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deviantconnorarmy · 6 years

Text

Details: Chapter 1--Family

AN: I’ve been itching to write some DBH fanfic for days now and I finally got an Idea I felt was worth putting out into the world (That was more than ‘I wanna write about Connor or Markus’) So here you go!!! (Just tell me if you want tagged!)

Characters: Cecilia Manfred, Markus, Carl Manfred, Leo Manfred

Pairing: Connor x OC

Warnings: Language. Oh, and no Connor yet--that should be a warning, too, haha.

Word Count: 3349

Masterlist Next Chapter --->

Classical music played softly throughout the first floor of the lavishly decorated house, one of its occupants asleep upstairs while the other was at worked cooking a breakfast for two in the kitchen. She didn’t hear the music, though, because she’d chosen to listen to her own, headphones on and playing songs from roughly two decades ago while she cooked.

Cecilia didn’t have to cook--Markus was her father’s caretaker, but she wanted to help, and this way she could get breakfast ready while Markus went to pick up an order for Carl. It was more efficient this way.

Once the eggs and bacon were finished, she dished them out onto two separate plates--the over easy eggs with the crisp bacon went on her father’s plate, covered to keep it hot until Markus returned, while Cecilia put the over hard eggs and still chewy bacon on her plate, waiting for the coffee to finish. She was turning to pour the morning necessity in her father’s fancy silver tumbler and almost collided with a familiar figure in the process. He was the one who prevented the crash, effortlessly reaching out and stopping her from running into him before coffee could end up everywhere.

Cecilia squeaked, turning off her music and removing her headphones so she could hear. “Markus! Don’t scare me like that!”

“I’m sorry, Ceci--I was about to try and get your attention,” Markus apologized, letting his hands drop away from her arms to take the tumbler out of her hands and set it safely on the counter. “I wanted to tell you I’m back before I wake your father up.”

“All right, well, now I know. I’ll go get all this set up while you go get him,” she said, gesturing towards the partially prepared breakfast tray.

“You don’t have to do that, I’ve got it,” Markus started to protest, but Cecilia waved him off.

“No, no, I’m capable of taking this to the table, you don't have to do everything by yourself, Markus. Go wake up Dad, I’ve got this covered.”

Markus gave her a small half-smile, like he’d expected her to tell him no but had asked anyway, turning to head back into the hall. “All right, we’ll be down in a moment.”

The automatic door slid shut behind Markus, and Cecilia finished getting her father’s breakfast put onto the silver tray, taking it out to the dining room before returning to fetch her own food. She could hear movement upstairs, and then voices coming closer as she brought her food into the dining room and sat across from where her father usually sat. Her heels clacked against the floor, apparently announcing her presence since she distinctly heard her name spoken as Markus and her father approached the dining room.

She’d only been sitting down a few moments when her Markus reappeared pushing her father’s wheelchair into the room, the old man’s face being graced with a rare smile as his gaze settled on her.

“Cecilia--what a lovely surprise,” Carl said warmly.

“Hi, Dad,” she returned with a smile of her own. “I thought I’d stop by this morning before heading to work, see you, help out a little.”

“And get a free meal, too, apparently,” Carl said pointedly as Markus wheeled him into view of the table. Cecilia chuckled.

“That’s just an added bonus. If I don’t eat here, I’m going to miss breakfast altogether.”

“Maybe you should get up a little earlier.”

“Says the man who gets up at ten in the morning.”

“I’m old enough to stay in bed as long as I please,” Carl stated, pausing to thank Markus for serving his food. “You on the other hand, have a job to attend to.”

“I also have flexible hours. It pays being an independent journalist. I could have worked out of my apartment if I really wanted to.”

“You’re office at the Stratford Tower is a lot better than your apartment.”

Cecilia waved her fork at her father. “And I’m going to stop you right there, Dad, cause I already told you, it’s what I can afford, and I’m not taking your money to upgrade to a house or something that I can’t afford yet. I am a self-sustaining child, thank you.”

Carl chuckled softly under his breath, looking up at Markus, who was standing at ease next to him with hands clasped in front of him. “Why don’t you find something to do while we finish our breakfast, Markus?”

“Okay, Carl,” Markus said pleasantly, disappearing behind Cecilia as he wandered deeper into the living room.

Piano or chess, Cecilia mouthed to her father, a silent bet. Carl smirked.

Piano, he returned, and Cecilia cursed. That was going to be her guess. So much for that--she’d just keep her money.

Her father chuckled softly, and a few moments later they heard the music start to play through the room. It wasn’t a regurgitated, to the letter classical piece--not that there was anything wrong with that, Markus played the piano magnificently and it was always a joy to listen to. This time it was something...intimate. That was the only word that Cecilia could find to describe it. Something with deep emotion that was pulling her in. As soon as she was finished she stood as quietly as possible, coming around the table to retrieve her father so they could both go over and listen to Markus play.

Carl stopped somewhere near the piano bench while Cecilia leaned on the grand piano, watching Markus’ fingers glide across the piano keys and simply...listening.

When the music finally came to its last note, Markus looked up at them, Cecilia recognizing a contemplative look on her father’s face.

“Something has changed in the way you play,” Carl noted. “Sometimes I think you have more humanity than most humans.”

Cecilia’s eyebrows rose, a slight bob of her head showing her agreement. Desensitization was real, and it was rampant in humanity from what she could see.

“One day I won’t be here to take care of you anymore. You’ll have to protect yourself, and make your choices...decide who you are, and wanna become. This world doesn’t like those who are different, Markus. Don’t let anyone tell you who you should be.”

Cecilia stared down at the glossy surface of the piano. She wanted to pipe up and say she would take care of Markus, but the truth was, she didn’t need an android. If he came to live with her, he wouldn’t have anything to do, really. She did most of her stuff herself, there wasn’t anyone that needed almost constant watching in her household because it was just fully functionate her.

But she also knew her father was getting older, and wouldn’t be around much longer. And Markus...well, she didn’t exactly want to see him reset and shipped off somewhere strange, or worse decommissioned and thrown away. When it came to that...if she was being honest with herself, she’d probably end up taking in Markus anyway. They’d figure something out.

After a few moments of the reflective silence the three of them had fallen into after her father’s words, Carl spoke up again.

“Let’s go to the studio.”

Markus rose from his seat at the piano, moving to steer Carl’s wheelchair while Cecilia walked ahead of them into the studio. As she entered, all of the lights came on and the curtains drew back, revealing the gorgeous view of the gardens that her father’s art studio had.

She loved it out here, for the view if nothing else.

“Let’s see where we left off--remove the sheet!” Carl commanded, falling into painter’s mode as Markus did as he was asked and revealed the giant, very blue painting her father was currently working on. As Carl got to work continuing his project, Markus started to clean up the studio, Cecilia trying to make a move to help him. She was quickly intercepted.

“No, you’ve got your work clothes on, I’ll clean up in here,” Markus told her patiently.

He had a point. She didn’t want to accidentally get paint on her work clothes, she needed to look nice, being in media and everything. So she relented in this instance, stepping back to watch her father put the finishing touches on his painting, then wandering over to his spot on the wall filled with sketches from when he was young and a few amateur drawings from his children.

Cecilia had not inherited her father’s painting skills--her talents lay in other areas.

Markus came to stand by her when he was done cleaning the studio, and she turned to give him a small smile that he returned. it was then that she finally noticed the tear in his clothes, and a smudge of dirt and dust here and there that indicated he’d been on the ground.

“What happened there?” she asked with a frown, gently touching the rip in his clothes.

“Oh, there were protesters in the street. It’s nothing, I’m fine,” Markus assured her, turning to head back towards Carl, though the move was partially to get her hand off of the affronted material. Cecilia’s frown deepened.

“Assholes,” she muttered, reaching over to dust off the smudges. She couldn’t do anything about the tear. “Sometimes I really hate people,” she finished with the shake of her head. Carl was coming back down from his painting by that point, so their conversation ended there.

“So...what’s the verdict?” Carl asked, not looking away from the now completed painting.

Cecilia tilted her head to the side. “It looks pretty cool, Dad--and no, that’s not a joke about all the blue,” she told him, leaning down to give her father a kiss on the cheek while he rolled his eyes.

Markus was looking at the painting much closer, a thoughtful look on his face, LED blinking yellow to show just how much he was thinking about it.

“Yes, there is something about it...something I can’t...quite define...I guess I like it,” Markus finished with a slight smile. Carl sighed.

“The truth is, I have got nothing left to say anymore. Each day that goes by brings me closer to the end. I’m just an old man clinging to his brushes...”

Cecilia felt a pang go through her at her father’s morbid words, and she placed a hand on his shoulder, fighting the urge to give it a squeeze.

“Carl...” Markus said softly, shifting uncomfortably. Carl turned his chair to face Markus.

“But enough about me--let’s see if you have any talent!” Markus stared at Carl, looking a little surprised. “Give it a try! Try painting something.”

“Paint, but what would I--painting what?”

“Anything you want! Give it a try,” Carl encouraged. The smile that lit up Markus’ face made him look like a kid at Christmas, and Cecilia had to hold back a small giggle, though she let her grin show as Carl handed Markus his palette. Markus took up position in front of the easel in the corner, casting his gaze around the room for a moment. His gaze flickered momentarily over Cecilia, among other things, before he turned his attention to the canvas propped up on the easel and started to paint.

Cecilia had to bite on the inside of her cheek to try and hide her initial disappointment as the movements he was making instantly reminded her of an old-fashioned printer. She’d been hoping for...well, she didn’t know. What did she expect, he was an android.

Sometimes she forgot that. It seemed her father did, too.

When Markus finally stepped back it was to reveal an unnervingly accurate painting of Cecilia. She stepped forward, very conscious of the fact that, as the subject, her opinion was going to have a lot of weight. She studied the replica of herself on the canvas, accurate to every slight crease in her red blouse and black pencil skirt, the reddish chestnut of her hair, currently pulled up in a bun, was almost captured by the paints--though hers was a color that was probably impossible to replicate with paint, Markus came very close. Or maybe he was spot on and her human eyes just didn’t know it. But he’d even managed to get the small mole along her cheekbone, close to her temple, and she was pretty sure she was seeing a reflection of Markus in her hazel blue green eyes.

“That’s extremely lifelike,” Cecilia commented, the surprise starting to wear off as she reminded herself he was an android.

Carl didn’t hold back in expressing disappointment, wheeling forward with a heavy sigh. “That is a perfect copy...of reality. But painting is not about replicating the world, it’s about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see,” Carl corrected him. Markus hesitated, looking at Cecilia’s father with doubt in his eyes.

“Carl I don’t...think I can do that, it’s not in my program...I..”

“Go on, go, try, grab that canvas,” Carl interrupted, gesturing Markus towards a fresh canvas. Cecilia stepped out of the way, curiosity on her face. She was wondering if Markus was about to get the same painting lesson her father had once tried to give her when she was younger. Markus gazed at Carl for a moment before doing what he’d asked, standing now uncertainly in front of the blank canvas now that he’d found out his first attempt had not been right.

Carl sighed. “Do something for me, close your eyes. Close your eyes. Trust me,” Carl stressed when Markus still hesitated. Markus stood facing the canvas, slowly closing his eyes as Cecilia’s father had asked. “Try to imagine something that doesn’t exist, something you’ve never seen. Now concentrate...on how it makes you feel. And let your hand drift across the canvas.”

Markus stood very still for a few moments, and Cecilia had a sneaking suspicion that his LED was going wild out of their line of sight. For a few agonizing moments all he did was stand there, but Cecilia knew that was all part of the process. Then, finally, the hand holding the brush rose to the canvas, and Markus began to paint. This time, even his strokes were different, wide and short, dotting and sweeping, swirling, actually painting in the movements of a human artist instead of that of a printer. Just like when she’d watched him play, Cecilia was spellbound, fascinated by the transformation happening in front of her, the creativity and emotion that seemed to now be leaking out of the being that 95 percent of the population would say was just a hunk of metal or plastic.

Markus...was different. An exception to the rule. Or at least the first sign that such assumptions were wrong.

When Markus finally stepped back, Cecilia couldn’t stop staring. She could see a bit of her father’s style in the painting, but overall, it was entirely Markus, completely original. And it was impactful. An all black background with two pairs of cupped hands in the center, both exactly the same, except one pair was glowing blue, the other red. It wasn’t that far of a leap to realize the blue hands were belonging to an android with blue blood, the red hands to a human with red blood.

Exactly the same except for the blood. Understanding, reaching out, equality. Something in Cecilia’s heart ached, and she thought she felt a burn in her eyes as her gaze shifted from the painting to Markus and back.

“Oh my God...” Carl breathed.

They didn’t get the chance to ask Markus what he’d been thinking about as he drew this, what he intended it to mean and if their impressions were right, no one got to say anything beyond her father’s breath of surprise. A fourth person had entered the room.

“Hey, dad.”

And instantly, all eyes were on Cecilia’s older half-brother.

“Leo...I didn’t hear you come in,” Carl said in surprise. Cecilia’s expression puckered as if she’d tasted something sour, out of sight behind her father. Markus’ posture was cautious, his movements slow and careful. Cecilia didn’t have to study her half-brother long to see the obvious signs of...well, either a withdraw or he was high, though considering Leo was here at the house it was probably the former.

She wasn’t on good terms with her half-brother, and for good reason.

“Ah, I was in the neighborhood...I though I’d stop by,” Leo said, fidgeting a little excessively. “It’s been a while, right?”

“You all right?” Carl asked. Markus was very carefully putting down the palette he’d been holding, like he was readying himself for a confrontation. Cecilia was, too. “You don’t look so good.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” Leo said dismissively. “Hey listen, uh...I need some cash, Dad.”

And there it is.

“Again? What happened to the money I just gave you?” Carl asked. He was officially showing close to the same level of wariness Markus and Cecilia weren’t bothering to hide.

“Uh...well, it jus-it just goes, you know?”

Carl gave a humorless laugh. “Yeah...yeah, you’re on it again, aren’t you?”

“No...no, no, I swear, it’s not that.”

“Ah, don’t lie to me, Leo--”

“What difference does it make? I just need some cash, that’s all!” Leo shouted, finally snapping. A heavy silence fell over the room.

“I’m sorry. The answer’s no,” Carl answered firmly.

“What? Why?”

“You know why!”

Leo’s gaze flickered towards Markus. “Yeah...yeah, I think I do no why.”

Oh, hell no.

“You’d rather take care of your plastic toy here than your own son, eh?” Leo taunted, gaze now riveted on Markus. Cecilia let go of the back of her father’s chair, slowly walking towards Leo as Leo stalked closer to a still Markus.

“Tell me, dad, what’s it got that I don’t? It’s smarter? More obedient? Not like me, right?” he spat, venom in his words. Markus stood calmly, LED blue, but judgement in his eyes. “Buy you know what? This thing is not your son. It’s just a fucking machine!” Leo shouted, shoving Markus back.

“Leo, that’s enough!”

“Hey, back off, now!”

Carl and Cecilia both yelled at the same time, though Cecilia got between Leo and Markus, shoving Leo back from Markus. She was on heels, and she was no athlete, but she was still going to put herself between Leo and Markus if Leo was going to get violent.

“Enough,” Carl repeated with finality, fixing Leo with a stern gaze. Leo scowled, gaze flickering to the painting Markus had just finished.

“You don’t care about anything except yourself and your goddamn paintings.”

Actually, that one was Markus...quite the compliment, though, under any other circumstances, mistaking Markus’ painting for Dad’s.

“You’ve never loved anyone. You never loved me, Dad. You never loved me.”

On that harsh note, Leo finally left. Markus, Carl, and Cecilia were quiet for a moment before they finally moved, Carl bending over in his chair with a sigh and Markus looking on worriedly. Cecilia bent down in front of her father, a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you all right, Dad?” she asked in concern.

“I’m fine,” he said heavily, shaking his head. “You should get going--you’ll be late for work.”

Cecilia wanted to argue on principle, but he was right--she had work she needed to get done, especially since she planned on attending the cocktail party later with her father. She was going to write a short little piece on the party to balance out some of her more serious topics on her news website and radio show.

Cecilia gently squeezed his shoulder. “All right...I’ll see you later, Dad. I love you.”

Carl gave her a tight smile--he was well aware she was putting emphasis on that last part because of Leo’s outburst, but she didn’t care--he needed to hear it right now.

Before she left, she paused next to Markus, giving his shoulder a squeeze as well, and flashing him a small smile. Then she left, her thoughts buzzing with Markus’ painting and Leo’s intrusion.

Next Chapter --->

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battleaxe-proficiency · 6 years

Text

Once More, From the Top

Sebastian disappeared, and the world stuttered.

Jor shot up out of bed with a sharp gasp, sweat beading his forehead. For a second, he was disoriented and confused. Where- The manor! The group! He had been standing with them, and Sebastian had said that it was the only way, and Ben- Ben-

But as his breathing began to steady out, the features of the room he was in began to finally register with him. The bed he was in, double-sized and awkwardly big for just one person; the bed-stand on which an old lamp and a single paperback book rested; the flimsy door that led to a closet of equally ordinary clothes. The light grey walls, a weak and vain attempt to make the room seem less sterile than if it was white.

He was in his flat- no, his apartment in New York. He was home.

But how was that possible? How had he ended up home? This- the apartment, the bed, the glaring light filtering through the blinds, the chirping of the birds outside- this all seemed real.

His hands were shaking. He fumbled for the bed-stand clumsily, yanking open its drawer and pulling out a pack of fags and a lighter. It took him a few tries, but he finally managed to light one and took a drag from it, still trying to control his breathing and process what had exactly happened.

Had it all been a dream, then…? Certainly, the entire experience had been fantastical. It wouldn’t be such a stretch to believe that it had all been nothing more than a nightmare. Sam Fellow, Vin Itzel, Adam Nesling, Ector Elm…all fake. All just a figment of his imagination. There was no Spy, no Host, no Helpless…

And no Ben.

He turned his head and looked towards the blinds, as if to glance away from his thoughts, and took another drag of his cigarette.

His hands were still shaking.

Life returned to normal.

Jor fell back into his daily routine- early morning run, breakfast bagel with coffee (no milk, no sugar). Work as a translator for a internationally-focused company. Grab lunch sometime during his break. Go home, have dinner (whatever he could find or make), take out his sketchbook and draw aimlessly for a while to relax. Go to bed, sleep, reset and repeat.

Normalcy.

And yet, his mind drifted again and again to the strange dream he’d had. It plagued every waking second of his day, to the point where his routine and behaviour changed in subtle ways. He paused at old antiques shops and stared at the marionettes. He watched moms try to herd their children, and accidentally called one “Kate” when her child came up to him and she went up to apologise. He checked out books about the occult, and looked up the name Aleah without really knowing why. He avoided Starbucks with a fiery passion.

And, over and over, he found himself drawing Ben. Curly dark locks, light mocha skin. Most of the drawings either had inconsistent or blank faces, but he kept drawing them nonetheless. Ben sitting on a hill, looking out into the distance. Ben reading a book on a train. Ben lying in bed during early morning, sprawled about lazily, his curls mussed about his face. Over and over and over.

He didn’t notice, but he never smoked during those moments.

