t calmed down by that comment.

“So, either my girlfriend was okay with cheating on me, or my best friend was ok with kissing my girlfriend.”

“Remus, I followed her afterward,” Sirius said, shutting up Remus. “She had a break down in the middle of an empty corridor. Trust me Moony, Y/N’s not okay cheating on you. She hated lying to you everyday. She hated knowing how much you love her and knowing she messed it all up in one night! She hated knowing that you might not forgive her! And you know what? That’s what worries her the most. Not that you and her would break up or James, you, Peter and I wouldn’t be best friends, it was that you wouldn’t forgive her.” Sirius’ voice cracked as he yelled at his best friend, trying to convince him to understand. “She didn’t want me to tell you about the classroom. She didn’t want to be the reason our friendships broke. She loves you Remus. More than anything.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He was truly speechless as Sirius stood up, patting his back and leaving him to his thoughts. Remus didn’t know what he was going to do, but one thing was certain. He wasn’t going to stop loving you that easily.

He jumped off the bed, making his way through the common room and almost to the stairs leading to the girls room. “She’s not up there.” Lily told him as he paused, turning to see the red head sitting on the couch and staring at the fire. It didn’t take Remus long to figure out that she now knew based on the tear stains leading down her cheeks.

“You know?” Lily nodded, giving him a tight lipped smile.

“She told me after she came running from your room. I went to find my boyfriend- ex boyfriend, and he denied the whole thing before I told him what Y/N said.” Lily bite her lip, turning away from the flames. “Y/N came out about 5 minutes ago, said she needed some air. I’d check by the-“

“By the lake.” Remus finished as Lily chuckled, wiping the new drops of tears before giving Remus a nod and telling him to go find you.

Remus didn’t waste any time in heading down to the lake, seeing you lean against the tree.

“You always come here when you’re thinking.” He grinned as he finished the distance to you, standing next to you as you stared out at the frozen lake. You didn’t know if you could say anything, your words logged in your throat as Remus reached out to grab your hand.

“You should hate me.” You rasped out, tired from crying all the time.

Remus just sighed, “I can’t.” He reached your to brush the hair out of your eye, but you stopped him, holding him gently by the wrist.

“Why don’t you hate me?” He needed to be angry with you. You needed him to be angry with you. It makes no sense that he wouldn’t be.

“Y/N.”

“No!” You yelled, backing up against the tree. “I-I slept with James. I cheated on you a-and lied to you and sat there and pretended like nothing happened when I kissed you day after day. I hate me! Why don’t you?” You started towards the castle, pulling your cloak tight around your body.

“Because I can’t!” Remus yelled, stopping you in your tracks as you turned to him, tears threatening to fall again.

“Why not?!”

Remus couldn’t take your broken tone as he finished the distance to you. “Because I know how much it kills you!” You gasped as you heard Remus’ voice crack when he cried. “Because you regret it! Because I sat there and listened to Sirius tell me how you ran off and cried after that day in the classroom. Because I know how much you love me and I know how much I love you.”

“Remus...”

“I’m not happy with you Y/N. But I can’t be mad at you. You’re my heart.” He grabbed your waist, pulling you to him as he kissed you despite the tears freezing both of your faces as you pulled apart.

“I’m sorry Remus. I’m so so sorry.” He nodded, pulling your body against his and hugging you tight.

“I know, love. I know.” Your breathing finally became normal again as Remus led you back to his bed. Remus sat against the headboard as you rested your head in his lap, letting him run his fingers through your hair as you drifted off to sleep.

Remus had a broken smile as he looked at you, the door to his room swinging open. Sirius peaked his head in, only seeing you and Remus in the dorm as he crept inside, sitting in his bed facing you two.

“How’re you doin’?” He asked Remus who never looked away from you.

“I’m good,” He whispered. “We’re good.”

Sirius just watched, seeing the small sleeping smile on your face before looking up to Remus. “You talked to her?” Remus nodded his head as you shifted in his lap, humming when you found a content spot to rest. “You’re not mad at her?”

Remus shook his head, pulling your hair out of your face from when you moved. “I can’t be mad at her.”

“Good.” Sirius sank into his bed in relief, glad this was practically over before he remembered one thing. “What about James? What are you gonna do about him?”

Remus’ hand stopped moving completely. His entire attitude sinking as he thought about the boy he used to consider one of his best friends. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Part 3?

Feedback is awesome!!

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[astertataricvs]

Giyuu with a fem s/o thats an artist? but giyuu finds out on accident and stumbles upon their sketchbook with drawings of him? tyy

Thank you so much for requesting! I hope that you like this one ♡

Fingertips grazing on the white silky papers and hands holding a long thin wooden stick of fine charcoal. The tepid breeze of air blows through your body as you sight the sky coated with cantaloupe and pinkish colour. The smell of nature around proffers you a rejuvenating feeling as you embed the scenery in front of you in a blank piece of paper.

You were on a cliff where you're sitting under the huge oak tree as you sight the majestic sky and composition of the town underneath the cliff. This is your hideout whenever you had your day off from your profession of being a demon hunter. You found this place when you're exploring for something you can draw about. Then hours of walking, you stumble upon this place that eventually lured you because of the tranquil and enticing view. Since then, you would generally visit the place and it became your hideout due to no one was passing by and trying to visit the place.

Everyone in the demon slayer corps doesn't have any idea that you like to draw since you've been trying to hide it from everyone. It's not that you're obscuring it because your drawings are suck, it's just... all of your drawings were all about a certain ravenette who allured you by his captivating gaze and how graceful his gesticulations were.

The first time your eyes caught his figure, you already had the urge to draw his appearance in your sketchbook that you've been keeping for almost a year.

He gives you this odd sensation whenever you're going to stare at him; you would automatically command yourself that you want to draw his gorgeous face in your sketchbook since you don't want to pass the enchanting look you had witnessed. That's why the content of your drawing pad was full of Giyuu's face; slaying demons; sitting in the meeting room where all the pillars and Oyakata-sama were holding a meeting; Giyuu eating, and also, Giyuu's stoic face whenever his eyes were going to dart at you.

You don't have any idea why you're getting inspired to draw his face in your sketchbook, but all you know is that he's a perfect piece of art that you can't thwart your gaze and you can't repress your hands from scribbling in the paper and draw his face.

Flipping all the pages of your sketchbook, your lips curled as you look at the different portraits of Giyuu that you have drawn. For some unidentified reason, you couldn't help but always grin every time your eyes would settle on his figure. In spite of Giyuu isn't showing any signs of emotion, you still had the propensity to be attracted to him and draw him whenever you had spare time. The water pillar was an enigma to you, you don't know what he was feeling or his thoughts when you're going to sight the man and once the two of you will be paired up by Oyakata-sama for a mission.

You had known him as the emotionless and an uptight man. You never even saw him smile even if it's just a microscopic one. He would always have this poker face displaying on his handsome features and isolate himself from all of you. Although you wanted to speak to him and be close to the water pillar, his actions were enough reason to halt you from your plan. On your missions, you tried communicating to him with the best of your abilities, but his response would eventually end the conversation which was really challenging for you to think about a topic that would kill the awkward silence that was inundating the both of you.

Extorting a sigh, you heard your stomach gurgle since you still haven't eaten your lunch yet. Therefore you decided to go to your house and grab your lunch to eat in your hideout. Rising up to your feet, you place your sketchbook and pencil beside the trunk of the tree and leave it there. Yet again, you look at the view in front of you then afterwards, a smile tugs at your lips as you feel the gust of wind blows through your body.

"I'll be back," you said into emptiness and started your journey to your house.

Giyuu was taking a walk around to find a spot to invigorate his mind. He just returned from his mission that Oyakata-sama had sent him. It's been a while since he relaxed his tense self and for always thinking about slaughtering demons and his days with Sabito. Although he was an unobtrusive man and doesn't talk a lot, his mind was the exact opposite of it. He's always been thinking about the feasible outcomes that would occur to him whenever the sun had risen again.

As the water pillar come across to a cliff where an oak tree is at the centre and a beautiful scenery lies ahead. His eyes widen ever so slightly and sauntered towards the big tree. Trudging closer, the wind began to gush his body as his eyes caught a sketchbook and a pencil lying beside the trunk.

Giyuu's eyebrows rumpled, did someone just got here before him? Then where's the person that was here a moment ago?

The water pillar stared at the sketchbook, Giyuu wasn't the type of guy who would stick his nose into other peoples business but a moiety of him was intrigued about the sketchbook that was lying underneath him.

The deep blue-eyed man roamed his eyes to sight someone's figure but to no avail. Reluctantly, he started to pick the mysterious notebook then once he picked it up, he flips the first page and the water pillar's eyes widened a bit upon seeing the beautiful canvas engrave in the white sheet of paper.

It was a field of sunflowers where the petals were wafting in the air. Behind of the flowers was a group of trees where leaves were swinging due to the wind. Despite having no colour and just plain black and white; Giyuu was still fascinated at the well defined and real-life image.

After admiring the first canvas, he started to flip the page again. Darting his eyes to the next drawing, this causes Giyuu's mouth to fell open and dumbfounded at what he just saw.

It's a portrait of him where he was looking to elsewhere with his usual emotionless facade. This made him baffle and ponder who's the one drawing him and who owns the sketchbook he was holding. His first assumption was someone in the demon slayer corps since no one else would know him despite the organization. But what if it's someone he helped from the past?

To inspect further, he flips the next page and yet again he was astounded because the next drawing was also him, though, he's slaying a demon. Giyuu was awestruck because every page that he flips, it was still him with diverse scenarios. He was in utter disbelief that someone was sneaking behind his back to draw his features. Giyuu had mixed emotions after encountering the sketchbook; confused, disbelief, amazement, his curiosity was beginning to resurface as he flips the pages until it stopped from an unfinished drawing. It was the view of the place where he's standing right now, the town underneath the cliff and the view of the vast sky with cirrus clouds slowly moving.

Giyuu stared at his portrait that was very well elaborated. His geometrical and plain red haori, the shape of his eyes and nose. His long spiky hair that was tied into a low ponytail and his left hand that was gripping his sword. Minutes of examining the drawing, it just dawned upon him that it was really him. But why would someone bother to draw someone like him? Is he that appealing to draw?

"Tomioka-san?" Giyuu snapped out from his deep solicitudes when he heard your gentle voice rang in his ears before whipping his head to look at you.

"(Last name)..."

Gaping at the man in front of you, your eyes landed on the sketchbook in his hands which causes you to frantically grabbed the drawing pad in a quick pace.

"D-Did you s-saw it?" You sputtered as your face becoming to heat up because of embarrassment. You hug your sketchbook into your chest while looking at him with a faltering gaze.

Giyuu was stunned when he found out that you're the owner of the mysterious sketchbook that he rummaged. He felt his lips involuntarily parted once he sights your blushing face and how you protect the sketchbook in between your arms.

So his assumption was correct? It's someone in the demon slayer corps who was sneaking to draw him.

"I have no idea that it was yours," he monotonously said to which your blushing face augmented.

"I-I'm sorry i-if I'm drawing you without your permission..." you hung your head as you still hug your sketchbook.

You feel so ashamed right now that you had the urge to hop on the cliff if you only had the resolve to do it, same as you don't want to see his face this instant, you're too embarrassed to look at him. In many people that might saw your sketchbook, why does it had to be Giyuu? Why does it have to be the one you least you wanted to discover your book?

Ah, you wanted to be eaten by the ground right now.

"It's actually fine for me."

Your head promptly snapped at him to see Giyuu only looking at you with his usual deadpan face.

"What?" You asked for confirmation.

"It doesn't bother me if you wanted to draw me." Giyuu faced the landscape in front of you, relishing the warm breeze of nature.

"I thought you're going to be mad."

This causes to catch Giyuu's attention and looked at you with a perplexed expression. "Why?"

"I-It's because... I'm drawing you without your consent..." you awkwardly responded while gazing at your feet.

Giyuu only bored his eyes at you before diverting his gaze to the scenery. "I don't have any complaints about you drawing me. But I have a question to ask."

Lifting your head, you tilt your head. "What is it?"

"Why do you want to draw me?"

Upon hearing his question, your body automatically stiffens as you gaze at his face still fixated on the view. You feel your lips quiver and heart beats erratically. Before you can answer him, you bite your lower lip.

"I don't know why but... I had this sensation inside me that I wanted to draw you. Every time I'm going to draw your face, it always gets me the excitement and for me... you're a beautiful person, Tomioka-san..."

Giyuu's body went rigid once he heard your answer. He gradually turned his head to face you with shock evident on his handsome features. Never once in Giyuu's life that he would receive from someone telling him that he's beautiful. It totally took him by surprise and he didn't foresee that answer from you, specifically that you two weren't that close to begin with and just acquaintances.

"A-Ah! I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you by telling you're beautiful! Well... y-you're handsome-- no! What I mean is you are indeed beautiful-- ugh!"

Giyuu only watched you being frantic as you oppressively ruffled your hair. Seeing you being a mess makes him elicit a soft chuckle.

"Eh? Did you just laugh?" You stopped from your hysterical self when you heard a chuckle coming from him.

"No, you're just hearing things," Giyuu instantly replied with nonchalance.

"But I really heard you--"

"Think of whatever you pleased. I didn't laugh, it's just your imagination." Giyuu sighs then started to walk away. This makes you startled and shouts for his name.

"Tomioka-san!" The water pillar paused in his tracks and looked over his shoulder.

"C-Can I still draw you?" Your voice shakes as you said those words.

"Do whatever you want." Then in just a few seconds, you saw a minuscule smile tug at his lips that totally caught you off guard.

Before you can utter a word, Giyuu began his steps. "You're good at drawing, you have my praise for that," he stated then disappear into the woods.

You only stared at the path he walked on while blinking numerous times, confirming that you're not hallucinating. Did you really witness Tomioka Giyuu the known emotionless water pillar just bestowed you a smile? If so, he notably looked dashing if he's smiling, though he looked handsome even if he's in his usual indifference.

"You really are a masterpiece in most of my drawings, Tomioka Giyuu-san."

[crashdevlin]

Doc and Sir 1- What Are We Waiting For?

Doc and Sir Masterlist

Author’s Note: Written for @spnkinkbingo, filling my Dom!Sam square

Summary: Y/n had a crush on Sam at Stanford, but she was sure he’d never look at her because of her weight. When he walks into her ER eleven years after the fire in his apartment, he reveals she’s actually more his type than she would have thought: sweet, innocent and corruptible.

Pairing(s): Sam X Plus size!Reader

Word Count: 4382

Warnings: Dom/sub training, bondage, oral (male rec), 18+ HERE BE SEX DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!  protected sex, fingering,

Wanna enhance your fanfic experience? Get Sam’s hydrosol from @scentsfromthebunker

When he walked into your ER, your breath caught. He was unmistakable. Dressed to kill in a dark blue suit, but under it? Sam Winchester, with the light fluffy hair and the brilliant hazel eyes and the smile that felt like sunshine. Sam Winchester, who disappeared not too long after the fire in his apartment, who obviously couldn't handle coming back to Stanford after Jessica Moore passed. Sam Winchester, who you had the biggest crush on and never knew you existed. You had three classes with him in ‘02-‘03 and you spent every class trying not to stare at him. He was never going to notice a woman like you. You had a hundred pounds on any of the women you'd seen him turning that smile on for.

“Hi, I'm looking for Dr. Y/l/n,” he said, walking up to you.

“That's me. How can I help you?” You didn't let on that you knew who he was, but you couldn't help the way your eyebrows shot up at the FBI badge he presented you.

“I'm Agent Simmons. I wanted to talk to you about a patient you saw last month and- what?” You shook your head. You didn't want to call him on it. “Wait. Y/n? Y/n y/l/n? From Stanford?”

You blinked at him several times. He knew who you were? “Yes? You remember me, Sam?”

“English II, Art History and Pre-calc, right?” He gave you that bright smile.

“Uh, yeah. You, um, change your last name when you went into the Bureau, Winchester?”

He chuckled, a bit nervously. “Um, it’s not… Winchester’s a distinctive name, so…”

“So you go by ‘Simmons’. Okay.” That still didn’t make much sense, but you’d let him lie if he kept smiling at you like that. “So, Agent Simmons, what patient did you need to talk to me about?”

Sam launched into questions about a man who’d come in with an infected dog bite on his leg. You gave him all the info you could while adhering to HIPAA regulations, but you could see that it wasn’t what he wanted to know. “Well, thank you, y/n. It was, you know, it was great to see you again. A blast from my past.”

“Yeah, you got me wanting to go grab a coffee from the Co Ho and hit the library,” you joked.

“Well, I can’t help you with that, but I could take you for coffee.”

You looked up into his bright hazel eyes, shock filling you. “What?”

“Or, you know, dinner if you’d prefer. I… I haven’t gotten to talk to anybody from The Farm in years. When’s the end of your shift?”

“Uh… I get off at eleven… a little late for dinner.”

“But not too late for coffee at the diner across the street,” he said, a hopeful tinge to his words.

“Make it a beer at the bar on the next block over and you’re on.”

“Pick you up at eleven?”

“Make it eleven-fifteen. I never get out of here on time.”

He smiled and nodded. “See you tonight, doc.” You bit your lip as you watched him walk away. He sure did get big. Those wide shoulders and thick arms barely contained in that suit… oh, what a lot of difference a decade made.

