#why yes the fact that one half of the image is warmly lit and the other half not IS turning me evil thank you for asking

[embright]

poor angle and lighting, but I'm not redoing these. wanted something simple, alice-esque (not a complete coord... yet)

[moonstonemoonlight]

Locked in a cage continuation (pt.2) - DS Dream

Dreamswap belongs to Onebizarrekai

Warning for drugging and manipulation

Dream awoke slowly, feeling… warm. Warm and comfortable.

As he came back to himself Dream found that he was lain out on something soft, something which gave under his weight, a blanket tucked securely up around his shoulders. In his slow, shapeless stream of thoughts, he wanted to go back to sleep. Only the faint prickling of unease made him resist, reluctantly keeping his mind from sinking back into unconsciousness. Not until he was safe.

Dream cracked open his sockets just a little and coaxed his eyelights to phase into existence, bringing him the image of a bedroom, warmly lit by a flickering fireplace on the far wall. The dim glow filled the whole room, and as Dream scanned what little he could see without moving his head, he knew for certain that he had never been in this place before. This was nowhere in JR, nor was it the house of any of his allies. The bland decorations gave no hint to the AU he was in, and the lack of windows likewise left him guessing as to the outside.

He barely remembered last night - or however many nights ago it may have been - but he knew someone had taken him out of the cage, down the corridors, outside… So perhaps the stranger had been saving him after all. In which case, this must be their house, and maybe soon Dream could get some answers.

Eyelights wavering a little, Dream closed his sockets. He was still so tired… His bones ached with a soul-deep heaviness. Dream could feel a familiar tingling across his back, telling him his wings were close to reforming, but he must not have enough magic to manage it yet. It couldn’t have been long since he got out. The drug may still be in his system - that would be why his head was so heavy, and his thoughts moved so slowly. 

There was a resounding click through the room, and his eyes snapped open again. The door at the end of the room swung open, and a familiar figure leaned around the doorway, carrying two mugs.

“Good morning!” Blue chirped, making his way to the side of the bed, setting the mugs on the bedside table. Dream stared at him. Blue didn’t seem to mind, sitting comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Here, let me help you up.”

“What are you doing? Why am I here?�� Dream hissed. Stars, his voice was frail. He could barely muster indignation in his tone.

“I doubt that you can sit up on your own.” Blue continued, reaching for Dream’s shoulders, lifting him to sit up against the pillows. As Dream leaned back, he realised Blue was probably right. He could barely move.

“Here.” A mug was settled into his hands, and Blue sipped from his own mug. Dream stared down at what looked like tea, but made no move to drink it. He doubted his arms could lift the mug without spilling it, anyway.

“... Why am I here?” he asked again.

“Do you remember what happened?” Blue asked. After a moment, Dream nodded. He remembered enough. Blue leaned closer, lowering his voice secretively. “I tracked down where you had been stolen away to. I broke you out.” Dream squinted at him suspiciously. In return, Blue smiled. “I was worried when you passed out. But you’re safe now.”

“Safe?”

“Of course! This house is tucked away, and no one else knows where you are. You’re safe here.”

Dream grumbled faintly, distrustful, but he supposed he could bear Blue’s company until his magic was restored. The other wasn’t inherently dangerous from what he knew, just disruptive and unerringly good at sneaking into places he shouldn’t. He certainly wouldn’t be a match for Dream when his strength returned.

“How do you feel?” Blue asked, when Dream stayed quiet.

“... Tired.” he admitted, after a moment. There wasn’t much use in lying.

“Unsurprising, really. Drink your tea, it’s infused with magic.”

Blue cupped his hands around Dream’s, helping him bring the mug to his teeth. Though loathe to let himself be handled like a sick child, protesting would really just be more embarrassing, especially in his weakened state. He took a sip. It was sweet, and Dream recognised the taste of golden flower tea as well as the faint buzz of magic, drinking more. He sighed as he felt his wings start to form, still intangible and glass-like, but at least returning. Blue set the empty mug on the table.

“Feel better? I’ll get you some food.”

Dream watched him leave, and narrowed his eyes when he heard a lock click shut. Concerning. Blue had managed to make him uneasy without even doing anything, as was his usual way. But at least he wasn’t blatantly antagonistic.

Listening to the cracking of the fire, Dream sighed breathily. It was only a temporary arrangement. Soon he would go back to JR, and sort out this mess, although he didn’t look forward to catching up on his paperwork. Just thinking about it made him tired.

His wings reforming was a good sign, even though the unintentional use of magic had made him understandably dizzy, and he let his sockets close to soothe his building headache. Some food would do him good, and hopefully help shake off the effects of exhaustion…

He was asleep before Blue returned.

-

The next time he woke, he felt far too warm, struggling to push away the soft blanket, which had been pulled up high around his shoulders at some point. His head was killing him, and Dream pressed his face sideways into a pillow, huffing. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, and it certainly didn’t seem to have done him any good. His bones ached. Spying the fireplace on the far wall, Dream wondered if it was why the room was so hot, starting to twist onto his side. It was unlikely that he could walk across the room, but he was seriously considering an attempt if it would ease his discomfort. Before he could make the decision, the door gave a click, and swung open. Blue’s indistinct figure appeared and walked over to him. Dream felt hands grip his arms and turn him back onto the bed, and bit back a whine as the covers were pulled up over him again, stifling him with heat. “You need to stay warm, Dream.”

Dream made an inarticulate sound of disagreement.

“I’m not surprised you got sick, with what your body has been through.” Sick? Yes, perhaps that made sense, and explained the raging headache and achiness.

“How long was I asleep…?” he mumbled blearily, sliding his eyelights towards Blue. A cold cloth was pressed against his forehead.

“Not long.”

The cool dampness was pleasantly soothing to his headache, and Dream let himself relax back into the pillows a little as Blue puttered around, making vague murmurings.

“Luckily for you I had some medicine in my cabinet…” a spoon of said liquid was offered to him, and Dream begrudgingly swallowed it, to no immediate effect. How typical, he couldn’t remember the last time he was ill, and now when he needed his strength a common cold snuck up on him.

A huffed laugh came from beside him, and a hand lightly touched Dream’s face, as if testing his temperature. “You’re burning up,” Blue hummed.

‘I could have told you that,’ Dream thought, brow scrunching in irritation, though his mouth felt a little too stiff to articulate it. “The medicine should help with that.”

Hopefully, it would. Dream wanted to banish this insistent headache as soon as possible. Another pat to his skull and he felt Blue shift off the bed, footsteps tapping away. The door clicked, and Dream was left alone in the room, with his own near-incoherent thoughts. He’d forgotten to ask Blue to douse the fire. Of course, as soon as he acknowledged the thought, his bones clamoured to let him know that they were, in fact, burning, and would not be ignored. And although the cold rag on his forehead was helping, his headache uncooperatively pulsed to remind him that his body had apparently turned against him. He felt achy and unpleasant all around. Even his wings were twitching uncomfortably, the feathers rustling together in a half-tangible way, drawing on his magic.

Time passed unbearably slowly. For all he knew it had been minutes, or hours, as there were no windows or clocks to help him keep track. It was almost like he was back to being stuck in a cage, except the bed was comfortable and let him stretch out his legs, and the fireplace kept it warmly lit, and there wasn’t a looming threat of death or enslavement. If only he wasn’t ill he might appreciate it. 

The medicine Blue had given him must have kicked in, because it was a little easier to think, and he felt a drip of magic feed into his system.

A prickling sensation across his back spelled disaster, magic fizzling unpredictably. Dream audibly groaned when his wings became corporeal. The added pressure on his magic felt like a weight on his chest, straining his breath. Of all the useless, illogical things for his magic to do with his expanded reserves, now he was intensely aware of his wings twisted awkwardly in the blankets, feathers tousled and twitching erratically, aching in their own kind. Bringing his hazy thoughts together, Dream tried to dispel his wings. They… just, lay on the bedding, unaffected. Of course.

Dream contained a high pitched sound of frustration and rolled his skull back against the pillows. His head hurt again. When he cracked open his sockets he could see the glow of his wings contending with the light from the fireplace, but it also made the room spin and his headache worsened, so Dream kept his eyelights scattered and closed his sockets, trying to ignore the compulsive flutter of his wings.

With more time, and a few more failed attempts, Dream let his wings splay on the blankets and just sunk into the pillows, tired. He could only hope they would destabilise, and dissipate on their own.

Then, he heard footsteps tapping over wooden floorboards.

Not bothering to lift his head, Dream listened to the sounds as they halted, the door clicked and swung open, and Blue walked inside, only to stop again.

“Oh…” Blue’s voice sounded soft, almost awed. At another time, Dream might have appreciated the reverence and honesty of his tone, but his skull hurt too much for him to be particularly flattered. Instead, he tilted his head ever so slightly and hoped Blue had brought him painkillers. Padded footfalls made their way to his bedside, where a glass of water was set down, the bed sinking slightly as Blue sat next to him.

A delicate brush of fingers trailing over his feathers made him shiver. Dream slid an eye open to squint narrowly at Blue, feathers bristling slightly as his wings fluffed up. Blue wasn’t remotely paying attention to his - rather feeble - glare. One hand ran down the curve of his wing, carding through the magical feathers and making them rustle softly. Dream shuddered again, hissing between his teeth as his wing stretched and batted at Blue lightly. Said skeleton gave a disgruntled little snort, but nonetheless pulled his hands away.

“I don’t think I’ve ever touched your wings before.” he said, finally.

Dream would have liked to chastise him for touching without asking first, but his jaw was stiff and all he managed was indecipherable grumbling, an unfocused golden eyelight fixed on Blue.

Blue met his gaze evenly, then smiled. Glass clinked against Dream’s teeth. “Here, this should help.”

The water was cool as it passed his teeth, and it did help his headache, though the faint tingle of magic had him grumbling mildly as his wings fluttered and twitched. Pins-and-needles twinged his body, then swept into a pleasant numbness that soothed his overworked magic. The relief had him relaxing back against the pillows, letting his eyes drift closed as his expression lost its sharp edges. A hand lightly ran over his skull in a soothing, repetitive gesture of comfort, and Dream only made a faint sound of protest as he settled down into the blankets.

[ladymercytaylor]

All In - Chapter 6 (Joe Mazzello x Reader)

A/N: HELLO! And we’re back again with part 6 of All In! This one isn’t as thicc as the last one but honey we getting to the angsty part now! also shout out to everyone that left comments on my last chapter - you honestly have no idea how happy it makes me to see you engaging with my writing <3 <3 (also i obvs don’t own the line break image. thanks google)

Looking for the last chapter? Find it HERE!

Chapter 6 – 11 weeks

At 11 weeks pregnant, the end of your first trimester was finally in sight and you’d never been so excited. So many of the books you’d read told you that in a lot of pregnancies the morning sickness would ease after the third month. It was the one thing that you’d held onto through every trip to the bathroom – every interrupted night’s sleep – you’d held onto the faith that it would be over soon. The other 2 trimesters would be easier and then you’d get the ultimate reward; your little Nugget in your arms. You’d felt fine when you woke that morning, so fine in fact that you’d even managed to keep your breakfast down as you got ready. Encouraged by your small victory you’d left the apartment with a smug smile on your face and a spring in your step. And you were practically jumping for joy when you hurried up the concrete steps of the subway after managing to stay on the same train for the whole trip (instead of having to change 3 times to throw up which had become your new routine).  It must be going now. It had to be.

“Hello, Nadia” you grinned as you stepped into the change room of your practice. The younger girl smiled at you as she pulled her purple scrubs over her thick curly hair. “Hey, boss” she laughed, tying the drawstring of her uniform. “Have a good weekend?” “Yeah, it wasn’t bad” you murmured, pulling your freshly laundered clothes out of your locker. “Went to a cute brunch place in Greenwich Village with my roommate Saturday morning then dinner and a movie with a friend” “That sounds like a date” Nadia sang teasingly, pulling her hair up into a puffy ponytail. You rolled your eyes at her antics, swapping your floral dress for the plain blue top. Your dating life was one of her favourite topics of interest (despite the numerous times you assured her that it was non-existent at best). “Definitely not a date, Nadia. Not everyone’s social life is as colourful as yours” you joked and her dark brown eyes lit up with excitement. “Oh my god I have to tell you the craziest story” she chirped to your back as you pulled on the bottom half of your uniform at sat down to tie you shoelaces. “So, you remember my friend I told you about, Salma, yeah?” all it took was one nod from you for her to launch into the dirty details of her weekend. You were always slightly nervous when you got a new mentee but after only an hour with Nadia your fears had been put to rest. And nothing made your Mondays more interesting than hearing about the antics of her and her slightly messy friends. 

She continued to tell you all about her weekend as the two of you walked into your examination room, her hands flying in front of her as she illustrated the exact route she and her friends had run through Central Park at 4am to get to some exclusive rave before the doors closed.  “Alright, do you want to read the appointment notes for our first case and tell me how we should set everything up?” you asked, settling down on your stool. Nadia grinned at you before turning to the glowing computer screen. “Well it’s just a routine cleaning so we’d need…” her voice faded away as a cold sweat brought out across your brow. Your stomach lurched and you shot up from your stool sending it skittering across the floor.  “Set everything up and I’ll see how you’ve done when I get back from the bathroom” You couldn’t wait for her response, dashing from the room as your insides clenched again. Stumbling down the white corridor you managed to throw yourself into the bathroom as your breakfast reappeared, only just managing to get yourself over the porcelain bowl.  A dejected sigh fell from your lips as you sat back on your heels, the water swirling down the drain. The best morning you’d had in the last 11 weeks and now it was ruined. Luck seemed to have been on your side and you’d avoided being ill at work but it seemed that Nugget didn’t care at all that the sickness should be easing by now. You should have known. With a father like Joe there was no way your baby wasn’t going to be a troublemaker. You startled as you exited the bathroom. Sam, the practice manager, was leaning up against the opposite wall, calm concern on his slightly lined face.  “Hi, Sam” you chirped, attempting to appear casual but his expression didn’t waver.  “Y/N” he started gently and you felt your stomach drop. “I’m going to say this as a friend, is there anything you want to tell me?”  A soft sigh escaped your lips and irritated tears welled in your eyes. You’d been hoping to keep it to yourself for a little while longer, but your cover seemed to have been blown.  “I’ve got a free slot after I finish up with Mrs Summers, could I stop by your office?” you asked meekly, toeing at the stiff grey carpet.  “I think that’s a very good idea” he smiled warmly. Sam patted your shoulder gently and headed back to his office. A distinctly different kind of nausea settled in your stomach as you walked back into the exam room.