It happened six months later, when the thoughts of the manor had faded to nothing more than a nagging thought in the back of his head. Even before anything had happened, Jor knew something was off- he’d woken up too late for a run, gotten scrambled eggs and toast for breakfast, and had inexplicably still ended up running late for work. He’d stepped off the train hurriedly, shirt backwards and socks mismatched in both colour and thickness, when a figure stepped out in front of him. The two of them collided rather harshly, and both fell down.

“Oh, my god, I’m so sorry-” a gentle British voice said, as Jor tried to figure out exactly what happened. The man sounded frantic and worried. “Are you okay? I was in a rush, and I-”

The man cut himself short. Jor took the opportunity to push himself up, eyes closed and still wincing a bit.

“...Jor?” the man asked, voice full of disbelief.

Jor froze. He opened his eyes.

The young man stared back at him, hazelnut eyes widened and lips slightly parted. His face was flushed, either from running or embarrassment; it was hard to tell. People rushed around them, glaring and grumbling in their general direction, but the air seemed still and silent, full of a crushing nothingness.

The man’s name came to Jor’s lips, as effortlessly as an exhale. “Ben.”

And with that one word, time seemed to start back up again. Ben launched himself at Jor, and Jor caught him effortlessly, instinctively. The other man was warm, solid, and so very, very real. He tightened his grip on him, burying his face into the crook of the other man’s neck as Ben cried, full-body sobs that shook through both of them and soaked Jor’s shirt.

“Jor,” he kept saying. “Jor, Jor. You’re real, you’re here, I didn’t make you up- oh god, you’re actually here.”

He smelled like old books and mint, and Jor breathed it in, trying to commit the smell to memory.

“I’m here,” he said, feeling his voice crack and waver as unshed tears threatened to choke him up. “I’m here, it’s okay. I’m here.” He repeated the words again and again, in English and Icelandic and Russian and German, knowing that the repetition wouldn’t help but doing it just the same.

Ben pulled back slightly, looking up at him. His eyes were shining, filled with relief and joy and tears, and he was beautiful.

Jor leaned in and kissed him before he could try to think about it. Ben made a sort of surprised sound, almost like a teary squeak, and for a second Jor panicked. He was about to pull away and apologise when Ben moved forward and kissed him back, passionate and desperate and oh-so-needy, a man desperately trying to attain a breath of fresh air.

It was.

Fuck.

When they finally separated, more out of lack of oxygen than anything else, Jor moved his right hand up to cup Ben’s cheek. He couldn’t seem to look away.

Neither, it seemed, could Ben, panting and looking at him with pupils dilated. The other man licked his lips and spoke, voice low. “Maybe we should continue this at your place.”

Jor had to text a coworker and ask her to cover for him, but that was fine. He had more important things to attend to.

“I thought I’d made you up,” Jor said later, the two of them sprawled in bed on their sides, facing one another. He ran his hand through Ben’s locks and over his jawbone, causing the other man to close his eyes for a brief moment and shudder, almost imperceptibly. “Everything disappeared, and the whole thing was so fantastical and surreal…”

“I know,” Ben murmured, his accent making his already gentle voice seem even softer. “I thought the same thing when I appeared back home, completely intact.” He leaned in and kissed Jor quickly, pulling back with a smile. “I’m so, so glad I was wrong.”

Jor pulled him in for another kiss, savouring the feel of the other man’s lips. “The others. We should find them.” Ben hummed. “For re-establishing friendships, or to have a reunion?”

“Both. Maybe not a reunion in a fucked-up mansion, though.”

He got a small laugh in return. “That would be preferable, yes. Should we start with the more normal ones? Kate and Layla and Asyah and PJ?”

“Mhm. Make our way up the weirdness ladder to the exorcist and Jim and Aleah.”

“Do you think Puppet would still possess the exorcist if nothing in the manor happened? I hope so…”

“Well, we’ll find out.”

Ben smiled at him, and in that moment Jor knew he was absolutely, positively fucked-over in love with him. “Together, yeah?”

Jor moved towards Ben and rolled him over onto his back, positioning himself over the other man as Ben laughed. “Saman,” he said before pulling Ben back in for a long kiss, one of many he suspected they’d share for a very long time. “Together, absolutely.”

@abbaquiche, @theinvisiblespoon, @ironwoman359, @readeatfightlove13

(I am absolutely missing people please tag them if you can)

#mira writes #my fanfics #actually #is this fanfiction or creative writing?#the world shall never know #only ben is my creation #ben #the photographer #jorgen #benjor #everything is f.i.n.e.#everything is fine #version 1: the loop ceases to exist #ruined manor gang #broken mirror gang

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canadian-buckbeaver · 6 years

Text

The Stars in Your Eyes

Finally, after so long, Chara has brought the Underswap Monsters to the Surface. Everyone seems to be adjusting well, getting new carers, new relationships... all except Berry. He seems to be falling behind. But all that changes when he takes cooking lessons with a slightly familiar flame monster, and another Universe is released from the Underground.

Raffle prize for the amazing @sesurescue (TAG PLS TUMBLR) - I hope you enjoy!

When they first reached the Surface, after so long of his brother speaking of it and of him dreaming of it, little Sans had been entranced by the great ball of fire, the sun. How could something be that big and that warm and yet still be many, many miles away from them? He would have to ask Undyne again how it worked again, but later.

His brother, the tall and lanky, Papyrus, ever dressed in his signature orange hoodie, had been staring at the sun too. Not in the entranced way that Sans was, but in the way that one looks as if they fear that they will see something for the last time. Full of desperation and an odd helpless hunger. His depression was getting worse. Sans had been worried about him. Papyrus, although no stranger to night terrors and these odd bouts of depression, looked worse than he had ever seen him before. Chara, the little pink-cheeked human that had released them from the Underground, had walked up to him, noticing his sad expression. “Never again,” she had whispered quietly, seemingly promising something to him. “I'll never Reset again. This was the last time.”

Papyrus had looked at the small human before looking away and looking over the cliff. “I hope so, kid. I don't think I can forgive you for ripping us away from this ever again.”

Chara had looked slightly stricken but had silently nodded, resignation in her face. Sans had watched the strange encounter between them with some confusion. What was a Reset? Why was Papyrus acting like this wasn't his first time seeing the sun or the Surface?

And why did it seem like he and Chara had a bit of a… ugly personal history, for the lack of better words?

* * * * *

Months had come and gone and Sans slowly grew accustomed to this new and wonderful world. Luckily, the humans did not seem to mind the monsters. They actually seemed rather fascinated by them.

The monsters were also slowly settling within their new positons. Although not a monster, Chara was their ambassador between them and the humans and had tried to get the best positions possible for all of them. They had taken into account all their personal likes, dislikes and opinions on everything and brought that towards the humans in charge. Alphys had not been able to keep her position with guards, but she had been hired as a gym teacher at a local school, a perfect fit for the bossy and energetic lizard. Both Undyne and Papyrus had been taken in as research assistants at an offshoot of a hospital lab. Sans… well he hadn't found anything yet. After so many long and tedious years of hunting for humans and yearning to join the guards…

Well… it was only natural that he had a bit of an adjustment period, right? He did nothing but throw his absolute best into everything. However, to be completely honest, it had seemed like a lot of his ‘drive’ had disappeared. He began to slow his quick and restless movements and, though, his smile was still ever present on his face, but it was not nearly as overly big or cheerful. It did not sparkle or scream of the joy or zealous attitude that he had once for life. Papyrus had been slightly worried, even having Undyne check him over. But there was nothing physically wrong with him. Sans HP hadn't fallen, nor were his bones cracking and grey. He was still the picture of health! He just needed to find his new focus Undyne had told him.

Find his focus…. That made sense.

Now… what could he focus on?

Sans started a couple dead end jobs, starting out in a couple fast food restaurants to bring in some extra money but, it wasn’t his style. The food was made without love or care, the patrons loud, rude and demanding. No wonder Papyrus always needed to nap at the end of such a shift. He tried a cashier's position at the local supermarket but Sans just couldn't focus. There was something else, something more for him, or something that he was missing.

But what? What could the Magnificent Sans be missing?

Undyne had brought up the idea of a mate but there was just no one that made him truly happy. Humans that dated him were more interested in his bones than anything, and the monsters he had seen as friends. Nothing more. Things weren't looking good for Sans.

He found himself in school, cooking school, to his delight. It was even being headed by another monster. An orange, crackling fire monster named Grillby. This elemental reminded Sans of Swirllby back in Underswap. Both wore suits and glasses, both were bartenders, and of course both were fire elemental monsters. This orange fire monster seemed more serious, more down to earth than the yellow and robust Swirllby. This Grillby was an amazing teacher though. Sans was learning to make more than just his famous and delicious tacos. In just his first week of cooking classes he had surprised Papyrus with a perfect burger and fries – just greasy enough to satisfy his unhealthy tooth, but still low in fat to be somewhat healthy for the skinny bones. It was a bit like the old days, and Sans found some of his energy returning. His smile widened and the sparkle began to return to his eye sockets.

There was still something though…

One day in school they were learning the finer arts of pasta making he overheard the other students of his class talking.

“You've seen it right? The lights are on in that cave again.” The red-haired male had whispered to his cooking partner.

“Do you think more monsters are coming?” She had whispered to him.

“I'm not sure, but if there are, I hope they are as friendly as the ones that have already crossed.”

Sans was excited and confused. Lights on in the cave? Perhaps more monsters from the other side of the Underground were finally escaping. There had been a few that were hesitant to come, preferring to remain in the safety of known, the deadly and violent tales of humans still echoing through their ears. The Underground had been all they had known and a few had been loath to leave.

Perhaps he could show them around! Teach them the ways of the Surface life.

Over supper he had told Papyrus his plan. Papyrus had looked at him over his small mountain of lasagna, seemingly puzzled. But the stars in Sans' eyes had returned, along with a look of determination. One that he hadn't seen in a long, long time.

So Papyrus decided against telling that there were no more monsters left in the Underground. That all of Swap had eventually joined the others on the Surface…

And that the barrier had resealed behind them, trapping them, for better or for worse, with the humans and the sun above.

Days came and went, and Sans heard no more about lights on in the cave. Perhaps a false alarm or nothing but a rumour. He sighed and continued about his daily routine.

About a month later and Sans found himself home alone. It was Friday, his day off from school and he had spent it cleaning and doing laundry, the little things that had happened to pile up around the house while the rest of them were busy. Chara had only a half day at school and had asked if they could be picked up today so, at eleven o'clock sharp, he tied on his signature blue bandana and stepped outside.

He stepped outside and took a deep breath. The air was so clear and clean here. Sometimes smoggy with exhaust but today was perfect. It had rained the night before so the air was still crisp and fresh. The birds were still chirping and singing and the sky blue without a cloud in the sky. After mentally debating for a bit, Sans decided that a bit of exercise could do them all good. He slowly walked to the school, waving to the neighbours.

Sans noticed that Mr. Jeffery's house had sold. Oh good! New neighbours! It would make a good impression to bring over a plate of freshly baked cookies later. Be neighbourly. Perhaps there would be someone for Papyrus to talk to. Undyne and him had always been good friends, but after working together for so long, they needed a bit of a break from each other. Not to mention his recent break up with Muffet. They had tried to hide the split but nothing stayed hidden for too long from Sans if he put his mind to it… perhaps while he had Chara alone he should ask her about the Resets. Papyrus was being very tight lipped about the whole ordeal…

Well. First Chara, then cookies, and then see what else he could fit into the day.

Sans made it to the school in record time. But, to his surprise, Chara wasn't waiting for him at their meeting place alone. She was talking animatedly to someone, one who looked exactly like her. Heck they could almost be mistaken for twins if Sans didn’t know any better.

Sans stopped and rubbed his sockets. Nope, definitely not a dream. He was seeing double.

As if sensing him, both human children turned at once to him. Sans felt his soul stutter in his chest. The other kid that Chara was talking to, really looked exactly like her, from the shade of brown in her hair, to the slightly unusual colouring of her skin. The only difference was that she had closed eyes, appearing in a squint. A small shiver rain down his spine at the sight of this strange child. He could have sworn that he had seen this child before but how? Chara was the only human that had fallen into the Underground in his lifetime.

Déjà vu perhaps as Undyne said.

“Sans!” Chara's blood red irises sparkled. “Sans I did it! I made a new friend!”

Sans shook off his uncomfortable feelings. Chara had finally made a new friend after months of difficulty. It turns out that human children did not fully appreciate other children who were different. He needed to be happy for her. “Why hello there small human! It is I, the Magnificent Sans! It is a pleasure to meet you.” He grinned at the closed-eyes human, his eyes big, round and the bluest-blue, sparkles shimmering deep in the irises but no stars as pupils.

The human stared at him in awe. Sans couldn't blame them. After all, he was talking skeleton that couldn't be mistaken for anything less fantastic.

“No way. Your name is Sans too?” they asked him.

Sans felt his smile grow. “Wowie! We both have the same name? You must be very magnificent as well.”

Both humans giggled at him. “No! My name isn't Sans, silly. My name is Frisk. But my friend's name is. If he comes today.”

“Well then I, the great Sans, will wait with you until they show your friend arrives!”

Frisk sighed wistfully at Sans before she looked over at Chara. “I'm so jealous. Wait till you meet my asshole friends.”

Sans would have called her out on her language but, after living with the humans for so long, Sans had long since come to terms that humans did not care about the atrocious terms that they used. They would continue using it, even when asked to stop. It appeared to be a second nature to them.

They had only waited for about five minutes when Frisk sighed. “Oh no… why him? And why is he still wearing that stupid costume?”

Looking up Sans saw a tall, thin skeleton marching towards them. Even from a distance he could sense the authoritative air that this other skeleton had around him. He wore a long, red torn scarf that fluttered around their neck, a slick leather jacket, and tall red boots.

They reminded him a bit like…

“FRISK! FINALLY! THERE’S YOUR SORRY ASS.” The skeleton spat as he came close.

Frisk huffed at the tall skeleton. “Took you fucking long enough, Papyrus…” Suddenly Sans was grateful that he hadn't mentioned the language to the human. His little spiel wouldn't have had any effect at all, especially if this was who she was going home to. “We’ll you're late. The Great and Terrible Papyrus running behind schedule?” Frisk taunted.

The tall skeleton actually snarled at the small human. “DON'T TEMPT ME, WORM. YOU MAY REMEMBER THAT IT WAS MY LAZY SHIT OF A BROTHER WHO HAD PROMISED TO PICK YOU UP. YOU'RE LUCKY THAT I CAME INSTEAD WHEN I COULDN'T WAKE HIM OUT OF HIS MUSTARD INDUCED HAZE.”

Frisk huffed at him. “Well, while I was waiting for you I met Chara and Sans. Be polite and introduce yourself properly.” She said, introducing them to this other Papyrus.

Suddenly Sans found his jaw roughly being seized and being thoroughly examined by the other skeleton. Those piercing red slits of eye lights seemed to peer right through him, as if he was looking for something in particular. Sans couldn’t make a move, those eyes froze him to the spot, right where he stood. Blue eyes met red, both skeletons looking deep into each other’s eyes, trying to see through to their souls. Finally, after a long moment, he was released from the rough grip. “HOW PECULIAR. YOU HAVE THE SAME NAME AS MY BROTHER, YET YOU APPEAR TO BE NOTHING LIKE HIM.” He looked closer into Sans’ eyes. “AND STAR PUPILS… HOW ODD…” His pupils must have changed as this Papyrus looked him over.

Sans rubbed at his cheeks. “You look exactly like mine too, yet are definitely nothing like him. Particularly with your loud mouth.” He sputtered back, surprised at the gall that this skeleton had. Who greets a new friend like that? Wasn’t a handshake the norm of greeting one another? He would have to double check with Chara when they got home.

The other skeleton grinned, looking slightly sinister. “SUCH AN ATTITUDE TOWARDS ME WOULD NEVER BE ALLOWED IN UNDERFELL. YOU WOULD BE DUST BEFORE YOU HAD TIME TO FALL TO YOUR KNEES AND BEG FOR MY MERCY.”

UnderFell? What sort of name was that? He and his brother were from Snowdin, UnderSwap at that. Or was this skeleton making up fictionAL names on the spot?

“Well you would have definitely been put into Community Service if you were in UnderSwap. How dare you speak to a trainee of the Royal Guards like that!” Sans stated back.

This sharp Papyrus roared with laughter, causing Sans to flush a bright, brilliant blue. “WHAT SORT OF PUNISHMENT IS THAT, LITTLE SANS? YOU’RE ONLY A TRAINEE AFTER ALL. MEANWHILE I AM THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARDS, COMPLETE MASTERMIND OF THE INCREDIBLY DEADLY DOOMSDAY FIELDS…” Frisk sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, obviously having heard this speech before. “He’s captain?” Chara asked. “What happened to Alphys?”

“Alphys? Papyrus won control of the Royal Guards from Undyne, shortly just before I fell.” Frisk said looking thoughtful. “I wonder if the other monsters are also switched.”

“Well he did say that Sans is the lazy monster…” Chara said.

“AS MUCH AS I APPRECIATE MEETING NEW MONSTERS AND SPREADING THE TALES OF MY GREATNESS, WE ARE VERY MUCH BEHIND SCHEDULE.” Papyrus said, grabbing hold of Frisk’s arm and pulling her harshly towards him. “WE MUST BE OFF SMALL CREATURES. HOWEVER, IF YOU EVER WISH TO LAY YOUR EYES ON SUCH GREATNESS AGAIN, YOU CAN MAKE THE PROPER APPOINTMENT AND WE CAN MEET AGAIN.”

“36 Samodiva drive!” Frisk said, trotting to keep up with Papyrus’ long gait.

Sans let out a little groan. “Mr.Jeffery’s old house.” He explained unnecessarily to Chara. Looks like he had met their new neighbours after all. Chara only giggled and ran up to keep pace with her new friend and continue whatever they were talking about before the skeletons showed up. As Sans began to follow them he realized that his soul was doing little somersaults in his chest, feeling lighter than it had in a very long time. He could still feel the slight burn of his blush on his cheeks…

What did that mean?

* * * * *

The days started to come and go at a far more pleasant pace. Gone were the achingly long days, where the sun tip toed across the sky, making the moon goddess wait for her turn to cross the stage. Sans, or Berry now as the monsters had taken to calling him, went along with what was now considered normal life. He would wake up, make sure that Chara and Papy, woke up on time for work and school, he would make breakfast for them, and then he would go to school himself.

More often than not he would see Frisk running out the door for school, the child always giving him a small, friendly wave before running down the street.

Cooking classes started to become more interesting for Berry. Grillby had began to introduce the class to more heartier dishes, more noodles and fulfilling stir fries, not just soups and simmering for half the class. Perhaps this is what caused Berry to begin to feel more determined than ever. He was finally beginning to enjoy cooking class, showing off what he could do. This feeling only intensified when the sharp toothed Papyrus joined his cooking classes. Though they never worked together in the same group, Berry found himself trying vainly to catch his eye. Even as he began to earn top marks in his dishes, that red gaze still stayed away from his blue eyes.

Berry couldn’t understand himself or these odd feelings in his chest. He seemed to be looking forward to catching sight of the tall, dark skeleton monster, his soul always giving a small flutter when he saw him. It had never felt like this, not even when he saw Napstabot in concert that time with his brother. Berry chalked it up to finally meeting another version of his brother. Every so often he would see another version of their villagers. He still had yet to see the other Sans but, if what Edge looked like was any indication… Well, this other Sans had to be pointy and dangerous too, right? The thought rattled around his skull every so often.