You shook your head. He was just happy to see a familiar face. There was no way he was interested in anything except nostalgia. You remembered, vividly, what Jessica Moore looked like. You remembered the tall brunette in Pre-calculus who always wore mini-skirts and the redhead you saw him making out with at a frat party the year before he met Jessica. Sam Winchester didn’t fuck with fat chicks.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I remember, once, I was jogging the trail around Lake Lag and you were just laying in the mud with your headphones on, dead to the world.”

“I remember that!” You laughed. “It was Dead Week, man! I was out of it. I think I was running on, like, four hours of sleep over the whole week and I went for a walk to clear my head and I tripped into the lake and just… couldn’t be bothered to get out.”

“Well, you looked comfortable.” Sam pulled his beer to his lips.

“Yeah. I think I fell asleep in the mud, the dulcet tones of American Idiot in my ears.” You laughed, shaking your head. “You know, I honestly didn’t think you even knew my name, Sam. The fact that you recognized me in the mud and remembered it?”

“Of course, I knew your name. You were the smartest girl in class… in all of the classes we shared,” he said, smiling. You opened your mouth to argue with him. “You know, I always thought you didn't like me, or something.”

Your eyebrows scrunched together. “Why would you think that?”

“You never talked to me!” he exclaimed. “Not even in class discussions. You always kinda talked around me. And you glared a lot.”

“I wasn't glaring, Sam.”

“Yes, you were.”

“You’re hot. I was staring, not glaring.”

He smiled, pushing his hair behind his ears. “You shoulda said something, y/n.”

“Why? You weren't giving me a second look in a sea of sorority girls in short skirts. Brady tried to get me to talk to you a couple weeks after he dropped pre-med, but I figured he was just fucking with me.” You shrugged, not missing the fact that Sam tensed at the mention of his old best friend. “I mean, I could tell he was high when he suggested it and it wouldn't have been the first time someone set me up to fail with a hot guy just to get a laugh outta the fat chick who doesn't know her own league.”

“I didn't know you knew Brady,” he said, tightly.

“Yeah, we were both pre-med, had the same Advisors. I mean, ‘til he dropped out.” You kept it to yourself that you knew Jess, too. Better to keep the topic on something lighter. “I thought we were okay ‘til he came to me, hopped up on whatever he was taking, and said I was just your type and that I should let him set us up on a date. Knew he was an asshole after that… and of course, he went to work for big pharma after so that's a confirmation of his place in hell.”

“You have no idea,” Sam said under his breath. He put his hand up for another round of beers and licked his lips. “But he was right. You were just my type.”

“What? Every chick I ever saw you with was a stick with tits, Sam.”

He laughed, visibly relaxing. “What?!”

“Ya know, huge chest, tiny waist, long legs? The triangle body type, not the… what would call this?” You gestured at yourself. “Apple? Pear?”

“I'd call it a thick hourglass and it’s sexy as hell.” He smirked at the way your eyes went wide and looked away from his. “But I think it was more your personality type Brady was focused on, y/n.”

“W-what about my personality?”

Sam rested his gigantic hand over your denim-covered knee and smiled, but this smile didn’t feel like warm sunshine. This one was a wildfire threatening to burn you up. “Brady knew I liked sweet girls. Shy, innocent, pure ones that I could corrupt.”

You tried to swallow, but it seemed Sam’s fire had burned up every bit of moisture in you except what was leaking onto your panties, because your mouth was suddenly dry. “Sara Parsons wasn’t any of that,” you somehow managed to say with a steady voice.

Sam smirked. “I didn’t date Sara Parsons. I just let her give me a blow job at a Delta party… and she didn’t even do that well. I wasn’t gonna reward her by fucking her, let alone dating her.”

“Fucking her would’ve been a reward?” you asked, quietly.

He nodded. “And I don’t reward poor performance.”

His words made your pussy clench around nothing. It all seemed a bit kinky; talk of corrupting pure girls, sexual rewards for how well they pleasured him… but what would you know about it? You hadn’t had a boyfriend since the summer before you went off to Stanford and nothing kinky, or even remotely satisfying, happened on his Star Wars bed sheets. The guy who used you as stress relief during your residency didn’t do any better. Vanilla was too exciting of a flavor to describe your sex life thus far.

Your sex life was flour.

“You know what I like about you, doc?” You shrugged and he squeezed your knee. “Even all these years later, you’re still innocent, still sweet.”

For some reason, you weren’t offended by the assertion. Somehow, it turned you on that he saw you that way, but you had to correct him. “Wasn’t innocent at Stanford, Sam.”

“I didn’t say ‘virginal’. Common mistake, but not the same thing.” He ran his hand up from your knee to settle on your thigh and leaned closer to your ear. “You can’t even imagine all the things I wanna do to you, y/n, and that is innocence.”

You took a deep breath to calm your pounding heart rate and suddenly heavy breaths. “Tell me.” It came out a panting whisper.

He pulled back, smiling. His hazel eyes were dark with lust. “Can’t just tell you, y/n. Let me take you home and I’ll show you.”