45 minutes later your heart was hammering against your ribs as you knocked on the office door. “Come in” came a muffled voice from behind the wood. You look a steadying breath before turning the silver handle and stepping inside. Sam was waiting for you, a steaming mug of coffee next to his mouse along with a half-eaten biscuit. He grinned as you entered, immediately gesturing for you to take the seat on the other side of his desk. “So, anything in particular you want to chat about?” he chuckled jovially, acutely aware of the pinched expression on your face. “Lovely weather we’re having today” you hummed, looking over the top of his head at the brightly lit New York street outside his window. “Y/N” he murmured warningly and you huffed a sigh, your teeth worrying at your lip.   “I’m pregnant” “Congratulations” he smiled but you couldn’t return it. “How long have you known?” you asked, picking up a stray pen from his desk. “A couple of weeks. When I realised you’d switched to decaf and were wearing the scrubs a size up from your usual” he shrugged, leaning back in his office chair. The back squealed loudly in the silent office. “You know it’s not a problem, right?” Sam murmured, concern in his pale blue eyes. “Everything in your contract still stands. Paid leave for 3 months and we’ll hold your job for a year” he reminded you gently. “That isn’t why I kept it quiet” you admitted, spinning the plastic biro distractedly across the wooden surface. Sam waited patiently, concern knitting his grey eyebrows. “It’s all just such a mess” you sighed after a few moments, still staring resolutely at the desk. “And work was the one place I didn’t have to think about it. Until this morning” “A surprise was it?” Sam asked softly, leaning forward on his forearms. Nodding softly you continued to spin the pen in front of you. “My first was a surprise” the affection that always warmed his voice when he spoke of his children coloured his words as he turned his eyes to the framed photos resting below his computer monitor. His wife and 2 daughters smiled back up at him through the glass and you felt your heart squeeze as a tender smile twisted his lips. “Yeah but at least you and Lara were actually dating” you muttered dejectedly. A tense beat passed between you. “Ah. Is there any chance that I know who the father is?” a small nod was all he needed. “I can see why you’re calling it a mess” he admitted, running a hand through his greying hair. “But if I can say one thing?” you nodded your permission, abandoning the biro under your fingers. “You couldn’t have picked a better guy”

Joe’s heart was hammering in his chest as he stared at his phone screen. 2 weeks was too long to put this off. He knew he should have called the day of the ultrasound, but the nagging fear of his mother’s reaction had kept him pushing it out of his mind. But now that the milestone 1st trimester was drawing to a close he knew there would be hell to pay if he left it any longer.  With trembling hands he pressed her icon before bringing the phone to his ear.  “Don’t pick up. Don’t pick up” he whispered to himself, his leg bouncing against the sofa cushions. His desperate prayers were not met however, as the ringing abruptly stopped, the gentle voice of his mother replacing it.  “Hello, stranger. I was starting to think you’d forgotten about me” Virginia laughed softly. Joe chuckled along but his guts twisted with guilt.  “Sorry about that mum. Just had a lot on my mind the last few months” he murmured, dragging his fingers along a red stain in his track pants. Sadness settled over him as he remembered how that mark had come to be. It was one of his favourite memories with you – a rather misguided attempt to recreate his grandmother’s meatballs that had ended with an absolutely ruined dinner and sauce all over the two of you.  “Anything you want to tell me?” she asked gently, pulling Joe out of his reverie.  “Yeah, there actually is” He should have known that his mum would figure it out. He was never able to hide anything from her. “You might want to sit down for this one” “Okay, I’m sitting” Virginia replied wearily after a moment of pause as she settled at the dining room table.  “You remember how I went to that wedding a couple of months back?” Joe started, the muscles in his jaw clenching.  “Sebastian’s? Yes, the photos were gorgeous” “Well, Y/N was there” his admission was met with stunned silence. It was the first time she’d heard Joe speak of you in a year. He had always been very tight lipped about the breakup – refusing to supply any details beyond ‘It just wasn’t working’. Virginia had loved you like a daughter, and she knew she should have held back her curiosity, but it burst forth before she could stop it.  “You never told me! How is she? Please tell me she’s well” she babbled and Joe felt the tips of his ears begin to burn.  “She’s good. Really good, actually. Now I’m just going to get this out of the way so sorry if it’s a bit blunt” Joe started, terrified that he’d lose his nerve if he so much as paused, “we slept together after the wedding and now she’s pregnant and we’re going to raise the baby together” he blurted out in one big breath, the only other sound he could hear was the rushing of his heart in his ears.  “Oh my” were the only words his mum could think of. She was expecting him to say he’d be leaving for another long project or even that he’d lost a job he was excited about. Never did she imagine that he’d be telling her that he was having a baby. With his ex-girlfriend. “Oh, Joseph Mazzello. What have you done?” she sighed heavily and Joe’s insides lurched uncomfortably.  “I didn’t mean to, mum” he murmured, suddenly feeling like a child that was being scolded for breaking something valuable. “It all just…happened. And it was her choice to keep the baby!” he added quickly, his foot bouncing even faster against the floorboards. “I was okay with whatever she wanted” “I’m sorry, love” Virginia whispered, running a hand through her hair, “I’m just surprised. I mean I’m not surprised that it’s Y/N. Better than a random one night stand I suppose” “Wow, great pep talk” Joe deadpanned, flopping back dramatically onto the couch cushions.  “Are you two getting back together?” his mother asked, ignoring his groan. His stomach dropped.  “No. Just…doing it together” Joe finished lamely, his cheeks blazing with embarrassment.  “Right” Virginia nodded, not pressing the issue. She could hear the disappointment colouring his words. She didn’t want to poke the wound any further so she let it slide. “I’m sorry, hun, but I’ve got to go. Meeting up with friends for lunch”  “Oh, okay” Joe stammered. “I guess I’ll let you go then”  The two said their goodbyes and Joe was just about to remove the phone from his ear when his mum piped up on the other end.  “Joe?”  “Yeah, mum?” “This isn’t a joke” she warned, scratching at a mark on the worn dining table, “This is a huge commitment”  “Why is everyone treating me like a goddamned child all of a sudden?” Joe spat out, anger shooting up his nerves like fire. “I’m 35 not some reckless teenager” “I didn’t mean it like that –” she sighed gently but Joe cut across her.  “No, mum. I know you mean well but I know exactly what I’m doing” he snapped before ending the call and tossing the phone onto the other side of the couch. The small device bounced off the charcoal cushions before clattering onto the polished floor but Joe didn’t care. Furious tears were welling up in his eyes as his mother’s words echoed in his head. He could do this. Why did everyone think he was so incapable? Did he have ‘chaotic mess’ tattooed on his face?  Still grumbling to himself he stormed upstairs and into his office, throwing himself into his desk chair and grabbing his laptop. He was going to show them. He was going to show them all.

The heat was sweltering as you stepped out of the building, radiating off the dark pavement in shimmering waves. It stuck to your skin as you walked towards the train station, sweat beading on your brow. As you stepped down into the dark station a gust of warm air swept across your face leaving you grimacing. Not fancying a stifling trip home you shrugged off the thin jumper that was covering your floral dress. Usually hiding your bump was your top priority but the heat clinging to you was insufferable. And besides, what was going to happen on a 15 minute train ride? Much to your surprise your train pulled up right as you stepped onto the platform with the hoard of commuters and you were immediately swept inside with the crowd – no one paying you or your bump a second glance. Your hand was slick against the metal pole of the train as you tried to keep yourself from swaying into your fellow commuters as the train jerked along the tracks. The carriage lurched to the right, sending you stumbling into the man next to you.   “So sorry” you apologised, your hand immediately moving to rest on the small swell of your stomach. “All good” he dismissed casually, his eyes not leaving the phone in his hand. Shrugging to yourself you looked away, only to lock eyes with the aged lady sitting in the seat opposite you. You watched as her watery eyes drifted down to where your left hand rested on your belly. Instead of the warm smile you’d been so used to on the occasion that someone noticed your pregnancy, her lined face twisted into a look of pure disgust. You startled, stumbling as the train veered on the tracks. She turned away, staring resolutely down the carriage. You turned away too, shocked tears scratching at the back of your eyes. The train continued to hurtle down the tunnel, the steel wheels clicking against the tracks but you didn’t hear it, your mind completely clouded with angry confusion. She didn’t know you. She had no idea what you were going through with this bloody pregnancy - spending hours upon hours every week with the man who broke your heart for the sake of your baby. What gave her the fucking right?

“I come bearing dinner!” Joe chirped as he pushed the door to your apartment open. The plastic takeaway bag swung violently on the crook of his arm as he kicked the door shut with a satisfying thud. “I also brought dessert, couldn’t help myself” he added with a laugh but it died as his eyes fell on you, slumped over on the couch with your face buried in your hands as gentle sobs shook your shoulders. “Are you alright?” he asked, abandoning the food on the kitchen counter before dashing to your side. “I’m fine, Joe” you whimpered, dabbing the sleeve of your jumper to your eyes. “Just hormones” “Bullshit” he dismissed, shuffling closer to you on the sofa. He hadn’t seen you cry once throughout this whole ordeal. Something had to be off. “Just leave it” the words came out harsher than you intended but that didn’t stop your ex-boyfriend. “No. Tell me what’s wrong” he demanded, his eyes not leaving your bloodshot eyes. You tried to keep it in. Tried to pretend that really, you were fine. But it was too much to hold at bay and you exploded. “It’s not fair!” you sobbed, furiously trying to wipe away the tears that were still pouring down your cheeks. “Everyone else gets the whole picture. The mum and the dad and the happy family shit. And I get judged by little old ladies on the subway” you blubbered angrily, bitter tears dripping onto your legs. “You should have seen the way she looked at me!” you shouted and Joe swallowed thickly. “Just because I don’t have a ring apparently I’m scum of the Earth” “I’m sure that’s not what she meant –”  Joe said in a vain attempt to calm you down. “How would you know?” you rounded on him, eyes flickering with rage. “Nothing’s different for you. It’s not like you walk around with ‘soon to be single dad’ stamped on your forehead” “I just never imagined I’d be doing this alone” you muttered, your eyes dropping to your worn ballet flats. “You’re not doing this alone” Joe reminded you gently, moving to place a reassuring hand on top of yours but you pulled it away. “It’s not the same Joe and you know it” you snapped, shoving off of the couch cushions to pace tensely across the living room. Joe watched apprehensively. He’d seen you get like this only a handful of times and it had never ended well. “This was all just such a huge mistake” “Don’t say that!” he implored, springing off the couch. “Don’t call Nugget a mistake” he begged, reaching out to grasp your shoulders. His heart clenched as you stepped out of his reach. “But they are! This shouldn’t have happened! I don’t know why I thought this might work” “Because we work!” he shouted back, angry red splotches blooming on his throat “we’re good together, Y/N” “If we we’re so fucking good together then why did you leave, Joe?” you spat back, the words like acid in your mouth. “Why’d you break up with me if we were so fucking great?” “God damn it, Y/N! Can’t you see that I made the biggest mistake leaving you? Every fucking day I wish I’d never done it and that you were still my girl” Joe shouted, the words flying passed his lips. The tension in the apartment was so thick you could almost see it shimmering in the still air, sizzling between you. “Don’t say that to me, Joe” you snarled through the tears, your eyes narrowing dangerously as your hands balled into fists.  “Why can’t I? It’s true!” he shouted, your dismissiveness aggravating him. Deep down he knew you wouldn’t listen, but he’d always held on to that sliver of hope and it was quickly slipping through his fingers. “I’m so sorry, sweets” he begged, desperation in his hazel eyes. “I lost the best thing in my life that day” “And I lost EVERYTHING!” you screamed back, the words you’d held inside for a year ripping at your throat. “For fucks sake Joe I loved your dad too!” you sobbed, your chest aching. A dead weight settled in Joe’s stomach as he watched you shatter in front of him. “And I lost him. And then on top of that I lost the love of my fucking life” “Sweets, I’m –” “And I lost your mum. Your brother. Your sister. Gwil. Lucy. Rami. Ben – everyone!” you cried, “and you honestly thought we could come back from that?” the scoff that left your mouth felt like a dagger through Joe’s heart. “We’re meant to be together, Y/N” he muttered through gritted teeth, his chest heaving with laboured breaths. “I know you don’t want to think about it but you know it’s true. If you could just -” “Joe” a firm voice interrupted. He turned to see Flick standing in doorway to her bedroom, clad in rumpled pyjamas with her arms folded over her chest. “You need to leave now” “But –” he tried to explain, desperately gesturing to you but she shook her head. Her brown eyes drifted to you, sobbing quietly into your hands. “No” she commanded, stepping into the living room. You immediately gravitated towards her and she wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling your shaking frame tightly into her side. “You’ve done enough” she whispered as you buried your face in the soft fabric of her shirt. You didn’t hear the slam of the front door as Joe left the apartment. Only the sound of your thundering heartbeat flooded your ears as you cried into her neck. “It’s okay” Flick soothed, running her hand comfortingly up and down your back. “You’re okay. It’s going to be alright” Despite her kind words you felt your heart splintering in your chest. A part of you had always wondered if he regretted that day, if he’d change things if he could. You’d always thought the unanswered questions were the hardest part of it. But somehow this was worse.