It was about a month after the Fells joined everyone on the Surface when Grillby called to Berry during one of the cooking class. “Berry. Will you see me after class?” he had asked, his pure white eyes looking at him.

Grillby’s voice never rose above a whisper, yet each word was strong, carried to their ears by a warm gentle wind, encouraging them to listen. When he laughed, as he rarely did, it sounded like the soft crackle of embers… Berry was quietly staring at him before he realized that he was watching his teacher with a stoic empty gaze. “Oh!” Berry exclaimed. “No… No… Not at all… I mean! Yes! Yes I will see you after class.” Berry blushed brightly as his teammate for the day giggled quietly. Across from the room those red eyes lifted from the boiling water for a second, looking up at the other skeleton, before they returned to their task.

It seemed to take forever for the last student to trickle out of Grillby’s classroom but finally they were alone. “Yes, Grillby?” he asked as Grillby locked the door behind the last student.

“Berry, I feel like you are no longer challenged by my class.” Grillby told him, getting straight to the point.

Berry looked down at his hands and slowly shook his head. “When… when we were under the Surface my brother was pretty set against me joining the Royal Guards. Instead he had me trained in the kitchens and cooking. I have learned a few new dishes, and I enjoy it here, it’s… well, as you said. It’s not a challenge to me.”

Grillby hummed in thought, scratching his hand through his fiery hair, causing little orange sparks to float off of him. Berry had to giggle. Seemed like the fire elemental, for being a top notch chef, had a bad case of dandruff. “How about this instead. I run my own bar just off campus. Tomorrow you start as my assistant chef. Think of it as your practicum.” He said, looking at the little skeleton monster for confirmation.

“What? Are… are you serious?” being Grillby’s practicum student… it was unheard of that Grillby would take students from his own class to work with him. Grillby nodded again, no words this time. “Yes… yes sir!”

There was a larger smile. “Very well Berry… I’ll see you tomorrow then. Three o’clock. Don’t be tardy. I don’t let my own mates be late, so there’s no excuse for you, student or not.”

* * * * *

It was two thirty and Berry was already in front of the bar, eagerly pacing. He had been so excited that he had left home as soon as he could and had ran over. It seems like he had beat the fire monster there though. He looked at his little wrist watch and sighed. His brother always did say that he was eager to make a good impression…

“Here already?” a smooth, crackling voice asked him.

Berry jumped and whirled around. There was Grillby. He was somehow dressed even more formally than in the classroom. It had to be the bowtie. “Er… yes. You did tell me not to be late.” Berry said, smiling wildly.

Grillby smiled. “I suppose I did.” He pulled out a ring of keys from his pocket. “Come on then. You can help me set up. We’ll just keep the doors locked behind us until we are ready for everyone.”

For the next three hours, Berry worked harder than he ever had in Grillby’s class. He wiped down counters, tables and seats, washed countless dishes, making sure everything sparkled in the low lights, before helping Grillby prep the food that he would need right away for the hungry monsters. As five drew closer Berry could see a small gathering of monsters and humans outside of the bar. “My regulars.” Explained Grillby, noticing Berry’s curious gaze.

“How… how long have you been on the Surface?” Berry asked him It seemed as if the regulars were very comfortable with one another, open and laughing, casually joking with each other.

“About five years.”

Berry couldn’t believe it. “So long already?” he asked. No wonder the humans were used to the sight of other monsters. They had plenty of time to adjust to the thoughts and sight of monsters walking amongst them.

“Yes… they’ve flown by… the best five years of my life.” Grill by said softly, dusting off two photographs. The one that Berry could see held two flame elements in the picture, in a place that looked like Snowdin. The other… it was a picture of Grillby and two other silhouettes.

“Ready to open up?” Grillby asked, checking the stove and oil. Hot and ready for everything.

Berry nodded and walked over to the door. He took a deep breath before unlocking the doors and opening them.

* * * * *

It was during that first hour of work that Berry knew that he had made the right choice. He was on his feet, constantly running around. He was grabbing food or drinks for the patrons, making cheerful small talk and feeling comfortable. Yes, he was feeling like his old self again. Even the humans were making sure that he felt warm and welcome. Though that could have always been the ever presence of Grillby making them feel that…

No… Berry had a feeling that it wasn’t.

“Hey Grillz. Ya gotta helper today.” A voice drawled. Berry turned away from the counter he was wiping to look at the other monster. A short, small skeleton in a black furred jacket sat on the stool. He looked rough, like he had been in a few skirmishes, with cracks dotting his skull and his other visible bones. He looked to be the stereotypical trouble type of monster with a collar around his vertebrae, his golden tooth, his fangs and his red eye lights.

Red eye lights…

Berry wondered.

“Good evening Red… was beginning to think that you wouldn’t make it out here today.” Grillby said, approaching him.

Red shrugged. “Ya know how prissy the Boss can be… but I was lucky and the others talked him into it, not that he had a choice.” Grillby seemed to roll his eyes and chuckle softly before sliding him a yellow bottle, but saying nothing in return. “Happy Friday.” Red said, tipping the bottle towards Berry before taking a sip.

“It’s Thursday.”

“Friday somewhere already.” Red said, sighing slightly as he came up for air. “What does it take to get a menu around here?” he asked.

“Aren’t you getting your usual? Burger and fries to stay. And then a spicy steak sandwich with spicy ketchup and bacon with an order of fries, and an order of combination noodles and sweet-and-sour pork, those items to go?” Grillby asked him curiously.

The skeleton chuckled. “I’ve been here less than a month and you already know me as well as my own Grillby…” he said, clinking the tags on his collar with a finger. There were two different tags on it, Berry realized. Both tags were circular but one was red, the other purple coloured. The bartender gave a quick, business smile and began to cook the food, having the burger and fries ready within moments, and turning back to the burners deal with the other food. Red hummed happily and began to eat.

Berry ran around, helping the other customers before returning to the front of the bar. Red ate his food quickly. In the time it took Berry to make a lap around the area, Red had ate his hamburger and was working on the last of his fries.

Almost like he was used to losing food as soon as he got it.

“You’ve been staring at me a lot. If you have a question just ask me. I won’t bite… hard.” Red said, popping the last fry in his mouth.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to be rude!” Berry exclaimed, again a light blue flush coming to his cheeks.

“Well you were so you might as well ask me.” Red grumbled, watching as Grillby finished his last part of the order.

“Just… just where I come from I don’t see many collars. We usually put them around pets so monsters would know who to return them to.” Berry tried to explain, somehow making himself more embarrassed.

Red listened to him, pulling slightly at the sturdy leather wrapped around his vertebrae. “That’s what we do in Underfell too.” He said. “Collars are for pets, or to symbolize what belongs to you. Your property. Though there…” he picked slightly at his fangs, “it was more of a warning of who you were messing with.”

“But you wear it like a choker.” Blue said, astounded at how calm Red was explaining all of this to him.

A curt nod. “That’s because I belong to someone… two special someones actually.” His gaze became softer as he tapped at the dogs tags again. The light caught the tags differently, exposing the engravings on the tags. Single letters were engraved on both tags – the red tag had an N, while the purple had a P on it. This monster seemed to be more full of riddles and half answers, than any real answers.

Grillby handed Red the bag. “I assume this is being put on your tab?” he asked, a raised brow on his face.

“Heh…. I’m going to have to find a new place to eat. You really do know me too well.” Red said, grabbing hold of the bag. In a flash he was gone, teleported away. The only sign that he was ever there was the empty mustard bottle at the spot that he had sat.

These monsters really were odd, Berry determined before going back to serving the other patrons.

* * * * *

The last of the patrons finally cleared out as Berry and Grillby set to returning the bar to some sort of normality. Floors were swept and moped, counters and appliances scrubbed till clean…

“For everything that was eaten tonight, it didn’t take too long to prepare everything.” Berry noted as he was stacking chairs on top of the tables.

Grillby nodded. “I also have a morning crew while I am teaching. They do a lot more prep and through cleaning than we could accomplish in a single night… I owe a lot to my staff.” He grinned and laughed softly, sparks emitting from his fiery hair again.

Berry smiled. It seemed like Grillby was very genuine, as a business man, chef and teacher…

He was fortunate to have met him.

There was a small crack, causing Berry to startle and jump, whirling to meet the disturbance. A tall lanky skeleton, dressed in an outfit similar to the Royal Guards of the Underground, and a small, stout skeleton dressed in a blue jacket stood behind him, settling from the force of their teleport. A red scarf and grey hood swayed softly in the artificial breeze. Berry blinked and rubbed at his eye sockets. These… these were other versions of him and his brother, another Sans and Papyrus. Not Fells but…

“There you guys are.” Grillby said, a small pink flush coming to his cheeks as he leaned over the counter. “I was wondering if you guys forgot about me.”

“FORGET ABOUT YOU? NEVER! IT WAS SIMPLY THAT THE LAZY BONES FELL ASLEEP ON THE COUCH AGAIN AND WAKING HIM UP… WELL YOU KNOW HOW WELL THAT GOES OVER.” The tall, other Papyrus said, looking over at Grillby.

Sans chuckled. “sorry Grillz. i was bone tired.”

Berry and Papyrus groaned as Grillby shook his head. The small noise caused the two skeletons to look over at him. “WOWIE! THIS MOST BE THE STUDENT YOU WERE TALKING ABOUT!” the Papyrus said, walking over to Berry and stretching out a hand. “IT’S NICE TO MEET YOU. GRILLBY TALKS ABOUT YOU AND SPEAKS THE WORLD OF YOUR COOKING. I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BUT I AM SURE THAT YOU KNEW THAT ALREADY. GRILLBY SAYS YOU ALSO HAVE A BROTHER WITH THE SAME NAME AS I…” Papyrus continued to talk, still pumping Berry’s hand like an excited motor.

“and i’m Sans.” The other skeleton gently pried him out of Papyrus never ending handshake. “nice to meet ya. like Paps says, Grillz speaks very highly of you.”

“Especially after tonight…. I think my restaurant is in trouble.” Grillby snorted at the outrage that the three skeletons made. “Berry, I’m sure you already know their names but this the short one is Sans, and the tall one is Papyrus. They are my mates.” He said to Berry carefully, his cheeks still slightly flushed.

Berry wasn’t fazed by this. In Swap, though it was unusual for a monster to have more than one partner, it was not unheard of. “It’s very nice to meet you.” he said with a wide smile. “You guys are lucky! Grillby must make sure that you guys are fed well every night.”

The three other monsters’ shoulders relaxed slightly and their grins became more genuine. “Paps actually does most of the cooking.” The other Sans admitted. “Grillby is busy with his teaching and the bar, and apparently my cooking goes unappreciated.”

“IT IS NOT THAT YOUR COOKING GOES UNAPPRECIATED, BROTHER, IT IS THAT YOUR COOKING CONSISTS OF EITHER HOT DOGS AND KETCHUP, OR COMING HERE TO PICK UP YOUR ORDER!” Papyrus said, causing the two skeleton brothers to good naturally argue with each other.

“Is your brother picking you up?” Grillby asked over Papyrus and Sans’ commotion, “I’m sure we can shortcut our way to your place before we head home.”

Berry grinned. “He should be home any moment…” he said, “he was probably just sleeping on the couch…”

“tell me, who was sleeping on the couch?” a lazy voice asked. Papy was behind him, a sparkle in his eye lights and an odd red and white toque on his skull. When he had he gotten such a hat? It clashed with his orange pullover…

Seriously, the nerve of this skeleton.

Papyrus, Papy, Sans and Grillby were introduced and shook hands quickly. It seemed like Papyrus and Sans were in a hurry to get Grillby home.

“Alright Berry…” the orange flame monster said, yawning as the other two skeletons pulled him towards them. “I’ll give you the day off of school tomorrow, but I’ll be expecting you here, same time…. and the next day you’ll be at school.”

“Of course Chef!” Berry grinned, feeling his own eye sockets become heavy and his body begin to lean against his brother. “Tomorrow…”

He barely felt his brother’s teleport home or being tucked into bed. The next thing he was aware of was curling into his warm blankets and pillows, a large smile on his face as he began to fall asleep…

* * * * *

Next morning Berry managed to wake everyone up on time and shoo them out the door for school and work, Papy still insisting on wearing the goofy hat. He would have to ask him about that later…

The day passed quickly. Berry crawled back into his bed after the others left, waking about two hours later feeling more refreshed and happy than he had in a while. After giving the house some much needed attention (how does that many dishes accumulate in one day?) Berry began to prepare to leave. He still needed to give himself plenty of time to get to Grillby’s bar.

Excitement growing, he quickly opened the door, almost walking into Edge who was posed to knock on the door.

“Oh… afternoon Edge. How was school today?” Berry asked, smiling at the slightly confused monster.

Edge’s hand retreated back to his side. “BORING AS ALWAYS. IF GRILLBY WANTS US TO FRY THE MEAT, THERE NEEDS TO BE MORE FIRE.” he said, voicing a common compliant in Grillby’s class. It wasn’t “dangerous” enough for him. He needed a better challenge… the list went on.

Berry chuckled politely before stepping out onto their porch. “Perhaps once we become more experienced and take the advanced classes we’ll be able to.” Berry suggested, locking the door.

Edge growled slightly. Berry knew a little about the large monster, but it was very apparent that he was an impatient creature. “YOU WEREN’T AT SCHOOL TODAY.” He stated. “YOU WEREN’T SICK, WERE YOU?” he asked.

Berry shook his head. “No, Grillby gave me the day off because we were working at his bar till late.” Berry said. “I’m headed there now…”

“WILL YOU BE COMING BACK TO THE CLASS?”

“Well of course. I still have to do the written portion of the tests and assignments, I’ll just be doing the cooking with Gril- why do you ask Edge?” Berry looked up at him. Edge had almost sounded concerned, worried that he wouldn’t be at school anymore…

“I WAS JUST CONCERNED THAT YOU WERE COMING DOWN WITH WHAT OUR HUMAN CLASSMATES CALL THE FLU, IS ALL.” Edge stated, growling a little. “HOWEVER, IT SEEMS LIKE MY FEARS WERE UNFOUNDED. VERY WELL, I SHALL AWAIT YOUR RETURN.” Edge said, turning and walking into his own house, leaving a bewildered Berry on the sidewalk.

For the rest of the night Berry wondered about Edge. Was Edge really concerned for him? Or was he more concerned that Berry wouldn’t ever be attending school again?

* * * * *

The thought echoed through Berry’s skull all through his shift. The night flew by in a blur of movement, drinks and food. It seemed to be just as busy as last night and yet… Berry wasn’t retaining any of it. He was on autopilot – doing the odd jobs and the orders that he was requested of, but mentally, he remained up on the porch, looking up at the handsome skeleton…

“you’re not here, are ya champ?” a voice asked him.

Sans, Grillby’s mate. The blue hoodied skeleton tipped a bottle of ketchup to him in a jaunty salute, familiar to Red’s.

Berry grinned at him. “Is this what Papyrus calls you cooking?” he joked, finding a moment to talk to the other version of him.

The skeleton chuckled. “more like Paps is having anime night with my Undyne and Alphys so it’s me home alone until Grillby gets home… but that’s not what i asked. where is your mind tonight? you look many, many miles from here though you still manage to serve everyone…” Sans asked, finishing up the bottle and looking up at him.

Berry looked down at the glass he was rubbing clean. “Isn’t is supposed to be the opposite way? The bartender asking the patron?”

“that’s only in movies,” Sans said, waving it away. “wait… you have your mind on a monster. you have the same expression on your face that Paps did when he and Grillby first started dating.” Berry flushed bright blue. Was he that easy to read? “come on,” Sans smiled, “i’m you, so i know that i’m right. who is it?” he asked.

Berry huffed at him. “You’re awfully nosey…” he complained. Sans shrugged, just leaning forward on the counter, listening intently. Berry sighed. “Fine… I was thinking of one of the other monsters that is in the cooking class with Grillby and I…”

“Is it Boss?” Red asked, sitting next to the other Sans.

Berry yelped. Was there no privacy in this establishment?

“Boss…?” Sans asked the red, fanged skeleton.

“My brother. He was Boss of the Royal Guards…. Let’s call it an old habit.” Red explained, catching the mustard that Berry slid to him, passing the ketchup to Sans.

Sans wiggled his bros. “and here i thought that poor Berry was too innocent to have a crush.” He teased gently, winking at the small blue skeleton.

Red shook his head. “What is the world coming to, am I right?” he eyed Berry. “But, I’m going to give you some advice kid…” he leaned forward across the counter. “You’ve captured Boss’ attention, piqued his interest. If you want to act, now would be the time.” he said.

A bag was placed in front of Red. “Are you two distracting my employee?” Grillby asked them.

Both the ketchup and mustard bottles wiggled at Grillby. “no he has been very attentive to us,” Sans said, grinning as he took another sip.

Red grabbed the bag and stepped down from the stool. “Thanks for the grub, Grillby.” He said, smiling at the flame monster. His red eyes, much like his brother’s, found Berry’s. “My brother has always wondered about going somewhere where he can put his guard down for a moment, let himself relax… and he has always wondered what I see in the stars.” Red again winked at him. “Maybe you can teach him. We haven’t been able to…” he said, playing with his tags before teleporting from the bar. Leaving Berry with all sorts of thoughts echoing around in his head.

* * * * *

“… and there! See those three stars all in a row? That’s Orion the hunter! He was placed in the stars by Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt and moon…” Berry explained, pointing to the belt of the hunter.

The night was clear and warm, not a cloud dared trespass on the skies tonight. The moon was shining bright, as if Artemis herself was giving her blessing to the two monsters on the hill, looking up at the jewelled night sky.

“IF SHE LOVED HIM SO MUCH, WHY DID SHE PUT HIM THERE?” Edge asked him, squinting up at the stars, trying to see the pictures that Berry did.

“Her twin brother, Apollo, tricked her into killing him. He challenged her to hit an island with her arrow and it turned out to be Orion. When he died, Artemis, overtaken by the grief of losing him, placed him in the stars so he could watch over the hunt for eternity…” Berry explained, pointing out the rest of the hunter’s body and spear to Edge. “And when her carriage travels the sky, they can be together again…”

“A SAPPY LOVE STORY.” Edge said, his eyes not leaving the shapes of the stars.

“Just a sappy love story,” Berry said. “Perhaps you would better enjoy the story of Leo and the two bears? How they chased each other into the sky?”

There was a rustling next to Berry and a hand took his. “TELL ME MORE… I… I AM ENJOYING MY TIME WITH YOU.” Edge admitted, still looking up at the stars.

Berry gently squeezed Edge’s hand. “I am too… I’m glad you took me up on my offer of a date.”

Edge chuckled. “AS IF RED AND THE OTHER TWO WOULD LET ME LIVE IT DOWN… I’M SURE YOUR BROTHER IS HAPPY THAT YOU ARE OUTSIDE, LETTING HIM HAVE HIS DATE TOO.”

Berry giggled. “I’m sure he appreciates it… so there is Leo the lion’s tail,” he said, using their intertwined hands to point out the string of stars. “This is a story of why so many animals have short tails…”

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ka-za-ri · 7 years

Text

PN 6259-6268 (Ignis x Reader)

EDIT: I’ve been made aware that this fic may crash your app. You can also read it on Ao3 Here!