You stood, on suddenly shaky legs, and grabbed your purse from the back of your chair. “What are we waiting for?”

~~~~~~~~~

“Are you nervous?” Sam asked as you pressed the button in the elevator that would take you to your floor.

“Kind of. Yeah,” you answered, honestly.

“Don’t worry. We’ll start soft.” Sam pulled you back against his chest, wrapping his arms around you.

“You’re not gonna hurt me, are you?”

“Not unless you want me to. I think you’d probably want to work up to that.” You nodded. “You ever given it a thought, though?”

“Pain? Yes. I’m a doctor. I think about pain a lot.”

He chuckled. “I’m talking about sex and pain, y/n. Have you ever thought about someone spanking you?”

“Not since I was a child, actively trying to avoid it.”

“Maybe next time.” He squeezed you as the elevator doors opened. You led him down the hall to your apartment and unlocked it.

You dropped your keys in the bowl on the table just inside the doorway and hung your coat and purse on the hooks on the other side of it. “You want a drink?”

Sam closed the door behind him and grabbed your hand. Your breath caught as he grabbed your face in both hands and leaned his face down to yours. You could feel his breath on your lips, but you were focused on his eyes. “What I want is for you to go to your bedroom and take off all of your clothes and lie on your bed and don’t move. Can you do that for me, y/n?” You nodded, slowly. “Good girl. You keep being good and you’ll see how I reward good girls.”

He smirked as he stepped back from you, releasing your face. You blinked at him a few times before shaking yourself out of whatever trance he put you in and turning on your heel to walk toward your bedroom. You kicked your sneakers off into the corner, pulling your t-shirt off over your head and unbuttoning your jeans. You didn’t know where Sam was, he hadn’t followed you to the bedroom. Something told you he wanted to see if you’d follow directions without eyes on you. So, you did exactly as you were told. You stripped to your skin, lied on your bed, crossed your legs and placed your hands, with your fingers entwined, over your stomach… and you waited.

As minutes ticked by, your anticipation grew, a knot twisting in your stomach. When Sam walked in, you wanted to look at him, but you didn’t. He said not to move. “Damn. Look at you.” He approached the bed and put his hand on your ankle. “You know how hot you look, y/n?” He ran his hand up your leg, his touch feather-light, twisting his fingers to skim along the inside of your thigh, but skipping over the place you wanted him to touch. His fingertips drew circles around your nipple and you couldn’t hold in the gasp, immediately stiffening about the noise. “I want to hear you, y/n. I never said to be quiet, did I?”

“No.”

His face went stern. “I want you to call me ‘sir’. Can you do that, y/n?”

“Yes, sir,” you whispered. At least he didn’t want you to call him ‘Daddy’... but you probably would if he requested it.

“Good girl.” His hand continued its trek up your body, dipping along your collarbone and wrapping very lightly around your neck. His hand was so large that only the part of your neck in contact with the pillow was kept from contact with his palm. You whined, flushing at the thought that he could easily choke you out with one hand. Sam smirked down at you. “We’ll come back to that.”

His thumb swept across your jawline and up to your lips. “Open,” he commanded and your jaw dropped immediately. He pushed his thumb into your mouth and you stuck your tongue out to lick tentatively at the pad of his thumb. You were rewarded with a groan, which emboldened you to close your lips around his digit and suck lightly. You watched his eyes close as you continued sucking and laving your tongue across his thumb. It filled you with pride. “Y/n…” He pulled away and stepped back, hands going to his belt buckle. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

He pointed to the carpet at his feet and you rolled off of your mattress. You crawled the few feet to the area he indicated and looked up at him. He seemed even taller from that position. He moved slowly as he undid his belt, each motion exaggerated and overblown, slow and torturous. He popped the button and dragged the zipper down. “You know how to earn your reward, don’t you, y/n?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Tell me.”

“I have to give you a blow job better than Sara Parsons gave you, sir.”

He chuckled. “That’s not hard, sweetheart. No, I think that you need to aim a bit higher than just better than Sara. You need to suck my cock like your life depends on it.” You swallowed and nodded. “Say it. Say ‘Yes, sir, I’ll suck your cock like my life depends on it’.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll suck your cock like my life depends on it.”

“Good girl.” He smiled as he dragged his jeans and boxers down his thighs. Your eyes went wide when his cock bounced free. No wonder Sara had trouble, it was huge. You licked your lips and leaned forward, your mouth watering a little. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You wrapped your hand around the base and opened your mouth, giving the head a kitten lick. He hissed through his teeth and you ran your tongue along the thick vein on the underside. You took him in your mouth, analyzing how every motion made him react as the head slid across your tongue toward the back of your throat. You stopped short of gagging yourself, wrapped your lips around the velvet skin and pulled back. You bobbed your head a few times, taking him just to the brink of your limits and pulling back to the head, before you surged forward, taking in as much as you could, past your gag reflex kicking in, until the head was nestled in your throat.

His hands both came to grasp at your head, holding you in place for several seconds. He pulled back long enough to let you breathe before thrusting back into your throat. “Fuck! You are…” He grunted, low in chest, as he twisted his hands in your hair. You could tell he was holding back the desire to tug, but he didn’t hold back fucking your throat. Once you got his rhythm down, timing your breaths and swallowing when he was in your throat, you started running your fist up and down the base of him that wouldn’t fit in your mouth, the mucus-thick saliva from your esophagus a perfect lubricant for your touch.

He almost growled as he pulled back, pushing your head away from him. You looked up at him, panting breaths making your whole body sway. “W-was that… was it good… sir?”

“You did so good, baby. Go ahead and untie my boots.” You leaned forward and did as he told you, untying and loosening his bootlaces. “Now stand up and take my shirt off.” Your legs were numb from being down on your knees for so long, but you jumped up to your feet and eagerly started to unbutton his flannel. You bit your lip as you revealed his tanned, muscular chest and you whimpered when his abs showed themselves. You ran your hands up and pushed the fabric off of his shoulders and he let it slide down his arms to drop to the floor behind him.

He stepped out of his boots and jeans and quickly toed his socks off before reaching out and wrapping his right hand around the back of your neck, yanking you forward. You braced yourself by grabbing his forearm as he spun the two of you around and walked you toward your bed. “I’m going to tie you to your headboard, y/n. You’ve been a good girl and you’re going to get your reward, but you’re going to be restrained, understand me?”

You nodded, excitedly, the thought of being completely at Sam's mercy sending shockwaves through your body. “Yes, sir.”

Sam smirked. “Looks like someone likes the thought of being completely powerless.” He pushed you to the bed and stepped toward your closet. “The Intro Psych class I took makes me say it’s a control issue. You spend all day with people’s lives in your hands, having to be in complete control of yourself and everything happening around you, so there must be something intoxicating about just letting it all go, right?”

“Wouldn’t know, sir. Never get to let it go.”

Sam plucked a scarf from a hanger and pulled it taut, testing its strength. When it passed his test, he turned around. “Lie down, hands above your head.” You did as you were told, pressing your hands together like you were praying. He ran his finger along the seam where your palms touched and smirked. “Good girl. Didn’t even have to tell you.”

You smiled. “I’ve seen a few movies.” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry. I��ve seen some movies, sir.”

He ran the scarf under and around your wrists, twisting and tightening the bind. “What kind of movies, y/n? You like watching other women get tied up?” You nodded. Being tied up had always appealed to you, even before you had people’s lives in your hands, you just hadn’t ever been able to indulge the fantasy. “So, you like being powerless, but you don’t want to be hurt. We’ll have to work on that, y/n, because I would love to mark you up.” He ran the bind up to your headboard and tied it tightly, yanking to make sure it was secure.

He looked down at you, smiling that wildfire smile again that sent a shiver up your spine, and placed his hands on your collarbone. “Ligature marks…” He started to run his hands down your body. “And handprints…” He took your breast in his hands and rolled them against his palms, making you whimper. “And bite marks…” He lightly tweaked your nipples before moving on. “Bruises on your thighs, or maybe on your neck.”

His left hand dipped between your legs and you eagerly spread your thighs. You moaned loudly when the tips of his fingers rubbed down your slit. “Fuck, you are so wet, y/n. Is this from being tied up, or is it from choking on my cock?” You started to answer, but he slipped his thick middle finger in your pussy so all that came out was a strangled moan. Sam gave an airy chuckle as he started to pump the finger in and out of you. “Come on. Answer me, y/n. What’s got you so slick, baby?”

“You, sir. Everything about you.”

He smiled and added a second finger. “You’re so responsive. It’s gonna be so easy to make you cum.” You whined and he flicked his thumb across your clit, making your body jerk. “But I don’t want you to cum, yet. I want to see how long you can hold it back. Can you do that? Can you hold it back?”

You bit your lip. You hadn’t ever tried to stop an orgasm. That was the point of sex, even solo, wasn’t it? “I-I don’t know, b-but I’ll try, sir.”

“Good girl.” He added a third finger and scissored them open, preparing you to take his massive cock. “Do you have any condoms or do I have to dig one out of my jacket?”

“Yes, sir. Side table, buried in the back.” He kept his fingers inside of you as he leaned his long body over to jerk the drawer open and shove his hand past your lotions and errant jewelry and many, many pens to pull out a strand of condoms. He ripped the top one off, threw the others on top of the side table, then pulled the condom open with his teeth. He curled his fingers against your inner walls, dragging them along that special patch as he pulled them out. He took his time rolling the condom up his shaft, making you squirm in anticipation. “Please, Sa- sir. Please.”

He smirked and knelt down between your legs, pushing your knees wide and running the tip of his cock from your clit to your entrance. “I know you don’t want pain, baby, but this next part’s gonna hurt. No avoiding it.”

He wasn’t lying. Even with him preparing you, even with how wet you were and a lubricated condom, the way he stretched your pussy was painful… but you liked it. Even after he gave you time to get used to it, it hurt… until he started to roll his hips. There was no pain once his cock started the push and pull, just pleasure. He moved slowly at first, leaning back to watch himself disappear into your pussy, but it wasn’t long before he was draped over your body, fucking into you with abandon.

“I-I can’t… sir, please, I… I can’t… I’m gonna…” you babbled, tugging at the scarf, feeling a need to touch him.

“Don’t,” he grunted into your ear.

“But I… I can’t…”

“Yes. You can. Just a little longer, baby.” You closed your eyes tight and tried to take deep breaths but every time he thrust into you, he pushed the breath from your lungs in a loud moan.

“Fuck, please, please, please, please…” He slammed his hips forward, making you scream as his cockhead rammed against your cervix, before pulling back to do it again.

“Now. Cum.”

Your vision behind your eyelids filled with multicolored stars, your body going rigid as the most powerful orgasm of your life spread like fire through your nerves. Sam must’ve been right on edge, too, because the fluttering of your vaginal walls made him groan and spill his cum into the condom. You rolled your eyes as you tried to get your eyelids to cooperate, trying to look at Sam as he sat up and pulled out of you. The condom was quickly discarded and the scarf released from the headboard with a deft flick of his fingers.

Sam flopped to the bed next to you, both of you panting heavily and covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “So… am I allowed to call you ‘Sam’ again?” you asked, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

His chuckle shook the bed. “Yeah. I'll tell you when I wanna hear ‘sir’ again.” He turned on his side and took your wrist in his hand. “You okay?”

You nodded. You were more than okay. You felt great. Amazing sex, with your university crush who happened to have become this Adonis in the interim? ‘Okay’ was definitely not a strong enough word for it. “I should’ve talked to you… in college, I should’ve talked to you. I shouldn’t have shut Brady down so quick.”

“You have a thing about your weight. It’s understandable… and Brady was… an evil prick. And it was good for you that you shot him down.” He dropped your wrist and buried his fingers in your hair. “If you had talked to me, I probably would’ve fallen for you and you would have been the one in that fire. So… for you and everyone whose lives you’ve saved since you’ve been a doctor, it’s better you didn’t.”

“Sam…” You trailed off as you looked into his eyes. Thinking about Jessica had filled them with sadness.

“You’re still my type, doc.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, his fingertips gripping your scalp tightly. You rested your hands on his chest and leaned into it, opening your mouth to let him snake his tongue in.

“How long are you in town?” you whispered when he pulled away from the kiss.

“I'm not sure.”

“Can we do this again before you leave?”

Sam smiled. “What do you work tomorrow?”

“I'm off… on call, but off.”

“Lucky us. Me, too. We can do this again all day tomorrow. Assuming you don't get called in.”

You chuckled, pressing your lips to his before snuggling into his chest. “Someday, you’ll have to tell me what you really do for a living, Sam, because… I know a fake badge when I see one.”

He ran his fingers through your hair and pulled your bed sheet over your bodies. “Always were the smartest girl in the class, doc.”

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Percy Jackson, The Avenger

Summary: Percy has an encounter with Nick Fury. A year later, he’s being called on to help protect the world… again. He’s not alone in this Avengers Initiative. A genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist; a super soldier; a green scientist; a Norse god; and two secret agents. What could go wrong?

1 

This chapter has 2,102 words.

2 – I’m Ariel’s Uncle

1 Year Later

Percy was settled on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Annabeth sat above him running her fingers through his hair while his two-year-old sister, Estelle, sat between his legs as they watched The Little Mermaid.

“I can’t believe I’m just now realizing this,” Percy said as the movie ended. “but if Ariel is the daughter of Triton… and Triton’s my brother…”

“It makes you Ariel’s Uncle,” Annabeth concluded, following Percy’s train of thought.

Estelle giggled. “Percy mermaid!”

Percy ruffled her hair affectionately. “I’m not a mermaid. I’m just related to mermaids.”

“Don’t let them hear you calling them mermaids,” Annabeth told him.

“I wasn’t planning on it. Last thing I need is my brother showing up here or in New Rome. We’ve had three years of peace and I don’t plan on breaking that streak anytime soon.”

Sally poked her head in the living room. “Everything going okay?”

“Just finished the Little Mermaid.”

“I seed fish.” Estelle clapped her hands together.

“Saw,” Sally gently corrected. “I saw fish.”

“I seed fish.”

“It’s a pointless battle, Mom.” Percy picked Estelle up and settled her on his hip, gently bounding her. “Wanna join us for a round of Go Fish? We were just about to play.”

Sally frowned. “Actually, I have to run out for a while. And Paul’s still with his friends. Could you watch Estelle for a little while? Maybe take her to the aquarium.”

“The aquarium?” Percy looked affronted.

Annabeth was to quick soothe him. “It’s not like Phorcys. That was cruel, but at an aquarium, fish don’t have to worry about finding food, shelter, or predators. They’re taken care of.” Percy looked skeptical but nodded.

“Thanks guys.” Sally thanked them before grabbing her purse and rushing out.

Estelle grabbed Percy’s hair, yanking hard. Percy gently detangled his hair from his baby sister’s grip. “You wanna go to an aquarium?” He asked, inadvertently taking on a baby voice. Estelle nodded eagerly. Percy sighed, clearly having been hoping for a different. “Seems I’m out-numbered. Shall we?” He held out his hand to Annabeth.

She took it with a smile. “We shall.”

\~*~/

It was a lovely day out. The aquarium wasn’t too crowded as Percy pulled the wagon behind him. Estelle liked the wagon a lot better than she ever did the stroller, mostly because of the noises Percy would sometimes make as he ran with the wagon. Annabeth walked beside the wagon, pointing to all the fish, and making sure Estelle didn’t fall out of the wagon while it was moving.

As soon as they had entered the building, thousands of voices filled Percy’s head. Son of Sea God. Son of Sea God. When they walked by tanks, the fish gravitated towards him. Annabeth found it funny to watch the fish crowding one another to see Percy.

The aquarium, Percy decided, wasn’t too bad. He soon found himself pointing out the different fishes to Estelle. “That’s a Moorish Idol,” Percy told them as they passed a particular tank filled with colorful fish. “They’re omnivores, meaning they eat both plants and animals.” He pointed at another fish. “That’s a black-tailed humbug. They’re more aggressive than other fish, but they’re usually only three to four inches long.” Percy turned back to Annabeth who was staring at him. “What?”

”You just became a walking fish encyclopedia.” Annabeth pointed out. “Honestly, you have a collection of some of the best and weirdest powers ever.”

He chuckled. “I guess. Having my own hurricane? That’s cool. Knowing every fishes’ mating season, not so much.” Percy turned back to Estelle who was standing up. She had her hands pressed against the glass; eyes wide as she watched all the different fish swim by her.

Percy smiled. He turned to the nearest fish.

What’s your name? He asked a Cherub Angelfish, a little blue fish swimming around the coral implants.

My name is Phil, my lord.

Well Phil, do you think you could do me a favor?

Phil swam in a circle excitedly. Of course, my lord. I would be honored.

Do you think you could swim in front of my baby sister? It would mean a lot to me if you did.

If that is what you desire, my lord, then I shall do it.

Estelle giggled ecstatically when Phil swam in front of her. “Look Percy, pretty fish!”

“I see. Every fish needs a name. What do you think, should we name him?”

“Yeah!”

“How’s… Phil?”

“Hi Phil.” Estelle waved at Phil and Percy saw Phil wave back at her. She continued to talk to Phil, blabbing about random things.

Annabeth sidled up next to him. “That was sweet of you.” She whispered.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Of course.” Annabeth’s eyes twinkled, and Percy was reminded just how lucky he was to have her. Looking around, he saw a tank filled with seahorses on the other side. AN idea popped into his head and he grinned. Hey.

Hello, lord, came about a dozen different voices.

So I’m here with my girlfriend and—

Son of Sea God has a girlfriend?

Uh, yes. Do you think—

Is she the tall blonde?

She’s cute.

Think about their babies—

With his eyes and her hair—

No, his hair and her eyes.

Are you crazy?

Percy couldn’t stop the blush creeping up on his neck as the seahorses started arguing about how his and Annabeth’s children would look and oh gods Annabeth’s looking at me now.

“What’s going on Seaweed Brain?” she asked. “You’re blushing like crazy. You okay?”

“I, uh, well, um…” Percy stuttered, not able to say a word because now the seahorses had moved onto the topic of how many kids they would have and the names of each, with the number so far at a total of twenty.

“That’s too many kids,” Percy whispered in horror.

Annabeth frowned. She followed his gaze, looking for a large group for kids that may have entered but found nothing. “What kids? Percy?”

Percy shook his head, his cheeks still very pink. “It’s, it’s nothing.” He waved her off. The dark-haired demigod turned back to the seahorses. Guys, really quick, do you think you could form a big heart?

Are you trying two trying to get it on?

No, I’m not trying to—

Hey guys, we gotta make a heart so our lord and his girlfriend can have the babies.

Wait a sec—

It was a lost cause. The seahorses were already excited and had formed a big heart, linking together. People walking by pointed and started taking out their phones to take photos. Percy gently took Annabeth’s hand and pointed at the tank.

Annabeth’s smile was big. Percy gave her a kiss, ignoring the loud chattering of the seahorses as they cheered him on. “Love you, Wise Girl.”

“I love you too, even if you are a Seaweed Brain.”

They kissed again. This time, they were interrupted by Estelle as she grabbed Percy’s hand and started leading him towards the seahorses. Percy let Estelle lead him towards the tank. Annabeth watched Percy point out different seahorses, saying something that made Estelle giggle.

The scene made her heart warm. Ever since she was seven, she had longed for a family. She thought she had found one with Luke, but that had gone south. With Percy, however, she finally felt that sense of peace that had been missing for so long, she almost didn’t recognize the feeling.

“Thank you,” she told Percy when he walked back over. His brows scrunched up.

“What for?”

  “For just being you.”

Percy smiled. “Come on, let’s go check out the sea lion performance.

\~*~/

The rest of the day went by quick. They saw the sea lions perform, went to the touch pool, and got ice cream before leaving. It was only five-thirty when they left the aquarium, so Annabeth decided they should go out to eat dinner.

They skipped past the seafood restaurants that Percy hated and continued on until they reached a small diner. It took them two and a half hours to order, eat, and pay the bill, and by the time they walked back out, the sun had started setting. The trio made their way back to Sally and Paul’s apartment.

Walking down the hall, Percy felt like nothing could ruin the moment.