TAG TIME!!! - again if you want to be tagged just let me know in the replies or message me! @sunflower-borhap-boys @blushingwueen @briarrose26 @mrsmazzello @escabell@yourealegendroger @sincereleygmg @zvzxs @dramatique-moi @borhapqueen92 @manuosorioh @deakyjohns @rogwhoretaylor @dinkiplier Stay tuned for more next wednesday! 

[whycantihavemorethan32characters]

Fireflies

Pairings: Romantic Logicality

Warnings: None, just a bunch of fluff

AUs: None/Cannonverse

@just-get-all-the-butterflies

   It was absolutely exquisite, all of it. The wide open field had a solemn few trees, about five sprawling angel oaks in the endless acres of prairie. The grass was speckled with bluebonnets, flag irises, blue columbines, and virginia day flowers. It was uncut, reaching up about knee high, thin and soft enough to be visually pushed aside when Patton and Logan tread a path through. In the background, you could hear a small, tinkling clear water stream. The water was habitat to small fish, hunting ground to the cranes, birthplace of miniscule frogs, backs wet with dew, as well as watering hole to the harmless rodents, felines, and canines that snuck in the dark. Everything was given a dull, pulsing glow by the millions of fireflies and rest languidly on the grass and ground, some buzzing around the air, going high enough to look like false stars glinting in the distance.

   However, the most beautiful, positively bewildering sight was the night sky. The dome of midnight blue was comparable to a planetarium, better even. Logan could see all the constellations clearly, and point out bright spots that were actually planets in the distance. The two of them could see whole galaxies, and whenever Logan pointed out a constellation, it would connect and the image would become somewhat of a transparent drawing around it so that Patton could visualize the picture better. Soon, the sky had warriors and animals drawn across it, and Logan explained the history of each one.

   They were laying in the grass, stargayzing, and pointing at the sky. Patton sat up, resting his body’s weight on one hand and picking a flower with the other. He twisted it between his finger and thumb a few turns, and then placed it behind Logan’s ear, tucking it behind his glasses. A small peach bunny edged out of the grass and to the pushed down vegetation that served as a type of bedding for the couple. Patton’s face lit up, and Logan smiled warmly at the sight. The tiny creature moved closer with each hop, eventually reaching Patton, who was now sitting criss-cross. He reached his hand out, and it sniffed him hesitantly, whiskers tickling Patton’s fingers.

   “Lo, look. Look.” Patton whispered excitedly. He looked almost childlike, his hair lit up by the lightning bugs’ glow, cheeks and nose catching the light as well. His clothes were covered with stray flowers, the stems of which had wormed their way into the fabric. His knees were grass stained, and his hands were just slightly reddened and dirty from climbing the trees and dragging his fingers through the grass. The picnic basket beside him was since emptied and then refilled with a bouquet of flowers to put on the dinner table back at the mind palace.

   The rabbit had decided that he liked Patton and Logan, and hopped into Patton’s hands causing the side to almost cry of joy. He was petting it’s little head with his pointer finger, and marveling and his ridiculously long ears. “I suppose he likes you, Patton.” Logan remarked, cocking his head slightly to the side. He reached his hand out a little, stroking the bunny’s spine, to which he arched said spine in delight. Patton gasped, and the lightbulb above his head was almost visible. “Oh, Logan, can we keep him? Please?”

   He chuckled at his boyfriend’s euphoria, thinking it over while Patton placed the small creature in their basket. He nodded. “Yes, Patton. We have the means to keep him, and I think he will make a good pet.” Patton practically launched himself into Logan’s arms, wrapping around his torso, half sitting in his lap. They nuzzled into each other, and both giggled at the other’s happiness. The bunny settled into the picked flowers, laying himself down for the night and dozing off. They watched the thing for a few beats, and Logan grasped Patton’s hand.

   “Come, starlight. I have something to show you.” And ask you he added to himself, blushing at the thought. They started walking over to one of the trees, fireflies scattering, and lighting up the atmosphere around them. “Almost seems like we should have mood music, huh?” Patton looked around at the scenery, baffled by the detail that Roman had produced for the “perfect date” that he asked him to create. He must be the luckiest father figure figment in the entire Thomasverse to have such great friends, and such a wonderful companion. The moral aspect gazed over at his boyfriend, and was almost brought to tears for the millionth time that night, overwhelmed by love and adoration. He remembered why he brought him out here tonight, why he asked for this date, and he almost let a tear roll down his cheek.

   “Yeah, mood music would be nice.” Logan replied, and not a moment after, a few notes started to sound out of nowhere. Maybe it was the manufactured sky, or the creek, or the ground, or the trees. Whatever it was, it sounded like water dripping in a repeating melody. It played over in the same order a few more times, and a tenor voice started singing, tambre just a little robotic, but soft enough to slow dance to. You would not believe your eyes, if ten million fireflies… Logan smirked, and Patton laughed out loud. “Fireflies, Lo! By Owl City! Like the lightning bugs in the grass!” He almost doubled over at the situational pun, and when he settled, Logan offered his hand.

   Lit up the world as I fell asleep. Patton took his hand and they started to dance, slow and swinging. Cause they fill the open air, and leave teardrops everywhere. The world lit up around them with more displaced fireflies buzzing around the couple. You’d think me rude but I would just stand and stare. They looked into each other’s eyes as they waltzed, speeding up just a little, pace matching their heart rates. I’d like to make myself believe that planet earth turns slowly. The chorus crescendoed as they picked up pace, going from their simple waltz to Logan spinning and turning Patton in his arms, pushing out and pulling in as close as they could go. It’s hard to say I’d rather stay awake when I’m asleep, cause everything is never as it seems.

   Their dance continued until the song was over, ending with a dip and a kiss that they never wanted to end, and continued to linger on their lips when they broke for air. They strolled for a little longer, taking in the starlight, fireflies still lighting up the grass, but mostly settling back into their original positions. The couple held hands, and filled the time with a small, mostly meaningless conversation, both of their minds off in some other place, pondering.

   “Logan, the reason I wanted to be out here tonight so bad, in fact the reason I was so happy when you accepted, was that. Well. Gosh. I...I need to ask you something.” He looked up hopefully at his boyfriend, waiting for a response, seconds seeming to be minutes.

   Logan cleared his throat. “I too, wish to ask you something, Patton. It’s good that we seem to be of a one track mind on this.”

   “Logan, it’s just that you make me so happy. I almost don’t know what to do with myself.”

   “Patton, love, you are… indescribably beautiful. Inside, out, and everywhere in between.”

   “Oh, you’re so sweet Lo. From the tip of your nose to the tips of your toes, and everything above your nose too. I really do love you, so so much.”

   “Darling,” he took a breath in, “may I ask you a question?”

   “Well ya just did! But yeah, hit me. I need to ask you something too.”

   Logan seemed slightly taken aback. “Oh, then you first. I insist.” He straightened his necktie and his back, ready to answer whatever Patton’s query may be. “How about at the same time.” Patton proposed, smile bright, but nervous. “As you wish. On the count of three?” Patton nodded, and began to count down.

   “1… 2… 3.”

   “Will you marry me?” Both men had taken a knee at the same exact time, summoning rings, and proposing to each other perfectly in sync. And for a heartbeat, only one, they both were stunned silent, each looking at the other in utter disbelief. But then that heartbeat passed. They both jumped into their fiance’s arms, tumbling to the ground, fireflies erupting and lighting up the moment. They were both lying down, taking in the petrichor and crying in each other’s arms. They put the rings on each other, and kissed. Patton sniffled when the embrace broke, looking up at Logan with watery eyes. “I guess that means yes.” Logan nodded. “Yes. Yes, always, of course, and forevermore, yes.”

   The binoculars hanged in midair, Roman willing them to stay suspended as he watched from a tree branch in the distance. Because, you see, he had been approached by both of his friends, both planning to propose to each other tonight, both begging him to make them the perfect date in the imagination, which he had control over. He smirked, looking on and the newly engaged couple. “Hehe, gay.” he whispered to himself shoving another handful of popcorn in his mouth.

[chubby-teen-wolf-campfire]