Alternative Title: Anecdotes and Table Talks Rating: SFW Pairing: Older!Ignis x Reader Genre: Fluff, Slow burn Wordcount: 17,892 Suggested Listening: Rebirth -- 10cm

Notes: Alright friends, BUGGLE UP. WE’RE GOIN’ IN FOR A LONG RIDE. Happy 1,000 posts to me! I’ve been slaving over this for the past two weeks and it’s finally happening. Thank you for all those people who have patiently waited!

Tagging: @roses-and-oceans @hypaalicious @cagedbycravings @desperateauboise @r-e-g-a-l-i-a @sweetchocobae @itshaejinju (idk if I missed anyone??? It’s been like seven years since I tagged)

Books on love could be found on the topmost floor of the citadel library. They're located twenty six paces down the aisle, nestled in between Fine Arts and Science. They were always bound in leather and smelled of freshly plucked camillias and Ebony.

With the return of the sun and the Chosen King, Insomnia began to rebuild itself from the ground up. As far as technology had grown and flourished in the city, it still required manual labor to actually build a city from the charred remains. As the promise of light returned to the world, the overall feeling of hope and rebirth spread itself through the people.

Of course, no one ever said that rebuilding the city to its former glory was going to be easy. There were only a handful of the Crownsguard left, and they struggled to rally people to reclaim the time that was lost to them for the past ten years of darkness.

Slowly, but as sure as the regular rise and fall of the sun, what spirit that was left within the civilians became rekindled. Insomnia woke from it's long slumber. Those who didn't dare to join the Crownsguard's efforts in rebuilding the Citadel focused their efforts on restarting businesses that had been long closed. In the midst of the chaotic revival of light and life, you found yourself comfortably working at a pastry shop, supplying the working masses with a little sweetness and much needed coffee.

It wasn't your ideal job, but it made ends meet; and it was definitely better than running away from daemons on a daily basis. Still, as your world started to reset, you began to miss what had been and the life you once lived. Time had passed and so had many of your friends. As things returned to normal, you couldn't help but yearn for what 'normal' felt like before. Much of what you missed was based on the connections and friendships you once had and the comfortable memories of a life that was long in the past.

When you heard from rumors floating around that your friend in the Crownsguard had survived, you did your best track her down. It was harder to do than you had initially thought it would be. Ten years was a long enough time for people to change drastically. The faces you thought you would never forget had changed so much. You found it hard to recognize anyone, even if they did introduce themselves to you; so when she returned to your life, it came as a bit of a surprise to say the least.

It was a normal weekday at work, nothing out of the ordinary, save for the one customer who didn't quite understand what, “Sorry, we're out of this item already, you'll have to come back tomorrow,” meant. Business ran itself as usual until a whirlwind of energy and joy entered the shop shortly after the lunch rush.

"I need two of your largest and strongest cups of Ebony, black, if you will," she said rather breathlessly, holding up her fingers to emphasize her needs. "The Royal Advisor is cranky and I'd like to stay on his good side if possible."

"Of course. It'll take just a bit," you said while ringing up her order. Something... about her seems familiar... There was a way that she spoke and a way that she carried herself that reminded you of someone you once knew. The more you thought about her while you made the order, the more familiar her features became.

The pieces finally clicked in your head when you slid the two cups across the counter to her. Your eyes met and everything made complete sense the moment she took the cups from you gave you a wink and spoke again.

"Thanks, lil’ Chickadee."

You blinked twice. You didn't think you'd hear that term of endearment again, considering there was only one person who had ever called you that. Narrowing your eyes and tilting your head slightly, you finally recognized her as the person you had been looking for the past few weeks. "Are you...?"

She grinned from ear to ear at your question. "The one and only. I thought you'd never get it. Found out through the grapevine that you worked here and I just had to pay a visit. Well that and you know, had to get my boss some hot bean juice," she said, gesturing to her order. "I gotta get going before these get cold and the boss man gets angry. Catch up with you later though? I can always stop by again and see when you're free."

"Sounds like a plan. Good luck with the boss, he seems like he runs a tight shift."

"You have no idea," she said, flashing you another grin before making her way out of the shop.

You didn't realize how relieving it was to find out that someone else you knew had made it through to the end until you watched her retreating form dash across the front windows. The rest of your day was spent in a slight haze of happiness from that small moment.

Ever since that day at work, you had made it a point to see your friend again as often as possible. A quick exchange of your new phone numbers and a promise to catch up was all it took for you to reconnect with her and feel a little more at home amongst the rebuilding rubble.

To your knowledge, she was the only one of your acquaintances who had survived. Granted, she hadn't come out unscathed. Due to an explosion, she had lost her hearing on her left side, and a great scar was forever branded across her face. However, she was alive, and that was all that mattered to you.

Life was less lonely when she was around, and you could always rely on her lively stories to wash away any of the tiredness you felt in your bones after a long work week. She had suggested that the two of you meet up at least once a week to catch up on the events that had passed while the world was shrouded in darkness.

What was initially intended as a regular meeting to tell stories of what happened to the two of you during the last ten years, usually turned quite depressing too fast for your liking. Thus, your weekly hangouts often ended up with the two of you getting completely drunk off of freedom and wine while swapping horror stories of your workplaces. Not that it really mattered to either of you, it was simply nice to have someone around, listening to your stories without the fear of daemons and death at your door.

"Ugh, we're so understaffed all the time, it’s like no one wants to join the Crownsguard anymore. It's not as glamorous a job as it used to be y'know?" your friend ranted over a shared bottle of wine. "Can you believe it? They've got me, the half deaf person, on the phone trying to talk to any contractors who might have the materials that we might need to rebuild half the Citadel. They took me off that duty when I started answering calls on my left ear and asking people to repeat themselves five times over 'cause I swear if I took another call with my good ear, I might as well go completely deaf."

You couldn't help but let out a laugh at her dismay as she poured herself another glass. "So what did they have you do instead once you were off the phone?"

"Told me I was in charge clearing rubbish from the corridors so that people have access to the other parts of the building. And then, they told me that they put me on cleaning up the library this upcoming week. That's something I'm not looking forward to," she groaned laying her head down on your dining room table and letting out a long whine. "I hate clean up duty the most."

"What's so bad about it?" You had perked up when she had mentioned the library. It had always been a dream of yours to get lost in the floors upon floors of books that were rumored to be held there. "It's not like how hard basic training was for you when you first started, right?"

"I'll take basic training over cleaning up that place any day. It's a royal mess there. I took a peek before leaving just to get an idea and I almost wanted to quit. Books everywhere, some burned, some water damaged, some just... not salvageable anymore. We've gotta go and sort through and reorganize everything again. It's going to be a giant pain in the ass."

"It sounds like heaven," you mumbled softly to yourself, looking at your half filled glass of wine and dreaming of what it would be like to be in the presence of such a grand library. Even in ruins, the thought of being able to work there and organizing tickled your fancy.

"What was that?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing!"

"Oh no, no, no. I heard you say something. Come on, speak up, you know my hearing isn't that great anymore."

"It... just sounds like heaven. You know, sorting, organizing and all of the fun stuff," you repeated sheepishly, unable to look away at your friend.

"Fun? What part of that sounds like fun to you?"

"I don't know... all of it? I like organizing things," you admitted with a small shrug.

"If you could only see the mess that we have to deal with, you'd think otherwise."

"If you could only get me in there to see that mess, I'll be happy to help you get organized."

"That... Can be arranged."

One week later, you were somehow convinced that sneaking into the Citadel on your day off was going to be a good idea. At an hour much too early for your liking, you followed the directions she gave you the day before to find yourself at a part of the ruins that was not heavily guarded. Through a passageway that was almost too small for you to squeeze through, you met up with your friend. She quietly led the way, not trying at all to hide her yawns.

It was to your never ending dismay to see the once grand Citadel in shambles. For the most part, the exterior had been rebuilt quite quickly. Parts of the interior, however, still suffered from major losses. The library was no exception.

It broke your heart to see whole sections of the multi-floored library in disarray. Countless shelves had been knocked over, and orphaned pages from destroyed books littered the ground. What broke your heart even more were the piles upon piles of beat up books that were deemed “a lost cause.” It was the war zone of lost literature that your friend was tasked to work with. You felt your heart ache with sorrow when you picked up a loose page from the ground to see the edges charred and a gaping hole where passages of text used to be. "This is horrible..."

"Told ya. Just, try to blend in or something, most of the people assigned here today are new recruits that we managed to get so no one really knows each other yet."

"I'll try..."

It was common knowledge that the library was home of some of the oldest, rarest and most coveted texts and works of literature. To know that priceless artifacts such as those could have been damaged and were about to be thrown out made you ache with a yearning to help your friend's cause. Something in the back of your mind yelled at you to do something, even if you were basically an intruder in a sacred space.

You knew that if you didn't do something, you would never have another peaceful night's rest having known that so much knowledge could be lost forever. Some of the newer texts might be found and replicated in other continents, but not the older works. To your knowledge, with the last ten years of darkness, there wasn't a cohesive database set up anymore either. "No chance I can spend a few hours here to help you out?" you asked, turning to your friend who was already sifting through a rather large heap of texts in various states of damage.

"I don't see why not. We could always use an extra pair of hands. Don't wanna bother you on your day off though. Figured you'd wanna wander around and read everything in sight."

"It's not a bother if I asked you to bring me here in the first place. And as appealing as sitting in a corner and reading is, you did tell me to blend in. I don't think slacking off counts as fitting in," you said with a shrug. Glancing at the pile of books in front of you, you gingerly picked one up. You almost didn't dare to breathe when you felt the leather binding give slightly and threaten to disintegrate with a less gentle touch.

"Do you have any paper and a pen?" you asked looking around.

"Somewhere around here, yeah check that back desk. What do you plan on doing?" she asked, pointing you in general direction of where the supplies would be.

"What's it look like I'm going to do?" you asked, sitting yourself at the desk, barely breathing when you flipped to the first page of the book. "We'll lose these forever if you just throw them out. Someone's gotta transcribe these."

"You're kidding..."

"I'd rather give it my best shot than have all of these things go to waste. Now leave me alone, I've got work to do," you grumbled, grabbing at the first writing utensil that came to your hands. As far as technology had advanced, there wasn't much that it could do with such a delicate task at hand. With a blank sheet of paper in front of you and your phone at your side to look up references, you went to save what laid within the book you had picked up.

You didn't want to admit that the mission you set yourself with was much harder than you had anticipated. Not only were the pages frail, large passages of text had melted from the pages as the ink had been washed away. Judging from the condition of the first page, it was hard for you to want to go on; however, the subject matter kept pushing you forward.

After much cursing and squinting at your phone screen, you were able to piece together the foreword and Table of Contents. Upon further inspection of your work, you realized it was a book on the history of Eos from the beginning of time. Finding out that the Citadel itself was so close to throwing a text like this out and lose such an important piece of its own history made you want to complete your task even more.

Scribbling down what words you could make out and ambitiously struggling to figure out what was missing, you barely noticed your free day passing you by. It wasn't until your friend approached you with coffee in hand that you noticed the headache that had started to throb behind your eyes from straining them in the dimly lit library.

She picked up the completed pages you had pushed to the side and let out a low whistle at your handiwork. "Wow, I didn't think that you'd get this much out of that ratty old book. I thought it was gone for sure." Squinting slightly, she assessed your handwriting a little further. "Huh, I think you misspelled something there..."

"Wait, what?" you exclaimed, grasping at the page in her hand. She laughed jovially before putting the sheet of paper back on the desk.

"Just kidding," she teased, laughing again at your expression of sheer frustration. "But seriously, you're kind of amazing. I was afraid we'd have to throw out a lot of books like these. Guess they won't have to go to waste after all."

You let out a sheepish laugh. "Yeah, it's not easy though."

"I don't doubt it. Which is why I plan on fully compensating you for your efforts," a voice unfamiliar to you came from behind the two of you and you startled suddenly. Frantically, you grabbed at your phone and attempted to get away; however, a heavy hand on your shoulder stopped you from doing much else. Turning your head slowly, you were greeted by the deep blue gaze of the King himself.

"Uh... Hi?" you squeaked, shying from his grasp; but his hold on your shoulder only tightened. Idiot, that's not how you address the king. He's going to kill me.

"You don't look familiar, and I'd like to think I recognize all of the people that work here."

"I... Uh... Actually don't work here?" you offered, hoping that the truth would lessen whatever punishment that might be met. You sound more and more like an idiot with every second. Get it together.

"Oh? Then you should be well aware that this place isn't open to civilians. How did you get in here?"

The silence that passed seemed to stretch for all eternity, and you glanced pleadingly at your friend for some assistance in your situation. She was frozen in place and just about as terrified of what disciplinary actions the king himself would be handing out. The hand on your shoulder felt too warm, too heavy; and you wished for nothing more at that moment than to disappear somehow.

In your panic and in your attempt to appear heroic, you did the only thing that came to mind and that was to start talking your way out of your situation. "So you see, I mean, I know that this place is off limits and all that but I heard that a lot of books got damaged during the that whole time in the darkness and I honestly couldn't let that go because you know, they're books and they never did anything to anyone. And so I was like well, you gotta go and help them out, y'know? What if they need to be looked after? So I mean, I may have dragged my friend into this and I didn't mean to, it's really all my fault. It's not like I was planning to steal any crown jewels or anything, I just really wanted to help out even if I don't work here and---"

"Would you like to?" Noctis' voice cut into your rambling – at the right time too. You were starting to run out of excuses to make, and you were starting to feel lightheaded from not taking a full breath since the start of your heroic speech. The awkward silence that followed his question felt heavier than his hand on your shoulder.

"Uh...Excuse me?" you blinked rapidly, looking at him to make sure you hadn't imagined what he had said.

"Work. Would you like to work here?" There was a glimmer of mischief in the young king's eyes, and you found yourself answering his question much quicker than you had anticipated.

"By the Six I'd love nothing more. Yes. Yes. A million times yes," you breathed, realizing that you were being offered a chance to work in a job you had only ever dreamed about. Truth be told, with the amount of charisma that he exuded, he could have offered you a job mopping up the floors using only your nose; and you would have readily agreed.

"You're enthusiastic. I like that about you," he said with a soft laugh. "I suppose you won't mind doing all the paperwork for me?" he asked, raising a knowing eyebrow at your mortified friend who had done everything in her power to melt into the floor but to no avail.

"Yes! Of course!" she exclaimed, vigorously saluting and standing at attention.

"Good. You take care of that. Once everything is signed, please be sure that I have everything in my office. Oh and, make sure that you get a uniform before you go as well," he said before finally taking his hand off your shoulder. "You'll start tomorrow, 7:00. I'll have the desk you sat at earlier today set up for you. You seemed comfortable enough there."

"Uh... Yes! 7:00! That's a time! That works! I work!" you squeaked, doing your best to mimic the salute your friend had given. Astrals above, shut your mouth before he regrets his decision right here and now. You're making a fool of yourself.

"I expect nothing more than you to do your work," he said, emphasizing the last word, poking a bit of fun at your fumbling words. "Well, then. I'll leave you to it," he jested, throwing a small mock salute at the two of you before turning and heading off.

You hadn't realized how stiffly you had been standing until you no longer felt the warmth of his hand on your shoulder. Once you saw that he was out of sight and heard the door to a different room click shut, you felt comfortable enough to finally slouch and heave a deep sigh of relief. It was silent for a long while as you listened to the dust settle around you against the backdrop of your heavily hammering heart.

You glanced over at your friend who was still recovering from her state of shock.

"So... That... Happened."

"Yeah, it did. How much do you like paperwork?" she asked, slowly coming out of her stupor and realizing that she had orders to follow.

"Well, I guess I'm about to like it enough to get this job I guess. Where do I start?"

"Follow me. You've got a lot to go through," she said, leading the way to a small room tucked in a back corner.

"Where are we?"

"It's just a storage room. It's the only place we've got set up right now to keep paperwork and stuff for new recruits."

Looking around the tiny space, you noticed floor to ceiling shelves lining one half of the room. The other half let in the fading sunlight through heavily tinted glass which looked out to what appeared to be the gardens, or at least what remained of them. A small table accompanied by a rickety chair was wedged into the corner of the room. With a quick glance, you noticed the shelves were lined with thick binders instead of books. There wasn't a chance for you to get a closer look at their labeling as your friend led you to the table in the corner once she had found what she was looking for.

"Get comfortable," she grunted as she set down a thick binder onto the table and an almost equally thick stack of paper. You startled slightly when you swore you heard the small table groan under the weight of so much paperwork. "This is your basic handbook and guide to your benefits and your job. You'll also need to sign all of those forms, make sure you read them all, there isn't a test at the end, but just read it in case someone does drill you for any reason."

You gaped at the monumental amount of documents in front of you. "All of this?"

"All of it," she said with a solemn nod. "I have to head back to helping the others, you know where to find me. I'll check up on you in a couple hours to make sure you're alive."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Any time. Oh. Light switch is here if it gets too dark for you to read. It should be in working order, if not, just jiggle the switch a bit and that should do the trick," she said before she went off on her way.

You waited until she was out of your line of sight before you turned to the mountain of paperwork in front of you. The binder itself looked to be at least a couple hundred pages alone. Well, it's not going to read itself. You agreed to this... Sighing deeply you opened to the first page and got yourself a good look at what life would be like as an employee of the Crown.

I have every right to be here. I mean, the King himself asked me to work here, but I guess that's not even saying a whole lot? There aren't a whole lot of people working here... They were pretty understaffed, I'm sure he suggested giving this job to me just for more help. That means. I belong here. Right? I signed the paperwork and everything. I feel bad for quitting my other job all of a sudden though. At least my boss understood... I mean, this is the Crown we're talking about… This is going to be a good change. Change is good. This is fine. I'll be fine. I hope I'm fine. Did I button up this uniform all the way up the right way? Do my socks match? Is that something they'll check because I sure didn't.

Your thoughts were moving much faster than your body as you followed your friend on your first official day as Head Archivist. They even gave me a job title, what dream world do I live in, and can I never wake up? Your steps sounded hollow, too loud for the austere palace that you could now call your workplace.

"Nervous?"

"Uh... What makes you think that?" you asked, trying to keep the shaking in your voice down. With the acoustics in the stone corridors, it appeared that trying to hide how badly your voice squeaked and shook wasn't possible seeing as the walls seemed to echo and amplify all noises. Out of sheer habit and the need to do something with your jitters, you idly plucked at the decorative buttons at your sleeves while the corridor you walked in seemed to stretch for miles. I swear, this place didn't feel this big when I snuck in...

"You'll do fine. I mean, what's the worst that could happen?"

"They could behead me for slander if I misspell the name of an ancient king in a language that I don't understand. They could burn me at the stake for making too many mistakes in punctuation, you know I'm not good at that. But I guess I'll be transcribing things, so really, it would be up to the author of the original text to have good grammar, so I guess that's not my fault. Except I guess when it gets to the parts that I might have to make up. Yeah, then they'll just stab me in the face for being an incompe---"

"Stop. You're going to be fine. You haven't even started working yet and you're trying to figure out a way to get out of it?" she clapped her hand onto your shoulder and looked you squarely. "If the king's impressed, then I'm convinced that you'll do fine."

"That's what yo--"

"Enough. It is way too early for one of your rambling speeches."

You sighed and took a deep breath, trying to still the rampant thoughts of self destruction from intruding again. "Right. Work. I can do this. I did it yesterday, I can do it again today," you stated, trying to gain some semblance of confidence.