“Mom, we’re home,” Percy called out as they entered the apartment. Annabeth started unpacking the wagon while Percy took the sleeping Estelle into his arms. He entered the living room, expecting to see his mom and Paul watching TV together on the couch.

Instead, Percy found his mom serving cookies to a man he’d never seen before. Percy didn’t know suits well enough, but he figured that it was expensive. It fit the man well, not like the baggy ones that he and his friends had worn to school dances.

His mom turned to him, her face tense. “Percy, this man says he’s here to see you. Says he from…”

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division.” The man said quickly. He stood up and held out his hand for Percy to shake. “But we call it SHIELD for short.”

Percy froze. He had forgotten all about the incident that had happened a year ago. The demigod couldn’t believe how rotten his luck was. He could recall the terms for his freedom, and he specifically remembered promising Pirate-man he’d fight for him if ever needed. The odds, he thought, would’ve been small, not Olympian throne room sized.

Sally noticed the look on her son’s face and stepped forward. “I’m sorry sir but I think you’re going to have to leave.”

Coulson dropped his hand, and looked over at Sally, noticing her protective stance. He held his hands up in surrender, backing away from Percy. “I meant no harm, Mrs. Blofis.”

“Mom,” Percy spoke up. An awkward tension still hung in the air. “It’s fine.” It’s not. He handed Estelle to his mom, who squirmed a little before falling back asleep. “Here, we wore her out for you. Ask Annabeth for the bag from the gift shop, there should be a stuffed animal in there that we bought for her.”

Sally hesitated, staring at Percy for another moment, wanting an explanation but not pressing for one at the moment. She gave the man a quick glance before exiting the room. The man lowered his arms. “Sorry to bother you like this, but we need your help.” The man held out his hand for a second time. “Agent Coulson.”

“Percy Jackson—” Percy shook the man’s hand. “—but I’m sure you already knew that. Your group seems like the ‘stalker’ type. Except less Facebook and more personal.” He dropped the other man's hand and heaved out a sigh. “So Pirate guy has a fight?”

If Coulson was amused by Percy’s nickname for the serious director, he didn’t let it show. “This isn’t just a matter of national security,” he said casually like it was something he experienced every day, and coming from his line of work, it easily could’ve been. “The stake of the whole world, and possibly more, is on the line right now.”

“Am I doing this by myself or…”

“You’ll be part of a team. You specifically will be out there in the fighting.” Coulson handed him a small packet. Percy was surprised to find it in Greek. He quickly flipped through a couple of pages, seeing lots of words and not enough pictures. The pictures he did see varied—one featured a man-shaped suit of red and gold armor; another featured a huge green monster.

“Please don’t tell me I’ll have to wear a suit.” Percy pointed to a picture of a man wearing a tight red, white and blue suit with a shield. “I’m just saying this now, I don’t do the whole spandex thing.”

This time, Percy got a smile out of Coulson. “Duly noted.” The agent’s phone beeped. “Hang on a sec,” he pulled the phone out answered. “You get him? I’m on my way now, just finishing up with… okay.” He pulled the phone away.

“You have somewhere else you need to be?” Percy asked, gesturing to the phone.

Coulson nodded. “It was nice meeting you. And tell your mother I said thank you for the cookies however… blue they were.” The man was gone a second later. As soon as the apartment door closed, Annabeth and Sally peaked their heads out of Estelle’s nursery.

“Care to explain what that was?” Annabeth asked.

Percy swallowed, turning to his confused girlfriend and mom. “Surprise.” He said weakly.

3

[komorebirei]

The Water Was Never Afraid - Chapter 12: Current

(AO3)

Chat Noir landed on the roof of Montparnasse Tower, a step behind Ladybug.

“All’s quiet on the east side,” he reported.

“Same on the west side,” Ladybug returned.

For the past six months that they had been doing these weekly patrols, they hadn’t come across anything; the mere sight of them probably deterred most petty street crimes, and there hadn’t been any akuma activity.

Chat Noir had decided not to tell Ladybug about Hawkmoth. If he did, she would want to take action to put him behind bars, or at least take the miraculous from him. If he went to jail, he would be disgraced in front of the public. The Gabriel brand would suffer. Everything would change.

And, honestly, Adrien understood why his father had done everything he had. He didn’t agree with it, but he knew his father wasn’t evil. He was desperate, depressed, a little unstable, and had a skewed sense of perspective at times, but once he got out of this rut, he would be okay. They didn’t need the law stepping in and making the situation worse. This was something they could fix on their own.

It didn’t feel good to keep secrets from her, but his family was at stake.

“Well, milady.” Chat Noir stepped up to her. “I suppose we’ll call it a night.” He held out his fist.

Ladybug touched the fist with her own. Even though they weren’t fighting akumas anymore, they still bumped fists before parting ways, like a cherished tradition. “Before you go, Chat Noir…”

He met her eyes, and realized the way she was looking at him was different from usual.

“Are you okay?”

A shot of trepidation ran through Chat Noir. Had he let too much emotion show? He smiled instinctively. “Of course, Bugaboo. Why?”

She tilted her head, as if trying to see him better from another angle. “Really? I thought you never lied to me, Chat Noir.” Her voice was quiet and serious.

He didn’t have the heart to deny it a second time after that. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. Things are a little tense in my civilian life, but I have a friend who’s been very supportive, so … I’ll be okay.”

“A friend from your civilian life?”

From the way he hesitated, the guilty look in his eyes, and the shrug and half-nod instead of a confident ‘Yes,’ Ladybug realized heartbreakingly that the friend was probably herself. Marinette.

Though it saddened her that Chat Noir didn’t have anyone he could talk to as a civilian, and she wondered why not, she was at least glad that he trusted her enough to open up to her, and that he wasn’t completely alone.

So, she didn’t press him for any more information. Though she cared, his civilian life wasn’t something Ladybug should be asking about. Grasping his hand in a show of affection and support, she smiled. “I’m glad you have a friend to lean on. I hope things get better, Chat Noir. Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

Chat Noir squeezed her hand, grateful for the extra dose of warmth that she was giving him. A pang of longing stabbed his heart as she retracted it. He still loved her, but it had grown into a calm, tender love that resided in him like a subtle warmth. When she did something like this, though, that warmth started to sting, like holding a hand over a candle for too long.

“I’ll see you next week at the usual spot, LB,” Chat Noir said, flashing her a grin. With a parting salute, he flipped over the side of the building and bounded away.

—

Adrien’s phone rang at 9:00 a.m. on the dot Monday morning, just as he was preparing to go into a budget meeting.

“Yes, Father?”

“Good morning, Adrien. Are you in the office?”

“Yes.”

“Whatever you have planned for the morning, please make sure you’re covered or reschedule. You’re needed in the second floor studio for fittings.”

Adrien balked. “Fittings?”

“You heard me—the photoshoot is on Wednesday. I trust it won’t be a problem for you to do some modeling.”

“No,” Adrien sighed, choosing his battles. With a goodbye to his father, he hung up and called out to Celeste, who was passing by on her way to the meeting. “Can you take notes for me and bring up the points that I mentioned to you? You wrote them down, right?”

Celeste nodded, tucking a silky ginger lock behind her ear. “Yes, sir. On both counts.”

“I’m counting on you, Celeste,” he said with a grin, which disappeared as soon as he exited his office and turned the opposite way toward the elevators. He wasn’t excited to start modeling again.

The second floor studio was a bustle of activity. Camille was the head designer of this studio, but she had several interns under her, and a small team of seamstresses to help with production. There were four large tables in the center of the room, and the edges were lined with counters and drawers. Mannequins were set up around the room, and articles of clothing and notions were strewn everywhere in organized chaos, at varying stages of completion. Adrien scanned the room for Camille.

“Adrien! Over here,” a voice beckoned him, and his eyes caught the rapid movement of a hand waving him over.

He locked eyes with Marinette, and his widened in surprise. Memories of the other night rose unbidden to his mind—of the floral scent of her shampoo, her gentle fingers kneading the back of his head, her slender, bare legs draped over his arm as he carried her to bed.

He took a deep breath, forcing the thoughts out of his mind. Those thoughts were definitely inappropriate on so many levels. He made his way across the floor to where she was, at a table on the edge of the studio across from a row of curtained changing booths. Her immediate surroundings looked neater than the rest of the studio; he figured she had tidied up for the fitting.

“Marinette,” he greeted her jovially. “I didn’t expect it to be you.”

“It seems your father liked the idea of you actually modeling for my feature,” she said with a shrug, picking up a tape measure from the table.

As Marinette moved around, gathering some additional supplies, he couldn’t help but appreciate her sense of style. She was wearing a loose, white chiffon boat-neck blouse with a colorful bird pattern, tucked neatly into light brown trousers that hugged her hips, bound with a thin black belt. A joke about birds and cats sprang to his mind, but he pushed it deep down in favor of a more professional topic.

“Is this for Style Queen?”

“Yup. I still can’t believe Audrey is doing this. I was so sure she’d written me off after I rejected her offer to take me to New York.”

Adrien smiled at the memory. “Chloé probably never told you, but she was really grateful toward you for that. Her mom was always a sore spot with her since we were kids. I’m pretty sure she owes it to you that she even has a relationship with her mom now.”

“They seemed to be getting along well at the party,” Marinette commented, putting several folded garments in his hands and leading him toward one of the changing booths with a hand on his back. It was just a normal gesture—designers were used to pushing around models as if they were literal mannequins, and Adrien was used to going with the flow—but Adrien couldn’t help but be reminded yet again of the other night, of the way Marinette had led him inside her flat and wrapped him in her embrace as he sobbed.

Thinking about it made his heart beat faster. It was weird after all. It was weird to know he had experienced that with her, and he was right in front of her now, knowing it, but she had no idea. He felt like he was tricking her, somehow.

Once he was hidden from view inside the changing booth, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath to regain a semblance of inner peace, before making any moves to change into the garments.

He was used to hiding things. This was nothing new. He had interacted with people he knew as Chat Noir on a daily basis and had to play dumb as Adrien—he had been doing it for years.

He came out to see Marinette leaning against the table, waiting for him. Her face brightened when he caught her eye, and she looked him up and down. Even though it was normal for a fitting, he felt strangely self-conscious to have her checking out his body. No, he corrected mentally, the clothes.

“Everything looks pretty good, actually,” Marinette remarked, circling around him and pinching the fabric here and there, inserting a few pins. “I don’t have to do much.”

“That’s good news,” Adrien said, fighting to keep the warmth that was threatening to spread to his face. He started to feel hot, and could feel the hairs of his neck standing on end when Marinette checked the collar and her fingers brushed his skin.

Just as Adrien was starting to worry about sweating on Marinette’s works-in-progress, she put another stack of clothes into his hands and shooed him into the changing booth.

“So,” Adrien struck up conversation during the second fitting, in an attempt to make things less awkward. “Who’s modeling the women’s wear? Did you get roped into that, too?”

Marinette laughed, a sound so delightful that Adrien couldn’t help but seek out her face to see the expression that accompanied it. “No,” she answered, “we’re hiring someone to do it. She’s coming in this afternoon for her fitting.”

“Ah,” Adrien said, a little disappointed. “I bet you would have done great, anyway. It would have been cool to see you in your own designs.”

“You’re seeing it now,” Marinette teased, making a playful ‘model pose.’

“Right, I should have guessed! You look fabulous,” Adrien exclaimed sheepishly, finding it suddenly difficult to meet her eyes, let alone give her outfit another close look.

“Thanks for that vote of confidence, anyway.” Marinette resumed pinning the current outfit and jotting down notes in a small pad, before handing him the next set of clothes.

He eyed the table to gauge how many outfits were left. His heart was racing, his hands were sweaty, and he felt like he couldn’t breathe right. Since when did he feel this way around Marinette?

He suffered through the rest of the fitting in relative silence, afraid he would accidentally give his flustered state away if he tried to engage her in more conversation.

Maybe it had been a mistake to visit Marinette again as Chat Noir. He hadn’t expected that it would make working with her so awkward. Then again, he didn’t usually work with her in such close quarters as today.

When the fitting was complete, Adrien took his leave. On his way back to his office, he dipped into the bathroom across the hall, stopping in front of the mirror. As expected, his cheeks were flushed. He groaned in frustration, annoyed that his complexion gave away too much, too easily. Turning on the faucet, he wet his hands and dragged them across his face, trying to cool down.

“My, my, my. This is interesting.”

Adrien glared at Plagg in the mirror. The kwami was floating in the air over his right shoulder, tiny fangs glinting as he smirked. “What’s interesting?”

“I’ve never seen you react like that to Bakery Girl before.”

“It was just weird!” Adrien retorted defensively. “It hit me that what happened the other day as Chat Noir was kind of… intimate,” he confessed. “Maybe I shouldn’t have visited her.”

Plagg lost a little of his smug attitude, landing on Adrien’s shoulder. “I’m gonna be honest, kid, I think you needed it that day.”

“Maybe…” Adrien sucked in a long breath and held it before letting it out slowly. He grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser and dabbed at his face. “Maybe I did. But what am I supposed to do now? I feel like I’m deceiving her.”

“Why would you feel like that?”

“She doesn’t know she kissed Adrien Agreste on the cheek and let him pick her up in her skimpy pajamas and bring her to her bed…” Heat flooded his face, just thinking about it.

Plagg regained his smirk. “She was comforting her friend. She would have done the same for Adrien, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know, Plagg… we were never that close…”

“What I find interesting,” Plagg came around in front of Adrien’s face and looked him in the eyes, practically dancing with mischief, “is that you’re so focused on those details.”

Adrien’s blush deepened, feeling despicable to be skewing an innocent gesture from one friend to another.

“I’d almost think you had feelings for Bakery Girl.”

Adrien gasped. “Plagg! I’m in a relationship, for goodness’ sake! Stop trying to plant ideas!”

Plagg cackled. “Too late. The seeds are already there.”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

Plagg did a loop-de-loop in the air. “Maybe Bee Girl was on to something.”

“Okay, enough,” Adrien said, getting angry. “I’m dating someone, it’s absolutely wrong to be implying these things.” Tossing the wad of paper towels in the garbage, he stormed out of the bathroom to look for Celeste.

[nekoabi]

On the Verge of a Heartbreak - Chapter 21

And we’re back to your semi-regularly scheduled stupid gays! KH3 was awesome and it was nice to take a break, but man, I was so excited to come back to this fic! I love it so much!

Pairings: Moxiety, OC/OC Words: 2376 Warnings: Food mention, Anxiety mention, Panic attack mention. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: The brainstorming begins.

“Right!”

Patton jumped at the loud snap-like noise. He was a little confused as to how he’d managed to find himself squished between Asher and Reggie on Reggie’s sofa, along with Daniel and Thomas on the other sides of the two he was between while Sophia - smartly - sat on the floor in front of him, resting against his legs. He had almost no recollection of the events that had transpired since he’d been on the phone with Abigal, except the lingering feeling of dread that hung at the bottom of his stomach whenever he thought back to it.

But he didn’t have time to think about that right now. Abigal was standing in front of all of them with an extendable pointer stick, portable projector screen set up behind her and the projector whirring away on the shelf behind the rest of them. To the other side of her was a large wheeled whiteboard, one of the ones you could flip over for more space. She was looking exaggeratedly serious, the end of the pointer resting on the whiteboard. That cleared up Patton’s first question of where the hell that loud snapping noise come from.

“We’re all aware of why we’re here, correct?”

Everyone gave her various indications that they had little to no idea what she was talking about.

Abigal sighed dramatically and dropped her serious façade, “Are you all serious right now? Really?” She searched each of their faces but ultimately realised she’d have to explain, “We’re all here to figure out the best way for Patton to realise that he and Virgil are perfect for each other and how he can ask him out and when he should do it.”

“What?!” Patton squeaked.

“Patton. I told you about this. When we were on the phone. Keep up.”

Patton could feel himself getting flustered. Yes, he did remember Abigal saying they were going to have a brainstorming session, but he didn’t think it would be nearly this big… or have this many people involved.

Thomas put his hand up and Abigal pointed the stick in his direction, indicating he could speak, “What is the projector for, if we’re all brainstorming ideas?”

Abigal laughed haughtily, “Oh, sweet Thomas. Sweet, naïve little Thomas… You think I don’t already have some fantastic ideas that I’m going to share with you all?”

Everyone’s faces contorted into some form of horror or disbelief at her statement, all eyes watching her carefully as she moved behind them all to start up the presentation she’d worked on.

It felt like hours could have passed in the time it took Abigal to finish her ideas. There weren’t many and she definitely communicated them well in picture format in her presentation, but there was much to be desired in her verbal communication.

She naturally was a fast speaker, Patton had realised this long ago, but he’d never had a problem with it until today. He couldn’t keep up with her rambles about each of her ideas, especially as she was getting into the finest of details. It was just too much, too quick. Patton also began to notice that her habit of wildly veering off topic, which he would usually find endearing, was not suited for a presentation like this. Along with her fast pace, the twisting through many topics just confused Patton even more. Eventually, he semi-gave up listening to her and focused on what she had on the projector. Her notes and plans were detailed wonderfully on the screen and Patton appreciated it very much.

When it seemed she was never going to finish and at least an hour had actually passed, Patton felt the body to his left move off of the sofa. He watched as Reggie crossed the short gap over to Abigal.

“Excuse me! Please remain seated until the en- mmpfh!”

There was an immediate sense of relief as Abigal’s voice was cut off by Reggie kissing her. She immediately seemed to lose track of whatever she was doing as she didn’t push him off, instead she seemed to melt in Reggie’s arms that had come to hold her. Patton could feel how tense he’d clearly gotten as his muscles began to finally relax. He looked around at the rest of his friends, sharing looks and smiles with them all.

Sophia was the first to get tired of the couple in front of them, “Okay lovebirds, this isn’t how I wanted to spend my weekend. Let’s get to brainstorming.”

A few pouts and giggles later, Abigal moved the whiteboard in front of the projector screen. She flipped the board over to show that she’d already written her ideas down on that side, but had left a large space for the others to fill, “Right, so, what ideas do everyone else have?”

It began with more simple ideas than what Abigal had proposed in her presentation; things like using cliché romantic gestures like flowers or chocolates, writing a letter or something similar. All of the ones they agreed upon were added to the list, but several were dropped quickly - most of them being Reggie ideas that ranged from exceptionally stupid to borderline illegal.

“No way! A flash mob is an awful idea!” Patton stared incredulously at Reggie, practically in shock that he’d even suggest such a thing, “Firstly, it would give Virgil the biggest panic attack because he’d be the centre of attention!”

Reggie merely shrugged, “Okay, fine. Get the clowns to-”

Patton almost screeched, “NO!”

“Régis.” Abigal’s voice crossed through the madness, silencing the room as she glared across at her boyfriend, “Enough.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped back to Reggie. For the first time any of them could recall, the boy looked extremely shocked and unable to conjure up any retort. He gaped for a second, but then noticed all the eyes on him and attempted to compose himself again.

“How about…,” Asher broke through the now awkward tension of the room, “we ask Patton what Virgil likes?”

As everyone seemed to register what a good idea that would be, Asher turned and shared a gentle smile with Daniel. Patton could only assume it was Daniel’s idea but, as usual, he was a little too scared to speak his mind.

“Well… Virgil likes art a lot and music…” Patton began to list off things Virgil liked, ranging from his hobbies to things relating to his aesthetic and style. While he listed verbally, Abigal had turned and began scrawling down all the things on the opposite side of the whiteboard. By the time he’d finished everything he wanted to say, Patton could see that half of the board was now full of scribbles. “So… what now?”