The Offices of Hale & Hale - Round 1 - Stiles

- by @chubby-derek-and-friends

Stiles took a deep breath and let it all out before as he stood in front of the glass doors for the Hale & Hale offices. He did his best to calm and center himself, giving himself a quick once-over in the doors’ reflection. At 23, Stiles was interviewing for his dream job as “Happiness Producer” for Hale & Hale, a position he felt he was born to have, and at a company he really wanted to be a part of. His gray suit wasn’t tailored but it was still cut well enough to show off his trim waist and broad shoulders. Stiles knew for a fact his ass looked great in the pants he was wearing, and his hair was actually behaving for once instead of sticking up like a porcupine. If ever there was a day when Stiles needed everything to go right, this was that day. Steeling himself, Stiles pulled open the front doors and confidently strode across the marble-tiled lobby to the front desk. His messenger bag swung heavily against his thigh. A young man with dark hair and a crooked jaw sat smiling up at him from behind the desk, while a smartly-dressed blond man with razor sharp cheekbones stood to the side of the desk. The blond seemed to tower over Stiles and was smirking at him as if Stiles had just done something amusing. “Hi, welcome to Hale & Hale,” the brunet greeted. “Hey, uh, hi, my name is Stiles Stilinski? I have an appointment with Ms. Lydia Martin?” Stiles replied, his voice a little higher than normal. “Oh yeah, definitely! Lydia’s expecting you. I’m Scott, by the way, and this is Isaac.” The sitting man smiled broadly and Stiles couldn’t help but feel like the enthusiasm in his tone was kind of puppy-ish. The blond nodded at Stiles blandly, then looked back at Scott. “That explains the deep breathing exercises,” he said. Stiles froze, just now realizing that they could probably see him through the door before he came in. Scott shook his head at Isaac and then smiled more warmly at Stiles. “Don’t let him get to you. When Isaac interviewed with Lydia he was so nervous he dropped a cup of coffee down his shirt before the interview. He had to cover it up with his scarf.” Scott chortled as he said that last part, making Isaac frown at him. “I told you, I just liked that scarf and wanted to wear it. I didn’t spill anything!” Isaac protested. Scott chuckled, “so then why did you smell like dark roast the entire time you were here?” “Cologne,” Isaac replied, trying to look imperious. “Yeah, sure,” Scott dismissed. Isaac rolled his eyes and then looked back at Stiles. “Come on, I’ll show you the way to Ms. Martin’s office.” Isaac turned and headed off toward the elevators. “See you at lunch, Scott,” Isaac called over his shoulder. Stiles hurried after him. “Good luck, Stiles!” Scott called after him. Stiles turned and gave him a smiling salute, before spinning back around just in time to dash into the closing elevator Isaac was in. “Whoa, that was a close one. These elevators must close pretty quickly, eh?” Stiles said, moving to lean against the back wall. Isaac hummed non-commitally, his focus on the cell phone in his hand. Stiles nodded and looked around the elevator. It was a polished gold color with a deep red carpet and refined accents. The simple elegance made Stiles’s heart pound a little harder, reminding him that he was actually here, at the place he’s dreamed about working since he’d first read about their offices opening 6 years ago, when Derek and Peter Hale decided to revive the family business. Stiles gulped at the thought of running into either of them. “So any advice for my interview, one nervous guy to another?” Stiles asked. Isaac looked up at him, a bored expression on his face. After a moment, he said, “Don’t drink any more coffee.” Stiles laughed, then stood up straight as the elevator slowed. He shook out his sleeves and made sure his jacket was smoothed down. When the doors opened, he followed Isaac down a brightly lit, tastefully decorated hallway and up to a small waiting area. An Asian woman sat behind a desk that faced the area, her focus shifting from her computer to Isaac as they approached. “Hey, Isaac! How’s it going,” she asked bubbily, a beautiful smile breaking across her face. “Hey, Kira. I’ve got Ms. Martin’s interviewee here. Stiles something,” Isaac answered, his attention barely leaving his phone. Stiles barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, yeah, hi, you must be Mr. Stilinski! I’m Kira Yukimura,” the woman said, rising and holding out her hand to Stiles. “Please, call me Stiles,” he responded, shaking her hand. Kira’s warmth was a drastic contrast to Isaac’s indifference. “I’ve got to go, Kira, Derek’s breathing down my neck. You got it from here?” Isaac asked, glancing up from his phone. “Of course! Thanks, Isaac,” Kira said. An idea sparked in Stiles’s head as he recognized the tense line of Isaac’s shoulders. Immediately Stiles flipped up the flap of his bag and pulled out a package of cookies he had gotten from one of his friends’ bakeries. “Hey, Isaac,” Stiles called as the taller man started walking away. He tossed the cookies to Isaac when he stopped, thankful when the blond was able to easily catch them. “Thanks for the advice, man. Have a great day!” Isaac looked down at the bag of cookies in his hand, then back up at Stiles. He blinked for a second, before turning and continuing on to the elevators. When he turned back to look at Kira, she had a Cheshire Cat grin on her face from watching the exchange. Stiles simply shrugged, “he seemed stressed, like he could use a cookie.” Kira laughed, “of course. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Lydia.” She gestured for him to follow her then walked down another short hallway to knock on a door with “Lydia Martin, HR Director” on the name plaque. “Come in,” came a voice from inside the office. Kira opened the door and leaned in, “Hey, Lydia, Stiles Stilinski is here for his interview.” “Of course, send him in, Kira. Thank you,” the voice answered. Kira smiled back at Stiles and gestures for him to go ahead. “Good luck,” she whispered as he walked past her. Stiles wasn’t sure if everyone here was either really nice, or if they really thought he’d need the luck. He walked in to the office that was styled extremely tastefully. Everything was elegant and somewhat expensive looking. The red headed woman sitting at the desk was styled in the same way, her appearance giving off the image of a classy executive with years of experience, even though she looked to be about the same age as Stiles. “Mr. Stilinski, thank you for coming in today.” Lydia stood and offered her hand to him. Stiles shook her hand firmly. “Thank you for having me,” he responded. “Please, have a seat,” Lydia gestured to the chairs in front of her desk. Stiles slid his bag from his shoulder and sat down on the edge of the chair. “So, Mr. Stilinski…” “Please, call me Stiles.” Stiles interrupted her. Lydia raised an eyebrow, but then continued, “…Stiles. What do you think you can bring to the offices of Hale & Hale that another applicant could not?” Stiles smiled and took a deep breath. This was the easy part. —- Several hours later, Stiles walked into his apartment and closed the door, leaning back against it. He felt wiped and emotionally drained. The interview had lasted for well over an hour, which most websites would seem to indicate was a good thing, but Stiles wasn’t so sure. Lydia Martin had been every bit the ball buster Stiles had expected, and he respected her for her ability to pick up on everything he didn’t say, but he also was pretty sure she didn’t like him. Yes, Stiles had the occasional bout of acerbity, but he also could be professional when it was required. Not that Lydia seemed to think anything about what he did was professional. Lydia had asked him to plan several events for a corporate environment before the interview so they could discuss his planning choices and experience. Stiles had decided to plan three events at varying levels of casualness to show off his wide experience and connections. Growing up with one parent who was a professional chef and another who was a police officer meant that he knew half the restauranteurs in the city and most of the people he would need to get a permit approved quickly for any sort of public venue. But Lydia seemed to question every single choice he’d made, from the food to the locations to the entertainment…nothing had seemed good enough. Stiles had maintained his cool, calmly explaining his reasoning behind each choice and also giving some of the alternate options he’d put in the plan as well, but nothing seemed to please Lydia. At the end of the interview, Stiles had felt like a balloon that had been punctured and left to deflate. Moving from the door, Stiles took off his bag and dropped onto the couch. He felt around in the bad for a minute before remembering that he’d given his cookies away to Isaac. Stiles groaned. A ping on Stiles’s phone alerted him to the reminder he’s set so he would make sure and send a thank you email after the interview. He almost felt like it wasn’t worth it, but Stiles would be damned if Lydia Martin got to him, so Stiles immediately pulled up the draft he had made previously and added a few things from the interview before sending it off. Rubbing his face, Stiles got up to start taking off his suit when his phone started ringing. He didn’t recognize the number. “Hello,” Stiles answered tiredly. “Hello, Stiles, this is Lydia Martin. Do you have a moment?” Stiles immediately sat up straighter, a pang Of hope flashing through his system. “Yeah, yes, of course.” “Good. Stiles, we here at Hale & Hale would like to offer you the position of Happiness Producer,” Lydia said. Stiles gaped, pulled his phone away to look at it, then put it back up to his ear. “…really?” Lydia chuckled. “Really, Stiles. You performed extremely well in your interview, handling the stress of your choices being questioned and explaining your reasoning very calmly and thoroughly. Your connections are quite extensive and your experience is varied as well. And you even sent a thank you letter after what had to have been a very difficult meeting.” Stiles huffed in surprise. “But do you know what really put you over the top, Stiles?” Lydia asked. “I…um…” Stiles stuttered. “The cookies, Stiles. You saw that an employee of Hale & Hale was having a difficult time and you acted to improve their day, at your own expense. You’re exactly the kind of person we want working as our Happiness Producer. Though of course you won’t have to spend your own money for us.” Stiles was speechless. Seriously? That had been the thing to put him over the top? “Stiles? Are you still there?” Stiles realized that he’d been quite for too long. “Yeah, yes, sorry, I’m still here! Sorry,” he rushed out. “Good. So when can you come back in and discuss everything?” Lydia asked. “Um, whenever you need me to.” Stiles answered. “Is tomorrow alright?” Lydia asked. “Tomorrow’s perfect.” “Good, then I will see you at 10 o’clock. Congratulations, Stiles.” “Lydia…Ms. Martin…thank you. Thank you so much.” “Don’t thank me, Stiles, you set yourself up for this success. Now you get to show us all what you can really do.” Lydia said. Stiles laughed. They ended the phone call, then Stiles leaned back against the sofa. He couldn’t stop the series of involuntary fist-bumps that followed, though he did resist literally crowing. He was going to be working at Hale & Hale! —- Stiles raced through the front doors of Hale & Hale, ignoring the blond kid sitting at Scott’s desk and dashing into the closing elevator. The huge bakery box in his arms barely cleared the doors in time. Stiles sagged against the elevator wall, gasping for breath. It took him a moment to notice the dark-haired man in the elevator with him. “Holy shit you’re Derek Hale,” Stiles blurted out, eliciting an eyebrow raise from the other man. Derek stared back at the gasping young man for several moments, before responding. “And you are?” “I’m…I’m Stiles Stilinski, Sir. Your new Happiness Producer.” Stiles said, finally starting to catch his breath. His heart was still racing at being in the elevator with the incredibly handsome CEO. Derek was someone Stiles had admired for years, both career-wise and aesthetically. To be this close to him on his second day of work was…a bit of a shock. “Derek,” the man said. Stiles blinked. “Call me Derek, I hate it when people call me sir.” Derek said. Stiles brain caught up with the conversation and stiles nodded, remembering an article he had read about how Derek didn’t like honorifics in the workplace. “Oh, yeah, sure…Derek. Can do, si…dude.” Derek’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t respond to the comment. “Is that for the meeting?” Derek asked instead. “Oh, yeah,” Stiles said, shifting the box in his arms. “The bakery I ordered them from had an issue with their delivery driver so I had to run out and get them myself and then there was an accident on 3rd so that slowed everything WAY down and I basically had to run the last block because I wanted to make sure that I was here on time for the meeting, although I doubt they would start without you so running into you here was actually incredibly lucky for me so…thanks?” Derek blinked at the onslaught, his eyebrows rising toward his hairline. The elevator dinged and began to open, causing Derek to walk out. He kept his hand pressed to the doorway, though, standing off to the side so Stiles could exit. “Thanks, Dude,” Stiles said, making his way to the conference room. Derek huffed behind him as they both entered the room, already full of people. The chatter stopped as they entered, probably due to Derek’s presence more than Stiles’s. Stiles carefully placed the box in the middle of the conference table, doing his best to avoid knocking over any coffee mugs or papers that were already there. When he opened the box, the smell of the freshly baked muffins inside began to waft around the room, eliciting a hum of approval. Many people moved forward to take one. “Everyone, this is Stiles Stilinski, our new Happiness Producer,” Lydia introduced, leaning forward to gently pluck a muffin from the box. “Stiles, that is Jackson Whittemore, our lead council, and his assistant Theo Raeken” Lydia gestured to a sandy-haired man who was looking over the muffins with distain, and a darker-haired younger man behind him, who waved with a smirk. “…that’s Danny Mahelani, our head of IT,…” The Hawaiian man already had a muffin crammed in his mouth as he hunched over a laptop. He gave Stiles a dimpled grin and a short wave before returning to his computer. “…that’s Peter Hale, our CFO,…” The slightly older, highly fashionable man snatched a muffin from the box, raising an eyebrow at Stiles before ignoring him to peel the muffin cup. “…Derek Hale, our CEO,…” Derek nodded at Stiles. Stiles waved back. “…Chris Argent, our COO,…” The bearded man nodded as well, picking up two muffins and handing one of them to the woman standing next to him. “…Allison Argent, head of Research,…” The woman next to Chris smiled at Stiles as she began nibbling at the muffin he’d handed her. “…Vernon Boyd, our heads of Security, and his wife Erica Reyes-Boyd, head of Promotions…” The tall, dark man and scary looking blonde both gave Stiles passive nods as they munched on their own muffins. The blonde winked. “…Scott McCall, in charge of our inter-office communications,…” Stiles and Scott both waved at each other before Scott enthusiastically took a bite of muffin. “…that’s Mason Hewitt, one of our interns. Our other intern, Liam Dunbar, is manning the front desk,…” The young black man waved enthusiastically from the corner of the room. “…And I believe you know Isaac, Derek’s assistant.” Lydia motioned last to the tall blonde as he came scrambling into the room with an arm load of files. He quickly began passing them out to people, not really acknowledging Stiles except to hand him a folder. Once he was done, though, he did take two muffins and then took up a position behind Derek as he tore into them. “Uh, hi, everyone.” Stiles said. “Welcome, Mr. Stilinski,” Peter said, his tone slightly oily, “Please, have a seat.” Stiles quickly sat down in the chair next to Lydia. Looking around the room, Stiles silently did an inventory of names and tried to make connections in his brain. He made it a goal to re-introduce himself to everyone in this room, and to get I know all of them. He picked up a muffin for himself as Derek stood to begin the meeting. “Alright everyone, so as you know…”

[e350tb]

Steven Universe: Ruby Stars - Learning to Fly

(Special thanks to @real-fakedoors for proofreading this!)

Learning to Fly

Clancy yawned and took a long sip of cheap coffee, shivering in the crisp night air. It was about three o'clock - far too early to be working, he thought.

Standing in front of the smouldering ruins of the old freight depot, the faint glow of the embers could still be seen on the ruined timbers. The police and the fire department were gathered around, milling over the wreckage to see what might be salvageable, and a woman from the Delmarva Railway Society was pointing animatedly at a burnt steam locomotive. For the life of him, Clancy couldn't work out why the OSS had called him out here.

"Shame about the engine," mused Bracknell, walking up behind him. He's shied away from coffee, and was sipping a cool bottle of cola. How he could drink a cold beverage outside this early in the morning was beyond Clancy.

"Eh," shrugged Clancy, "It'll probably be fixable. It's steel."

"Ten-shun!"

"Here we go," sighed Clancy, turning around.

Three men marched towards him from an army car that had parked just beyond the police line. The man who had yelled stood on the left - he was a grizzled, pale man, his face set in a perpetual frown. His deep brow was framed by the steel helmet he wore, upon which the insignia of a captain was printed. He wore a plain khaki jacket and trousers, hobnailed boots and leather gloves. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the two agents - he seemed to audibly growl.

The man on the right was a clear contrast. He was tall and handsome, and his skin was a deep tan. He had straight, well manicured hair under a peaked cap. His uniform was clean and tailored, and came in a royal blue - Air Force, Clancy guessed. His black belt and shoes were well polished and shone slightly in the moon light. His expression was stoic - he looked neither happy nor annoyed.

The middle man was the most striking. He wore enormous aviator sunglasses, despite the fact that it was night - it struck Clancy as quite impractical. He smoked a corn-cob pipe, and wore a tall khaki peaked hat. His face was set in stone - not in an irritated scowl like the captain, but an arrogant sneer. His uniform was minimalist - a brown tie over a khaki shirt, with trousers carefully tucked into his boots so that they puffed out slightly. He seemed almost familiar to Clancy, as if he was aping somebody else's image, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Bracknell tried to stand to attention. Clancy put a hand on his shoulder and he eased up.

"You must be the Gem Task Force," he grunted.

"That's Task Force Gem," corrected the captain.

The middle man took his pipe out of his mouth.

"Agent Miller, Agent Bracknell," he said, "Lieutenant-Colonel Bradshaw. These are Major King and Captain Clark."

"Yeah, we spoke on the phone," replied Clancy, "You said you'd send a guy over to give us our first assignment. He never showed."

"My apologies," replied the handsome man (Major King, apparently), "The OSS gave us the wrong address."

"That sounds about right," grunted Clancy.

"Well, if you want an assignment, I've got one for you right now," said Bradshaw.

He pointed towards the ruins, furrowing his brow.

"Steven Universe was at the scene when the fire broke out," he said.

"That'd be my luck," muttered Clancy.

"He's Greg Universe's kid," snapped Bradshaw, "He's involved with the Crystal Gems. And what gem makes fire, Clancy?"

Clancy swallowed quietly but didn't answer.

"Rubies, Agent Miller, Rubies," said Bradshaw.

"Like the one you lost," snapped Clark.

"Colonel, you're not suggesting that the Universe kid deliberately..." began Clancy.

"I won't rule anything out, no," interrupted Bradshaw, "But if he did, this constitutes an attack on American private property. It can't go unanswered."

"So what do you want me to do?" asked Clancy.

Bradshaw frowned, his lips thin. Clancy took a little satisfaction from this - he wasn't going to let himself be walked all over by some arrogant brass hat, after all.

"Gather intelligence," replied Bradshaw, "I want a dossier - everyone the kid deals with. The kid here can do that."

"I...uh...yes sir!" said Bracknell, saluting.

"Don't do that," sighed Clancy.

"Don't do that," grunted Bradshaw.

Bracknell swallowed and lowered his hand.

"Meanwhile, I want you to scout out gem sites in Delmarva," continued Bradshaw, "Temples, ruins, labs - if they've built tourist traps, I wanna know about it."

"Sir, you realise gem relics are a global thing?" asked Clancy, "You can't just drive down the interstate and find..."

"Don't argue. Just do it."

Bradshaw's tone was final.

"You have my number," he said, turning around, "I want daily reports. Good luck, Agent Miller."

"Dismissed!" bellowed Clark.

Clancy rolled his eyes as the men walked away.

"Well, you heard him," he muttered, "We've got stuff to do, Bracknell."

"Where's the first gem site, sir?" asked Bracknell.

"Oh, we're going to the most sacred temple of them all," replied Clancy, "We're going to Appledee's."

It was the crack of dawn.

Sadie yawned, a faint puff of mist emerging from her mouth. It was bitterly cold up at the Sky Arena, and she and Steven had both dressed warmly. Fluffy clouds surrounded the floating platform like moving mountains, lit in warm, yellow-and-red colours by the slowly rising sun. In the far distance, she could see the contrails of a plane. All was quiet but for the light rapts of footfalls, almost anxious in their urgency.

Garnet was pacing in front of her, hand on her chin. She seemed to be deep in thought - perhaps she was deciding where to begin?

She stopped suddenly and turned to her new pupil.

"Sit down," she said.

Sadie, somewhat perplexed, did so.

"Before we train your body," said Garnet, "We need to train your mind."

"You mean meditation?" asked Sadie.