"Exactly, see? No big deal," she let out a warm laugh before heading back in the direction of the library with you only a few steps behind.

Again, your heart seized up at the ruin before you. The smell of old pages mingled with smoke and gunpowder; and you wondered vaguely if the library would ever return to just smelling like leather, ink and aged parchment. At least this time, I'm allowed to do something about it.

The desk you had used the day before had been set up quite nicely. This time, instead of having to rely on your phone to look up references, the desk you would call your own had been equipped with a computer and a pair of monitors to work on. You let out an internal sigh of relief when you saw it, realizing that you didn't have to strain your eyes anymore from staring a your tiny phone screen.

"I guess this is my home now," you murmured, setting your things down to get a better look at everything that had been set up. "At least I don't think I have to go through basic training..."

"No, but looks like you're in charge of all of these," Your friend said, pushing a cart filled with books over to you.

"Please tell me I don't have to do all of that today," you whispered.

"I don't think you do, but you know how I said we're understaffed?"

"Y-yeah..."

"Expect lots more to come your way." she sang as she skipped off to get started on her own duties.

You sighed as you settled into the chair at your desk. Tucking your belongings under it, you took a good look at everything in front of you and realized that no one had bothered to give you any sort of indication of your regular duties and what sort of quota you were supposed to meet in day. Gods, they're so understaffed they can't even train new people... A feeling of dread filled you as you reached for the first book you had worked on just the day before. "Well, it's not going to transcribe itself..." you murmured, pulling out a sheet of paper and turning the computer on.

It was then that you realized you were an overenthusiastic and short sighted person. The monitors flickered to life after a brief moment of the computer booting up. Once it had completed its start up phase, you were greeted with a digital copy of a training manual and employee handbook.

"Shouldn't have doubted the Crown..." you said, clicking the documents open to get accustomed to your new job. This is going to be a long day...

Loving books and the worlds of knowledge and wonder they held could only bring you so far. The rest of your fate was painstakingly built on your personal tenacity and determination.

Within your first few days, you realized that your title of Head Archivist meant more than "go transcribe all these books." It also meant you were literally in charge of the whole library and its contents along with implementing a classification system. You were bombarded with questions from new and old recruits alike who were tasked with restoring the library to its former glory. Doing your best, you answered their inquiries with the limited resources you had at hand and with what basic knowledge of how a library was supposed to be organized. Of course, no one had told you that you were responsible for any of this when you started. Then again, you doubted that anyone actually knew what went into taking care of a place like the library.

The first week went as you had initially imagined. You spent your hours looking through salvageable texts and transcribing them into your computer while scouring through what online resources were up and running to see if books could be replaced or if the text was already available digitally. Anything you couldn't find, you assumed was lost forever and needed to be transcribed. Though most nights you left mentally drained and with an aching back, you also felt a sense of relief that you were actually being of some use. You couldn't have asked for a more rewarding job than what you had at that moment.

Of course, when life plays itself out too well, something unplanned was bound to happen just as you started to get into a routine. A week and a half into your new position, all the help you had previously with sorting, cleaning and rebuilding the library had all but vanished. Any extra help had been reallocated to other parts of the castle in worse repair. Thus, ten days into your new life under the Crown, you came in to be greeted by an empty library and a note that detailed your duties, seeing as the library was now your domain.

"This has to be done in three months... on my own?" you could hardly believe your eyes. The list was short. In fact, it only had one task for you to complete. Even if it was only one thing for you to do, you wondered how in the Astrals' names you were going to complete it on your own. "Organize and shelve everything? Do they expect me to live here?" you asked incredulously.

You asked for this. You said it would be heaven to get to organize everything. Guess what. Looks like you're about to die and go to heaven.

You sighed at your foolishness, wondering if your friend had any sort of hand in this cruel outcome. Either way, books were not going to organize themselves and you had much to do. There had to be thousands of books that were still in an acceptable and shelvable condition to sift through. To your luck, the whole inventory of books had already been categorized into broad subjects. At least that was enough of a start for you to figure out what you needed to do.

Your next order was to further categorize and give everything a home in the newly built floors and shelves of the library. Even as someone who grew up in Insomnia, it still amazed you how fast things could get done with the magic of technology. Apparently though, it wasn't good enough to get the library reshelved. Well, no one else is here to do it. Time to get to work.

You hadn’t lied when you said that you enjoyed organizing and sorting. As a hobby, it let you reach a sort of calm despite the chaos around you. At work, it let you see exactly what the library had to offer, and it gave you an idea of where everything should go.

You started with the most general subjects and references by putting similar topics together and then going through again to alphabetize by the name of the author or publisher. You kept your phone with you at all times to digitally keep track of an individualized number you gave each book which you would then scribe in tiny letters on the back cover of each book for reference. As terrifying as marring ancient, priceless texts were, you were more afraid of not knowing it existed without some sort of reference number to go by.

The job was tedious, slow, back breaking, and at times, mind numbing; but you were determined to see it through to the end which caused you to probably spend more time at work than you did sleeping. However, with a deadline of only three months, you had to be diligent. As tiresome as your job could be, you still felt a sense of pride when the first two sections were completely processed after the first week. After spending some time calculating the estimated number of books in the library, you were on track to finish your task at hand as long as a couple of extra hours went into your work instead of sleeping that is.

The days melted into each other as you fell into a routine of sorting, categorizing, listing and organizing the books into neat piles that would be ready to be shelved. At some point, you were so delirious in your obsession with organizing, you were sure you had cursed out your friend who had come in during a slow day to help you. There was a controlling, neurotic side of you that came out when you were invested in your work. From that one brief interaction, she had understood quite clearly that the easiest way to help you was to supply you with your favorite coffee at regular intervals during the day.

You weren't sure if you were really alive by the time you were three quarters of the way done with shelving everything. There had been days where you hadn't gone home and opted to just sleep on the ground so that you didn't have to bother taking the time to commute to work. You didn't want to admit how many times you had done it, but your deadline was fast approaching; and you really didn't know how to ask for help. The library morphed into something more than just your workplace. It truly became your home and in a twisted sense, your sanctuary where you could be alone and lost in your work.

There were days near the end of your allotted months when your hand would cramp and your pen would slip, and you wondered if you were going to make it to your deadline on time. All it took for you to keep going and pushing past the pain though was to glance up at all that you had already done. You were so close to your end goal. With only a week left, there were only three sections left on the floor that were in a chaotic pile. The rest of the sections had all been neatly stacked and were ready to be shelved. You almost cried in relief when it finally hit you on the last week that you were almost done.

You actually did cry when you saw Noctis walk into the library, three days before your due date, to take a look at your work. You weren't ready to show him what you had done. Your job hadn't been completed. In fact, you were running behind schedule. Somewhere along the line, your calculations had been skewed. The tight time line you had convinced yourself would be accurate had failed you; so when the King himself came to check on your failures, you did your best to hide your personal disappointment.

"You did all this yourself?"

"No... One else was here to help. They're helping with other places. So I did it myself. It’s what you asked me to do, right?"

"How much is left?"

"Just those... I only have a few days left before the deadline that you gave me so I really have to get back to work..." you mumbled, looking at the floor and trying your best to still your dominant hand that twitched in pain from being overworked and writing tiny little numbers for days on end. You knew that if you looked up and saw his expression of disappointment that you weren't finished with your job that it would be all over for you. You'd be out of the job that you had barely started, and he'd find someone better to replace you.

"Go home," Noctis stated plainly.

"Eh?" You looked up in shock, letting his words sink in when your worst fears were becoming a reality. "B-but."

"I'll have others come in and finish your work. For now, go home. Get some rest. You look like death. I'll have someone else finish the rest and take care of it."

"But, I have to go and make sure they're numbered and marked and that they're referenced. I've been organizing everything for so long, what if they mess up? What if it's in a different order? Do they even know what kind of order I've been putting ev---"

"Enough. It’s too early for a speech from you. You need rest more than anything right now. We'll work out the logistics of everything later. I'd rather have you sane and at work than what you are right now." He gently placed his hand on your shoulder. "You did a great job. Much better than expected. Just take the next few days off and come back on Monday looking a little more like a human, okay?"

"Y-yes, sir!"

You heaved a great sigh which let the floodgates of your tears open. You weren't sure what emotion you felt as you choked out loud sobs in front of your King, but it didn't quite matter to you. You had been praised for what you had done in silence for the last three months, and it was all the validation you needed.

Lack of sleep hit you like a pile of bricks the moment you returned home for the first time in days, and you fell face first into your bed. You barely had the energy to take off your shoes and uniform before your head hit your pillow, and you promptly floated off into a deep slumber. Rest had never felt more rewarding.

On your return to work on Monday, you learned that you should have never doubted the ability of the Crown. Not only had everything that you had left been taken care of, but they were shelved as well. You rushed to the last few sections you had no hand in and you were stunned, to say the least, when you saw that everything you had been processed and neatly shelved as you had imagined. You felt tears of gratitude prick at the corners of your eyes when you realized that whoever had taken over had also arranged everything according to the system you had used. How they were able to do it without actually getting into your phone and going through your notes you didn't know, nor did you care.

You pulled out a book from the end of the shelf and opened it to the back cover. There, in tiny black ink letters, was a number unique to the book in your hand that followed the classification system you had used. Whoever had been in charge of your project in the last few days was a master detective, and you were forever grateful for it. Not only were you rested, you were allowed to focus on the duty that you had been hired to do.

Making your way back to your desk, you were greeted with a neat stack of papers. Glancing through them, you breathed a deep sigh of relief when you saw that it was a similar table to the one you had on your phone assigning books to their respective numbers. "Amazing..." you murmured to yourself as you set your things on your desk and sat down to look at everything in front of you in further detail. "How did they manage..."

"It wasn't hard, you're just really good at organizing. You weren't kidding when you said, 'Thought it'd be fun,' huh." You glanced up to see your friend had dropped in. She grinned and slid a large cup of coffee your way. "Took us almost no time at all to get everything up and shelved."

"You guys are amazing."

"Us? Nah, you did most of it, we just put things away," she explained with a giggle. "Well. I'm here to let you know that you're basically in charge of this place from here on out. There may be a few new recruits to help keep everything neat and tidy, but this is your home now."

".... King's orders?" you asked, looking up at her and hoping she was actually joking with you. You had initially accepted your job as a chance to restore old texts. The huge responsibility of maintaining the Citadel Library was not something you had signed up for.

"King's orders," she confirmed with a nod. "I mean, it makes sense right? You've gone through basically every book in here and you know where they go. For crying out loud, you're the one who made up this crazy classification system too. You're kind of perfect for the job?"

You let out a small whine, realizing how right she was. "Well, it's better than my last job..."

"That's the attitude! Now, get back to work! I'm sure you've got lots to do."

"I do? What makes you think that?" you asked, gesturing to your desk which was already getting inundated with paperwork and surrounded by books you had yet to transcribe. You didn't even want to think about the periodicals or journals that you would have to process later. Things had to be done one step at a time, and uploading your notes from your phone into a searchable database was the first order of business.

It would take a while for all of your files to transfer from your phone to your computer, so you spent most of your first day back taking the time to memorize where everything was in the event that someone needed a book in the immediate future. The day went by much quicker than you had expected while you wandered the quiet shelves. The library was truly a work of art and you couldn't help but feel pride bubbling from within your chest knowing that you had a hand in making it as beautiful as it was.

It only took you three days to confidently say you knew where everything belonged, and you could easily direct anyone to the section they might have needed. However, it took you much too long to find out that even if you had memorized the location of every book in the vast library, you couldn't help Ignis Scientia.

"Pardon the intrusion, but the geography section?" a cool, accented voice broke through your concentration as you frantically worked on transcribing a passage in a battered book. Now that the library was officially open and the citadel had basically returned to most of its former glory, people interrupting your actual archival work had become a frequent nuisance to you.

"Second staircase to the left, go up one floor, it'll be near the front. G Section. It's in the first quarter of the floor, what's the subclass?" you asked, not looking up from the current page you were working on.

"Pardon?"

"You can't expect to go and read through the whole geography section. I need specifics. Mathematical geography, Cartography, physical geography, oceanography, anthropology, all of those things are there, oh yeah, and general Manners and customs too. So, if you're looking for something, please be specific," you rambled and squinted at the passage in front of you. "And what in the Astral's names is this supposed to be..."

"I suppose I'm specifically looking for books on the kingdoms and territories that are invited to the upcoming ball once the Citadel is in a presentable condition. From your description, it would appear that I'm in need of texts regarding physical geography."

"And from what you're telling me, I'm going to tell you that you'll want to go to books on anthropogeography," you huffed, deleting what you had transcribed into your computer and stared at the text a bit longer before having to rewrite the word as it had been earlier. "Knowing where these territories are isn't going to help you deal with the people from there any better. Still, second floor, G Section, you'll be looking in GF, so that'll be five aisles down. Books in that subject start about three quarters of the way in."

"Thank you for correcting me, I appreciate your expertise."

"Uh huh..." you mumbled, flipping the page you were working on and sighing in relief when you saw that most of the text had been preserved. You waited to hear the retreating steps of the person in front of you so you could get back to work without any interruptions. However, when you were a few lines in, you noticed that he still hadn't moved.

"Is there anything else I can hel--" You stopped mid sentence when you looked up and saw his face. You were forever grateful that few people were around to hear the undignified screech that came from your lips.

The man in front of you was none other than the Royal Advisor to the king, Ignis Scientia. He was unmistakable with his distinctively scarred face. Even if you had never been formally introduced, you had seen his profile a few times from a distance and heard stories of him from your friend to know that you had royally messed up and made a fool of yourself.

Now that you had a chance to see him up close, you noticed how striking and handsome he still was despite the scars he wore. If you had been any less panicked, you would have probably thought they actually accentuated his features even further with how confidently he carried himself. Though, as you were in that moment, you were mentally kicking yourself for your flippant behavior and instantly started stammering apologies to him.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know how I was talking to. I’m so sorry. I’m so bad at paying attention. Though that really isn’t a good excuse. It is kind of my job to take care of everyone and I’m so sorry I’m doing a bad job of taking care of you. I’m sorry… What can I do for you?”

At your frantic stuttering, he only raised an eyebrow and quirked the smallest of smiles. "If you wouldn't mind, I would very much appreciate it if you could lead the way. Forgive me, I'm not quite familiar with the new classification system that's been implemented."

"Uh... Yeah, right this way. Follow me," you squeaked, stumbling out of your chair and scrambling to gather the last pieces of your dignity.

"Lead the way."

The sound of your heart hammering at your chest muffled out the sounds around you as you numbly led him through the library. You made a point to drive your heel into the floor a little heavier so that your footsteps were louder making it easier for him to follow you. After a few times doing it though, you realized you were only making a fool of yourself, and your footsteps just sounded overly crass and crude. You went back to walking as you normally did though your mind raced with doubt and worry.

Is this okay? Can he follow me? How IS he following me? I can't believe it, only a few months into this job, and I've disgraced myself in front of the right hand man of the King. I guess I can get back to my desk to expect a pink slip and a request to move all of my stuff by tomorrow... I guess it was fun while it lasted? I hope I don't get fired, Astrals above, please don't let me get fired.

You were so lost in your thoughts, you had almost walked right past the section you were supposed to be leading him to in the first place. Stopping dead in your tracks, you back pedaled a step and a half before feeling yourself bump into the man behind you. You startled when you felt his arms come up to your waist make sure you didn't fall over. Oh great, like I needed to give them more reason to fire me. "Sorry, I uh.. miscounted the shelves.... Uh... So... We're here," you squeaked, pushing yourself away from him once you had found your balance.

"I'm impressed," he commented, running his hand against the corner of the shelf, trying to find some sort of defining feature to it so he could reference it again in the future.

"Huh?"

"You seem to know the location of everything in here. It's quite a large library. To have memorized so much in a short time, it's rather impressive."

"It's all I'm really good at," you explained with a shrug, leading him into the aisle to where the section started. "That and I mean, I did organize everything so it kind of comes with the job and all." You tried to sound nonchalant; however, it was rare that you received praise for your work. Coming from someone as high ranking as Ignis, it meant the whole world to you. You made note to keep his comment tucked away in the back of your mind for a time when you had doubts about yourself.

"And what would you suggest for reading? I'm sure there's a great number of titles that you could recommend."

He asked a question you could answer with confidence, and whatever apprehension you had felt previously was quickly shoved to the side when you were able to be in your element. "Well, for sure you'll want this one. It's brief, but pretty comprehensive. Got lots of good overall talking points and notes that you can take." You explained, handing him a rather slim book on the history and customs of the people of Eos. "Let's see... What else would work... This one's not bad. Oh, and this one too! Well, if you're going to read part one, might as well get parts two and three, right?" your babbling continued as you pulled book after book out of the shelves to place into his hands.

It wasn't long before Ignis had to clear his throat when you had pulled the seventh suggested book out from the shelves. "I think... this will do to start."

"Uh... Oh, right. Oh... by the Six, I'm so sorry. I made you carry all of these," you breathed, hurriedly snatching all the books from him. "I'll go and get these checked out for you, let me know if you need anything else?"

"No chance that there's an audio or braille edition I may be able to obtain at this time?"

You stopped dead, realizing you had shoved several books to this man with complete disregard of whether or not he would be able to actually make use of the materials you had provided him. Your mind raced, trying to figure out what could be done only to realize that there wasn't anything that was in your abilities to do so.

"The audio book database isn't fully operational yet... I... I'm still working on that... My main priority right now is getting everything archived. Accessibility isn't quite available at this time. I'm sorry," you explained, trying to retain some sort of professional tone, though your stuttering didn't make you sound very convincing.

"Ah, well, that's a shame. I look forward to the fruits of your hard labor. I've heard many praises about your diligent work. Your abilities are quite an asset to us. But for now, just the first book you suggested to me will be fine."

"But there's no audiobook available right now."

"I'll make do."

Reluctantly, you reshelved the additional books you had pulled and took the long walk of shame back to the front of the library to check out the book. "Since it's a loan within the building, there isn't a due date, but just make sure to bring it back in case someone else needs it," you explained, trying your best to keep the shaking out of your voice.

"I'll be sure that I make good use of my time with it," Ignis said, the smallest smile playing on his lips as he took the book from you and made his way out.

Once you could no longer hear his footsteps in the distance, you let out the breath you were holding before you hobbled back to your desk. You hadn't expected your legs to feel as weak as they did; but with the way everything had played out, you were left breathless and panicked at how much work you had left to do.

I'm only human. I can't do all of this on my own.

Weeks passed since your fateful meeting with Ignis, and you blissfully fell back into your routine at work. You took breaks in between transcribing books and researching how to set up an audiobook database to help Ignis' cause. Knowing his position, he'd be back in the library more often after the event that was happening in the next few days. Where the rest of the castle was filled with hustle and chaos to get everything ready, you were granted reprieve seeing as your job was to be the guardian of a quiet sanctuary. Instead of having to rush around, you were happily in your own space preserving texts and being surrounded by what you loved.

Of course, the fates were cruel and loved to play with those who were content.

A soft tap on your desk jolted you away from your work, and you were greeted with Ignis and a rather intimidating stack of envelopes. "Ah, pardon the intrusion, but do you think you could assist me?"

