#if you wish to befriend them you may make them an offering of cheese or dice or shiny things

[massive-nerd-potential]

This is a reminder to not tell your local cryptids they are human.

They do not like to be reminded of the shameful fact they have had to use this most embarrassing of disguises.

They also miss their wings. You may craft them wings.

[glassworkspiderlilies]

got me good vibes thank god i ain’t driving

Fire Emblem Three Houses | Dimitri/f!Byleth | AO3 Summary: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd goes grocery shopping at 3:30AM and meets an enigmatic girl in the dairy aisle. It goes from there. (Or, something-of-a-college-cryptid Byleth comes and goes as she pleases and befriends the Blaiddyd heir. Or he befriends her. In any case, it's an interesting semester.) Notes: Stress relief fic of no real discernible plot; best described with “head empty, just typing”. I’m serious, please do not think too hard while reading, I got nothing LOL. On the other hand, I had a lot of fun. Approximately (and absurdly) 10k words; more notes on AO3.

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“Hey, Dimitri. One of those nights, huh?”

“Yes. Want a Mad Bull?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

It’s 3:30AM, and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd is grocery shopping. The cashier on graveyard shift is well-acquainted with him now, at least on a surface level, as one becomes when you’re (usually) the only two people in the store at an ungodly hour. Dimitri buys him energy drinks sometimes. The cashier slips him extra coupons if he’s got them.

A combination of insomnia and nightmares keeps Dimitri up a lot, and while he can mostly regulate the insomnia, some nights are just particularly bad. Alternatively, if he is asleep but wakes up at any point, it’s too difficult for him to fall asleep again, so he may as well get up.  

It’s not the worst, since he’s used to it by now, and at university. There are things enough that he can do during these witching hours, grocery shopping at the 24-hour supermarket being one of them.

On the rare occasion there are other people in and out of the place, but Dimitri only sees them from a distance as they go about their own shopping. At this time, everyone’s minding their own business for one reason or another.

That’s why it’s a surprise when he turns into the dairy aisle to see a young woman standing in front of the cheeses. She’s wearing a soft gray hoodie with pink striping on the cuffs and hem, her hands in her pockets and the hood covering her hair, dark jeans, and knee-high boots. Despite the more casual style, it strikes Dimitri as somehow a little dressy, though Sylvain would snort and say he’d be one to talk. (Dimitri can’t help it. It’s how he was raised; he feels most comfortable in button-downs and crisp jackets. His most casual is a neat sweatshirt, jeans, and sneakers, like now. And anyway, Sylvain seemed to have fun enough choosing things to add to Dimitri’s wardrobe. At this point, all of Dimitri’s friends borrowed his clothes if they fit—even Felix, who always did so without asking, and sometimes Dimitri never even knew.)

The girl doesn’t even turn despite the sound of Dimitri’s cart, and he thinks that he’ll wait politely for her to finish her selection before making his, pretending to look at the nearest shelf. But she stands there for a few minutes too long without moving, and so after some deliberation and hesitation, Dimitri decides to approach. It’s his last aisle, and he more or less knows what he wants, so he’ll be quick and out of here.

She doesn’t move even as he comes to stand next to her, and he murmurs “excuse me” as he looms a little over her to reach for a block of Gautier cheese. An unfortunate yet unavoidable action based on positioning, because she is spectacularly dead center of the things he wants, and she still doesn’t move despite the proximity.

Dimitri glances at her, wondering if she’s okay. Her expression is totally blank; she’s either zoning out or focusing extremely hard.

Well. It’s pretty late—or early—after all.

He reaches for a second block and puts the two into his cart, stepping away from the girl to turn his attention to the yogurts that he gets for Sylvain on the next section over. He takes two of the mixed berry ones first before debating over the others.

“Plain or spicy?”

It takes him a minute to register the voice and the words, soft and pleasantly mid-tone.

Dimitri turns to find the girl looking at him, and he thinks oh, she’s really pretty, now that he’s seen her in full view, before actually connecting the dots that she’s the one who had spoken.

“Um, spicy?” he offers, and the girl seems to think for a moment before she nods decisively.

He watches as she reaches for two blocks of artisan cheese, flecks of herbs and spices visible through the packaging—not one he’s tried before, or honestly remembered seeing here—and turns to plop them squarely in his hands, balancing them perfectly on top of the yogurt containers.

She then walks away, putting her hands back in her pockets.

“Uh?” Dimitri says belatedly, looking between the girl’s retreating figure and the cheese.

Am I supposed to buy these for her? He wonders, as he puts everything in his hands in his cart. He grabs a six-pack variety of yogurt before rushing after her, but she’s gone by the time he makes it to the registers.

“All set?” the cashier yawns, and Dimitri blinks at him.

“Wasn’t there a girl just now? In a gray hoodie?” Dimitri asks, laying down his purchases.

“Hm? Oh yeah, she walked out without buying anything,” the cashier says, starting to scan the items, “People just come in here to kill time sometimes.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, looking towards the doors.

He completes his transaction, leaving the Mad Bull for the cashier, who waves his hand gratefully, and makes his way back to his car. The girl is still nowhere in sight; Dimitri realizes he wishes that she were.