“I guess we have to find something that can link what you want to do with what Virgil likes?” Thomas offered, reading over the list in front of them all.

More time passed as everyone tried their hardest to come up with an idea.

“What about working with his family and covering his room in post-in notes?” Abigal said, her eyes focused on the ceiling as she spoke.

Patton hummed in thought. He looked back towards his friend who had moved from standing next to the board to laying on the couch, resting against her boyfriend, “Well, why post-it notes?”

Abigal shrugged, “I dunno… something that can be kept or documented or something? Each one has something cute on it that you like about him, have one that’s a different colour that asks him out?”

“Awww… that’s so cute! But…”

Abigal groaned, “There’s always a but…”

“Virgil doesn’t like change and his stuff being different, it makes him really anxious, so that’s probably not a good idea…” Patton nibbled on the tip of his thumb as he thought, an apologetic look being sent to his friend.

Everyone around was either deep in thought or seemingly exhausted. Patton looked over all of his friends, before locking eyes with Reggie who seemed to be the only one truly awake. There was a silent plea for him to help which he easily responded to.

Reggie moved Abigal off of him, stood and then pulled her up off of the sofa, “We’ll go make lunch. Everyone okay with that?” There was a round of agreement before the pair wandered over into the kitchen.

This left Sophia, Asher, Thomas and Daniel left to come up with ideas. They all offered ideas that varied wildly, but each one Patton was able to shoot down because of something or another. Things like using a skywriter were more to do with the lack of funds and knowledge of how to organise such a thing, while other ideas were shot down due to Virgil’s high levels of anxiety and what would trigger him the most.

One of Sophia’s more reasonable ideas included getting people at school to help out with a scavenger hunt, but Daniel piped up before Patton had to.

“Uh, I don’t want to interrupt, but… that doesn’t sound like a good idea…” Daniel shuffled on the spot, “I mean, Patton had said that Virgil gets really anxious about a lot of things… and I see that he’d been anxious about talking with people… so that probably wouldn’t work?”

Patton quickly agreed, “Yeah, Virgil wouldn’t like that at all. Plus, he doesn’t really know a lot of people besides us.”

As the time wore on, Sophia was getting more and more frustrated with the constant excuses.

“Maybe you could write him something? A song?” Sophia offered testily from her spot laying on the floor.

Patton turned to her from where he stood in front of the board and frowned, “No… I don’t know how to do that, and I can’t play any instruments or anything…”

“Well, I’m out.” Sophia closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She began to mutter something to herself, but no one could make out what it was, and they weren’t exactly all that interested in figuring it out.

Daniel, who’d taken up the mantle of the new scribe, crossed off several of the notes written on the list. Patton’s frown deepened as he saw how little left they really had to go off of.

“Why is this so difficult?” Patton said to no one in particular.

“Probably because you’re making this way more complex than it has to be?” Asher offered helpfully, sounding exasperated. Patton looked back to them, his head tilting like a confused puppy, which prompted them to continue, “You can just, y’know… ask him out? Without all the fancy shit.”

Everything went silent. All noise dissipated as everyone in the room considered Sophia’s words, even the pair working in the kitchen had stopped. A few moments pass before a noise comes from the kitchen.

“Huh… never thought about that…”

Patton was almost sure if Sophia could have, her eyes would have rolled right out of her head, “Of course you never have, Reggie. You’re the most extra fucking person we know.”

“Taking that as a compliment!” Reggie threw back in an attempt at a sing-song voice.

“Of course you would!” Sophia mocked his tone with her response.

Patton was still thinking over what she’d said. He could just ask Virgil out, but was that what he wanted to do? It didn’t feel special, but then… maybe that’s what could make it even more special? He turned and looked at the board with all their ideas scribbled across it, raking his eyes across all the work they’d put in.

Then something clicked. He didn’t know what sparked it but Patton suddenly had a vivid memory of sitting with his brother a few years back, the year before Patton had started high school. They were sat on his brother’s bed, flicking through some books together. There were some beautiful flowers sat on the desk and Patton had asked about them, moving to get a better look at them. Roman had immediately stopped him but explained what they were. He then went on to ask if Patton knew about the language of flowers.

“No, what’s that?” Patton had asked, staring at the beautiful dark blue flowers that sat on the desk.

“It’s exactly what you think it might be.” Roman had laughed, teasing without making Patton feel bad, “Each flower has a meaning and when you put them together in a bouquet, you can say a lot of things.”

Patton’s eyes had sparkled, “That’s so pretty! What do those flowers mean?”

Roman had avoided the question expertly, Patton now realised as he thought back on the situation. He’d never found out what those flowers meant, but it didn’t exactly matter right now.

The boy was almost jolted back to the present and his idea was formulated so perfectly in his mind.

“ASHER!” He spun and pointed to his friend, causing them to jump. Patton sheepishly apologised, “Sorry, I just had an idea and I’m excited. Anyway! You know flowers really well, right?!”

“Yeah…?”

“Can you teach me?! I wanna use it!”

Asher glanced between Patton and the board. They tapped just under where Daniel had crossed out ‘Flowers’, “Uh, Patton? We already gave up on that one.”

“Yeah, you said Virgil wouldn’t like the idea of having to keep flowers and that he’d get upset if they died or be too stressed about keeping them alive.” Daniel said quietly from the side of the board.

Patton simply grinned, “Oh, I don’t want to get him actual flowers! I just want to use the language of it!”

Everyone in the room simply looked at Patton in various states of confusion, but before they could even ask what he meant or what his plan was, Reggie and Abigal entered with plates of food. They decided to all take a break to have lunch, letting them all rest their brains for a bit.

Patton couldn’t relax, his brain was churning with how he was going to use everything Asher could teach him. He could do so many things that he knew Virgil would like, and it would be a permanent message for his best friend to keep. If it all went badly, he just wouldn’t let the boy know that the flowers meant something specific. It was going to be perfect, no matter how long it took.

Last Chapter —– Next Chapter

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

Abigal and Ayana belong to me. Reggie belongs to @not-so-innocent-bi-sander Daniel belongs to @doces-e--tuga Ana, Em and Asher belongs to @fangsandrainbows Sophia belongs to @notalwaysthevillian

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[amethystdarkwolf]

Known? Or Known Of?

AU: Highschool au

Ship: Patceit

Prompt: x

Requested by: x

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, mention of past manipulation, Let me know if I missed any!

Summary: Patton finally has enough with everyone telling him that their partner that they love will only hurt them, and decides to make a stand.

POV: 3rd

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Side note: This is all based on concepts me and @side-for-sides came up with :D Also, Dee is obviously Deceit, they are Agender and though it isn't really mentioned, Patton is Genderfluid in our original concepts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~  

Roman said it was better this way, well it certainly didn't feel like it. Logan stated that the stories he had heard would prove to make it horrible for them, it only made it worse when he heard the same stories every single time he even went to mention his sweetheart. Virgil gave only a glare and a stern warning, not to even dare to try to talk to him. Patton really, really wished he had not listened to those several words. Those words saying that the one he was so head over heels for would just aim to hurt him, that they would never feel the same for him. He didn't want to believe it. All of their words couldn't be faked...

But now he was here, at lunch with Roman, Logan, and Virgil. All of them laughing and joking like nothing was different, while Patton tried so, so desperately to keep from breaking down again. His head rested against the cafeteria table, the only one that seemed to notice the change in the pattern was Logan. "Patton, something is incredibly different than normal." Before Patton got to lift his head and answer, Roman stopped talking and switched topics, a wide grin spreading across his face, "Oh! You haven't heard! Patton finally got some sense and broke it off with that lying scoundrel!" He spoke with such pure joy and enthusiasm that all of Patton's willpower broke. He began quietly sobbing, due to the level of noise the cafeteria normally had, they barely seemed to hear him.

Virgil smiled, "Trust me, it's way better, things like him only aim to hurt and manipulate others. You'll thank us later." Patton finally looked up, taking off his glasses to wipe his eyes, "Them..." he corrected quietly, "They use they/them..." Roman's gaze fell noticing the state the poor boy was in, "Patton, we knew them, they lied to Virgil borderline manipulated them. People like that don't change, they're born with a wicked heart and wish to ruin others for their own sadistic needs." The other two only nodded in reply. Patton shook his head, he said not another word, as he put his glasses back on and gathered his stuff, planning on spending the rest of the lunch period sobbing in the bathroom, which is exactly what he did, receiving little resistance from the others.

They thought it would end there, they thought that Patton would get over them, but of course, he didn't. As that Wednesday, he showed up, wearing that black leather jacket, a few fake spikes along the shoulders. It was a size or two too big for him, and immediately the others knew whose it was. Roman got up and walked over to him, rolled his eyes, "Patton are you serious??" he snapped, much more force behind his voice than he intended, making the smaller flinch, clutching the jacket tighter around himself. "It's only going to upset you more," Roman's voice was now not as heated, but it was obvious that annoyance was still very clear in his tone.

Patton just looked down and away, pulling on the sleeves of the black jacket to cover his hands, "It's not fair..." He murmured, "It's not fair to let the past affect someone else's relationship with someone." Roman glared, "We've been over this, Patton! Listen, we care about you, you are an extraordinary person, you're sweet and caring, and so adorable, but I warned you about them when you first got here. They only hurt people, they're manipulative, they're just a disgusting human being void of all sense of sympathy," he placed his hand on Patton's shoulder, "Trust us, we've known them longer."

That made Patton snap, pushing Roman's arm off of him, "You haven't known them longer, Roman, you've known of them longer! You don't know them, not like I do! Sure they came off as intimidating or scary or something like that, and yeah! They messed up! Everyone makes mistakes! I certainly have! They were sweet, they, they're so so kind to me! And, and it wasn't just behind closed doors that they were nice! They were always the same to me, no matter where we were! You just purposely forgot about that! You forgot about all of that! Because you're hung up on the past. Do you not realize you're hurting me more than they ever even tried to??" He sniffled, trying not to break down into sobs.

Roman froze at that, he... no... no of course not, he wasn't harming Patton, he was making sure that someone malicious didn't harm someone so sweet! Patton shook his head, "I love them. You and Virgil, and... and Logan are making me suffer, because of something that happened, before I even knew any of you! And I'm sorry, I can't take it anymore, if you don't want to be friends with me because I want to still be with them, then so be it." His voice was stern and serious, something that rarely happened.

There was a beat of silence as Roman tried to decide what was truly right, maybe, maybe they had changed... They didn't seem to want to harm him when Roman first confronted them... He sighed, "Patton, I just want to make sure that you're alright." Patton nodded, "And I will be, but you can't be judgmental of my relationship with them anymore, the only reason I ended it was because I was so tired of you guys constantly telling me that I would get hurt when I knew that wasn't the truth." Roman glanced back to the table where Logan and Virgil sat, seemingly unaware of the two's conversation, sighing, "Alright, Patton, I'll... I'll talk to them, and we'll see if we can get this figured out..." He said a bit more optimistically than he had been.

Patton shook his head, "That is if they take me back..." he murmured, "let's... let's just not say anything until I talk to them, they won't answer my texts, or calls and they haven't been to class..." Roman felt a twinge of guilt and pain in his heart but tried not to let on that he felt bad. He nodded, "Alright then, I won't say a word." He lead Patton over to their table, Virgil immediately giving a sharp glare at the jacket, but of course not saying anything. Roman kept his promise and the rest of the day went without the mention of them.

It all happened that night. It was dark, pouring down rain heavily, but here Patton stood, on their doorstep. His shaking hands quickly he knocked on the door before he could decide against it, he had to know if maybe he could fix it. He hoped he didn't hurt them, and if he did, then maybe at least they would know they didn't mean to, not for the reason they probably thought. It was a bit before the door slowly creaked open. Patton's eyes widened, "Dee..." they whispered. The punk teen was already thin before all of this, but now they looked almost skeletal.

They gave a similar look of shock and surprise as they observed the small boy shivering and soaking wet. It only took them a second of hesitation to snap out of their stunned state before they quickly pulled Patton inside and shut the door. "Take your shoes off, I'll be right back." They murmured, their voice cracking just slightly. That made Patton worry even more as they left, why did they look like they were crying? Or were about to?? He didn't make them cry, did he?? Those questions swam through his head as he slipped off his soaked sneakers.

Dee came back with a soft towel, an old T-shirt and a pair of pajama pants for Patton to change into, they handed them to him, "You know where the bathroom is..." Patton gave a small smile as he took the clothes, "Thank you." He quickly headed towards the bathroom to get changed. The clothes were warm, dry, and smelled like Dee. That comforting scent, Patton had missed so so much. He only hesitated a moment longer, before walking back out to the living room where Dee was. Dee was murmuring incoherently to themselves, Patton frowned as he picked out a few harsh words from the rambling.

They weren't directed at him as he feared, they were directed more to themselves, which honestly hurt Patton more than if they had been directed at him. Before he could even think, he was quickly rushing over to wrap his arms around Dee in a fairly loose hug in comparison to his other ones. The taller teen obviously jolted back in surprise, too wrapped up in their own mind to hear Patton come in. They paused for a second, before gently picking Patton up and sitting back down on the couch so he could cuddle up to them. Touch was a big thing for him, and if they were being honest with themselves, it was for Dee too.

There were a few moments of emotionally tense, yet physically comfortable silence. Dee decided they had to break it, they had to know, "Why are you here?" the smaller male cuddling up to them looked up at the question, a guilty and embarrassed expression clear on his face, "I thought you hated me." They finished, their voice was much quieter and fainter than Patton was used to. Patton shook his head, his eyes widening, he had not used that phrasing at all when he ended things, did.. Did they really think that? "No... No not at all! I'm... I'm... I'm so sorry, Dee. I... I could never hate you," his voice wavered, he bit his lip and sniffled in an attempt to keep control over himself so he didn't cry, yet, "It... I'm sorry, I never should have ended it for this reason, especially when it wasn't because of my own feelings..."

Dee looked at him, confused, "What do you mean?" Patton only paused again to try to think of how to properly explain it, "Virgil, Roman... And Logan, they kept trying to convince me of things that I knew weren't true about you... That you only wanted to hurt me, that you didn't care, that you were manipulative, void of sympathy, malicious, toxic" He couldn't hold back the tears that slowly fell down his face, "But I know that's not you..." Dee felt their heart twist and shatter all at once, they brought their hand that wasn't around Patton to cup his cheek, thumbing away at the small tears that ran down his face.

"I really shouldn't be surprised that your friends hate me..." they muttered, before sighing, "Patton, I..." They hesitated, feeling their throat figuratively close up, they were so nervous, "I love you. A lot. That's the truth." They stated. Patton's heart stuttered, as he smiled, "I love you too!" he beamed. His smile turned just a bit shy as he hesitantly asked, "Does... Does this mean, that you'd be willing to try again?" Dee chuckled, "Of course, I'd love that."  

[Taglist under the cut, ask to be added or removed]

Sanders Sides Taglist:  @starryfirefliesbloggo  @weirdsthenewnormal @purpleshipper @darkle-elkrad @just-an-anxious-mess @emo-potato-virgil @kaymischief25 @pinkpandapancakes  @blueeyedscorpion @rayndropsonrosez @ts-random-pictures  @aurinkari @itsme98z  @lunacatzuniverse @illogicaldeath @heretoreadmyfics @echomist13 @crownswriter123 @logan-smarter-than-you-sanders @never-saygood-bye @side-for-sides   @shattereddreamsamongotherthings @riley-castillo @anonymous-gay-rainbow164  

[halcyonnhood]

Congrats and Condolences [Ashton Irwin]

Summary: Ashton and his girlfriend Mia discover that they are expecting and all of their friends are extremely excited about it. Until the boys leave for tour and are called to come home for the unimaginable. 

Rating: PG-13 (?)

Warnings: Angst, Miscarriage, and mentions of blood. Lightly talks about religion and praying.

Word Count: 2.2k (oops?)

Authors Note: This topic is a very sensitive topic, this is something very near and dear to my heart. I’m not honestly a very good writer and I’m not sure this will get very many notes, but as I said, this is very important to me. I did mention religion, because it’s something that got me through some rough patches, but it isn’t overpowering or anything. Also, Calum is mentioned a lot, because he’s an important piece of this, I mean, he’s Ashton and Mia’s best friend :) Leave some feedback. (also unedited cause I finished this at 7am with no sleep) 

Mia can remember the exact day that she found out she was pregnant, she had been sitting on a hotel toilet and looking at the florescent pink stick held securely in her hand. She had to look at the box twice to make sure that what she was looking at was correct and after staring at it she realized that, indeed, two lines meant it was positive. Being both shocked and ecstatic was an understatement, she just knew she had to show Ashton immediately. Later that night, the second he unlocks the door, she is holding the pink stick towards him. 

“Two lines..” Ashton looks up at Mia with a raised eyebrow. “That means..”

“It’s positive, Ash!” Mia beams at him with excitement. 

“Seriously? This isn’t a joke?” Ashton asks cautiously.

“Seriously.” She nods enthusiastically. 

“This is such good news babe!” Ashton swiftly pulls her in to kiss her forehead and hug her close. “We’re going to have a baby!”

Ashton could never quite contain his excitement and joy for the family they were creating. He was more than ready to have a family with Mia, he loves her more than he ever thought was possible and now that she’s carrying his child? He just can’t wrap his mind around how insanely lucky he is. It only took a few days for the two to tell the boys and their parents, everyone was emotional and happy for the young couple. Mia still particularly favors Calums reaction, he was absolutely floored by the news. 

“You’re actually having a baby?” Calum questions. He stares at Mia carefully with a small smile. 

“An actual baby” Mia responds with a silly grin and nodding. 

“No way” Calum says, even though he breaks out in an enormous smile and instinctively goes for a hug. “That’s so amazing! Congratulations!”

It only took a mere few weeks to have every single boy whipped for the unborn child. Ashton was absolutely beside himself with the love he holds for this kidney bean sized human, all he ever wanted was being handed to him. A beautiful girlfriend that he loves dearly and a precious baby on the way, he was on cloud nine. It was soon discovered that all of the boys held their own fondness as well. Calum was absolutely enamored with the baby. He would ask almost daily to touch the small, growing bump and other times would lay his head across Mias lap and talk directly to the fetus. He had fondly nicknamed it “small kiwi” because he said that is the size of the fetus, despite Michael arguing the nickname should be “cool bean”. Luke managed to end the argument with saying that Kiwi was by far the superior nickname. 

When it was time for the boys to go on tour, Ashton was apprehensive about leaving Mia all alone. He wants to be there for the entire pregnancy, but with the album already being dropped, he couldn’t call off an entire tour, especially when her due date is long after tours end. Mia didn’t mind him leaving, she enjoyed seeing all the videos and pictures of him doing what hes passionate about and of him meeting the adoring fans. 

Even after they left, he would facetime her every time he had free time. They talked about everything from nursery ideas to names and they had successfully decided that the nursery would be pale purple. They had narrowed the names down to Charlotte May Irwin for a girl and Owen Fletcher Irwin for a boy. Even a million worlds apart, they had a love and connection that wouldn’t be broken for anything. 

Calum would send Mia pictures from tour, pictures of Ash, scenery, and even food. In exchange Mia would send him pictures of the bump and even showed him the new sonogram picture of Kiwi. Somewhere along the line, Calum had been named the godparent and it couldn’t have been a better choice. Luke and Michael were going to be amazing uncles, but Calum loved and adored the baby like no other. He loved the baby so much that it was as if Kiwi hung the stars and moon in his sky. 