You paused to quickly save your document on your computer and hastily shuffled your work to the side so that he could have room for whatever it was he needed to do. "Uh... Sure? What do I need to help you with?"

"So, as you know, there's an event in a few days."

"Well, you'd have to be living under a rock to not know about it."

"Correct, well, it's in our lack of foresight that we haven't provided our invited guests with any sort of thank you letter for taking the time to attend. It's to our luck that most of the letters have already been prepared; however, we haven't had a chance to address it to anyone. Unfortunately, that task has fallen onto me."

"You. They couldn't have found anyone better to do the job?"

"Unfortunately, in the rush to complete all of the things Noctis has planned, things are a bit hectic. I'm ashamed to admit that I had missed such an important detail."

You could hardly believe your ears when you heard that Ignis Scientia, the ever impeccable and immaculately calculated strategist to the King had overlooked something. Though, considering the circumstances, it was completely understandable that something could have been missed.

"Do you have a list of the guests? I'll be happy to address them for you."

"I do."

"Great, you can just leave the letters on my desk and I'll have them done by the end of the night."

He did as you had asked him to, placing the stack of envelops on your desk. However, he didn't make any additional moves to get back to the rest of his duties, nor did he present to you any sort of list. Instead, he shifted ever so slightly to pull a nearby chair to your desk. Sitting down in it, he placed his elbows on your desk and stared at you. Though you knew he couldn't see you, you could feel the weight of his gaze from behind the tinted glasses he wore.

"Uh... Sir I--"

"Ignis, will just be fine."

"Ignis... Uh... the list? Can I have it?"

"I have it right here," he said, a smile playing on his lips as his finger tapped at his head. "It's really not much use to me carrying around a scrap of paper I can't read."

You let out a nervous laugh, once again internally kicking yourself for being an idiot. Get it together, and act like a normal human. "Uh... so I guess where do we start?"

"Let's see, we should start with those who are arriving from Leide. I do believe several ambassadors of Gladin Quay will be making an attendance."

You nodded, picking up your pen and following his orders. He spoke with an easy cadence. Not too fast so that you had time to write down the names and territories that he named, but not too slow that it sounded like he was patronizing you. Though the stack of envelopes seemed intimidating at first, his voice was soothing and made time fly by between the two of you. Every now and then he'd add an interesting anecdote about the attendees which made the normally tedious task a bit more interesting.

"Hmm.. the last invited attendee would be the royal house of Frelia. They've announced that they will be sending their own crowned princes to the event."

You let out a low whistle at the mention of royalty. "Wow, all the way from Frelia? Magvel is rather far from here," you murmured while writing down the name of the house and the prince's name.

"Yes, but their support to us in the last ten years was integral in our survival. Take what you will from this, but the prince who is attending took to the battlefield himself and refused to surrender to Niflheim forces."

"Hah, he's as they say. Frelian's don't know the meaning of surrender."

Ignis let out a low chuckle at your comment. "Indeed they don't," he concurred. "That is the last of the correspondences that we must address. I presume there aren't any blank letters left?."

"All of them are addressed and ready," you said, rearranging the stack neatly and handing the envelopes back to him.

"I appreciate your patience and understanding of my situation. I do apologize for having bothered you."

"It wasn't a bother at all. Though, now that you mention it... you could have asked anyone else in this whole building to do this and they would have dropped their work to help you. So why did you decide on me?"

A smile graced his lips as he leaned in closer to you and reached out to pat your head gently. "The reasoning is simple. The space you've made here is welcoming and quiet, I found it ideal for what I wanted to do." He paused to simply take a moment to stroke your hair. "But also, I don't think you realize how pleasant and welcoming your company is," he said before fluidly picking up the stack of envelops and making his leave.

"And you don't realize just how charismatic you are..." you whispered breathlessly after you watched him leave the library. For the rest of the day, you got little work done as you could not stop playing with your hair and being reminded of his small gesture of praise.

Books were a solitary haven that you retreated to when the world was too chaotic. However, as long as you had lived, you never considered how comfortable sharing that safe haven could be.

Though you worked in the same building as your friend, your schedules and duties rarely allowed for you to have any meaningful time together. Being absorbed in your work as you were, you realized how difficult it was for you to really make acquaintances at your workplace. Most days you didn't see the sun; and when you did, it was through the heavily tinted glass of the tiny back room where you had first signed your life away to serve the Crown.

Since the tiny room was still reserved for storage after the renovations, it was rarely visited by anyone and was a perfect place for you to destress. The shelves were filled with paperwork that was almost never needed; and the tinted glass kept it cool, even during the summer months. Almost daily, you brought your lunch there to enjoy in the still quiet of the back room.

Loneliness didn't bother you considering you regularly engaged with people who passed by your desk to ask questions or make small talk. Quite frankly, you actually preferred to be left alone to your own devices most of the time. Lunch by yourself came as a welcome break away from people and a chance for you to read through a book you had been itching to get to ever since you had last shelved it. It was a pleasant, quiet hour to yourself that you appreciated and needed to make it through your day.

It was during one of those happy, quite lunch breaks when you were interrupted by someone who didn’t seem to care much about invading your personal space. You were too engrossed in your book to have noticed someone had come into your little sanctuary. You practically jumped out of your skin when you felt the gentle brush of someone's hand across your back while you were pouring over the book in front of you. You let out an offensively loud screech at the sudden touch and promptly fell out of your chair in your attempt to get away.

"I sincerely apologize if I had interrupted something. I didn't realize that there might be another person here."

"Ignis?"

"Yes. That would be my name."

You groaned slightly, getting up from the ground and dusting yourself off a bit. You let out an awkward cough and couldn't bare to look up at the man in front of you from sheer embarrassment. Considering your first meeting with him had started in a similar fashion, you wondered if he thought it was routine for you to scream at him any time he appeared. "Uh... Sorry... I didn't notice you coming in... Not that it matters because you know, it's a public space and all so you really didn't have to announce yourself coming in or anything so you know, it's okay if you just do that, i just didn't hear you and that's my fault for not no---"

"That's enough. As I said, I didn't expect anyone to be here."

"Oh... Okay. Yeah, sorry about that. So uh, did you need paperwork or something?"

"Actually, I was just coming here since I recalled it being a rather peaceful place for reflection. I suppose you thought the same?"

"Uh... Yeah. I'll leave now if you want to be alone. My lunch break's almost over anyways." You hurriedly started to pack up your belongings, which had thankfully stayed on the table from when you had gracelessly fallen out of your chair.

"You don't have to relocated on my account. I don't mind sharing the space," he said, casually leaning against the shelves.

Though you knew he couldn't see you, you could still feel his gaze and it made you uncomfortable to say the least. Any movement you made seemed to be under extreme scrutiny, and you wanted to do nothing more than to disappear at that moment so the tension between the two of you could also go away. "Sorry..." you mumbled.

"What for?"

"Uh...." Your excuses seemed futile and anything that came to mind only seemed childish to you. As such, anything of substance you could have said simply died at your lips and lingered in the room as a stagnant silence.

"I'll take your silence as meaning you don't have anything to really be apologetic for," he said, a hint of amusement and the barest trace of a smirk on his lips. "As I said, I don't mind sharing the space with you, that is, as long as you don't mind."

"No... not at all, make yourself at home."

You watched as he got acquainted with the space around him. His hands running along the shelves and his surroundings. He made a quick once over of the shelves, taking note of all the binders and stacks of paperwork there. He paused when his hands brushed over your half eaten lunch and the book that had been left there before he had come in.

"Lunch? Alone?"

"Most of the time..." you admitted with a small shrug.

"What's the book about?"

"Oh, it's not much. I was reshelving the Literature section the other day and just happened on some Folk poetry. I haven't had a chance to read a lot in a while so, I just kinda picked a book I haven't read and went at it. You know, acquaint myself with the goods that I curate, stuff like that.... That's a lie, It's just something to pass the time when I don't have anything to do at lunch."

"Would you mind?" he asked, handing the book to you.

"Huh?"

"Read it to me, the subject matter is rather intriguing and I'm not very familiar with it. I'd like to know more."

"I can get it on audiobook if you'd like," you offered, trying your best to avoid having to do what he asked of you.

"I'd like to think that your voice is much better suited to this than that dreadful automated voice."

"I'm really not the best person to ask to do this"

"I think I'm very capable of being the judge of whether or not you're adept at this. If you would be so kind to indulge me. You see, these eyes of mine aren't the best."

"I... I'm sorry."

"You're apologizing again when there isn't a reason to."

"I... I'm sorry, it's all I can really say."

He let out a low chuckle and pushed the book in your hand. "Read it for me? If you please?"

Whatever apologies you had come up with in your mind instantly vanished when the book was in your hands. You could still feel the warmth of the sun and his hands on the leather cover. "If... If you don't mind..." your voice came out as barely a whisper when you opened to the last page you remember being on. "Did you want to start from the beginning?"

"That would be nice," he said, leaning against the shelves again. "Please, make yourself comfortable as you read. Don't mind me. I've been sitting all day."

"Oh... Okay." You flipped back to the beginning of the book and started to recite the first piece of in the book.

For a bit, time stood still for the two of you in the tiny, cramped room. Filtered sunlight came through the windows, giving you just the right amount of light to read by. The syllables fell from your lips easily since you had read the words before. You could feel your cadence slipping every now and then when you struggled to pronounce something you were only familiar with in writing. Ignis didn't seem to mind whenever that happened though. He'd patiently wait for you to finish stumbling before giving you a small nod to continue.

It wasn't until you were several passages into a rather long and episodic series of poems that you realized how long you had been there. You mentally kicked yourself when you noticed how far the sun had fallen past its midday point. "I... I have to get back to work," you said, pushing the book back in his hands.

"What a shame. I was quite enjoying my time here. Perhaps, you could continue tomorrow?"

"I... Uh... Yeah... yeah. I can do that. I mean, if that's okay with you."

"I'm asking you to continue, why wouldn't it be okay with me?"

"Oh... right. I... I guess same place tomorrow?" you asked while you packed up your half eaten lunch and moved past him to get back to your desk.

"That would be ideal. Let's make it a regular thing," he suggested. "I rather enjoy your company. Your voice is rather soothing," he said, his rather composed and nonchalant demeanor at this whole arrangement to spend time with you made you rather flustered, to say the least.

"Yeah... sure. That... sounds fine," you mumbled, scurrying out of the door and back to your desk lest he could sense how much you were blushing. "I'll.. see you tomorrow then."

"I look forward to it."

You were definitively late coming back from your lunch break. However, you didn't mind that fact at all.

Books on appreciating the help that surrounded you were tucked right in the back corner, half a shelf past where books on Geography were kept. Hidden there, whole novels about the time when you discovered a much deeper appreciation for the low timbre and measured cadence in Ignis' voice.

You stared incredulously at the new shipment of books that had been ordered specifically for Ignis' use. They had taken so long to come in that you had almost forgotten about them. By his request, they were to be shelved separately or brought to his personal study. It was strange to you for books to be so tactile. The Braille created constellations of words you couldn't understand, and that fact frustrated you. You were used to being able to comprehend the things that came to your possession.

There were no words for you to read. They were to be felt, and you couldn't understand any of it. Searching online for an alphabet, you struggled to learn the new language in order to get some semblance of organization done on the shelf that had been set up for Ignis. Three hours later, along with lots of frustrated crying, you were no where near close to deciphering the texts in front of you.

"Is something the matter?"

Of course, the one person who you didn't want to see appears to ask you if you were alright. Of course Ignis had to appear right as you were feeling completely useless to prod at your broken pride.

"Fine. Yeah. I'm fine," you muttered, sniffling and unceremoniously wiping your nose on your sleeve. "Just a head cold."

"A head cold causes you to cry at work?"

"...I--"

"You're a horrible liar."

"I know," you mumbled, hanging your head and twiddling your thumbs.

"Mind telling me what's got you so worked up then that you're in tears?" he asked.

"I don't... I can't... By the Six, this embarrassing. Just... Never mind," you grumbled, burying your head in your hands. "Forget it. Just, come back later. I'll figure something out."

"Figure what out?"

"Don't worry about it, it's my job."

"Well then, should I help?"

"What? No! Why? You're the reason why I'm in this position in the first place," you blurted out in sheer frustration, choosing to ignore the strange look he gave you. "I can't understand anything that your new books say. I can't organize anything, they all look the same to me, and anything I'm trying to find online doesn't give me enough information to figure out what I'm doing. I have no idea where the packing slip went because I didn't actually unpack everything and now I'm here with a whole shipment of books to organize and no way to organize them when my job is to organize. Do you know how frustrating that is?"

By the time you had finished your rant, you were out of breath and your ears were ringing. You hadn't realized how loud you were until the silence of the library returned, and the ringing in your ears became louder than your shallow breaths. Now that your tirade was over, your frustration had drained out of you; and you were left with the hollow feeling of dread when you realized you had just vented to the very person you were trying to help out.

There were several outcomes that you expected to come from him. He could turn away and let you continue to struggle with your task; he could tell you to get out and fire you on the spot; or he could simply sigh in disappointement at your childishness before telling you to get over yourself and get back to work. To your surprise, he did none of these things. Instead, he simply walked over to where you had the books scattered across your desk and picked one up.

He brushed his fingers across the cover to effortlessly read the symbols you had been struggling with and handed it to you after a brief moment. "Sacred Texts of Eos."

"Sacred texts...?" you repeated, taking the book from him and staring at the cover briefly before realizing what he was doing. "Got it," you said your mood instantly being lifted now that you had an idea of what was what. Scribbling down the information he had given you and hastily making a brief note on the back cover. "Next?"

"Preservation, Restoration, and Conservation of Antiquities," he stated, handing you another book and you repeated the process of notating the title and putting a note in the back cover for future reference.

"Uh huh. Next?"

"Toxicology and the Study of Poisons."

"Wow, you've got quite the variety subjects in your personal collection, Mr. Scientia..."

"It's always good to be prepared," he stated, handing you the book and raising an eyebrow. "One never knows when this kind of knowledge will be useful."

"Point taken," you said, noting the book and starting separate stacks for when you were ready to shelve everything.

The process continued until the chaotic pile you had fretted for hours over was converted to neat stacks and several pages worth of notes over the course of a few hours. You made quick mental notes of which books and piles would be shelved and which ones would later be delivered directly to Ignis' personal study.

"Last one?" you asked, looking up at Ignis and noticing that there weren't any more more books to be sorted on your desk.

"Last one," he confirmed, handing it to you.

"Title?"

"Folk Poetry and the Astrals."

You looked fondly at the cover of the book. Though the braille symbols meant nothing to you, it still reminded you of lunch breaks in a tiny storage room where you would read to Ignis for an hour when the world stood still.

"Had to get your own copy?"

"I will admit I am rather fond of the works that were collected for this anthology."

You let out a soft laugh and ran your fingers across the cover of the book as he had done. The raised symbols connected to nothing in your brain and again, you were overcome with a sense of frustration. "How do you do it..." you murmured, caressing the braille over and over again, trying to will some sort of divine knowledge to come and let you understand what it was that you were feeling.

"Do what?"

"Understand all of this... It makes no sense to me, and you're standing there, casually just reading things off."

"Years of practice helps."

"I can imagine," you murmured. "Hey... sorry about earlier... I yelled at you for no reason."

Ignis let out a low chuckle and gently patted you on the head. "Again, you apologize for something that doesn't need an apology. I felt similarly when I first learned as well. It's admirable that you attempted what you did on your own."

"I got frustrated after a couple of hours, I can't imagine how you felt."

"I was lucky that I had people around me that supported me despite my short comings."

You quietly nodded, looked at the book in your hands and rubbed the cover trying to connect the dots from what he had read to what was on the cover. "Hey, how are you supposed to read this? I can barely make heads or tails of it," you said, flipping through the pages of the book in your hand and marveling at how it had the same contents as the book you had been reading with him during your lunch breaks but with none of the symbols you were used to.

"Here, let me show you," he said, stepping forward pulling you close against him while reaching out and taking your hand into his. He curled his fingers around yours, leaving only your pointer finger and his out. Running along the top of the page, your fingers brushed against the raised symbols and his soothing voice read out their meaning to you.

"So, you already know the title," he explained softly into your ear; and you tried your best to keep from blushing, though the scent of leather and expensive cologne made it very difficult. "Here, begins the tale of creation of the world we know and the lives we live..."

Through his gentle guidance, you started to see the world as clearly as he felt it through his fingertips.

As colder weather swept in, the thick walls of the Citadel offered much warmth and protection from the snow and wind. Colder weather also meant that many of the newer recruits were unable to train outside. For you, this meant you spent much less time on archival work and more time running around scolding young recruits getting frisky in the back corners of your library instead of studying for the written tests Cor had advised them of. As days grew shorter, the hours you worked at the library became longer. A few recruits had actually diligently wanted to study, and you couldn't turn down their pleas to keep the place open as they crammed as much information as possible before their exams.

You had expected the late hours with students and the rookie Crownsguard; surprisingly, out of all the people who stayed the late, it was the Royal Advisor himself who stayed the latest. How Ignis remained conscious no matter what time of the day it was was beyond you. Often, he would stay much later past midnight while you would struggle to keep your eyes open for any book, no matter how intriguing the subject matter.

After a week of waiting on him to finish, you figured you should at least help him be comfortable during the long night hours. Though the Citadel kept out the worst of the cold winds, there were times when even the warmest parts of the castle became drafty and chilled. Though it was late, you didn’t see the harm in offering a hot cup of Ebony to keep him warm.

"You're working yourself to death," you murmured, placing the steaming cup of coffee in front of him. "It's not very becoming of the Royal Advisor to be dead."

He let out a low chuckle and graciously accepted the cup from you. When his fingers brushed against yours, you wondered if it was your imagination that made it feel like his fingers lingered on yours for a second longer than what was normal. "It's not my intention to die here. I've survived much worse."

"Could have fooled me. What are you doing here at this hour?"

"Just going over the list of houses that will be attending the next gathering in a few months. I'd like to make sure Noctis has an idea of who's who before he makes a fool of himself."

"Well, wouldn't that be a sight," you said, giggling slightly. You reached for the stack of papers he had been going over while he sipped at the coffee. "I'm assuming there's a different list of guests this time?"

"Many of the same guests as last time, though with a rising interest in trade with Insomnia, it's brought in a few more requests for invitations."

"I see..." you murmured, glancing through the list and letting out a low whistle after your brain had pieced together most of what the braille on the page read. You had spent many hours since Ignis had first taught you the basics of reading the symbols to understand it better. In your determination to understand him better, you had spent more hours than you cared to admit in becoming fluent in reading texts as he did. “I didn't think half of these territories were even thinking about trading and commerce between us. I mean, you've even got guests from the Kilvas nation? How long ago did they stop trade?"

"Their borders have been closed much longer than we've been alive. Thanks to Noctis' accomplishments, we've been rather blessed with the recent interest in interaction from other countries that have long been closed off."

"Yeah, but that also means that they've been overworking you, huh?"

"I wouldn't call it overworking. I simply have more responsibilities than usual. It'll die down once this gathering is over and done with."

You raised a curious eyebrow at how nonchalant he was about having little to no sleep for the last few weeks. Having seen the sun rise a few times on occasion, you knew exactly how much rest he wasn't getting. "Ignis, if you're not running around telling people what needs to be done, you're in here until I have to force you to get out. Do you even know what sleep is?"