"In a way," nodded Garnet.

She sat down in front of Sadie, crossing her legs. She held out her hands.

"Take them," she said.

Sadie hesitated before placing her hands in Garnet's. She blushed slightly, but shook her head and concentrated.

"Focus on me," said Garnet.

Her visor faded, revealing three eyes. Bristling slightly, Sadie tried to mimic her opposite's stoicism, but it was still a little difficult. She knew that Garnet had three eyes - just about everyone knew - but to see them, to be beholden by them so pointedly, was definitely a little intimidating. Blue, red, purple - she never noticed they were three distinct tones.

Swallowing, Sadie tried her best to do as Garnet bid, focusing on her deep and piercing stare.

"Count to four," instructed Garnet, "Breath in. Count to four, breath out..."

Sadie did so, steadying her breathing. She continued to look Garnet in the eye, and as she carried out the exercises, she began to feel more at ease. The stillness no longer seemed so hollow or intimidating, but oddly humble. Distinct corners and gradients of colour all fell out of focus, replaced by the rhythmic humming of air steadily leaving her lungs, only to re-enter again.

She blinked.

She was sitting in a wide-open plane, dimly lit in a rather comforting blue. It was cool but not cold; vast, but not terrifying in its immensity.

"What is this place?" she asked, finally breaking Garnet's stare.

Garnet looked to her left. Sadie followed her gaze, seeing a small, red figure standing next to them. It was a Ruby, but she didn't wear the same Homeworld uniform that Kay had. Hers was a plain dark red, with the front of the top a lighter red. She wore a headband around her hair. This, Sadie thought, must have been the Crystal Gem Ruby - the one that was now half of Garnet.

"You are a Ruby now," said Garnet, "Which means that you may have the powers of a Ruby."

"May?"

"You're half-human," replied Garnet, wearing a small smirk. "Like Steven. There has been nothing like either of you before."

"You may end up surprising us."

Sadie swallowed. She hadn't even been a gem for a week yet - she didn't really want to think about 'surprising' anybody.

"So, what can a Ruby do?" she asked, her tone nervous but with the slightest hint of excited curiosity.

Garnet smiled.

"Well," she said, "That's what you're here to find out..."

To their left, Ruby smiled, clenching her fists. Her arms burst into flames.

"Welcome to Ruby 101," said Garnet.

Time passed.

Peridot had watched Sadie's training by way of observation. The human seemed to be doing well. Every day, she'd head up to the Sky Arena with Garnet and Pearl; she'd return in the early evening, covered in sweat, dirt and more than a few bruises. Steven had taken to making dinner for her (or at very least ordering it from the Pizzas) when she got back, and oftentimes Peridot would join them to watch them eat.

She'd long decided that she liked Sadie. She reminded her a lot of Amethyst in some ways and a lot of Lapis in others, but mostly she seemed to be her own unique person, like most humans. In turn, she seemed to be getting along with her (as was to be expected - she was the Great and Lovable Peridot, after all).

And yet, Peridot was not at ease. While the conversations with Steven and Sadie were pleasant, they were marred by the absence of Amethyst. She still hadn't returned from Vidalia's house.

It had been a week, now. Peridot was only half-listening to Sadie talk about her training in pyrokinesis (apparently she was achieving a temperature warm enough to heat a "s'more" - what that was, Peridot had no idea - but it must have been some sort of accomplishment. Sadie could achieve it without even being angry.) She gazed towards the door, absently fiddling with a fork with her powers.

She sighed and stood up.

"I'm going to go check on Amethyst," she said.

Steven nodded.

"Can you tell her I said hi?" he asked.

Peridot nodded as she walked away.

It was a lovely evening. The sky was a mosaic of blue and crimson, and the sea breeze was pleasant. The walk to Vidalia's house should have been nice, but Peridot couldn't help but feel agitated. She knew that Amethyst was safe with her friend, but she missed her - and there was a part of her that felt somewhat irritated that she was spending so much time with the human.

Presently, she reached the house. A lanky youth with notably ill-fitting appearance modifiers paced outside the front door. He had a phone to his ear, and his tone seemed to flicker between excitement and impressively laid back. From what she’d learned in conversations with Amethyst, she guessed that this was Sour Cream.

"...yeah, that sounds pretty rad," he was saying, "And they can make sure it's...sweet. And your dad can handle this? I mean, he's not mayor anymore, so...great, tell him I said thanks!"

He glanced over to Peridot.

"Oh, someone's here, I gotta go. See you around, Buck."

He hung up.

"Hey!" he said, "It's Peridot, right? Crystal Gem?"

"Yes," nodded Peridot, tight-lipped. "I am Peridot, Current Leader of the Crystal Gems. And you are...Sour Cream? Onion speaks very highly of you."

Sour Cream smiled.

"You here to talk to Amethyst?" he asked.

Peridot nodded.

Sour Cream led her inside. They passed Onion on the way in - he was venturing out with a blowtorch and a pair of wire cutters. Peridot waved - Onion waved back.

They found Vidalia in the living room, reading a worn scrapbook. She smiled as her son lead Peridot in. Awkwardly, Peridot smiled back - she avoided the woman's eyes. Sour Cream waved and walked away, headed for his room.

"You must be Peridot," said Vidalia kindly, "Amethyst's in the bathroom right now; how about you sit down here while you wait for her?"

Peridot was about to tell her that gems didn't need to use the bathroom, but something in Vidalia's eyes told her not to mention it. So, reluctantly, she sat down next to her, her face set in a frown.

"So, you're Amethyst's friend," said Vidalia, "She talks about you a lot, you know?"

"She does?"

Vidalia nodded.

"Yep," she said, "Reckon she likes you a lot."

She smiled knowingly at Peridot, who merely stared blankly back, not quite understanding.

Vidalia chuckled and opened up the scrapbook to the first page. She slipped it over to Peridot, who studied it carefully.

It was a rough sketch - according to the date written on the corner, it was twelve years old. It was of two figures - one tall and wearing a leather jacket, the other short and round. They were leaning into each other, and for a moment, Peridot thought they were involved in some kind of staring contest.

"What kind of ritual is..."

She remembered episodes of Camp Pining Hearts, and it clicked.

"Oh. Oh."

She blushed, shooting back into the chair and away from the drawing.

"Am-am I supposed to be l-looking at that?" she exclaimed.

"Well, that's why I gave it to you," replied Vidalia.

Peridot's eyes widened and she began to stammer incoherently. Vidalia laughed.

"Don't worry," she said, "Everything in that book's perfectly clean."

"And w-why-why'd you want me to look at this?" asked Peridot. Her face felt very warm.

"Turn the page," replied Vidalia.

Peridot nervously did so.

The scrapbook was full of pictures of Amethyst. They were mostly drawings, some very rough; some were from years ago while others were very recent. Some were normal pictures of her doing normal things - eating, sleeping, doing things around town. Others were abstract, with strange wavy lines and peculiar shapes. Some were...decidedly risqué, and a few were very personal indeed. She felt like an intruder as she looked through these pictures; as though she was rifling through Vidalia's innermost thoughts. As she read the book, Vidalia said very little, usually just clarifying things about the art style.

She reached the end and closed the book, running a hand over the leather cover. She liked the feel.

"Why did you show me this?" she asked.

Vidalia shrugged.

"Well, what do you think of them?" she replied.

Peridot looked down at the book.

"They're...uh...really nice," she said, blushing, "You have a real talent for...bringing out how b-uh-aesthetically pleasing Amethyst is. But-but that doesn't answer my question! Why did you show me this?"

Vidalia smiled.

"I wanted to see if you see her with the same eyes I do," she replied.

"But that's impossible. I can only see through my own eyes."

"Figure of speech," said Vidalia, patting Peridot's shoulder.

They heard a door opening.

They turned to the door - Amethyst stood in the arch way, dark, dried lines running over her cheeks. Her eyes were red and puffy, and there was a hint of dampness on her nose. She looked at Peridot.

"Amethyst?" asked Peridot, "Are...are you okay?"

Amethyst smiled - an uneven, vulnerable smile, but a smile nonetheless.

"Yeah," she said, "I...I think I'm ready to go home now."

Peridot smiled back.

Sadie lay on the couch in the dark beach house, gazing at the ceiling. She was listening to her tablet, her music playing very quietly through her headphones. The faint glow of the tablet screen lit her small corner of the room a soothing green. She'd never been able to sleep in pitch darkness - she'd been afraid of the dark as a child, and these days she'd become used to a dim light shining as she slept.

She was tired, deeply tired. It had been a hard, hard few weeks, and her trials showed no sign of slowing down. But she was learning - and as she learned, her thoughts began to surface with newfound perspectives. Sometimes good, but sometimes...

She still couldn't face her mother. She was no longer as angry as she had been, but the grim sense of betrayal still stung. As for Clancy, she'd be quite fine if she never heard from him again. But she couldn't help but sympathise with them - their whole situation had been so new and so difficult. The death of Kay must have been painful for both of them - perhaps part of their dishonesty to her had been due to their own unwillingness to reopen those wounds.

"Dishonesty wasn't exactly new to her, Sadie thought with bitterness while she rolled over on the cushions. She had treated Lars with a rather cruel amount of falsehood herself when they had been "trapped" on the island with Steven, over a year ago now. At the time, she had just been so invested in the opportunity, to revel in a few days away from the world, to forget about the challenges of family and her job and friendships... Lars wasn't perfect, but he had at least deserved better than that.

More and more, she felt Clancy not exactly as someone she wanted to forgive, but... maybe someone worthy of forgiveness."

But there was another thing on her mind. Everyone had made it very clear that she was under no obligation to become a Crystal Gem herself. Originally, she herself had no intention of joining. But over the past week or so, she'd begun to give it serious thought.

Maybe it was a chance for her to make something good of this whole, ugly situation.

Ah, but that was for another day. For now, she lay on her back, closed her eyes and listened to the quiet sound of the music in her ears.

I'm learning to fly,

Around the clouds,

But what goes up,

Must come down...

[loyalisthounds-blog]

The Upper Echelons

It was something of an ominous room. 

A long table, dark wood, with the insignia of each echelon burnt into their place. Atop it, various devices, monitors, keypads. Despite its length, the table sat only five, the other chairs pushed to the edge of the room in neat fashion, an edge that gave an impressive view.

The Cabinet gathered at the centre of the City, in a room that watched it from every angle.

At the head of the table stood the Huntress. Eliza Jones, impeccable in form, who would always rather stand than sit. Hers was one she would not have chosen to fill, but with a noted absence as always someone had to step in.

“The broadcasts, then.” No sense with pre-amble. “I trust you’ve all read the current intel we have at hand.” A look to another at the table, an elderly gentlemen, strong-jawed with deep set eyes, nodding in turn as he lifted a hand. The monitors hummed to life, a projection of the building bombed in question, lines tracing through the floorplans. “The first incident. Suspect known as KILROY forced entry from the bottom floor” he began, slowly rising in turn. He flicked out a metallic pointer, using it to follow the lines, as though it made it more noteworthy. “Due to reallocating of military force, they were met with minimal force.” Photos slid into view from the scene, Loyalists knocked unconscious, Sniper units downed. “That, and they somehow managed to go undetected through most of the building.”

“Wasn’t that one of the broadcast centers highlighted at risk, Driscoll?” Asked one of the others. Unlike the head of Intel, her clothing was more civilian in nature, though still adorned with the regalia of their rank.

“....Yes...though it was on the lower end-” Driscoll began, before coughing. “In any case.” The floors cycled through until stopping a little above half way high, where the photos were dismissed for actual footage. It was distorted, obscured by smoke and shaky as anything, but a figure could be made out in the chaos, and a single glowing light. “It was on the ninth floor that they were finally detected. Guard forces attempted to apprehend the intruder, but found themselves overwhelmed by a singular individual.” His words dripped with disdain, gaze swung over to the Brigadier for a moment. She kept her trademark grin. “Met with unexpected force when already underpowered thanks to other’s intervention. They put up a valiant effort, considering the circumstances.” The words came easy, hands laid in her lap neatly.

“Nonetheless, they failed to stop the suspect. And so they reached the centre on the eleventh floor, and began their broadcast.”

“Not before the alarm was raised, and more men were sent to the area” the Brigadier countered. “One of which had noted a suspicious package on the suspect.”

“You were aware of the bomb threat?”

“Not until then. It was on the report I sent you, Driscoll.” She lifted her own copy, and then fanned it out to reveal other copies, which she handed about. “In case you lost track, however....” Driscoll grumbled under his breath, before turning back to the issue at hand. A flick of the wrist, and the details shrunk as another set of images arose. “Then, the second incident, one month later. Similar break and entry, though this time they seemed to gain access from part ways up the building.” A pause. “CCTV caught sight of a smaller detonation, and smoke obscured their entry, but inspection after the fact made it evident it was KILROY’s point of entry.”

“Surely CCTV should have noticed their entry into a building adjacent to a broadcast centre?” Eliza asked, tone biting. Driscoll cleared his throat.

“That falls under the remit of Infrastructure-” began, before the civilian-clad woman tsked.

“Keen to throw me under?” uttered with annoyance, before she slid a small card into the projection device.

A myriad of screens lit up about the current focus, cameras from the screens showing all angles on the day. “We’ve reviewed all the footage. The building in question is housing, home to approximately two hundred and fifty seven legal tenants, and a suspected seventy-three illegal. None of which were seen in that KILROY’s odd getup entering or leaving” she clarified, both hands pushed against the table.

Driscoll raised a brow, a hint of amusement dancing across his features before he brought himself back in line. “Yes, thank you. In any case, the scene was much the same on inspection, though we did start to have some interesting accounts from those injured.” His eyes hovered back to the Brigadier, briefly sharp to Joker besides.

The Brigadier simply smiled wider. “Yes, indeed. I went and talked to them each personally, to ensure that what was said was nothing but the truth.” Another set of papers was produced, handed to Joker to pass along. “A copy, for each of your records, but eyewitness testimony seems to show an odd quirk to our suspect’s means. Some were brought down via what they saw as modified Sniper unit fire, others were, ahem…” She picked up her own copy to read verbatim, “smashed about roughly with a shield until they lost consciousness.”