Mia finds it shocking how smoothly the pregnancy is going, she hardly has any morning sickness and so far she hasn't had the typical back pain that other women whine about. That is until one night while laying down, her back starts cramping up and she can hardly move with the blinding pain. Her first instinct is to call Ashton and when he doesn’t answer, she dials Calum and he answers within the first few rings. She wanted to think that she was paranoid, but with the anxiety building in her chest, she can’t shake off the pain. 

“Hey, Mia” Calum greets happily across the line. 

“Wheres Ash?” She questions. 

“Beside me, his phone died. Why, are you alright?” Concern laces through his voice instantly. 

“I just really need to talk to Ash," She insists.  

“Whats wrong?” Ashton now questions. 

“My back is cramping badly" Mia holds her breath, close to tears "It's just scaring me,"

"Has it not gone away?" Ashton also now sounds concerned.

"No," Mia stammers. "I think I'm just paranoid, but I just, it's not normal...I don't think."

"I can be home in a couple hours" Ashton says quickly. "Just try to stay in bed and relax"

Mia does what Ashton advises and stays propped up in bed, attempting to keep busy instead of thinking of the absolute worst. She watches friends and then bobs burgers, the laughing easing her fears slightly. Despite ignoring all the precautionary warnings, Mia refuses to believe that miscarriage or still birth is a possible outcome in her pregnancy. As she sits up, pain shooting through her lower back, she remembers that there's still a chance of miscarriage even after thirteen weeks. She is only sixteen weeks along, not nearly enough time spent with kiwi. She want to spend years with her own flesh and blood, not a few weeks. But just as soon as the thought appears, it disappears with her bedroom door opening to reveal Ashton rushing in.

"Are you okay?" Ashton immediately questions, glancing over her figure hidden in the blankets.

"My back is still burning" Mia answers quietly. Ashton is quick to be by her side and places an arm around her shoulders. "It's never been like this"

"We'll g-" Ashtons words fall short when he pulls the cover away from her body.

Blood soaked through her shorts and seeps onto the sheets under her, making Ashtons chest tighten and breathing faulter. When Mia follows his gaze, it's as though her heart stops and all of her dreams shatter to the ground, falling in pieces around her. Ashton just breathes in deeply and closes his eyes, before moving to get her a change of clothes.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" Ashtons voice is steady and even. "Then we'll get you to the hospital"

Ashton is careful and gentle the entire way to the hospital. Calum, Michael, and Luke are in the back seat, expressions sullen after seeing the bloody mess left behind in her bed. Mia completely zones out, just clocks out of her entire existence and instead stares out the window. Calum wants to say something comforting seeing as Ashton is focused on driving and Luke looks too mortified to do anything.

Calum can't find any appropriate words though, he's still stricken with fear at the idea of loosing kiwi. Calum doesn't want to know how broken Ashton and Mia would be if something happened to Kiwi, they were both so thrilled and prepared to be parents. He’s never seen Ash so happy all the time, never heard him gush about something the way he talks about his family, and to have the taken away? He’d be destroyed. So, he just opts for silent prayers and the tense silence filling the car.

At the hospital, she lays in the bed silent and her mind stays somewhere far away in outer space. Ashton can see her eyes glassy, glazed over, and unresponsive to everything anyone says. He wishes he could say or do something more to show her that he’s here with her and that he’s in pain too, but all he can do his hold her small hand between his own. He answers most of the questions, but when the nurse starts to question about pain levels, he has no other option but to try and coax the words out of her. Mia just glances over to him, with her knees drawn to her chest, and blinks at him as he pleads. She’s supposed to rate this kind of pain out of ten? It’s beyond ten. 

“Eight” Mia says. She just simply grips onto his hand and prays for some kind of peaceful outcome, she knows better though. 

All of the people helping the couple are kind and supportive, they bring Mia warm blankets and extra pillows to try and soothe her. One of the nurses keeps bringing Ash hot chocolate with cute doodles scribbled onto the side of the paper cup and brings him warm blankets. She tells him that it’ll do his soul some good to be wrapped in warmth. The second nurse noticed their matching cross necklaces and dived into a comforting conversation about religion, love, and the beauty of praying. With soft words, she tells them that they can visit the hospital chapel or have a chaplain come pray with them. The thoughtfulness nearly makes Mia sob all over again. They keep the boys in the waiting room updated, offering warm hugs and telling them that the duo was doing just fine. 

The doctor returns to the room after three hours of tests, ultrasounds, and nervous waiting. The doctor already has that face. The sympathetic and pained looking expression written across every line and wrinkle on his face. Ashton just holds onto Mia’s hand and prepares for the absolute worst news he’ll face in his lifetime. She just watches him expectantly, waiting for the inevitable to be said. 

“I’m so sorry to inform you that your baby has passed away.” The doctor says softly. “When we did the ultrasound, the fetus had no heartbeat. Since the first ultrasound when you arrived, it seems as though all the tissue has passed.” 

“Why?” Ashton questions, his voice cracking with the weight of his tears. “I mean, is there a reason this happened?”

“The fetus had chromosomal abnormalities. These abnormalities can go undetected until it’s too late to prevent miscarriage.” He says. “Even if the pregnancy had continued, this could have caused genetic diseases and birth defects. They wouldn’t have survived long after birth.”

The doctor is kind and sits with them, explaining every last bit of the situation, and telling them softly that it wasn’t their fault. The two parents sit crying as he tells them that no matter what they did, it wouldn’t have changed the outcome. Ashton brushes the hair away from Mia’s sticky face as she watches the doctor through bleary eyes. 

“So, even if I gave birth...” Mia chokes out a cry. “They would’ve been suffering until they died?”

“I’m afraid so, Mia” The doctor nods sadly. 

“We wanted to keep the gender a secret until birth...But, uh,” She says. “Is there anyway you could tell us what we were having?”

“You both were having a stunning daughter,” He smiles lightly. “Again, my condolences.” 

When they’re left alone in the room, Ashton climbs into the bed with Mia and holds her tightly against his chest. Time seems to slow down as the two of them fall apart in each others arms. Every hope and dream seems to fall away, piece by piece, leaving them with nothing but pain and sorrow. Nothing could have ever prepared them for the unbearable heartbreak that they’re plagued with now. 

After awhile, both of the nurses return looking sympathetic and disappointed. They offer nothing but love and support, even when Mia breaks down crying again. Mia tries to tame her emotions, but the tears are still streaming and she isn’t sure if they’ll ever stop. Ashton eventually has the boys come back and before he comes back into the room, he discreetly requests for the chaplain to meet with them. Ashton knows that his girlfriend holds religion close to her heart, as does he and it’s the only thing that can offer any kind of ease for them. 

The chaplain is a soft spoken, middle aged man, who requests that everyone hold hands. Mia can feel the pain rippling through her chest, but as she connects her hands with Ash and Calum, she feels comforted and strong. As they all pray, the nurses included, everything is a little more peaceful and calm despite all of the tears and sniffling. It’s only after the chaplain leaves, that the nurse sets down a paper in front of them, Mia and Ashton look up at her confused.

“It’s a birth certificate” The nurse smiles softly. “A nonviable birth, but a birth certificate. What are you going to name her?”

Ashton and Mia just look at each other for a moment, then at Calum and the boys with teary eyes. They all held so much love for the couple and kiwi. The pair couldn’t be more thankful for this family. 

Charlotte May “Kiwi” Irwin. 

[himbimhohum]

The Carver - Part 2

From this point on, there is a general trigger warning for death, blood, and weapons. Please be advised that there will be few, if any, graphic descriptions, but if you are bothered by these topics at all then proceed with caution.

This should be read while listening to Burning Pile by Mother Mother and Body by Mother Mother.

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Carver meandered his way through the city streets until he came to a stop before a storefront. The windows had paper taped to the inside and a “Closed” sign hung from a peg on the door. Disregarding the sign, the lanky man got out his keys and unlocked the door, making his way inside. It was barely warmer in the store than out but that would soon be fixed. A counter stood next to the left wall with floating shelves making a wooden backdrop behind it. Small tables were stacked in the back corner next to another door which led to a storeroom and a set of stairs leading to the second floor. 

He felt the need to do something with his hands. Carver picked up the broom that had been leaning against the stacked tables. He began sweeping up some of the sawdust and debris left by the contractors during the build. As he swept, he let his mind wander a bit, mentally making a list of the orders he would have to place in the coming days to make the shop functional. A cash register, at least a thousand flowers, some watering cans; the list seemed to grow by the second.

The expense of opening this little flower shop didn’t bother Carver. He had plenty of money saved away from his main job. He was a contractor, of sorts. Carver took on the dirty work that few people were brave enough to do. Helped into the field by some of his contacts from the army, Carver had found some “friends” in the various mobs that ran the underbelly of the city. 

During the Great War, Carver had become one of the best shots in his regiment and had been noticed by his superiors. At the ripe old age of 19, he was sent on special missions to take out some of the enemy’s higher-ranking officers. Carver preferred knives to guns when it came to these missions. It was easier to ensure the enemy would never get back up if he watched the light fade from their eyes.

Now, back home in Port Stepper, there was no shortage of work for a hitman with a penchant for stealth. He had been home for only six months when he was offered his first hit. Two rival, small-time gangs, one with men from his former regiment, had crossed paths and had a tense situation in need of resolving. Carver had been asked by his former comrade to take out the leader of the rival group. 

Despite the unfamiliar environment, Carver had easily gotten past the thugs and guards into the boss’ office. The hit was swift, nearly silent, and instantly fatal. Lying in wait, Carver had been able to quickly come up behind the man, slit his throat, and stab him in the liver. He didn’t hear any sign of alarm on the other side of the door so he decided to invent a calling card for himself.

Carver, who was not a very creative person at the time, quickly decided to carve a “C” into the back of his victim’s hand and tuck a note between his fingers.

“The Carver sends his regards.”

In the moment, Carver was quite pleased with himself to have come up with a “clever” name to inspire fear. Every time he thought back to that night however, he cursed himself for not coming up with something different. Carver is a fairly unique name and any detective with more than two brain cells to rub together would probably make the connection sometime.

But two years had past and no nosy police officer had ever come knocking at his door. That was a positive, perhaps, of taking jobs from crime rings: no one was eager to call the cops.

Carver had begun to gain more confidence after his third job. His work was being noticed by more important figures and his calling card was feared across Port Stepper’s underbelly. Surprisingly, the men from his regiment who ordered the first hit agreed to “forget” his name and face and only referred to him as “The Carver” after that.

The anonymity he had been afforded made keeping his day-to-day life unobtrusive far easier than he had expected. He had been able to rent a mailbox in a post office across town and had bribed the postmaster into removing his name from the record. Anytime a crime family had a hit they wanted, they’d have to find out which box he owned and send him half their offer upfront with the name of their target.

His private life did not stay private for long, however. About a year and a half after his first hit, Carver was singled out by Elgin Canmore, the father of the Canmore family. The Canmore family controlled five major ports in the harbor and were one of the four major crime families in the city. Canmore had sent Carver an official invitation to the family’s dinner table and had assured his cooperation with fifty thousand dollars.

Since then Carver’s work had mainly been directed by the Canmore Family who fully recognized that they did not own his allegiance in any way. He had been trusted with some knowledge of the family’s operations, under the agreement that Carver really didn’t care to tell anyone about the plans. It wasn’t hard for him to hold true to the promise; he rarely spoke to anyone and indeed rarely spoke at all.

Carver didn’t particularly care about who the targets were specifically. Some of the names he recognized, like a minor leader of the Galley Boys who controlled one of the city’s many commercial ports. Carver was able to fill his savings quickly with his unique skills since each hit cost about four thousand dollars. To keep his small fortune hidden, he had taken to opening accounts in several banks around the city.

Shaking himself back into the present, the fiery-haired young man brushed a drop of sweat off his brow. Carver shucked off his coat, laying it on the countertop. Rolling his sleeves up to reveal lean, muscular arms, he swept the small pile of dust into the corner and made a mental note to buy a trash bin. 

At some point soon, he would need to find out what was so important last night that he wasn’t allowed in the backroom of St. James’ Tavern. The Canmores controlled that territory and often held emergency meetings there. Carver was merely curious as to the goings-on, barely more interested than he would be in finding a dollar on the ground.

Carver finished cleaning up the store before setting out the tables, arranging them carefully. He imagined the flowers he would soon have spilling from baskets, bouquets, and pots. He allowed himself to smile. His guilty pleasure had always been gardening, especially flowers. Helping something beautiful grow had helped the confusion he felt growing up.

At some point during his years in middle school, Carver had realized that he always felt fuzzy around the edges as though he was only mostly what people thought he was. Of course, he was a man but why did he feel so detached from it at the same time? During the war, he had found comfort in the fuzzy feeling. His secret missions had garnered notoriety among the ranks and more than once he heard his comrades praise the hitman.

“Didn’t you hear? There’s someone taking out officers on the other side! They’re certainly making our job easier.”

“I wish I could shake their hand. They must be incredibly brave to go on those missions. Or at least they’re too reckless to feel fear.”

Carver had heard himself referred to in a detached way, as an entity rather than a person and it was surprisingly pleasant. He didn’t know what to call it exactly, but just knowing that he could feel comfortable in his own skin at all was nothing short of a miracle in his eyes. After becoming The Carver and being discovered by Elgin Canmore, Carver had decided to have a little chat with the father.

He had approached the man in his office. Elgin’s short muscular frame was stationed behind an ornate desk. Thick, pale fingers covered with heavy rings drummed a steady cadence into his desk. He only looked up from his work when Carver cleared his throat.

“You’re aware that The Carver’s identity is a mystery to nearly everyone besides you, correct Mr. Canmore?” Carver began. “I’d like it to stay that way.”

“Well of course dear boy, I would never think of sharing our little secret with my enemies,” Eglin replied cooly. “Why are you bringing this up though? No one knows your name.”

“You see, sir, if people were to find out that The Carver was a man with special skills that are usually found in the military, they might be able to track me down. I assume that is how you found me after all.” Carver was treading carefully here, speaking without an accusing tone. He didn’t need Elgin thinking he was angry at being found out.

“But suppose someone thought I was a woman. They might think she came from a prominent family, one that had plenty of people to train her. Personally, my sense of honor wouldn’t allow for a girl to be pinned with my sins. It just wouldn’t be right.”

“Get to the point, son. I respect your skills but your rambling is trying my patience.”

“I want you to tell your men that they can only refer to The Carver as “they” from now on. The Carver is an entity, a mysterious being who comes in and kills without a trace. Threaten them if you have to. Say I’ll come after whoever says the wrong thing. Just make it known that The Carver is not a man, not a woman, but a threat to their lives.”

Carver delivered his demand without breaking eye contact with the kingpin. If this were to work, he couldn’t show a flicker of weakness or doubt. His resolve had to be absolute.

Elgin took his time deliberating this. He didn’t like Carver threatening his men, but he respected the anonymity required to be a successful hitman. After several long, silent minutes, he agreed. There was no need to upset his most prized asset after all.

Carver didn’t dare take a breath of relief until he had completed the twenty-minute trek from the Canmore’s home to his apartment. He was shaking slightly; nervousness, excitement, and relief all tangled in a ball of emotions he was too confused to sort out.

He pulled himself out of his reverie and decided that if he was going to be zoning out and daydreaming about the past all day, he’d much rather do it at home. At least there he would be able to lose himself in a warm mug of coffee and listen to his favorite jazz radio station. Carver pulled his sleeves back down, put on his coat, and casually walked two blocks west and one block south. His building was an unassuming brownstone that was two stories tall and nearly as old as the Port Stepper itself. An acceptable place to call home while he waited to move in above his flower shop.

[candy-corps]

Let’s Talk.

Jaal belongs to @mygardenofmuses

It was colder outside than expected, but Damien really did need some air after running into his dad's new boyfriend. One of many, by the sound. It was something hard to swallow, but he loved his dad, and his normal was crazy but it was normal. The boy shut the door behind him; snowflakes still melting on his jacket and scarf; some on his hair. He kicked his boots off as he heard someone approaching. After that conversation with Bruce, Jaal felt he had work harder to fit in, or he never would have a place in Bruce's heart like Zagam still did. He was a little more aware now that his honesty (even when he believed it was necessary) wasn't going to be the best way to help them out. But he still could talk and apologize, right? "Damien? Is that you?" He asked, walking to the hall. Oh, could he have five minutes before that guy came up and continued to discredit his family members? Damien didn't reply; just un-did his scarf. Great. More of the same. Jaal sighed and bit his bottom lip. It was already tough with Bruce, but it seemed he'd have to have this conversation twice. What a pain in the holes. Better to get it done already. "Hey, Damien... Talked to your father. He made me understand... that Zagam guy is pretty important to both of you." Present, not past tense. Something, Damien noted. He got rid of his jacket, too, hung it up and turned to Jaal. They've been here, earlier. He at least looked at Jaal now; praying he won't fuck this up again. "Look... I was... perhaps insensitive when I said he's not here. I'm sorry for hurting your feelings when I said that. He's still here, in your heart... and Bruce's..." Jaal rubbed his hands, nervous. Was he apologizing correctly? He'd have to watch over his words from now on, and that made him anxious. Baegels - letzten Sonntag um 18:06 Uhr Damien exhaled. "Thanks." He accepted the apology. "He's the reason why I stay with dad, really. He invited me, back in the days" he had Jaal know. "Gave me my room. I've never had my own room." Damien stepped up, trying to get Jaal to follow him to the living room. He'd try to get along with him. "What?" Jaal blinked in shock and worry. Damien seemed so young. A child shouldn't be alone, ever. "How is that possible? Were you alone before???" "Grew up with my mom. She let me figure out by myself where to sleep. Thought it would strengthen my character, dunno" Damien huffed. " - And he gave me love advice. Which is how I have a girlfriend now." Damien sat on the armchair and turned the tv on, just to have some background noise. Jaal let out a sigh of relief. That was good. Every kid should have at least one father and one mother. Though it was pretty strange they lived separately. Maybe he should ask Bruce later about it. His eyes widened a bit with the last revelation. Apparently Zagam didn't only do bad things. He did at least two good things. Mainly for Damien. He nodded quietly. "Looks like he does some good things." he mumbled, unsure if he should ask more about the topic. Better to check. "Can I ask you more?" Present tense, again. "He does some good things" Damien agreed. "What do you wanna ask?" He rested his head on his palm, but didn't look bored. Jaal had his full attention. " I have questions about Zagam. And I'm a little curious about that girlfriend of yours. What would you like to talk about first?" Jaal decided to give him the choice to pick the subject he'd rather talk about first. At least It seemed Damien wasn't upset anymore. That was good. "Ask about Zagam" Damien said. He'd like to know they were good on that topic. Jaal rubbed his hands. He had already several questions in mind. Better to learn as much as possible!! "OK, first question: what was the best thing Zagam ever has done for your father?" "Uhhh ... I dunno. But he looked ... peaceful when he was around" Damien remembered. Well, that didn't answer all that much. "What activities do they do