Instead of answering your question, he simply turned towards your direction to cast a gaze at you while taking a long sip of his drink. Realizing you weren't going to actually get an answer, you let out an exasperated sigh and idly flipped through the guest list again. He hid his fatigue well, but you could see how strained his shoulders were from long hours of going through papers. You let the silence between the two of you pass, hoping that having the papers in your hands gave him some time to relax.

"How'd you know?"

"Hm? Know what?" you asked looking up from the pages in your hands.

"Exactly how I like my coffee?"

"Ebony has a very distinct smell, you know," you said with a soft laugh. "Also, your love of it isn't very much a secret."

"Well, I suppose that much is true," he commented before going back for another sip. "What are you doing here at this hour? I figured most people would have gone home by now."

"I always have work to do," you said with a shrug and a soft laugh. "I just usually like to wait for you to leave so I don't accidentally lock you in here alone."

"Your shift should have ended hours ago."

"Oh I know, I already clocked out. I was just doing some extra work on the side and some reading. It's not a big deal."

"I shouldn't have kept you waiting for so long then," he said, promptly gathering up all his things. "I was actually waiting for you to finish your work. I didn't realize that I had kept you waiting on me."

You stood there, completely bewildered that he would think about waiting for you. The fact that you were waiting for him in return made the whole situation just that much more absurd in your mind. At the hour it was, you could barely keep your eyes open; and you sorely wished you had made a cup of Ebony for yourself. Though, considering you were planning on doing nothing but sleep once you got home, perhaps it was in your best interest to not have that much caffeine in you.

"Are you ready to go?" Ignis asked, his voice snapping you out of your stupor.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. In a bit. Let me go and get my stuff and lock up," you said, darting away to gather your things and make a quick once around the library to make sure you weren't going to lock anyone in while you were gone. You had half expected Ignis to have already left by the time you came back; however, he was still waiting there for you as you came up to him, panting from running around so much. "Okay, ready now," you breathed, trying to catch your breath.

"You didn't have to rush."

"But it's already late and I'm sure you'd like to get some sleep before having to wake his highness up when the sun comes up for his royal breakfast."

He let out a genuine laugh at your comment and you sorely wished you had some way to bottle the sound and keep it with you. "Perhaps I'll let him sleep in for the day. I'm sure he wouldn't mind that. Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the door.

"Absolutely. I can't wait to get to get home and sleep."

"Allow me to make sure you're able to get safely home then," he offered.

"Ignis, I'm locking this place up so that you can get some sleep. I'll be fine on the walk ho---me," stifling your yawn was neigh impossible, try as you might.

"Your yawn tells me otherwise. Please, I'll be fine. Consider it thanks for the Ebony."

"How can I argue against you?" you said with an exhausted sigh and a shrug while you bundled up in your winter coat.

"You don't," he simply stated before taking the lead and heading out.

Your breaths rose in small clouds as he walked next to you. You couldn't help stealing quick glances over towards him and admiring how soft his features looked against the lights of the night. Though he was essentially following you, it still felt as though he knew exactly where he was going. He walked with a purpose and an innate grace that you could only hope to attain one day. Every now and then, as your arm swung back and forth in time with your steps, your hand would brush against his and you'd feel a blush creep across your cheeks. You couldn't tell if it was purely coincidence or if he was doing it intentionally to keep track of where you were.

You realized he was doing it on purpose when his fingers brushed against your hand more frequently, and his touch lingered. As much as you wanted to ignore how fast your heart was beating and how heated your face felt even against the cold weather, there was no denying that his little actions had an effect on you. Eventually, you gathered up what courage you had at that hour and held onto his hand the next time it passed by your own.

Ignis stiffened for the briefest moment before you felt his hand relax into yours, and his posture shifted slightly. It was pleasant to listen to the stillness that surrounded you. As late as it was, and as little sleep as you knew you were going to get, you couldn't help but take the long way back so that you could relish in the warmth of his hand while the cold winter air chilled your lungs. He didn't seem to mind though, every time you glanced up at him, you noticed the slightest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Hey, are you going to be okay getting back to your place?" you asked once you got home and realized that you had possibly led him to a part of town that he wasn't familiar with.

"I'll manage. I'm rather familiar with these streets," he reassured you with a gentle squeeze of his hand. "Though, with how long it took for us to reach your home, I was starting to wonder if you had gotten lost."

"I... I'm sorry..." you mumbled, moving to unlock your hand from his, though his hold on you remained steadfast.

"What have I told you about apologizing?" he chided.

"But--"

"Enough. It's too early in the day for one of your speeches," he said, quelling any nervous tirades that you might spiral into. "Just tell me, what does the sunrise look like today?"

You glanced past his shoulder to notice the pale blush of dawn cresting over the buildings and casting its warm glow into the fading night sky. Birds began their song in the distance, and the quiet hum of city life began to stir as people started their days. With his back against the peaceful backdrop of the rising sun, Ignis seemed to glow, and even the harsh scars on his face softened in the rosy light.

"It's absolutely stunning," you whispered, gently squeezing his hand as you watched your breath drift upwards in the winter air to mingle with the disappearing stars.

You made it a point to attend as few of the balls and events that the Citadel hosted as possible. Mingling with strangers in fancy attire and making small talk was not something you particularly cared for; however, thanks to much pestering from your friend, you eventually caved and agreed to go.

It was strange, walking around in the Citadel and not being on duty in your library. You had been asked to lock it up to prevent any amorous couples from rendezvousing in its corners. For that, you were grateful since your workspace would be safe from the aftermath of the event. The event itself, however, was not something you had come mentally prepared for.

Dressed to the nines in what formal wear you owned and wearing borrowed accessories, you couldn't help but wish that you were allowed to wear your uniform. At least then you could pass yourself off as being on duty and not feel like the event was made for people much higher on the social ladder than you were. Your friend was quickly whisked away from you by some other obligations which left you alone to fend for yourself in a sea of people you weren't familiar with.

It didn't take long for you to feel overwhelmed by your surroundings. It was hard to keep track of who you were talking to and what they were talking about. The faces that passed started to look too familiar as you were force to socialize with more people. Before long, the sounds and their voices echoed in your head too loudly for you to concentrate. Your heart raced as it tried to find a way out of the situation. All instincts screamed at you to run even if you weren't in any immediate danger.

You frantically looked around for someone familiar, anyone to possibly ground you from what felt like your mind leaving your body and ascending to some other plane of existence while also being extremely aware of how loud and bright everything was. I need to leave.

In your panicked state, you pushed yourself through the crowds of people, keeping your eyes focused on the ground in front of you to avoid having to interact anymore. You sought the only place that you knew would be quiet that night. You let out a blissful sigh of relief when you slipped past the heavy doors and into the dark room. It took a while for your eyes to adjust, but you were able to make your way to the back room where you were least likely to be found.

Once there, you curled up into the corner of the room and let yourself cry like you had wanted to since the night began. The stress of being around people, around all the bright lights and the formalities had worn you down much quicker than you had expected. You had realized after being at the gathering for less than ten minutes that you didn't belong at an event like this. The yearning to leave had built itself up and culminated until it felt like it consumed you. In the dark, you were safe; and when you couldn't take anymore, you allowed yourself to break down in the safety of the tiny storage room.

You let your mind wander as you cried, wondering about the what if's of your life: if you hadn't gone to the event, if you had simply never said anything about liking to organize, if you actually had any sort of place in a castle filled with important ambassadors and emissaries that you embarrassed yourself in front of. You spiraled out of control, and only made the void of negative voices grow in your mind. At that point, you weren't quite sure why you were even upset in the first place. All you knew was that you felt weak, incompetent, insignificant and you would remain that way for the rest of your life.

"Are you alright?"

You jumped slightly in mid sob, looking up from where you were, and squinted through your tears to see who had found your hiding place. You could barely make out the outline of a person in the dark; however, Ignis' voice was unmistakeable. How he seemed to always find you when you were the most vulnerable, you didn't know. What was even more incredible was the fact that he was willing to still be in your presence even if you weren't at your best.

"F-Fine," you mumbled, though your voice cracked from all the crying you had done, and you were doing a poor job of hiding your hiccups.

"You don't sound like it."

"I-I'll be fine," you tried to sound reassuring though the hiccups that followed did not help your case.

"You've been crying here for the last fifteen minutes, I highly doubt that you're fine as you say you are."

"H-how long have you been here?"

"Long enough. Come, take a walk with me," he said, offering his hand to you. You shouldn't have been surprised that he moved easily in the dark, but it was still impressive to you how he was able to navigate to you without making much noise or knocking into anything.

"Huh?"

"Take a walk with me," he repeated. "The gardens are right there, and I think some fresh air will do you some good."

You weren't one to accept help from others when you were in that kind of mood; however, you were willing to do anything to get out of the dreadful headspace you were in. Wiping your tears on the back of your sleeve, you accepted his warm hand and followed him as he expertly maneuvered through the hallways to the door that leads out to the garden.

For the months that you had worked at the library, you had never once considered strolling through the gardens during your free time. You had a perfect view of it from the tiny back room and didn't think once to explore the grounds a little more than your peaceful corner. Now though, gently being led through the paths by Ignis' hand, you let your mind calm itself down from the strange place your mind had placed itself in.

Your footsteps crunched on the gravel in time with his as you let the stillness of the garden seep into your body and slowly bring yourself down from the high that your anxiety had given you. It was quiet between the two of you, but it was comfortable. The moon illuminated the pathways just enough for your eyes to see clearly but not be overwhelmed by light.

"Tell me, what's it like?"

"Huh?"

"The garden, what's in bloom right now?"

"Ah... The orchids are," you murmured, tugging at his hand and pausing to admire them. "They're happy right now, it's not too cold for them. The sun was out today but the trees here give them enough shade so they don't feel like they're going to wilt when it gets hot."

"Is that so? I'm glad they're doing well. What else is there?"

"The lilies at the pond are in bloom too."

"They are? Ah, that's a pleasant surprise. I never got a chance to see them in bloom before. They must be beautiful."

Your breath caught a bit at the back of your throat when you noticed the slightly wistful tone in his voice. "Y-yeah... they are. I'm sorry."

"There you go again, apologizing for things that aren't your fault."

"I--"

"Just walk with me for a bit longer. I don't get the chance to stroll here and enjoy the ambiance it brings. I do hope that the reconstruction has brought most of it back to the way it was before."

"I think so? I haven't compared any before and after pictures. I heard they rebuilt some of the barriers, but left some of the others so that the plants can mingle a bit more. I think I overheard someone say that the head gardener decided to plant more orchids this year to bring color to the grounds. It's like they're blooming with all their might now that they can see the sun again."

"What colors are there?"

"There are so many, Ignis. There are whites paler than fresh snow and pinks as light as dawn. They've put in all sorts of red ones too. They go from being bright to dark, the color getting richer and richer until the darkest ones are like fine wine held up to a light. There are others too down the path that show off their colors even in the moonlight."

"They must be a marvel to look at,” he commented, continuing to walk at a leisurely pace so that you could admire more than just the orchids. "Which flowers here do you like best?"

Of all the alluring orchids and elegant lilies you had passed, none of them caught your eyes as much as the wild brush of camellias in full bloom. You smiled, taking in their scent and gently pulling Ignis by the hand to the brush.

"This one," you said when you finally got close enough to the flowers and came to a stop to admire them up close. Under the moonlight, they glowed brilliantly white with the barest trace of green at the inner corners of their petals. Standing on tiptoe, you reached out to pluck a bloom and placed it gently in his hand.

"And why this one in particular?" he asked while his thumb traced the soft petals and curves of the flower in his palm.

"It reminds me of your eyes..." you explained with a soft giggle, taking the flower from his hand and reaching upwards to tuck it behind his ear. "It's a perfect match," you said with a grin, hoping he could feel just how much better you felt in your voice.

"I take it that you're feeling better?"

"Much better," you affirmed, smiling your hardest and wishing he could feel how peaceful you were with him.

"Good."

In that moment, as the moonlight hit his face while he smiled at you, you could have sworn that even angels would have been put to shame at the beautiful sight before you.

As hectic as your world was, you always found time to browse the Literature section that was tucked into the top most floor of the Citadel Library. There was always something there that you hadn't read before. Often times though, you found yourself going back to an old leather bound book filled with folk poetry that smelled of moonlight and expensive cologne.

A little more than year had passed since the sun had risen again. The world settled, and so did you and your routine. Though you still stayed late on occasion, your life had become rather regulated. No longer did you have to worry about any insane deadlines, nor did you have to fret over a new book order for Ignis. As boring as normal was, you were grateful for it. It took a year for you to finally fall into a normal routine; and honestly, you wouldn't trade it for much.

Part of the normal life you lived were the visits from Ignis. He had become a rather regular visitor of yours, and you welcomed his company. Considering he had seen you through the worst of your moods, he had become a close confidant and friend. For the year that you had known him, he had gone from the intimidating Royal Advisor to becoming someone precious and dear to your heart. You were grateful for so much, and seeing him patiently waiting for you to open the library with a pair of coffee cups in his hands reminded you how much you were thankful for.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" you asked, accepting the warm cup from him and grinning like a fool when you felt his fingers brush lightly against your own.

"Ah, there was an early hearing of local grievances. I've brought the recorded audio for archiving. Noctis has asked for a transcript as soon as possible," he explained while you fumbled with the key to unlock the library door.

"I should have everything done by the afternoon," you said, pushing the door open and letting him in before you. "Still, that doesn't explain why you're here. You could have easily gotten someone else to do the errand running for you."

He shrugged and walked with you over to your desk. "I offer you coffee and you question my motives?"

"It's not often that the Royal Advisor has free time in the morning to get coffee for a friend," you quipped, taking a grateful sip of the bitter brew and humming in approval. You had expected Ebony, but you were pleasantly surprised to find that your drink had been made just the way you liked it. "How'd you know?"

"Know what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, though with the smirk that played on his lips, he knew exactly what you were going to ask.

"Exactly how I like my coffee?"

He gave you a low chuckle. "I feel like we've had this conversation before."

"We have, but you didn't answer my question."

"Ah, well, I have my sources."

"I'm going to have to thank her later," you murmured before taking another sip of your coffee and setting your desk up for the day.

"Well, I have to admit, it's a strangely specific order you have."

"What can I say, I like numbers," you said with a shrug.

"I'm failing to see how a cup of coffee with three sugar cubes and one portion of creamer stirred four times and four times only has to do with your love of numbers."

You smiled when you heard him recite your order. The way you preferred your coffee had been a habit you had fallen into for good luck. You had repeated those numbers over and over on a daily basis to cement your feelings for the very person who had given you your most recent cup. You never realized how beautiful and colorful your world would turn when you heard the numbers fall from his lips in the order that explained your everlasting adoration and love for the man before you.

"Then I suppose you'll have to simply look for a book that explains it," you said with a soft smile.

"And where might I find that section?"

"Hmmm," you leaned against your desk and sipped your coffee thoughtfully, "I'd suggest the topmost floor, three aisles past the furthest staircase on the left. Somewhere in that area."

"It's not like you to be vague about the location of books."

You shrugged. "It's early, I can't say I'm fully functional yet, I'm allowed to be vague when I just got here."

Ignis let out a soft laugh at your comment, and you relished in the sound echoing throughout the empty library in the early morning. As the sunlight peeked through the windows and shone through his tinted glasses, you did everything you could to memorize the warm moments like this that you were able to share with him. It only drove home how much he meant to you, and you so sorely wished he could see how beautiful the world was after all he had sacrificed.

"Thank you," you murmured lovingly after the last of his laughter had died down.

"For what?"

"For telling me to stop saying 'I'm sorry' so much. I should be thanking you instead for being there for me and helping me break the habit."

He smiled warmly and regarded you with a steady gaze, "I've waited a long time for you to say that."

"Then I'll say it again. Thank you. I'll say over and over until you're tired of it. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for so much. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he whispered, leaning over and tilting your chin up towards him so that he could brush his lips against yours. Any other words you saved up to tell him could wait until later. It was much too early for one of your rambling speeches after all.

-Fin-

#Ignis x reader #Older Ignis x reader #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv scenarios #reader-insert #my writing #jfc i did it friends #my wrists my hands and my arms hate me but i fucking did the thing #thank you guys for all your support i could cry #I'm so nervous posting this omg

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shima-draws · 7 years

Text

I Took the Stars from My Eyes

...and then I made a map And I knew that somehow, I would find my way back...

Thanks to the brilliant @monsterunderthefedora for writing a couple of fics for my Timeloop AU, they inspired me to actually contribute more to my own AU lmfao so. Here I am c: (And thanks AGAIN for the awesome fics, bruh!! I really really appreciate and treasure and love them with all my heart so. You could say this is my return gift to you ^^)

Also I’m gonna put this up on Archive and FFNet in a bit, so please keep an eye out for it over there too! (It’ll be under the user Shima2112, just an FYI!)

As usual I’m a little shit who sucks at keeping things short so. You’re welcome, I guess. This is 4k words. Kill me now. Also hey, if you have no idea what the heck is going on in this fic, check out my Timeloop AU tag on this blog! Things will make a little bit more sense. Though I do sum it up pretty well in the fic too, your choice.

And, a brief summary: "Stop, s-stop it, please," Michael begs, crying heavily. "There's no point, Jer—you can't save me! Just leave me here. It's okay." "Shut the fuck up," Jeremy snaps, furious. "Don't ever talk like that. We're going to make it through this. And when we do, I'm going to kiss the hell out of you, Michael Mell." That's what does it. Michael's cheeks immediately flush with a bright pink color, enough to touch the tips of his ears. "Wh-what?" "One, two, three, go!"

This is based off the conversation I had with @monsterunderthefedora earlier over IM. I suggested a little something, and now I’ve gone and written about it...from my perspective of things! I hope you guys enjoy! And please don’t hate me for doing this to Michael //throws confetti

Footsteps thud loudly against the floor. Gasps heave out of his throat as he runs, breathless. The only reassuring thought he has is that his best friend is close behind, right at his heels. Having him here is more reassuring than anything.

"How much further?!"

"Down the hall, to the left! It's just outside the corridor!"

Jeremy finally skids around the corner, almost colliding into Chloe's back. Michael manages to stop right next to him, looking visibly shaken, his favorite hoodie drenched in sweat, blood and dirt. Jeremy is sure he looks equally as awful, if not worse. The circles under his eyes are the result of countless time loops before this, loops of running into dead ends, shattering windows and hungry flames devouring them all alive.

He's lost count of how many times he's been here, at Jake's house on the night of Halloween. The party had begun smoothly; it always does, but what soon comes to follow has caused him to relive the night over and over, stuck on repeat.

Most of the time, Rich is the cause of the fire. Sometimes, he isn't. But either way, it's a fated event. Something that always happens, no matter what the circumstance, even if Jeremy tries to prevent it from even starting. By now he's learned to stop wasting time worrying about when the fire is going to start, and more on how to get everyone out safely.

He hasn't succeeded with that. Yet. Hence why he's gone through so many timelines.

He should feel blessed that he's been given a second chance to save his friends from a burning doom—and a third chance, and a fourth, and a fifth, and all the way up until now. But he's sick of this, sick of seeing them die, sick of hearing them cry out for help or sacrifice themselves for somebody else.

He just wants to go home. Maybe curl up in bed with Michael and bury his nose into that faded red hoodie.