“So this KILROY’s a resourceful sort” another commented, a younger man with red hair and questioning eyes, sitting comfortably. “Does this mean they’re responsible for the missing shipments in the last months?” “Well, there’s certainly a high chance of that, yes” The Brigadier replied warmly, “considering the small scale of the thefts.” The papers were then tapped against the table. “But back to the point. Some were engaged differently, to quote, “A blur of green paint and red lights moved faster than we could fire.” “ She raised a brow. “Some even said the techniques mirrored some we train our own in.”

“Are you saying there’s a chance this KILROY is a traitor?” Eliza asked sharply. The Brigadier held back a snort.

“Surely that’s a given considering their actions?” she teased, earning an ireful look she paid no mind to. “But, in the context you mean, doubtful. Oh, there’s a chance it’s a late stage reject from the programme, but I highly doubt it’s actually one of our own. Why would they go out in our colours, and be so overt?” A small chuckle. “That would be foolish.”

Eliza gave the Brigadier a sidelong glance, clearly disapproving of her sense of humour, but found no other grounds for refute. “So, the second was much like the first. But what of the third?” Once more, Driscoll flicked his wrist, and all the pertinent information flew to the side as the latest incident flew into sight. The images taken from this one seemed much more high impact, the broadcast station heavily armoured. “Three weeks ago, one of the more central stations was broken into. Unlike the prior times, this entry was a lot quieter.” He paused, bringing up images that highlighted their entry point. “They entered through the ventilation, and only engaged those they had to.” He sighed. “Considering we were unable to discern their identity before, there’s a chance that several civilians spotted about the area could be the suspect in disguise. And due to the nature of our operations, it’s become common knowledge that such broadcast relays are being...bolstered, security-wise.”

“Mmmm, and yet they found a way to weasel in regardless” The Brigadier murmured, face part-obscured by a gloved hand, a smirk visible only to Joker. “Most unfortunate. Especially as they managed more than simple audio this time.”

Joker adjusted his own papers in front of his face and returned the grin. The only good part of these meetings was watching Driscoll sweat. Driscoll gave a grunting nod, and with another click the image was isolated. A blurry snapshot of an alleyway, a message written against the wall.

Albert the kid is ghosting.

Everyone glanced it again, before looking to Eliza. She was not amused. Her arms crossed, chin raised, eyes glaring bloody murder. Driscoll’s gaze dropped, and slowly all else’s did the same. Sans the Brigadier, of course. That obscured smile was now gone, her own eyes locked to that image.

“The kid is ghosting…” A frown grew. “Interesting choice of words.” “How is security for the broadcast centres at the moment?” Eliza asked, words biting. The Brigadier sighed. “Each now has a standing platoon at the ready, with Sniper units located about and within the facilities. They have orders to shoot on sight, as requested, but will attempt capture if viable.” “Make sure they prioritise neutralisation” was Eliza’s response to that. The Brigadier’s hand clenched, but she nodded. Then, to Joker. “As for the units. I’ll assume these are the most recently maintained ones we have, correct?”

Joker nodded, his gaze firmly on the Huntress. “Of course ma’am.” He ignored the rest of the room. He knew what they thought about him. And he didn’t care.

“I have the updated design specs here…” he said, passing another report along.

Eliza ignored it. She then looked to the lady in charge of Infrastructure, “And security camera coverage?” “All screens in the areas have already been updated to the swivelling mounts, as requested six months prior” she replied coolly, “with additional CCTV being put into place to supplement blind spots. This should be finalised within the week.” “You have two days.” “...With respect, that-” “Two days, Meridian.” The infrastructure Officer blinked, and then nodded. “Two days, then, though testing will need to occur afterwards.” “Good. I expect the report in four days.” “...Very well.” Eliza stood then, eyeing each in turn before her gaze fell heavy on Driscoll. “Have your men check every possible communication route this traitor could be using. See if we can figure out if anyone is feeding intel from the inside. If you do…” A glance to the Brigadier. “Have them delivered for questioning.” “But of course, Ma’am.”

“If anything else occurs, update me immediately. Until then.” She turned about, walking away. “Dismissed.” The others sat at that table until she had left, before Meridian stood. “Well. I’ll have to relay the rush order to the engineers, so unless anyone else has need of me I’ll be off right away.” A harsh glare to Driscoll, one the older man met in equal measure before slowly rising himself. “Yes yes, we’re all quite busy. I’ll run over the footage again, see if we can’t get a better lock on this KILROY’s features.” “Please, do your job Driscoll” The Brigadier mused, staring still at that image. “We’d all be thankful for it.” “Mind your tongue.” “Mmm? I’m sorry, what was that?” Driscoll huffed, his face turning read with annoyance as her eyes locked to him, that grin returned wide and threatening. He swallowed his pride, and stormed off, much to Meridian’s amusement. “Well, i’m glad one of us can make him act like that” she chuckled, raising a hand as she too left. “Let me know if I can assist, Brigadier. My regards to your men.” “Oh, and quite the same for you, Ma’am!” replied cheerily, as the red-haired man rose too, giving a respectful nod. Soon, it was only she and Joker left in that room, and she slumped back some in that seat.

“Quite the mess, isn’t it? She didn’t even stay to consider anything but the basic reports.”

Joker rolled his eyes and put his feet on the table. “I mean, did we expect anything else?” He grabbed his ‘report’ and tossed it to her. “This was just a bunch of junk. I didn’t even bring the real specs in here.” The Brigadier took the paper in hand, inspecting it. A single brow slowly raised, and once she glanced to the door she allowed her grin to unfurl in full display. “My my. How brazen….And  yet, I can’t find myself wishing to raise a concern” spoken in heavily amused tone.

“I mean, if anyone would take the suggestions to upgrade the old design….” he muttered. “What’s it been, twenty plus years since this design hit the streets? Tech improves! We could be doing so much more but…” he threw a hand at the door. “You see how this goes.”

“Quite” she agreed, folding the paper neatly in half and tucking it under her arm. The smile remained, though her gaze returned to that projection. “Interesting choice, isn’t it? Of all the things to broadcast. One can’t help but wonder the message.”

Joker followed her gaze. “They’re being inflammatory. That’s been their entire M.O. I wouldn’t read too much into it.” He shrugged.

“Hm. You’re likely right” she murmured, giving it one last look over before disabling the console. The screens each flickered off in turn as she rose, breathing in. “Well. Mayhap if this escalates further we can get them to stop being stubborn, hmm?” commented as she walked towards the door herself.

Joker shrugged, pulling out a small metal flask and taking a sip from it. “Maybe. I mean, I already have a prototype all ready to go but…” he laughed. “Maybe someday we’ll actually get to make this damn city better.”

“That is the end goal, no?” she commented with a sigh, the room going dark as they left.

[shsummertimefest-blog]

Best Laid Plans

Enjoy, @shirmir!

“Seriously Izzy, there is nothing going on out here…” Alec grumbled as he trudged down the road, hands firmly in his pockets.

“Magnus is good for you, big brother. I mean who'd have thought Alexander Lightwood would be trying to get out of patrolling early to go see his boyfriend….” She laughed as she nudged him in the side.

“I'm not...that's not..” strictly speaking Izzy was absolutely spot on. Six months ago Alec had moved into the loft with Magnus, and for possibly the first time in his life, he actually looked forward to going home.

The image of his boyfriend curled up on the sofa, glass of wine in hand, lips curving slightly in amusement as he read flashed in front of his eyes and the thought of joining him pulled at him like a magnet.

“Don't worry, your secret’s safe with me.” Izzy winked.

It was ridiculous really, it was still early in the evening and the streets were full of late night shoppers, so realistically the chances of any demons showing up were slim at best. Alec had made sure that he was on the early patrol for once. Although he was Head of the Institute he studiously avoided taking advantage of his position, but even he had got fed up with getting home just before dawn. Worse still, for the last few weeks Magnus had been so busy that they'd barely had any real time together, in fact, if they didn't live together Alec seriously doubted they'd have seen each other at all.

Despite it all, Alec had never been happier in his life. There was absolutely no doubt in his mind that Magnus was the best thing that had ever happened to him and he was determined to show him exactly what he meant to him. All he had to do was work out how.

“That wasn't what I meant and you know it. I meant why are we patrolling the shopping district and not, oh I don't know, somewhere we might actually find demon activity..?” Alec asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as Izzy’s eyes flitted to yet another brightly lit shop window.

“I told you, I had a tip..” Izzy muttered, distracted by the large window display in front of her.

“Really?” there was no mistaking the frustration in Alecs voice now.

“Fine, ok no I didn't. Happy now?” Ignoring Alec rolling his eyes, she continued. “Look we both know things are quiet at the moment so I just figured it was a good excuse for a shopping trip. C’mon Alec, you could do with some new clothes, I mean imagine the look on Magnus’ face if he saw you in something other than, well, that.”

Izzy looked him up and down, shaking her head fondly.

“Yeah well, forgive me for wearing work gear when I thought we were actually going to patrol.” Alec muttered.

“Ooh look at that..” Izzy darted ahead, stopping outside a jeweller’s window with big sale banners all over it.

“Yeah, like you need more jewellery.”

“I don't need, big brother, I just want…” Izzy winked and grinned before darting inside, giving Alec little choice but to follow her.

“Good evening, how can I help you? Perhaps a gift for your lovely girlfriend..” The man behind the counter was sharply dressed in a navy suit and smiled warmly.

“Ugh no ...that's my brother..” Both Izzy and Alec wrinkled their noses in disgust. Alec seriously regretted not activating his glamour rune.

“Oh I'm sorry, my mistake. Now you mention it, the resemblance is uncanny.” The salesman kept his smile fixed on his face, which Alec found intensely annoying, and

he had to fight the urge to roll his eyes.

Seeing his sister's eyes dancing with excitement, he waved her on with a sigh of frustration.

Within what felt like seconds, Izzy, unsurprisingly, had the salesman wrapped around her little finger and multiple trays of bracelets and rings were being placed on the counter for her to look at.

Sensing that he was in for a long wait his attention began to wander and he let his eyes scan across the contents of the shop. When he looked back on that moment later, he couldn't really say what it was, but something seemed to draw him towards a cabinet on the other side of the room.

Once he saw it, he couldn't drag his eyes away. The stone in the centre of the ring was mesmerising, glittering in shades of green and gold that were the exact colour of Magnus’ cat eyes. Shimmering diamonds surrounded the stone and caught the light beautifully, giving off thousands of rainbow reflections, and the heavy gold band was decorated with swirls.

“Oh Alec.” He'd been so absorbed that he hadn't noticed his sister approach and he glanced down to see her smiling happily at him.

“Ah, an excellent choice, it's quite the beauty.” The mundane salesman, clearly sensing the potential for an impulse purchase, had come over as well. “Such an exquisite stone and very rare.”

“I've never seen anything like it.” Alec narrowed his left eye, looking at the man.

His comment was in all likelihood a mistake he thought as the man took the opportunity to explain in great detail about how the stone, sphene or titanite as it was sometimes called, was very rare and where exactly it was found.

“Are you thinking….?” Izzy whispered as Alec turned his attention back to the ring.

If he was honest, he wanted nothing more than to marry Magnus, he'd often thought of it but the only thing that stopped him from asking was the concern that maybe it wasn't what Magnus wanted. His boyfriend had been alive for centuries and had never married anyone, maybe that meant it wasn't something he had any interest in doing, and the last thing Alec wanted was to ruin what they had.

Turning back to the cabinet, he looked at the ring again. It was perfect, so perfect it felt like a sign.

“Would you like to look at it?” The man asked, retrieving a large group of keys and unlocking the sliding glass doors.

Alec just nodded, trying his best to ignore Izzy squeaking excitedly beside him.

“Did you want to try it on?” The salesman asked.

“Um no, it's not for me..” Alec dipped his head slightly, watching with fascination how the ring caught the light.

“He's gonna propose to his boyfriend.” Izzy stated proudly.

“In that case, sir, this ring is perfect. No man could possibly say no to this.” The mundane took the ring out of the cabinet and placed it temptingly on Alec's palm.

“Stop overthinking Alec..” Izzy chided gently.

“I'm not..” Except of course, he was. He chewed gently on his lip as he thought things through. Did he want to marry Magnus? Of course. When he'd asked Magnus to host Max’s rune party he'd told him it was to show Maryse that what they had wasn't going away and what better way to prove that point than to stand up in front of everyone and promise to love Magnus forever? Yes that was what he wanted, possibly more than anything he'd ever wanted in his life before.

Staring down at the ring, the ever present chatter in his brain was replaced by a quiet certainty. For once, Alec Lightwood was going to be impulsive.

Alec’s newfound certainty lasted for about half an hour, enough time to buy the ring, no easy task with Izzy hugging him happily throughout, and accept her offer of filling in the patrol reports for him so he could get back to Magnus.

It was only as he got closer to the loft that the doubts started to resurface. Putting his hand in his pocket he stroked the velvet ring box, hoping to regain the feeling he'd had before, when it dawned on him that he’d have to actually hide it. There was no doubt that where it was Magnus would find it and one thing he was sure of was that if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right.

Pausing for a second, he swung his quiver off his shoulder and hastily shoved the box inside.

When he arrived home Magnus was still lounging on the sofa and, as ever, the sight of him took his breath away. Seeing the all powerful High Warlock of Brooklyn relaxed and happy was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing in the whole world, and the thought that maybe one day he could call this amazing man his husband made his heart flutter.

“Alexander, you're home early.” Magnus looked up and smiled.

“Early patrol. I thought we could have an evening together…” Alec tried to sound casual as he placed his bow and quiver by the door but Magnus obviously noticed something was amiss.

“You Ok, darling?” He asked, brows slightly furrowed.