when they're together? As in, hobbies. I think that's the word..." "Hobbies, yeah. They were ... eating with others. Watched tv, visited friends." He wondered why Jaal was asking that. Good. These things were stuff he could do with Bruce. Maybe he'd like doing those things again. "OK, so... did you all have any family traditions?" Family traditions, family traditions ... Damien smiled as he thought of one. "When we didn't have to leave the house a day, we'd just stay in our payamas. And ... it was my part to get dad to eat when Zagam wasn't around. You gotta give him food or he's just not gonna eat" Damien let Jaal know, serious now. "That is good to know. I'm always encouraging him to eat. Thanks for telling me." Jaal joined his hands over his lap, as he sat on the couch. "Is Zagam the kind of person who gives expensive gifts, or small ones?" "Expensive gifts" Damien answered, straight away. "Like ... his flat? Everything was ... designer stuff. Clothes, too. Dad would wear that. His stuff. It looked all off" he found, amused. "He was ... rich or something. Because he was so old, I don't know." Well, that put him in a compromise. He was technically a refugee in this planet, a man without papers, no job, and of course no money, at all. How could he ever become a match to Zagam? Jaal let out a worried noise through his holes. Maybe... maybe he'd have to steal. Not that he hadn't done it before, but he felt pretty bad about it. Still - if he ever wished to become someone worthy of Bruce's affections, this would have to be the plan... for as long as he stayed here. Which meant... He needed to find a job. As soon as possible. He wouldn't be able to live as a criminal for long. Not to mention, what would his mom say? And the Moshae?? Realizing he had been quiet for a while, Jaal shook his head. "What is Zagam's best quality, in your opinion?" Oh, he was just about to ask if all was cool. So. Zagam's best best quality. "I guess he ... stays calm, really easily? Dad is more the hectic type, but Zagam, he's just ... super controlled, somehow." "I used to be like that... until my wife shook up my world. Sometimes I wish she hadn't. I was more able to control the things I said and did back then." Jaal sighed and rubbed his arm. Being calm. Collected. It wasn't that hard, really. He only had to do a little effort... Though back then he didn't care about most people either. He could shoot a Kett soldier straight on the face and don't feel a thing. Now... he'd probably feel bad about it. "What is the thing you like the most about him?" he inquired shortly after. "He gave us a home" Damien answered, straight and simple. Hard to argue with that. Again, he didn't have money enough. Not in this world at least - in his planet he was one of the richest men alive, serving directly under the Moshae. That gave him an idea. He didn't have money now, but... "Have Zagam and your father ever gone on trips together? As in... taking your loved one to visit a place he'd like to go?" Damien shifted in his seat. "They were in a cottage, once. Oh and he took him to Hell. Like. Literally. He liked it" Damien assured right away. "Zagam worked there and there was an opportunity. So he showed dad around." "What is Hell?" Jaal never had heard of such a thing. "Is it another planet?" Damien wiggled his hand. Close enough. "Dimension ... Realm ... " Yeah, something like that. "It's where bad people go, after they die, to get punished. Dad thinks Zagam is stuck in there, fighting. And because his brother is nowhere to be found either, we have no way to access it. Except through, well, doing something bad and dying, but there's no guarantee it works." Jaal gasped in worry. "I don't want you two to die...!" Whoa, that was some raw concern slipping through, right there. He looked away, a little flustered. "It sounds dangerous... and stuff..." He shook his head, sighing. "It's no wonder Bruce thinks of him all the time. I am nothing in comparison to him. He's got everything and I'm... nothing at all." He looked down, feeling a little sad. "You're around" Damien said, disagreeing with Jaal on that matter. "Best partner doesn't help when he's not around. Just ... Just be around" Damien advised. It was enough. More than, even. Jaal blinked in surprise and gazed at Damien with such intensity that it seemed he was looking into his soul. So Damien actually could acknowledge that Zagam was not physically present. That was some excellent progress toward moving on. Sure, he would still live in their minds, but... this was some progress, definitely. And then, that piece of advice. Being around. Sounded easy enough, he had nowhere else to go except his homeworld. But there was no rush. Still... "Being around... Will that be enough for him? I mean... I don't have money, or riches, or even a house of my own. Not in this planet. Just my spaceship and my belongings. In my planet, however, I could give you anything, whatever your hearts desired for. But I'm not sure how willing you guys would be to travel to another galaxy..." "Got a girlfriend here, sorry" Damien laughed and leaned back in his seat. "And we're not that spoiled, man. Be around for more than a few days at a time. Don't leave him waiting, and you're good. We're good." Really. "Right, I was forgetting about her. And I'm not planning to go anywhere, so... you'll have to get used to see my purpleness over here quite often." Jaal chuckled a bit, hopeful. He had got Damien to laugh. This was good, so very good. "Not planning to keep him waiting, either. I'd feel weird leaving the place without him to begin with. Everything is new for me in this planet." He rubbed his chin in thought. "Mind if I ask a bit about your lady companion?" "Girlfriend"Damien corrected. "Jess. What about her?" So they reached part two of the questioning. "You look so very young. How early do courtship rituals begin in this planet?" Maybe Damien could provide him with some information about how dating worked in this planet. He wanted to contrast this story with everything he knew about Bruce and Zagam, and his very own story with Ryder. Court-what? "I'm no kid. I can have a girlfriend" Damien found. Getting tired, he rubbed his eye with the back of his hand. "Had since I was twelve." "That's pretty impressive." Jaal nodded. It was indeed amazing. "Then you are older than you look. How old are you, again?" " ... Thirteen." He knew it sounded less impressive now. "I honestly believed you were 15 at least. You are very mature for your age." It was a compliment, and Jaal hoped he took it as such. "So, what things do you like to do together?" "Talk, do homework ... explore places" he answered. "What is homework?" Jaal cocked his head in confusion. He didn't know what homework was? "Assignments that you get from school. Exercises for math, or reading or whatever." When Jaal didn't know what homework was, he gotta be the luckiest person in the whole universe. "Ahhh. School must be a learning nest, then. Did you two meet in it?" Jaal asked, leaning back on his seat, getting comfortable. Nest? Damien had to laugh at the mental image. "Yeah. Yeah, we did." "Were there many young ones? How many children fit in every nest, more or less?" This was branching into a new topic, but Jaal wasn't exactly against it. He adjusted his visor. Good thing it was working and keeping track of everything. He was killing him! Damien burst out laughing. He found it just fair to keep Jaal thinking that school was just one giant nest, but he wasn't sure how long he could keep the lie up. "What's so funny?" Jaal was confused. Was he missing out something...? Or did he say something funny and he wasn't aware of it? Classes. Classes. "Um, roughly ... 30, 35 ... " Damien answered, still shaking with laughter. Damn, he used to be way better at lying. "They teach your children ... in nests?" He knew he was the one being questioned right now, but he ... just had to. "That is one really big nest." Jaal's eyes went wide as he tried to imagine the size. A nest that big probably would have to be cared for many adults. He smiled at his inquiry, glad to share bits of his past. "Yes. Our nests aren't that big though, usually five children per nest. Feel free to ask more, if you want." There was one question. "Do you want to see a school?" It was dark outside. Unlikely they'd get caught when they'd sneak in. "Sure. Can we take Bruce with us? I'd love to share that experience with him." Jaal was hopeful. A investigation trip sounded like fun, and more if he got to do ot with his dearest bats. "How long've you been on Earth?" Damien asked instead. Now that he found out Jaal thought schools were nests ... it got him thinking. "I'd say, less than an Earth week." Jaal rubbed his chin in thought. "Probably four days, or five. Why do you ask?" "How often have you been out?" Damien asked instead to answer Jaal's question. He could figure what was going on. "Not much just yet. I'm still getting used to the gravity of this planet." Jaal answered with ease, wondering if Damien wanted to study him, too. "You can stand alright" he found. Now this was getting interesting. "He doesn't want you to go" Damien figured. That's why Jaal wasn't outside just yet. "Yeah, I've been practicing and walking and..." Jaal fell silent in surprise. "Bruce... Doesn't want me to go outside?" He asked, cocking his head. Given Jaal didn't know another "he", it was Bruce, right? "Cut him some slack" Damien requested. "He doesn't like to be alone. And he ... might not trust you to make it back. But ... we can sneak out, leave him a note, make it home before dinner ... " They could! "I don't like being alone for long too, to be honest. And why sneak out? We don't need to hide, do we? Or is it forbidden to visit a school?" Jaal couldn't understand why it would be, unless it was a way to ensure the safety of the small humans. "I gave you a chance ... " Damien shrugged, more talking to himself. It was one of many of his dads quirks. Over-protectiveness. "I'm not sure I am understanding everything you say. Sorry about that. Can we bring Bruce with us?" Jaal decided to check one second time. He hadn't answered the first time he asked, so perhaps he had missed it? "He's not gonna let you go out" Damien assured. "And he'll feel bad when I bring you there. Don't worry about it." He waved it off. "Why not?" His expression shifted, becoming worried. "If he's going to feel bad about it, I can't go. We've just overcome our first issues together... Leaving him alone would be bad. Especially now." "Okay." They didn't have to go. They could stay here, play Monopoly all night. "Did you at least get to see the rest of the tower? There's a room with a pool in it." "No, I haven't. I've spent most of my time in Bruce's bed..." fucking him senseless and getting fucked. Okay that was a bit of too much information. Damien probably could imagine it anyway. His face gave enough clues. Did he build a fucking wall? Damien looked at Jaal, but he didn't exactly seem unhappy, looking back. Huh. He decided not to ask. "I can show you around, when you want to" the boy offered. "That would be great for my investigation, thank you." Jaal smiled. "As soon as I get Bruce to join us, I want to see everything. Especially that pool. It's been a while since I could go for a swim." Why couldn't he get a wiiink. "He doesn't like pools all that much. Oh well" Damien yawned. "You done?" "He doesn't? Why is that? That shall be my last question for today." Jaal chuckled lightly. Of course not. Damien finished the yawn. "Can't swim. Can't see when his ears and wings get wet. The ... " He made a circling motion with his finger, " - echolocation." "Echocolocation..." Jaal saved that word in his mind. He'd have to ask Bruce later about it. Giving him a nod, Jaal offered him a hand. "I've been told this is way humans express gratitude. Thank you so much, Damien. I learned a lot with you." "Don't sweat it. Ball your fist like that, though" he instructed, and held out his own to show Jaal how it's done. "Like this?" Jaal imitated Damien's movement. Was this another human greeting? This was something unexpected, but... Real fun! "Good." He bumped his fist against Jaal's. "That's how you show grattitude. The cool way" he explained. "Cool... Now both of us are cool, then." Jaal's smile grew wider. Somehow, he had a feeling that they had grown a little closer.

[spacs]

give me shelter

Archive of Our Own Link

Chapter Two: always around me Rating: Teen+ Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandoms: Final Fantasy XV Relationships: Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia Language: English

Summary: Today wasn’t normal. Today had been awkward and weird and full of a tension that Noct didn’t know how to place.

Notes: a continuation of this.

It shouldn’t have surprised him that Ignis wasn’t next to him when he woke up.

Noctis picked his head up blearily and looked around the room. Prompto was on the second bed looking through the pictures on his camera and Gladio was packing a bag. Noctis could hear faint rustling sounds coming from the kitchen. Everything was normal.

He didn’t know why he’d been expecting something else.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” Prompto grinned when he looked up and saw Noct awake. He just groaned in reply, flopping back onto the bed – just like normal. Maybe last night had been a dream. The atmosphere in the room wouldn’t be this casual if it had happened. “We’re gonna head out soon.”

Noctis waved at him from his position, running a hand over his face. “Still asleep,” he mumbled.

“No you don’t.” Hands grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back into a seated position. Gladio patted his arm roughly to get him to wake up. “Don’t want to miss the boat, highness.”

He did his best to glare at his shield through narrowed eyes, still heavy with sleep. He slid off the bed as Gladio went back to zip up the bag he’d finished packing, stumbling towards the kitchen. Noctis leaned against the doorframe, watching Ignis crack an egg into a pan. “Hey,” he said.

“Morning,” Ignis replied. His voice was too normal, like he was trying to sound like his normal self. But just that word was lined with discomfort and the pitch heavy with overcompensation.

Noct frowned. “Last night—”

“How would you like your eggs this morning, highness?” Ignis asked stiffly, not meeting his eyes.

He blinked. His eggs? “Eggs—what?”

The advisor adjusted his glasses, pushing the previously cracked egg around evenly over the stove. “Your eggs. How would you like them cooked?”

“I don’t care. However you want,” he tried. “Listen, Ignis—”

“Over easy it is,” Ignis interrupted. He waved toward the door. “Why don’t you help Gladio with the bags while I finish breakfast?” He turned his back on Noctis, moving to gather the correct spices and two more eggs – a clear dismissal.

Dazed, Noctis turned back to the room. Prompto was still wrapped up in his camera and Gladio had stacked the rest of their things by the door. He wandered to the bathroom, closing the door gently behind him. He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess and the skin beneath his eyes was dark. His exhaustion was clearly visible and given Ignis’ reaction to his mere presence, he no longer wondered why.

Everything was normal because Ignis was desperately clinging to it. He didn’t want to acknowledge what had happened the previous night and Noctis was trying to pretend like that didn’t hurt. Whatever had come over them was obviously a mistake. But it had felt… good. That seemed to understate it, but Noct didn’t have a way with words the way Ignis did. He’d kept his eyes open to see Ignis after the kiss, but Ignis pulled away. Wouldn’t it be beneficial to discuss what transpired rather than wallow in this permeable awkwardness? Prompto and Gladio were bound to notice that they were acting strangely.

Noct blew a frustrated breath out through puffed cheeks. “Dammit,” he muttered, pushing a hand through his hair. With the winds from the boat later fixing it wouldn’t do a lot of good, but maybe it would help him find a footing in this new normal. Thankfully Gladio hadn’t packed the bathroom yet, and Noctis used some of Prompto’s hair product – the extra strength bottle.

He messed with his unruly bangs for a few minutes before taking a deep breath and exiting the bathroom. The bags were gone and so were Prompto and Gladio. Noctis ducked past the kitchen, glancing in briefly to see Ignis looking pointedly away from the door. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from pushing the subject. If Ignis hated kissing him so much then he’d accept it. By the time they got on the boat, things would be back to the real normal. They just had to jump the morning-after hurdle.

The trip to Altissia was tense. Ignis sat next to him on the boat, which Noct figured was an attempt to move back to a semblance of normality. He was hyper aware of Ignis’ body next to his, the way their legs would brush when the boat rocked with the waves. Occasionally Ignis would stand, pacing around the boat and Noctis found himself watching the way Ignis’ eyes would study the water and the horizon. The sun cast a pleasant light over his features, and in the heat Ignis rolled his sleeves up past his elbows, loosening the buttons at the top of his shirt. He tracked the movements of Ignis’ lips as he spoke, averting his gaze when Ignis turned to him.

Still, he caught himself staring at Ignis when the other man wasn’t looking, and felt his heart skip a beat when their eyes met for the first time since the previous night. The look between them lingered, Ignis’ lips pursed as he adjusted his glasses. Was he nervous? Noctis didn’t think he had ever seen Ignis nervous. He couldn’t decipher what Ignis thought about what happened, but he’d never had the same talent for reading people that Ignis had. The way Ignis was looking at him had a different tone than the way he had blatantly ducked the topic this morning. Longing? Disappointment?

The redness on Noct’s face was just from the sun – or that’s what he would say if someone mentioned it – and he tried to stop looking at Ignis.

For the first time in twelve years, he was going to be in the same city as Luna. That thought made his palms sweat and he ran a hand through his hair, though the wind blew it out of place once more. He’d thought about how it would feel to see Luna again for a long time. Their contact through the years had made the separation easier and maintained their friendship. He knew he was supposed to be in love with her – that was the reason for the teasing from his friends and the kissy faces Prompto would make at the mention of her name or title. Now he wasn’t so sure it was the romantic kind of love that was expected from him.

“I can’t believe you’re not sleeping,” Prompto teased as he motioned for Noct to stand for a picture.

Noctis made a face at him that Prompto made sure to photograph before he could wipe the expression from his face. “I slept fine last night,” he retorted. It was only half a lie and he made sure not to look at Ignis.

“Never stopped you before,” Prompto grinned, lifting his camera. Noct crossed his arms, smiling awkwardly so the blond could take the photograph. “Could it have maybe, possibly, totally something to do with seeing Lady Lunafreya again?”

“Shut up,” he replied, moving out of position.

“I’m just saying,” Prompto continued, holding his hands up innocently. “Even Iggy is managing some shut-eye.”

Noct’s brow lifted and he finally looked over at Ignis. His hands were crossed over his chest, his head lolled slightly to the side as it leaned against his shoulder. His eyes were closed and he had a soft frown on his lips. But when Prompto lifted his camera to get a shot of him Ignis lowly said, “Don’t.”

It looked like Prompto almost wanted to jump off the boat with how startled he was, and Noct and Gladio shook with laughter. Ignis’ eyes slowly opened and his arms uncrossed, turning to the other three, a tentative smile replacing the frown. “I thought you were asleep,” Prompto exclaimed, a hand clutching his camera protectively.

“Just resting my eyes,” Ignis told him, stretching his arms in front of him.

Gladio slapped a hand on Prompto’s shoulder, shaking him gently. The blond glared up at him but Gladio just kept grinning. “You okay, Iggy?” he asked, still chuckling. Noct looked away from Ignis and scratched the back of his head self-consciously.

Ignis nodded, answering, “Just fine. The sun is bright and out here there is no shade.” He kept his voice even and he sounded normal again. The lie came naturally from him and, even though he knew the truth, Noct almost believed him.

A quiet finally fell over the friends and Noct was left trying to fend off his thoughts about how he truly felt about Luna versus what he thought he was supposed to feel. Instead he tried to focus on the waves that the boat made as it moved through the water, watching birds diving under the surface for fish or just flying peacefully next to them. The click of Prompto’s camera sounded every so often as he took nature shots and occasionally Gladio. The shield was the only one who was letting Prompto pull him up for pictures anymore.

It was nearing sundown when they finally docked in Altissia. The city was beautiful, the night life already starting to buzz. Light hung in the streets as soft music drifted between the buildings. Gondolas were pushed gently through the water, creating relaxing rippling sounds to pair with the music. The city was more magical than described and Noct felt more awake than he’d ever been at this time of day.

Once they’d officially entered the city, thanks to Ignis’ quick thinking, Noctis eagerly pushed forward. Prompto kept pace with him easily while Gladio and Ignis trailed behind. He went to the first gondola available, asking to be taken on a cruise surrounding the city. Prompto excitedly climbed in, ready for the photo op. Gladio and Ignis followed, mentioning that they needed to consider lodgings for their stay.

“Cid mentioned Maagho’s,” Prompto replied, lifting his camera to snap a photo of the street behind them.

“A restaurant, not a hotel,” Ignis answered. “We have the gil for two rooms for a few nights.”

Noctis lifted his eyebrows at the mention of two rooms but didn’t say anything. “I can take you to Maagho’s,” the gondolier interjected. “Great place.”

“Not tonight,” Noctis responded quickly. At the questioning look from his friends he continued, “Ignis is right. We need to figure out where we’re going to stay.” He glanced at Ignis, still feeling awkward, and a nod was returned. It was hard to tell if Ignis was blatantly ignoring the tension or if he was blissfully unaware. Ignis was rarely unaware of anything, so Noctis figured it was the first.

The hotel they were directed to was very nice. Prompto made a case for the luxury suite that Ignis didn’t even bat an eye at but Prompto was placated by the purchase of two rooms. Ignis took a key and handed the other to Gladio.

“Finally a bed all to myself,” Prompto cheered, stretching widely to demonstrate.

“With the way you move around, I’m betting you’ll find a way to kick me anyway,” Gladio quipped, throwing an arm around the blond and digging his knuckles into his hair leading the other up the stairs first.