He's come to understand, over many time loops and endless conversations with his other half, that he is hopelessly and absolutely in love with Michael Mell. However, in the midst of all of this insanity, he hasn't really been in the mood to confess his feelings. It's always too hectic to say the words, too crazy and chaotic. It's never been a good time.

"What are you standing there for?! We have to keep moving!" He snaps, giving Chloe a shove.

The girl stumbles forward and swears at him. Well, at least that tactic worked. He's not here to babysit these guys; he tried that once already and it didn't end well. Knives got involved. Don't ask him how, he doesn't like remembering.

Suddenly the house lets out a horrible groaning sound, as loud as a freight train. Jeremy's eyes dart around in fear, looking for the source of the noise. What now? He can't remember what happens next, he's gone through this too many times to keep track. Events change in every timeline, leading to an infinite amount of possibilities of the ways the house can kill them.

"Shit!"

The cry comes from Michael, who is staring at the ceiling, mouth taut.

Jeremy doesn't have time to respond as the teen suddenly shoots towards him.

"Jeremy, look out!"

He feels a weight slam into his side, sending him sprawling across the floor. An enormous crash sounds from the ceiling, and he watches in horror as it collapses on top of Michael, showering him in wooden debris and bits of furniture from upstairs.

"Michael! No!" He shrieks, his voice cracking in the middle.

Immediately he's on his feet again, throwing apart pieces of wood and broken glass.

"Oh fuck," Rich breathes from several paces in front of him. The rest of the group turn around and race over to help, digging through the remains of the ceiling.

"Michael!" Jeremy cries out, shaking. "Michael, Michael, answer me! Michael!"

This can't be happening. He doesn't want to start over again. He doesn't want to rewind time and reset it all again!

"Jeremy, over here!"

He kicks up dirt as he goes, scrambling over to Brooke. She has uncovered a portion of the wreckage, revealing a red piece of clothing decorated with dust.

"Michael!" He screams, giving all he has to clear the rest of it away. Christine and Jake lean over to help, tossing broken pieces of houseware over their shoulders.

Finally a face appears amongst the mess, and Jeremy chokes on a gasp.

"M!"

Within moments he's in the taller boy's arms, his head cradled against Jeremy's chest.

"Michael," Jeremy whispers, rubbing dirt off his cheek with a sleeve. Probably not that affective since Jeremy's shirt is also covered in grime.

"...He's not answering," Jenna whimpers, shaking.

"Michael." The brunette tries again, withholding a sob. "Hey, c-come on, you knucklehead. Wake up. We gotta go."

"Jeremy..." Christine reaches out to him, her eyes full of sadness.

"No, no, no," Jeremy slaps her hand away, shaking his head. "He's fine. He's okay. He—he has to be..."

"Come on, you guys." Rich beckons them all away, to give them a little privacy. The others stand up and follow, silent and melancholy.

"Michael," Jeremy cries, shaking his friend. "Michael, Michael, wake up. I need you, M. I need my player one, come on, please..."

He lowers his head until it's resting on Michael's chest, bawling. It can't be over already. Not like this. How many times has it been, now? How many times has he seen Michael die like this?

Suddenly Michael's chest moves, slowly but surely. His breathing makes Jeremy's head go up and down. And then, like a miracle, he releases a quiet cough.

Jeremy shoots up, eyes wide.

"Michael?!"

"Ugh," Michael groans, his voice a low croak.

The brunette releases a yell of joy and tackles his friend, squeezing him tightly. His call alerts the rest of the gang, who come rushing over.

"Ohhh, Michael! Thank god! You scared the absolute shit out of me!"

"S'rry," comes a mumbled response. Jeremy looks up to see the shorter boy shooting him a crooked grin, his eyes-half lidded.

"Never do anything like that ever again, you asshole," he demands, reaching up to pinch Michael's cheeks playfully.

"Yeah, yeah...”

Jeremy sits up and helps Michael do the same, watching warily as he looks around, disoriented. There's something wrong with the way his eyes wander, almost lost, and there is a weird sense of panic emanating from him. But there isn't time to think about that, they have to get moving. So Jeremy hurries on to the more important questions.

"Are you okay? Is anything broken?"

Michael's eyebrows draw together and he slowly starts wiggling parts of his body cautiously. Finally he puffs out a breath, sounding a bit wheezy.

"No, don' think so," he manages to mumble, wincing. "'M definitely bruised though. And I hit my head real hard."

Jeremy frowns and brushes his hand against Michael's temple, making a noise of concern when something sticky and warm coats his fingers.

"You're bleeding," he observes, leaning over to inspect the damage better. It looks like there's a lot of blood, but Michael is awake and coherent, so it can't be that bad, right? He desperately hopes so.

"Jeremy, we gotta go," Brooke pleads, her eyes wide and her hair frazzled as she peers around anxiously.

"Right, okay," he nods, moving to help Michael stand. Rich comes over to assist, and both of them manage to stand the shaky boy up on his feet. The injured teen groans but steadies himself, shaking the dizziness off.

"You okay, M?" Jeremy murmurs, wrapping an arm around his best friend's shoulder for support as the group finally starts to move. Embers lick at their feet as they stumble amongst the debris of the fallen ceiling, looking for the next closest exit.

"Uhh," Michael swallows, his fingers clamping tightly down on Jeremy's shoulder. Terror flashes across his face for a split second and then he's grinning, albeit with a grimace. "Y-yeah. Just hurts a lil'. I'm fine."

Jeremy notices the slur in his words and chews his lip. Clearly he isn't as fine as he says, if the glazed look in his eyes have anything to do with it. But they don't have time to worry about that—they can fret over Michael once they're out. Or, if something happens and Jeremy's forced to reset the timeline again, there's no need to worry at all. He really hopes it doesn't come to that, though, even though that's the most probable outcome, as usual.

"Jeremy!"

Jeremy hurries his pace, Michael barely managing to keep up with him, and pales when he realizes that half of the floor is gone. The others are looking at him worriedly, their bodies slack with exhaustion, their eyes full of despair. They look about ready to give up.

But he isn't going to let that happen. They've come this far, they can make it this time! He's sure of it.

"We'll jump across," he says firmly, determined. "Jake, can you see a solid place to land that won't collapse?"

Jake looks somewhat surprised at being addressed, but he takes a moment to look across the gap and nod.

"Yeah. See that stretch of tile over there? That should be enough to hold us."

"Okay, good," Jeremy releases Michael after making sure he can stand on his own, and then walks to the edge of the chasm in the floor. Below is a sea of swirling flames, a death sentence to anyone who'd fall in. He gulps and starts to hype himself up. If he hesitates, even for a second, it's the end.

"I need one of you to jump over first," he turns to Jake and Rich, and almost laughs at the way they look terrified. If the situation were any different, he probably would laugh.

"Come on," the brunette urges, beckoning them forward. "One of you needs to get over there first to catch the rest of us."

"Why don't you do it?" Rich mumbles weakly.

"Do I look strong enough to catch you?" Jeremy deadpans, holding out his sorry excuse for arms. They look more like pool noodles, if he's being honest.

"Yeah, alright, I'll go," Jake sighs, his shoulders tending up.

Christine almost steps forward to grab his arm, but she holds herself back, waiting.

"C-can you make it?!" Chloe squeaks, chewing on her fingernails as she stands close to Brooke. Jenna is behind her, shockingly silent for once. She looks tired.

Jake shoots her a cocky smile, but it's half-hearted at best. "Course I can. Just watch."

"Be careful," Brooke whispers, trembling.

Jake nods and blows out an exhale. Then, he backs up, crouching low. Jeremy holds his breath.

Jake darts forward and leaps, flying across the gap. For a moment it looks like he's going to fall, but he clears the space easily, landing several feet beyond the edge of the hole. He holds himself still for a couple seconds, and then he straightens out, all of the tension in his muscles dissolving.

He turns around and gives the group a large, shaky grin. His face is white as a sheet.

"Made it!" He calls over.

"Okay, who's next?"

Jeremy looks at the rest of the group, and they all avoid his eyes, fear clearly written across their faces. He sighs and rubs his temples. He can understand how frightened they are, but now really isn't the time to be hesitant. They don't exactly have all the time in the world to stand here deciding whether to jump or not. The flames devour the walls around them, threatening to bring the whole house down, and if they don't go now they'll be caught in it. Michael had almost been taken out by the house before.

"Come on, you guys. The hardest part is over. Jake's over there to catch you. Unless you'd rather turn around?" He knows he shouldn't be so harsh, but if this is the only way to snap them to attention he will.

Christine takes a brave step forward but before she can get far Chloe pushes her out of the way, her heels clicking across the floor. She looks absolutely terrified, but she tries to hide it with a fierce expression.

"You'd better catch me, Jake!" She shouts, her hands shaking at her sides.

"I will," Jake says honestly.

Seeing that he's being genuine, Chloe takes a deep breath. Brooke covers her eyes, whispering, "I can't look," and Jenna shifts her feet from side to side, visibly anxious.

Chloe jumps, a frightened scream tearing out of her throat. Jake lunges forward and snatches her out of the air, his arms wrapping firmly around her waist.

They stand there awkwardly for a moment before he sets her down, eyes full of relief. Chloe throws her head up and huffs, announcing, "That was so easy!" But it isn't difficult to see just how scared she was as she distances herself from the hole, not wanting to be near it.

"I'll head over next," Rich says, and Jeremy nods.

The rest of them watch nervously as he makes his leap across the gap, skidding to a stop on the other side. He gives them a thumbs up, mouth stretched wide in a grin.

"Okay, Brooke, your turn," Jeremy coaxes her gently, his eyes flickering to the oncoming wall of fire behind them. "Hurry, now."

Brooke stays in place and shakes her head, tears gathering in her eyes. "I can't. I'm too scared!"

"Hey, hey," Jeremy places a comforting hand on her shoulder, trying to seem reassuring.

"It's gonna be just fine, Brooke. They won't let you fall. They'll catch you."

The blonde sobs and buries her head in her hands, trembling. "B-but what if I do fall? What if—"

"Just don't think about it." He says firmly, cutting her off. "Run and jump. Don't even think about the "what ifs". If you do, you'll just psyche yourself out."

She peers at him through the gaps in her fingers, sniffling.

"Will you help me?"

He nods, his hand sliding down to her back to guide her forward. "Yeah. I'll be right here, okay?"

Brooke rubs her arms and gazes across the pit, managing a nervous smile at Chloe, who waves at her from the other side.

"That's it. You can do it. Alright, on the count of three. One...two...three...jump!"

Brooke springs into the air, soaring across. Her hair whips wildly out behind her. Simultaneously Rich and Jake reach out to catch her. A horrible second passes and Jeremy's stomach clenches, watching as Brooke falls closer to the edge...

The boys both grab an arm and haul her up, and she embraces them both, crying. Jeremy breathes out a sigh of relief. Now there's only four of them left, and time isn't really on their side at the moment. The fire is fast approaching, creeping slowly across the wooden floorboards, mere yards away from Michael's back.

Jenna goes next, and it's so strange not to see her upbeat and hyper as she usually is. Her face is solemn as she locks eyes with the others from far away. She pumps herself up before taking flight, landing safely on the opposite end.

Jeremy turns to Christine, who gives him a silent nod. It seems she has readied herself while the others were traveling over to the other side. She makes it over in one piece as well, almost tripping as she touches down on the floor.

"Okay, Michael," Jeremy hurries over to his friend, who is staring blankly ahead, his vision unfocused.

Jeremy notices this and regards him worriedly. "Michael?"

"Hmm?" Michael tilts his head towards the taller teen, and his eyes seem to look right through him.

"Are you okay? You look really spaced out," Jeremy whispers, even though he knows the others are too far away to hear.

The bespectacled boy nods slowly, biting his lip. "Mm. Yeah. Jus'...still a lil' out of it, I think."

"Shit, how hard did you hit your head?"

And Jeremy reaches over and smooths Michael's bangs back, flaring in alarm when he realizes the other teen is very, very warm.

"Jer," Michael murmurs, searching for his sleeve. Once he finds it he grabs on, fingers clenching. "Jer, I don' feel so good."

For some reason, hearing this makes Jeremy want to cry. "I—I know, M. Just...just a little longer, okay? Once we get out of here we'll get you checked out. As soon as we make it over this hole—"

Michael shakes his head, preventing him from finishing. He has a look of sad acceptance on his face, his hand falling to his side.

"You go on without me, Jer. I don' think 'm gonna make it."

Fear shoots up Jeremy's spine like lightning, and suddenly he can't breathe—and that's not because of the choking smoke in the air. He releases a pathetic whimper and latches on to Michael's arm, tugging him along.

"No, no, don't say that, Michael," he whines, pulling him away from the oncoming fire.

"We—we have to make it out. We're going, we're going together."

Michael halts, gently moving his arm out of the brunette's grip.

"This's it for me," he continues softly, as if he's trying to soothe Jeremy. "You'll havta beat the game without me, J."

"No!" Jeremy shouts, tears already beginning to slide down his cheeks, making tracks through the dirt on his face.

"I'm not leaving without you! I won't do it!"

"Please, just go. There's no time—"

"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, you're coming with me and that's final! Don't you dare—" He heaves out a sob, voice breaking. "D-don't you dare give up, M-Michael. Don't you d-dare leave me again..."

Michael regards him sadly, tears clinging to his own eyelashes.

"Just...just c-come on. Why can't you do it? You can jump, r-right? Or is there something wrong with your legs...?" At this, the boy in the red hoodie glances away, looking pale.

And then it hits him.

"No...no way," he mutters, backing away. He tosses his head from side to side, clenching his teeth.

"No way...no...! No, that can't be—!"

"That's why I can't go," Michael admits, his voice more small and timid than Jeremy has ever heard it before.

The way his eyes look so lost and distant, the way they can't focus on anything, even the way he stumbled through the house, holding onto Jeremy's arm for support.

He's blind.

The impact from the ceiling falling on top of him had taken its toll. Severe head trauma, combined with a limited amount of oxygen—yes, that was enough to rob somebody of their sight and render them helpless. Jeremy had no idea if it was permanent or only temporary, but it was enough. Enough to prevent Michael from escaping. Enough to make Jeremy have to rewind time again...

No. No. I won't. I won't restart, not this time!

"We're going," he says firmly, looping his arm around Michael's. The other boy's face becomes panic-stricken.

"Wh...what are you doing?! Are you insane?!"

"Yes," Jeremy responds without any hesitation. He's been through so many time loops now, he'd honestly be more surprised if he was still sane. "I'm getting you over there even if it means I kill myself in the process."

And it's these words that make Michael start to struggle, batting his free hand against him in an attempt to break free.

"No! Let me go! Jeremy—you'll die!"

"We won't know until we try! And I'd rather die trying than give up and be burned to death." He hisses severely, backing up. They're going to have to make a run for it. Luckily the path ahead of them is clear of any debris, so Michael doesn't have to worry about tripping on something he can't see.

"Stop, s-stop it, please," Michael begs, crying heavily. "There's no point, Jer—you can't save me! Just leave me here. It's okay."

"Shut the fuck up," Jeremy snaps, furious. "Don't ever talk like that. We're going to make it through this. And when we do, I'm going to kiss the hell out of you, Michael Mell."

That's what does it. Michael's cheeks immediately flush with a bright pink color, enough to touch the tips of his ears.

"Wh-what?"

"One, two, three, go!"

With his shout the two of them dash forward, putting all they have into their legs. Michael lets out a terrified wail, and then they're airborne, weightless. Jeremy can feel the intensity of the heat right below him, can feel the flames touching the soles of his sneakers—he can hear Michael yelling from next to him, his arm holding him so tightly that he can feel his bones creaking—he sees the other end of the floor, rapidly approaching, sees Rich and Jake and Jenna as well hold their arms out wide.

He and Michael crash headfirst into the three of them, and it's enough to make them topple over in a heap. Christine, Brooke and Chloe gather around them, shrieking worriedly, and help them to their feet.

"Jesus Christ, Jeremy, that was the craziest shit I've ever seen you do," Jake gasps, standing up with Jenna's assistance.

"Why the hell did you two jump at the same time?!" Chloe exclaims, looking more scared than angry.

But Jeremy pays them no mind. Instead he rolls over and flops on top of Michael, whose sightless gaze is fixed on the ceiling. He seems to be in shock, and a little winded.

"I told you we'd make it," Jeremy murmurs, and then he kisses him fully on the mouth.

Gasps erupt from the other members of the group, and he's almost sure he can hear the sound of a camera shutter going off in the background. He's too far gone to really care, lost in the scent of his favorite person, even though it's masked by smoke and dust and burnt wood.

It takes a moment, but Michael finally responds, groaning happily into Jeremy's mouth. Even though their world as they know it is falling apart at the seams, even though the roof might crash on their heads at any moment—they drown in each other, teeth clacking, tongues tussling. It's messy and it's sweet and in the midst of all this chaos it's the most wonderful thing in existence.

Eventually the boys break away, completely breathless. However they look livelier than they have in a forever, across countless time loops. Jeremy has never felt more alive than he does right now.

They stagger to their feet, dizzy, elated. The remainder of the teens' expressions show something Jeremy hasn't seen in a while: happiness. And hope, too. And maybe a bit of amusement as well.

"That was hot," Brooke comments offhandedly, squealing when Chloe elbows her in the side.

"Well..."

Christine smiles and starts to walk ahead, being careful of the hanging wood up above. The rest of them chuckle and start to follow her, picking their way through the mess.

"Hold my hand," Jeremy whispers, reaching over to interlock his fingers with Michael's. The other boy squeezes his hand, his expression showing nothing but utmost love and trust. Jeremy is his guide now, his escape, his sight, his freedom.

"Don't let go. Stay with me."

They follow the gang further into the smog. Their future is so uncertain. They may not even get to see the light of day. They might have to start all over from the beginning, in a new timeline. And if they do make it out, Michael might stay blind forever. But for now, they hold on to each other, and they will for their hope and their love to carry on into the future—whether it be their own, or them from another time—and take a step forward.

"Always."

Da da daaaaah, and that’s the end!!

I hope you all enjoyed that angsty fluffy sappy mess! It was fun to write~

Also, a couple of things:

*Jake’s house is three stories. I figure he probably has rich parents. Or, ya know, HAD. So in this fic they’re on the ground floor--so it’s possible for the ceiling to cave in and the floor to collapse as well. Just to clear that up if it was confusing!

*I have NO IDEA about blindness and if it can really be caused by a ceiling falling on your head. I’m sure it would hurt though. I did a little research and it is possible to go blind from a severe head injury. Combined with all the smoke Michael had been inhaling, he lost a lot of oxygen, so it’s probably possible an accident like that and the oxygen deprivation could take away his sight, even temporarily. But don’t quote me on that. It’s fiction, I’m allowed to bend the rules a little, right?

*I have a lot more ideas for this AU I might write in the future, who knows. But...if you guys are interested, and if you want to come and talk to me about your own ideas--please do! The possibilities of what could happen in all the different timelines are endless, so come and suggest stuff! I’m totally open to chatting about all the different tragedies these kids could go through--//shot (And hell, I already have such awesome support already, from the person who wrote me short fics about this AU--which are also under my Timeloop AU tag here, so please be sure to read them they’re so awesome!!)

Okey thank you for your time, have a great day, I hope I didn’t completely destroy your hearts and souls with this. IT HAD A HAPPY ENDING. I have a legit excuse hhh

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