“Umm yeah, Izzy’s doing the reports and..” Alec sat down on the sofa next to Magnus.

“Ah, and you're worried that your darling sister may not be as thorough..” Magnus sat up and grinned wickedly.

“No..” Alec pouted, glad to have changed the topic. Toeing off his boots, he relaxed back.

“Honestly darling, where's the fun in being Head of the Institute if you can't delegate..?” Magnus rose up onto his knees, holding Alec's gaze as he slowly straddled his lap. “Now, however can we get that 'all-work-and-no-play' mind of yours to relax…”

Alec smiled lopsidedly as his hand reached forward instinctively to hold his boyfriend's hips.

“Actually, I might have a few ideas..” He murmured.

“Do you now?” Magnus chuckled, eyebrow raised.

“Uh-huh..” Alec leant forward to catch his lips but Magnus leaned back slightly, making him growl in frustration.

“So I have you to myself tonight then.” He smiled.

“Yes..”

“Well in that case..” Magnus threw himself forward, smashing their lips together and all of Alec’s doubts disappeared, replaced with the all embracing feeling of Magnus in his arms.

It'd been a struggle to leave the loft this morning and had it not been for Magnus having an early appointment with an important client, Alec genuinely wasn't sure that he’d have made it in at all, responsibilities or not.

They’d both taken full advantage of finally having time alone and spent the evening wrapped up in each other's arms. For once, Alec hadn't complained about Magnus summoning dinner because the thought of leaving the cocoon of happiness they'd created in just a few short hours was beyond contemplation.

Sadly, the real world had come back this morning, and despite Alec’s best efforts to tempt his boyfriend to cancel everything and simply stay as they were, Magnus had managed to just about resist.

Alec sat at his desk in front of a mound of paperwork but, despite the overwhelming workload, he couldn't get the smile off his face. Opening the desk drawer he took out the little velvet box and opened it, gazing at the ring again, something he’d done more than a few times since he’d retrieved it from his quiver that morning. There was something entrancing about watching the light catch the facets on the ring and each colour that showed up brought with it an image of Magnus, smiling, laughing, filled with passion or just gazing contentedly as they cuddled, limbs entangled.

“So let's see it then..” Alec’s head snapped up to see Jace standing in front of the desk, grinning at him. He’d been so caught up in his daydream he hadn't even noticed his parabatai enter the room.

Jace threw himself into the chair in front of the desk and grabbed the ring box, examining its contents closely as he stretched his legs and put his feet up on the desk.

With a huff of irritation, Alec stood up and walked round to knock Jace's feet on to the floor.

“He’s gonna love it, buddy.” Jace smiled back, completely nonplussed as usual.

“Yeah, thanks..” Alec reached a palm out, beckoning Jace to give the ring back.

“Seriously, how can you be in a bad mood when you’re getting engaged?” Jace shrugged as he handed the box back.

“I'm not, and this may have escaped your notice, but this is still my office you know..” Having the ring back in his hand made Alec feel a little more settled.

“So..how're you gonna do it then, ‘cos if you need a hand Iz and I have got some great ideas…” As usual, his brother largely ignored Alec’s words and continued with what he wanted to talk about.

“I hadn't thought..” Leaning back against the desk, Alec ran his hand through his hair.

“Seriously?” Jace eyed him carefully. “Oh I get it..”

“What?”

“You're overthinking, knew it..” Jace folded his arms, a smug look on his face.

“No I'm not.” Jace raised an eyebrow and Alec just shook his head exasperated. “Ok maybe a little. I just...I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?”

“Are you kidding me? Seriously buddy, you two are so sickening together. I mean I'm your parabatai and trust me, sometimes what I get through this bad boy..” Jace tapped the rune on his hip and Alec winced at the thought. “Nah, not like that. By the angel, why does everyone think that? I mean sickeningly happy, is all. Magnus adores you and he’s totally gonna say yes..”

“You think..?” Alec chewed his lip nervously.

“I know it. Trust me.” Jace stood up. “Oh and just so you know, I'm going to be your best man, so your bachelor party is gonna be epic..”

“Thanks...I think..” Alec rolled his eyes as Jace came to stand by him.

“No problem. You deserve this, buddy.” Jace grinned as he shoulder bumped Alec. “And don't forget, Iz and I are happy to help…”

“Thanks, I'm good..” Alec cut Jace off, dreading what ridiculous plan his siblings would come up with.

“Well the offer’s there. Anyway, here’s some reports for you…” Jace nodded to the files he’d added to Alec’s ever growing pile. “Should keep you busy for a while..”

“Gee thanks..” Alec groaned as Jace winked and left him to it.

Reluctantly Alec resumed his position behind his desk and tried to focus back on his work. After a few minutes he gave up and reached for his phone and fired off a quick text.

I know you're really busy but I don't suppose you’ve got a second? I could do with your help.

Alec put the phone back on the desk, not expecting a reply for some time and was somewhat surprised when he received one pretty much straight away.

Ok, sounds interesting, if you can meet me at work we could catch up over lunch.

That would be great, if you're sure that’s ok.

Alec it’s fine, my lunch break is 1. See you then.

See you then!

Alec smiled as he put his phone back down.

Alec sat down in the corner of the cafeteria, nursing a cup of coffee as he watched the entrance. He’d managed to duck out of the Institute with relative ease and had arrived really early. All around him people bustled by as he tried to look as unobtrusive as possible.

The cafeteria was full of the lunchtime crowd and pretty much all of it’s sterile plastic tables were occupied with groups of people chatting animatedly. The room was impeccably tidy, all clean lines decorated in a brilliant white which someone had tried to cheer up with a brightly coloured mural on one wall.

Reaching into his pocket, Alec pulled out the ring box again. On impulse he'd brought it with him, finding it strangely difficult to leave it behind.

“I wouldn't drink that if I were you..” Alec looked up to see Cat smiling down at him, indicating the coffee, and hastily he grabbed the box to shove it back in his pocket.

Cat looked every inch the professional nurse, her hair scraped back neatly, wearing bright blue scrubs with her name badge pinned to her chest and a stethoscope around her neck.

“Yeah already made that mistake.” Alec smiled nervously, apparently it wasn't just his nerves that made the coffee taste largely of burnt water.

“Ah hospital food. If you aren't sick before, you surely will be after.” Cat smiled kindly as she sat down at the table and Alec instantly felt himself relax.

“So I'm taking it that you wanted to see me because of what you just tried to hide in your pocket..” Catarina teased lightly as she rested her elbows on the table.

“You saw that.” Alec blushed despite himself. He really should've known better than to try and hide anything from Cat. Over the years Magnus and he had been together he'd got to know the warlock really well, and one thing he knew for sure was Catarina Loss was sharp as a tack.

“It's ok, we can just talk first, if you like. Madzie says hi by the way, she can't wait to see Uncle Alec and Uncle Magnus again, something about a new spell she's learnt..” Catarina easily steered the conversation into familiar territory, giving Alec the perfect excuse to avoid things until he was ready.

Often times when he was hanging out with Cat and her adopted daughter Madzie, Alec wondered how he'd ever been foolish enough to believe the lies the Clave drummed into them about downworlders. Cat was genuinely one of the kindest people he'd ever met, and quite frankly, a better person than almost all the nephilim he knew. It was entirely typical for her to go out of her way to make him feel relaxed enough to talk about what he really wanted.

“She's a great kid, make sure you give her a hug from me. Look, I know you never have much time and…” Alec took a deep breath.

“Alec, it's fine…”

“Ok, so here's the thing. I think I might of done something stupid, or maybe not. I don't know..” Looking up, Alec saw Cat nod in encouragement.

“Ok, so you know me, I plan everything, and then last night I was on patrol and I don't know why but, well I did something on impulse and now I'm thinking....” Alec tapped his fingers on the table nervously. Why was this so hard? Either way he knew Cat would be honest with him, after all she knew Magnus better than anyone so she was the perfect person to tell him if he was about to make a mistake.

“Alec, it's ok.” Catarina reached across the table, hesitating for a second to check it was ok, before placing her hand over his. “Anyway, Magnus is more than impulsive enough for both of us. I'm sure you haven't done anything as out there as he has, so it's fine.”

Alec smiled lopsidedly and nodded his head before reaching, somewhat reluctantly into his pocket and pulling out the box, placing it almost reverentially on the table. Catarina let go of his hand and sat back a little, eyebrows raised as she looked at the box intently.

“So…” Alec muttered as he toyed with the box nervously.

“May I see?” Cat asked, glancing up at Alec who nodded and carefully opened the box, turning it round so she could see the contents. “Oh Alec…”

“It's too much, isn't it….?” Alec’s shoulders slumped, dreading the answer.

“It’s perfect honey, absolutely perfect.” Cat’s expression morphed into a broad grin as she examined the ring. “So…?”

“Well, it’s just, well we’ve never talked about marriage you know, and Magnus, he’s been alive for centuries and he’s never...I mean, that must mean something right…” Alec stopped short as Catarina began to laugh.

“I'm sorry, that was wrong of me. You really have no clue do you?” Alec looked warily back at her, one eye slightly closed. “I've known Magnus Bane for longer than I care to mention and one thing I can tell you is I’ve never known him love someone the way he loves you.”

“Honestly.” Alec smiled tentatively back.

“Honestly. It’s not that he never got married because he didn't want to, it's more he never met anyone who was in any way worthy of him, until you. Seriously he had the worst taste, just appalling.” Cat shook her head affectionately as she reminisced. “He’d either hold himself back or choose people who’d just move on. I think that was the appeal with Camille, that she was immortal, but look how well that turned out.”

Cat looked up, as if checking Alec was still ok.

“Then you came along. I'm not going to lie, when he first told me I thought he was mad, I mean a shadowhunter of all things, and a Lightwood at that. No offence.” Cat shrugged apologetically.

“None taken.” Alec reassured her.

“Seriously Alec, don't doubt that Magnus would want nothing more than to marry you. Knowing him, he’s just afraid to ask himself. That man still doesn't believe he’s worth staying with. So the only question is, do you want to marry him? Really and truly?” Cat fixed him with a probing look and Alec didn't hesitate, even for a millisecond.

“More than anything.”

“That’s great. Ok, so then the only thing we need to talk about is how you’re going to do this. I think we both agree our boy deserves the best proposal ever. So time to get planning.” Catarina beamed at him.

“Yeah, let’s do that..” Alec agreed, with a smile that lit up his face.

Alec had had a plan. A really, really good plan, but somehow he’d ended up here.

Glancing up he saw his sister's whip cut through a swathe of demons on the other side of the warehouse, before firing arrows into the melee to take down another lot that were trying to creep up behind her.

“Nicely done, darling.” Magnus grinned as he fired bright orbs of red magic into the swarm across the room.

Alec barely had time to respond, only smiling lopsidedly as the onslaught continued.

Only this morning he’d thought he had everything covered, what with Magnus’ favourite restaurant in Paris booked, and Cat on standby to create a portal. Even Jace and Izzy knew he was taking the evening off and not to contact him unless the world was ending. As it turned out, it pretty much was. Again.

“Alec..” Jace shouted from the far side of the room as a pair of winged demons started circling, talons out ready to attack.

With a sigh of exasperation, Alec dispatched them rapidly with Jace giving him a wink and a smile in approval. Typically, his parabatai seemed to be thoroughly enjoying himself, slashing his way through the hoards with his seraph blade flashing, Clary following closely behind.

Before turning his attention back to the room, Alec couldn't resist surreptitiously running his hand over his pocket, relaxing a little as he felt the small box was still there.

As he felt Magnus move behind him, the distinctive smell of burnt sugar that came from his magic filling his nostrils, Alec shook off his thoughts and concentrated on the battle.

“Did I mention how attractive you are in action sweetheart?” Magnus murmured.

“I could say exactly the same.” Alec chuckled as he turned his head to watch the way his boyfriend's body flowed as he took down a group of Eidolons.

“Why thank you, Alexander.” Magnus winked before turning his full attention back to the fight.

There were still a large amount of demons left but their numbers did seem to be dwindling, giving Alec a small amount of hope that his plans weren't entirely ruined just yet.

Swiftly, Alec took down a group of shax demons that were approaching Clary and Jace, their bodies disintegrating into orange dust instantly. Gritting his teeth in determination he reached for another arrow, his movements automatic after all these years.

He’d actually got as far as picking up Magnus and walking towards Prospect Park where he’d arranged to meet Cat, when the call had come in. For a split second he’d considered ignoring it, but having stressed to Jace how important the evening was, he knew a phone call could only be bad news.

With the sounds of screaming in the background, Jace had hurriedly informed him about how a group of teenage mundanes had somehow managed to accidentally open a portal to a demon dimension. By the time he and Magnus had arrived all hell had broken out, almost literally, and despite Magnus rapidly closing down the portal, a significant number of the dimension’s residents had already escaped through.

“I have to say darling, when you said you had a special evening planned, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind..” Magnus laughed over his shoulder.

“Typical mundanes, messing with things they don't understand.” Alec grumbled, his eyes flitting over to a group of four teenagers cowering behind Jace and Clary.

“Oh they're just children..” Magnus was obviously more forgiving than him.

“There’s some truth to the idea..” Swerving, Alec took down a small group of ravener demons. “That human beings should have a modicum of common sense.”

Alec tried hard to not be distracted by Magnus’ laugh. Squinting slightly, he took aim again, the tide now well and truly turning in their direction. All they needed to do was finish off the stragglers and then, maybe, the evening wouldn't be a complete washout.

Several minutes of concerted effort from all of them and the numbers were down to single figures and Alec had started to relax, which naturally turned out to be an error in judgment.

As he turned to smile at Magnus with relief at a job well done, a shax demon broke out from behind the crates next to him and lunged. With lightening reflexes Alec grabbed an arrow and plunged it into the creature's body, watching it explode in front of him but not before the demon lashed out at him with it’s claws. Alec ducked out of reach in the nick of time but the demon managed to catch his pocket, tearing it apart.