Noctis didn’t miss the way Ignis hesitated or the way he opened his mouth to say something before closing it without a word. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from scowling as he trailed after first two. He watched the casual closeness between Prompto and Gladio as they joked with each other, Prompto finally getting out from underneath the arm around his shoulders. He shoved Gladio lightly, sneaking the key away from his hand and starting a race up the steps to their room. A brief sigh escaped Ignis behind Noct at the behavior but he didn’t scold.

“Which room are we?” he asked when they reached the next floor. Prompto and Gladio sped around the corner with little regard to their companions.

Ignis handed him the key and Noct swore he deliberately kept their hands from brushing together. “Should be next to those two,” he answered. He waited for Noctis to continue down the hallway. “They’ll be sending up the bags momentarily.”

Noctis nodded, leading the way past the other rooms. He glanced down at the key but it was hardly necessary when they rounded the corner and saw Gladio and Prompto wrestling for ownership of the key outside their door. It brought a grin to his face and he shook his head, matching his key with the room left of theirs.

“Noct make him let go,” Prompto whined, bent in half. Gladio had a hand wedged into Prompto’s stomach where the blond must be cradling the key protectively.

“I’m not getting involved,” Noct chuckled, unlocking his door. He went inside and glanced back to see Ignis hesitating again. He was watching their friends like he wanted to say something or intervene. “Ignis?”

The sound of his name brought him back and he looked back at Noctis. “Right,” he said, but it sounded more like a resignation. He followed into the room, the door swinging closed behind them.

The room was nice. It was a deep red, the bedding a cream color with waving lines decorating the fabric. There was a gold pattern tracing the walls and Noct let his eyes follow the pattern in circles, admiring the way the pattern overlapped and crisscrossed. There was a small kitchen, if that’s what it could be called without an oven – it was more of a would-be kitchen with just a two seat bar, microwave, sink, and mini fridge. A coffee pot was on the bar, something Ignis would be grateful for, and the countertops were off-white marble. There was a balcony overlooking the harbor, the light music from the city below muffled by the closed doors. Two beds were in the center of the room and the door to the bathroom was on the opposite wall that they shared with Prompto and Gladio.

Noct moved into the room, falling onto the bed to stare at the ceiling. He heard a triumphant whoop from Prompto in the hallway and a scuffle as the room was opened as the two barreled inside. He snorted, sliding further onto the bed. It was comfortable and the sheets were soft and clean. The pillows beneath his head were full of feathers and the bedding was smooth and encased him in warmth.

“Gonna sleep good tonight,” he said, bringing his feet up onto the bed.

“You should remove your shoes,” Ignis chided, walking into the would-be kitchen to search the two overhead cabinets. He sighed in relief when he pulled out a container of coffee.

Noct rolled his eyes and kicked off his shoes then sat up on his elbows, watching Ignis dump more than enough grounds into the coffee maker. “Little late for coffee isn’t it?” he asked, which didn’t sound anything like him.

Ignis noticed and his eyebrows shot up. He glanced briefly toward the bed but didn’t meet Noct’s eyes. “Yes well,” he started without finishing his statement. He poured water into the pot and switched the machine on.

The quiet whir of the beginnings of the coffee filled the silence between them. It was an awkwardness that Noctis hadn’t prepared to deal with so early in the night so he threw himself off the bed, moving to the door to the balcony. He went outside, leaning against the railing. The smell of the seawater calmed him and he considered going down to the docks to fish for a while before turning in – the fish here had to be different than those back home. Ignis would probably want to go with him or at least send Gladio or Prompto which would give him the opportunity to switch rooms. He frowned, huffing at himself and pushing his fingers through his hair.

They should talk about what happened, shouldn’t they? Ignis seemed keen on avoiding it and if Noct left to fish he was bound to return to find that his roommate had changed. Come tomorrow night, Ignis would think of a good excuse to not room with Noctis which made tonight his only chance to approach the subject. These sort of talks weren’t his strong suit, they were Ignis’. Which is why he was so concerned about their lack of discussion. Ignis was choosing this awkward shift between them over talking it out and that wasn’t something he did.

Glancing back inside, Noctis saw Ignis pinching the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t moved from the coffee machine. He looked tired. Guilt sat heavy in Noct’s stomach as he measured the uncharacteristic slouch in Ignis’ posture and the way he still hadn’t rolled down his sleeves even though the air had cooled when the sun went down. He didn’t look kempt the way Ignis always looked kempt – his hair was flatter than usual, done in a way that must have taken less time to manage than his usual style.

The advisor snapped up when there was a knock on the door. Noctis turned back around to avoid getting caught staring, listening to Ignis greet the porter.

“Hey Noct!”

Noctis almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of Prompto’s voice, eliciting a laugh from his friend. “Did I scare you, buddy?” he grinned triumphantly.

“Prompto,” Noct hissed, narrowing his eyes.

The blond shrugged. “Payback.”

“I wasn’t the one that scared you on the boat,” Noct grouched.

Prompto was practically hanging off the balcony next to Noct’s. “I won, by the way,” he offered without being asked. “But Gladio still took the shower first.”

“Go take it back,” Noct answered, moving to the side of the balcony closer to the blond.

That made Prompto laugh again. “Yeah that would be something to tell, right? Busting in on a naked Gladio.” Maybe it was the warm light from the night-life in Altissia but it looked like Prompto’s cheeks went pink. “Anyway, what’re you and Ignis up to?”

Noctis shrugged, his eyes darting back towards Ignis. He had brought the bags inside, setting his on the bed by the kitchen and Noct’s next to the one by the balcony, but he had gone back to standing next to the coffee pot, though this time had a mug in his hands and his back to Noctis. “He’s making coffee.”

“A little late for coffee,” Prompto echoed Noctis’ words from earlier.

“That’s what I said.”

A wicked grin graced Prompto’s lips. “Maybe he’s going out after you pass out. New town, new people.”

He couldn’t stop his scowl this time. He shook his head, diverting his gaze back out over the water. “I doubt it. He probably just wants to work or something.”

“Work on what?”

“I don’t know. It’s Ignis. He always finds stuff to work on.”

Prompto shrugged then changed the subject. “Want to go fishing?”

“Maybe later.” He scratched his cheek and faked a yawn – the first yawn he had ever had to fake.

“Aw,” Prompto whined, laying down on the bannister. “Alright,” he dragged out the word, making pleading eyes at Noctis.

“We can go to the docks tomorrow after Maagho’s,” he offered causing Prompto to jump up and cheer. “I’m going to go take a shower before Ignis. See you in the morning?”

“Night!” he nodded, beaming.

As Noct went back in, he saw Prompto taking out his camera to stretch out over the railing again to take a shot of something in the distance. “Don’t fall off,” he called, only getting a wave of acknowledgement in return.

He closed the door deliberately behind him, making sure it would click in a way so that Ignis would know he was back inside for the night. It was harder to think with Prompto outside with him. He enjoyed the blond’s company, but tonight was not a night for it. He had to think before he talked to Ignis. He had to have a plan. If this weren’t something that he was sure Ignis was going to loathe, he figured his advisor would be proud that he was trying to plan this out. Trouble was, planning was Ignis’ job.

“I’m going to shower,” he muttered, staring at Ignis’ back. He’d stiffened the moment Noct came back inside.

Ignis turned to pour himself another cup of coffee. He nodded and replied, “Take care not to fall asleep this time.” But the joke felt forced and Noct grimaced when neither one of them smiled at each other in the good-natured way they usually did.

The words that only happened once died on his tongue and he resigned himself to the bathroom. The towels were perfectly white and fluffy – just the way he liked. The water pressure was adequate, but better than the motels they’d stayed in previously and much better than the hotel in Lestallum. Nothing could compare to Noct’s pristine shower in the Crown City, however, but he always found himself comparing.

He stripped himself of his clothes, tossing them on the floor. Stopping, he looked down at the discard garments and considered before stooping to pick them back up. He didn’t fold them, but he did place them neatly in a pile on the countertop instead. Ignis normally snuck in briefly to take his dirty clothes for a wash and replaced them with clean ones for when he got out of the shower. Normally. Nothing about today’s interactions with Ignis had been normal and he frowned at the thought. Maybe he should have gotten his own change of clothes before taking a shower this time.

Blowing out a breath, Noctis started the water to warm then grabbed a towel to hook around his waist.

When he opened the bathroom door he instantly regretted it.

Ignis was by his bed, rifling through his bag for a new set of clothes. When the door had opened, he’d looked up and was met with the sight of a nearly naked prince. Noctis felt like he had been lit on fire. It wasn’t like Ignis hadn’t seen him without a shirt on before – Ignis was one of the few that was allowed to see his back uncovered. But today wasn’t normal. Today had been awkward and weird and full of a tension that Noct didn’t know how to place. This was just the icing on the cake.

“Sorry,” he blurted. “I… forgot clean clothes.”

“Yes,” Ignis said hurriedly, his hands instinctively going to adjust his glasses and averting his gaze to focus back on the bag of clothing. “You often,” always, “do.”

“Yeah I just thought since…” he trailed off, still standing dumbly in the doorframe.

No it wasn’t time for this conversation. He would not have this conversation in a towel. And the way Ignis tensed as he spoke showed that Ignis was no more ready for this than he was, so he just shut his mouth and didn’t move.

“Here you are, highness,” Ignis pulled an outfit from the bag, folded neatly. He kept his eyes practically anywhere but Noct as he cautiously stepped over to him to hand him the clothing. “And your dirty clothes, if you please,” he requested, keeping them an arm’s length apart.

Noct turned back to the bathroom and grabbed his clothes from the day and handed them over, taking the clean ones from Ignis. He wasn’t as careful keeping their skin from touching and when their fingers brushed together he almost dropped the clothes.

“Sorry,” Noct burst again, jumping back into the bathroom and practically slammed the door behind him.

The water had been warm for some time. He could tell by the thin layer of the steam lining the mirror and the way the closed door instantly made the room warmer. He ran a hand over his face, staring at the door. “Shit,” he muttered, then relented and stepped into the shower.

That, by far, had been the weirdest thing to happen today. And now there was absolutely no way of getting out of the impending conversation. Ignis couldn’t pretend that hadn’t happened. Noctis refused to believe that Ignis didn’t want to fix this as much as he did. As much as he wanted to figure out what the kiss had meant, he would rather have Ignis back. Normal, regular, nagging Ignis. His Ignis.

His Ignis? Since when had Ignis ever been his? Since when had he ever thought about Ignis being his?

He brought a hand up to his lips, trailing over the bottom one thoughtfully. Finally the reality crashed down on him. He’d kissed Ignis. Ignis kissed him back. He and Ignis had kissed. And the weirdest part about all of this is that all he could think about was how it would feel to kiss Ignis again. He wanted to kiss Ignis again.

But the way Ignis was reacting gave him tremendous pause.

Noctis was the leader, he was in charge. Ignis was his advisor. He must have crossed a line and Ignis wasn’t sure how to redefine that line. He was loyal, almost to a fault, and unyielding in his duty. Had he taken advantage of his position and pushed Ignis into something he didn’t want? Had he ruined their friendship beyond repair? The entire incident had started out so innocently – just a desire to be there for his friend, a friend who wouldn’t ask for his help unless prompted.

He leaned against the tiled wall of the shower, letting the hot water trail over his body. He watched the droplets run down his skin, falling from his hair and running down his chest. Part of him wished he could disappear down the drain too, that way he wouldn’t have to deal with the rift between him and Ignis. He could disappear to a place where feelings didn’t matter and he just was, he just existed without sorrow or love or loss.

The thought was tempting and impossible. Noctis knew his duty and knew he would be facing Leviathan soon. With any luck, by the end of the week the war would be over. He and Luna would be together. Prompto would take pictures at their wedding, Gladio would stand awkwardly with his chest just about bursting through a shirt that would be too tight, and Ignis would be by his side as he always had been. They would smile at each other right before Luna walked the aisle to him. He would take his place on his father’s throne and try to piece the kingdom back together.

Noctis squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t want to think about that. Thinking about the wedding and Luna wouldn’t go anywhere that he wanted it to – not with Ignis in the next room stewing in an uncomfortable silence before Noct would have to reemerge from the bathroom, and certainly not with his doubts about what his actual feelings towards Luna were.

The drain looked more appeasing each minute.

Slowly, Noct cleaned his hair. The sea air made him feel sticky and oily and he grimaced as he scrubbed soap into his skin before turning the heat of the water up a notch. It burned a bit and reddened his skin, but it felt cleaner. He forced his muscles to relax under the warm water, pushing his palms against the wall as he stretched out the tension. He took deep breaths, trying to empty his mind for just one moment of peace.

Finally he turned the water off. He stood in the heat of the room, breathing in the warm air as he watched the steam curl in the air, floating slowly up. Noct dried himself off, sloppily running the towel over his hair then throwing it over a hook on the back of the door. He threw the change of clothes on then let his hand rest on the doorknob in hesitation. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he opened the door.

Half of him expected Ignis to have managed to switch rooms, but his advisor was standing over his own bag. He almost fled back into the bathroom, wavering in the doorway before stepping back into the room. Without a word, Noctis sat on his bed, keeping his eyes on Ignis.

“Hey,” he started, the word coming out more breathy than he wanted.

“If you’re finished, I believe I’ll wash up now,” Ignis interrupted, his eyes never leaving his bag that he rummaged through aimlessly.

Noctis rolled his eyes. Another diversion. Eventually Ignis would run out of ways to dodge the conversation. “Yeah I’m done,” he confirmed. “Ignis—”

“Out in a moment then.” The advisor practically ran to the door, shutting it quickly behind him and Noctis felt like the click of the lock would echo through the hotel room forever.

He flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. Maybe he really had crossed a line. But he hadn’t felt like he was the only participant in the kiss – he wasn’t even sure who leaned in first. It had felt mutual.

Ignis took longer in the shower than usual and Noctis knew that wasn’t a mistake. Under any other circumstances, he would’ve been concerned and possibly would’ve check on his friend. But he knew the reason for the long wait. Delaying the inevitable seemed unlike Ignis, though he hadn’t been acting like himself for most of the day. It was as if last night had opened up a side of Ignis that Noct had never been privy to before.

When the door to the bathroom finally reopened, Ignis had his towel still wrapped around his shoulders as he pat the back of his hair. He looked younger with his hair down flat, the way he wore it when he started university. The advisor was carefully not making eye contact with Noctis as he moved back to his bag, adjusted something inside, and then set it on the floor neatly next to his bed. Noct watched him walk back to the coffee pot for yet another mug.

“Do you not want to sleep tonight?” he asked before he could stop himself.

The tension in Ignis’ shoulder returned and he dropped his hand from around the towel. “I’m surprised you’re still awake, highness,” he replied instead of answering.

“Yeah well,” Noct sat up on the bed and deadpanned at the back of Ignis’ head. “I’m surprised you’re not shaking like a lunatic without how much coffee you’ve had in the past thirty minutes, but it happens.”

Ignis turned around and frowned at him from over his coffee. “I’ve been drinking coffee for many years now, a few cups won’t—”

“Ignis that’s like your sixth cup.”

“Fifth.”

“Still.”

Ignis huffed and put the mug down with more force than Noctis expected. The clack of the cup against the marble was practically a scream inside the silence as Noct glared and Ignis looked pointedly out the glass door behind the prince’s head.

“Are you just never going to talk to me again?” Noct finally asked, hoping this wasn’t a question Ignis would find some way to avoid.

“We’re speaking right now, highness.”

He should’ve seen that one coming. “You know what I mean, Specs,” he retorted, specifically using the familiar nickname to contrast the way Ignis continued to address him so formally.

It didn’t go unnoticed and he saw Ignis suppress a wince. “It’s just coffee,” he tried.

Frustrated, Noct stood. Ignis took a cautionary step back from the counter as Noctis moved to stand on the opposite side of the bar. “I’m not talking about the coffee. You’ve been avoiding and dodging me all day. Can we please talk?”

Ignis visibly faltered and the guilt punched Noct in the stomach. “What would you wish to discuss, highness?” His voice was tense and forced and he looked like he wanted to run from the room.

Noct wanted to reach into Ignis’ mouth and pull the word highness from his extensive vocabulary. He was going to make Noct spell it out because he didn’t think the prince actually would. He was mistaken. “I want to talk about what happened last night,” he pushed, speaking like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, at this moment in time, he knew it was. Ignis was just refusing to acknowledge it.

At that, Ignis dropped his gaze, surprised. It almost felt like a victory. He grasped the mug again, downing the last of it in one swallow before turning the sink on to wash it out. “I apologize if I worried you. It was a dream, nothing more. Thank you for your concern, but I assure you I am just fine,” he said, calculating and slow. It sounded planned and still skirted away from what he knew Noct meant.

Still, it was another problem that should be addressed and Noctis jumped at the chance to press Ignis gently on the subject. “You could’ve told me you had nightmares,” he offered.

“That’s unnecessary,” Ignis declined. “I am perfectly capable of—”

“It’s not about being capable,” Noct interrupted. He’d been given this speech by Ignis a hundred times. Ignis would fondly berate him for not asking for help or trying to weather the storm on his own. Noctis would argue that he didn’t need hand holding, to which Ignis would reply that it wasn’t about holding his hand: it was about being next to him and showing support for a friend in need.

Ignis didn’t need the same speech because he knew the speech by heart. That was clear in the way he looked up at Noct, a soft frown settled on his lips. “It’s different. I told you.”

“Oh right,” he bit back. “I’m your job.”

It stung. The fears he’d had previously welled up in his throat. So maybe Ignis had felt forced to be near him. Noct was his responsibility – his job. If Ignis only felt compelled to help him only through his position, were they even friends? He scowled and looked away from his advisor.

The sink was shut off and the mug was abandoned. Ignis sighed heavily and, out of the corner of his eye, Noct saw him remove his glasses to rub two fingers against his temple, the other hand moving to the counter so he could lean heavily against it. “You are the prince,” Ignis told him tiredly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

“Of course, but that doesn’t absolve you of your status.”

“It’s just you and me, Ignis. There’s no one else here.”

Another sigh as if he didn’t want to be reminded. “Everyone has nightmares.”

Noct huffed and turned back to Ignis, reaching across the bar top to pull his hand away from his face. The touch startled Ignis and his eyes snapped open as he tried to step back again, but Noct’s grip held him in place. “That wasn’t just a nightmare,” he said firmly. “It wasn’t just a ‘went to class without pants’ dream. It wasn’t a nightmare like everyone else has.” Ignis disconnected their eyes and tried to remove his hand from Noctis, but he pulled Ignis toward him instead. “Was it?”

“Noct,” Ignis warned, prompting Noct to let go of him, almost relieved to hear his name instead of a title.

They stood in the would-be kitchen, Noctis practically glaring at Ignis’ profile while the other looked at the wall stubbornly. Ignis flexed the hand that Noct had been holding then clenched it into a fist as if to get the feel of him away.

“I’m sorry I kissed you.” The words fell from his mouth in a rush before he could lose his nerve.

This time Ignis winced openly. “It’s late,” he murmured, putting his glasses back on. “We ought to sleep.”

“Ignis—”

“Noct,” Ignis cut him off, snapping their eyes back to each other. Noctis swallowed and he watched Ignis carefully. There was no anger in his voice or in his expression. He just looked exhausted and in desperate need of peace, but Noct didn’t miss the way Ignis’ eyes wandered over his face and lingered over his lips for just a second.

Somehow it made his resignation easier.

Wordlessly, they both moved to their individual beds. Noct laid on his back, glancing over at Ignis. His advisor was turned on his side, away from Noctis. He frowned at the ceiling but when the lights went out his habits turned against him and he felt sleep creeping over him. He could hear Ignis’ breathing, knowing that he was still awake.

“Good night, Ignis,” he murmured in the darkness.

There was a beat before the reply, “Sleep well, Noct.”

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