It was almost in slow motion that Alec saw the velvet box fly out and skid across the floor, landing by a pile of wooden pallets lying haphazardly beside him.

“Dammit..” Alec dived after the ring, desperately scrambling to retrieve it before anyone, or more specifically Magnus, noticed.

“Alexander.” Magnus called after him just as Alec’s fingers touched the box. “Are you hurt? Let me help you.”

Grabbing the box, he tried to hide it behind himself before turning to see his boyfriend gazing down at him, eyes full of concern.

“I'm fine..” Alec felt himself flush as he desperately tried to hide the ring. He wasn't a romantic by nature but even he knew that proposing to Magnus in a disused warehouse while covered in ichor was most definitely not the done thing.

“Darling, let me see..” Magnus went to move towards him and instinctively Alec flinched away. Seeing the look of hurt in the warlock's eyes, he instantly sat up on his knees and reached to reassure him.

“Magnus, no...I didn't mean…” Alec pleaded, completely oblivious to the sound of the last few demons meeting their ends.

“Alec...what’s that in your hand?” Magnus was staring intently at the little box which Alec had completely forgotten about in his haste to comfort his boyfriend.

“Nothing...it's nothing…” Jerking his hand back, he tried to shove the box back in his pocket only to remember it was torn to shreds.

“Alexander….” Magnus looked at him, eyes narrowed.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see Izzy bouncing towards them, grinning like a Cheshire Cat, and Alec knew there was no way of keeping his secret. Sighing deeply, he reluctantly brought his hand forward, and uncurling his fingers, revealed the box.

“See the thing is, this wasn't how it was supposed to go tonight. I mean, I even arranged for Cat to portal us to Paris..” Alec began, as Magnus gasped, taking a small step back as the realisation dawned on him.

“And I booked your favourite restaurant, you know the one by the Seine..” Alec continued.

“You did that, for me…” Magnus held his hand to his mouth and gazed at him with amazement.

“Of course I did. I love you, Magnus..” Alec smiled up lopsidedly and slowly raised himself onto one knee, “but I guess the surprise has been ruined so…”

Alec shrugged apologetically, and for once, Magnus seemed lost for words.

“So I guess, here goes.” He opened the box and revealed the ring. “I know it's not romantic, and I didn't really imagine proposing like this, but maybe after all, this is more our style. So, Magnus Bane, would you do me the honour of marrying me, Alec Lightwood?”

Before Magnus had a chance to answer, there was a flurry of movement behind him and the last of the shax demons emerged. Reaching for his blade, Alec was about to spring forward, but without even turning Magnus flicked his wrist, dispatching the demon with a burst of magic.

“Rude! Seriously, I've just got engaged…” Magnus turned his head and frowned at the pile of dust that was all that was left of the creature.

“Hey Magnus, you kind of have to say yes yet..” Izzy catcalled.

“Oh my mistake, sorry darling, got distracted there.” Magnus dropped to his knees facing Alec. “Yes, of course yes. Alexander Lightwood, I, Magnus Bane would love nothing more than to marry you..”

“You will?” Alec looked at him, almost in disbelief, as Magnus extended his left hand.

With shaking fingers, Alec took the ring and slid it onto Magnus’ ring finger, somehow unsurprised that it fit perfectly.

“Alec, I love you so very much. Marrying you would make me happier than I ever thought possible.” Magnus seemed to glow with joy as he stared back at him and everything else just faded away. There was no warehouse, no ichor, no sulphur-like demon smell. The only thing that mattered was right in front of him.

Instinctively, Alec reached a hand up to caress Magnus’ jaw and pulled him close, breathing in the scent of him, of sandalwood and burnt sugar and so much more. The scent of home, of being exactly where you belong.

When their lips finally met, it was as if the world was exactly as it should be, Magnus and Alexander bound together and he couldn't get enough.

When they finally parted, resting their foreheads together, Alec couldn't stop smiling. Even when Jace came up and patted his shoulder or when everyone crowded round to look at the ring and offer their congratulations, because Alec only had eyes for Magnus, the man he was going to marry.

“Well, lovely as this all is. I do believe it's high time I went and celebrated with my fiancé” Magnus waved everyone away and grabbed Alec’s hand, helping him to his feet.

“Yeah well, it's too late for the restaurant, we've kinda missed the reservation.” Alec replied sheepishly.

“Hmmm, if only I had, oh I don't know, a flat in Paris or something like that.” Magnus winked smiling broadly.

“Oh...oh….yeah ok, let's go…” Alec grinned back before grabbing Magnus’ hand and dragging him out of the warehouse, both of them giggling like teenagers despite the whoops and cheers behind them.

“I love you, Magnus..” Alec gasped happily as they ran off.

“I love you too, Alexander..” Magnus stopped and waved a hand to raise a portal, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

With a joyous laugh, Alec grabbed him by the waist and spun the pair of them off towards their own private celebration, and most importantly, to the start of their future together.

[writing-royza]

Two Hundred and Twenty - “Murderer”, 2.0

A/N: Happy Holiday Monday, everyone! So it’s pretty much a guarantee now that if I go away for the weekend, I will not have my proper files with me, and I am very sorry for that. I was also slightly distracted by my cat having his neutering surgery and being absolutely HILARIOUS while he was on drugs so that was also a thing.

I do not own FMA.

Two Hundred and Twenty - “Murderer”, 3.0

He didn’t like the way she sat on the couch. Her elbows were braced on her knees, her hands folded together and pressed to her lips, eyes staring straight ahead yet seeing nothing. Tension hovered in every muscle in that deceptively slender frame, and Roy wished there was something he could do to take it away.

“I mean,” he said at last, “can we really be sure it’s him?”

On the coffee table in front of her were six photographs, arrayed neatly in a double arc. Her face, his, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, even Falman on a snowy backdrop…. All candid, all with bull’s-eyes in red marker centred on their faces. On her photo, written in the same red marker, were the words “I’M BACK.”

Riza let out a breath through her nose, the air hissing against her hands. “Unless you want to entertain the idea of a vengeful copycat? I think we have to believe he’s back.” She sat straight, shaking her head. “I botched things in taking down Lewis Graft last time. I don’t know that we can afford to make the same mistake again.”

“Seeing as how this time it appears to be personal, I think you’re right.” Stepping forward, he crouched in front of her, smiling warmly. “On the plus side, you’re too smart to let him get to you again. And once my girl has a gun in her hand, it’s the other guy that needs to watch himself.”

That drew a faint smile, but not enough to put him at ease. “Where do you suggest we start?” She hesitated, shifting uncomfortably. “Because…I might have an idea on that… but I doubt you’re going to like it.”

———————-

Victory Park was a popular spot on weekends, especially this time of year. Citizens from all over the city came out to soak up the sun, to let their children play on jungle gyms, swings, and in sandboxes, or to picnic on the rolling spreads of soft grass. Sitting here on the bench, Riza watched every movement she could without seeming obvious, wishing she could be half as carefree as they all seemed to be.

Periodically, she would take the small stack of photographs from the envelope on her lap, and leaf through them one by one. Crime scene photos, from the last run-in with Graft, that he had demanded and ultimately left without. If he wanted them, he would have to come get them.

“Here’s hoping he got the message,” Fuery said quietly through the tiny earpiece. Riza wore her hair loose today, even though she was in full uniform, the blonde strands combed to the side to conceal it.  “You’re really sure he wants the photos badly enough to take the risk?”

“He’s an attention-seeker,” Roy’s voice came, as glacially calm as Riza had ever heard him. She took it as both a good sign and a warning flag; his temper could still rise to the top if this didn’t go smoothly. “He’ll have been watching the papers, waiting for us to go to the police or warn the public. A personals ad wouldn’t escape his attention; we didn’t code it particularly well. Just keep an eye out for —“

“Got him.” Havoc. “North entrance. He’s got a nice, fancy suit, fedora, even picked up a cane for style.” His tone turned grim. “No saying that’s his only weapon. Watch yourself, Hawkeye.”

For the next few minutes, she kept her gaze on the nearest group of playing children, letting their innocence and shrieks of laughter calm her, distract her from what she was about to do. If only she could warn them, tell them to go play someplace safer… but no. This had to look as real and innocent as possible. Hopefully, the danger would pass quickly, without incident….

A man stopped beside her bench, looking out toward the playground. “The innocence of youth,” he mused aloud, in a voice that sent an involuntary chill down her spine with its familiarity. “You and I outgrew that far too early, Lieutenant. At least these young ones can still hold onto it.”

“I find it hard to believe you were ever innocent.” She turned her head to look at him, stone-faced. “The crimes you’ve committed speak to a damaged psyche that must reach all the way back to childhood.”

Graft chuckled at that, folding both hands on the head of his cane. “Ah, but you’re not entirely whole yourself, my dear. You’ve been damaged too. Does this mean you’ll become like me?” He looked her way, humour glinting in his eyes. “Something in my ‘psyche’ tells me you would make a rather spectacular partner in crime. What with your aim, and all.”

Riza allowed herself a slight smile. “I already have a partner, thank you. He’s half again the man you are, and twice as dangerous.” She crossed one leg over the other, setting the envelope of photos to one side. “Hence why I’m here alone, and not concerned in the slightest.”

“Alone with me again? You’re awfully trusting, Lieutenant.” His eyes went to the envelope, her hand resting on top of it, then back to her. “What do you have there?”

“Copies of the crime scene photos from the last time we ran into each other.” She shrugged. “You ran off so fast after our encounter that you forgot what I’d brought for you. To tell you the truth, I was insulted: I went to all that effort, and —“

“You have my apologies,” he said curtly. “May I see them? I’d like to —“


“Excuse me, I was speaking.” Voice turning hard, she picked up the envelope and stood to face him. “Perhaps you’d rather I left, with the photos, and you never saw them at all.”

Graft’s expression darkened, his hands tightening on the cane. “You can’t expect to bend me to your will over a few pieces of paper,” he spat. “Do you have any idea of who you’re dealing with, girl?” He took a step closer, eyes menacing and jaw clenched. “I am a man to be feared, reckoned with. A little slip of a thing like you is nothing, poses no threat to me, no matter what military dog you serve.”

“And you’d be willing to garner his anger, I suppose?” Reaching into the envelope, Riza withdrew a single photo, holding it up at eye level. “Take a good look, Graft. Tell me about this picture.”

In an instant, his eyes lit up, a smile coming to his face. Riza tried not to shudder and break her carefully constructed façade; this only confirmed that he was, in fact, desperate for the photos. To see his handiwork more or less immortalized. “Ahh, yes…. This was quite the ordeal. It took me nearly an hour to set her scene. She wasn’t the best housekeeper, you see, clutter everywhere…. And her wardrobe was lacking in much to put her in. But I managed to find something that —“

He reached out a hand to touch the image, and Riza pulled it away, holding it at arm’s length out to the side. “I said look, but not touch,” she chided. “I’m glad to see you have such a vivid imagination, Graft. It will make the loss less painful.”

“What loss?”

There was a faint snap! from nearby, and the centre of the photograph exploded into flame. Riza dropped it to the ground even as Graft lunged for it.

“NO!”

Patting the fire out, disregarding burns to his hands, he knelt on the grass and glared up at her. “You inconsiderate bitch,” he snapped. “How dare you!”

People nearby were beginning to stare, but Riza ignored them. Standing tall, she returned the glare unflinchingly. “That’s only a small demonstration of what’s going to happen to you if you disrespect me any more than you already have,” she said icily. “In fact, if you have any interest in these photos at all, you’ll listen very carefully to what I have to say.”

Getting to his feet, Graft glanced around the area. “…I’m listening.”

Folding her hands, the envelope tucked between them and her body, Riza smiled politely. “There is a car waiting at the east entrance to the park. You’re going to walk there with me: no speaking, keeping your hands and your eyes to yourself. Once there, the rest of my team will be waiting to arrest you for your crimes. You will go with them compliantly and without any sort of fuss. If you do —“ she tapped a finger against the envelope. “—I’ll make sure you see the rest of these.”

“…I see.” He appraised her with a glance. “And if I were to, hypothetically, incapacitate you, take the photos, and run?”

“In that case, I was directed to deliver a message to you.” She smiled thinly. “‘If there’s one hair out of place on her head, one bit of dirt on her clothes, or the tiniest cut or bruise —‘“ She nodded back over her right shoulder. “‘—you’ll be a pile of ash before you make it ten feet.’”

Lying on a blanket about twenty metres away, Roy pushed up the brim of the hat that had concealed his face and distinctive hairstyle, offering a wave.

———————-

When he let himself into her apartment later that night, he was surprised to find her watching the door with one hand on her gun. “Whoa, settle down. It’s just me.”

Riza sighed, shaking her head as she lifted her hand from the weapon. “I’m sorry. I’m just — I’ve been on edge ever since I got home.” Her lip twisted in annoyance. “This shouldn’t be happening. Not to me.”

“What shouldn’t — that you’re shaken up after helping to take down a murderer who’s haunted our unsolved case files for over a year?” Kicking off his boots, he crossed the floor toward her. “Come here, you.”

When she was safely enfolded in his arms, his hand protectively on the back of her head, he continued. “Riza, you’re only human. You did an incredibly brave — and slightly stupid — thing today, and while I’m still not sure how you managed to pull it off… it was a good bit of work.”

She pulled her head away, looking up at him with a frown. “What do you mean ‘stupid?’ You didn’t have to agree to the plan; I was just making suggestions.”

“And the only reason I did end up agreeing this time is because I was going to be within sight of you at all times. If that hadn’t been the case, I would have shot it down straightaway. That being said….” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Never again. Not if we can at all help it. Okay?”

“Don’t worry.” Riza resettled her head against his shoulder. “I won’t be playing bait again anytime soon….”

There was quiet for a moment, before her shoulders shook in a quiet laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“Well… I promised Graft that if he cooperated and came quietly, that I’d let him see the photos.” She looked up, smiling with more than a hint of mischief. “I didn’t tell him that the only place he’ll see them is in evidence at his trial.”