He loads his groceries into his trunk and drives back to the dorms.

By the time he finishes finding space in the fridge for everything, it’s a little past 4AM. In about an hour and a half, Ingrid will be up for her morning run, and she always welcomes company. Dimitri shoots her a text for when she wakes up; he’ll pick up coffee and pastries for them too.

For now, he might as well work on his upcoming paper a little more.

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“So, what’s with the special cheese in the fridge?” Sylvain asks later that day, when their childhood quartet all meet up for lunch.

“Oh,” Dimitri says, remembering. “That. Um…there was a girl in the supermarket who just kind of…had me buy them?”

Sylvain, Felix, and Ingrid blink at him.

“What do you mean, ‘had you buy them’?” Felix says.

Dimitri recounts the whole experience.

“And you bought them,” Felix says, with his brows furrowed, his eyes and tone clearly conveying what the hell, that was so stupid.

Dimitri just shrugs.

“We should eat it later,” Ingrid says, biting into her burger, and Sylvain laughs.

“Yeah, leave it to Ingrid,” he says. “But we should. To commemorate Dimitri’s weird 3AM experience.”

Sylvain makes a big deal of it when they do eat the cheese later, when their classes have ended for the day and they’re back in their suite. He puts the crackers on a plate and tries to cut the cheese into fancy shapes, which only Dimitri actually appreciates.

“Oooh, spicy,” Ingrid says, as she pops a cube into her mouth. “Hey, this is really good!”

Felix says nothing, but reaches for more. Sylvain laments about the lack of appreciation for his artistic attempts, but also agrees that the cheese is great when he finally eats a piece himself.

Dimitri, as always, cannot really taste the flavor, but he likes both the scent and the texture, at least.

“So Dimitri finally meets a girl, we get a brand new cheese, what else is next?” Sylvain says, leaning back on the sofa.

“It wasn’t like that,” Dimitri protests, then pauses. “But she was very pretty,” he admits quietly, and Sylvain grins. “Like a goddess,” he adds, even quieter.

Sylvain smacks his own face in secondhand embarrassment.

“There, you see? It’s Dimitri’s romantic awakening.”

“Hardly matters unless he gets to see her again,” Felix says lazily, and Sylvain is the one that makes a wounded noise.

Dimitri, on the other hand, merely looks thoughtful. He hadn’t actively thought about wanting to see her again until Felix brought it up. But he thinks he might like to, if the chance presented itself.

“It’s the awakening,” Sylvain whisper-hisses, and no one seems to care.

“Stranger things have happened,” Ingrid says, in response to Felix’s statement and not Sylvain’s, “In any case, you should get this again.”

She tries to eat the rest. Felix fights her for it.

(When Dimitri goes shopping again two weeks later, he can’t find the cheese anywhere. Ingrid looks let down, Sylvain looks surprised, and Felix looks offended.

“What the fuck? Go find your 3AM cheese goddess again and ask her,” Felix says, and Sylvain laughs a little too hard.)

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Dimitri’s not sure why he allows himself to be dragged to parties, but he keeps letting it happen. Ingrid had brought them news that Dorothea was throwing her beginning-of-semester bash, which was always a Big Deal, and several of their mutual friends were going. Ingrid couldn’t not attend, because she was good friends with Dorothea. Sylvain was absolutely going, because he would never miss a party. Felix had not wanted to go, but Sylvain had somehow convinced him, and if Felix was going to suffer, then Dimitri better damn well suffer too, and so he relented from the combined pressure of Felix’s glare and Sylvain’s coaxing.

He supposed he could use the change of pace every now and then. And he could always slip away; people were usually too drunk to notice after a couple hours.

Sylvain borrows a shirt from Dimitri’s closet and wears it with three buttons undone. Felix steals a black jacket from Dimitri’s closet and wears it halfway down his arms. Ingrid does not take anything from his closet this time, but does borrow one of his hair ties.

Everyone tells Dimitri to change when he comes out of his room; Sylvain, as usual, takes control to make Dimitri more “party ready”, which consists of a long blue coat and off-white shirt—with several buttons undone, of course. (Dimitri buttons at least two up again later.)

The party is loud and raucous as it’s meant to be, but he’s amongst mostly friends, and so he’s actually not that anxious. There’s a few people he doesn’t know, but he is otherwise at least mostly familiar with everyone else. Annette bounces up and down when she sees them walk in, tapping Mercedes on the shoulder, who was conversing with Ashe. Dedue appears a moment later, and Dimitri’s main friend group is all here.

“Yay! I’m glad you made it too, Dimitri,” Annette says cheerfully. “Gosh—frowning already, Felix? Here, have a drink.”

Annette proffers her own cup.

“You already drank out of this,” Felix scowls, but he takes it anyway, and grimaces when he takes a sip. “What is this, fruit juice?”

“Felix is too good for Noa liquer,” Annette declares, turning her nose up, “Fine, go get yourself a beer or whatever!”

Felix teases her by holding her cup too high to reach, and she screeches at him until he finally puts it back in her hands. Mercedes chuckles as she watches them, and Sylvain takes the opportunity to compliment her dress with a roguish wink. She returns the compliment easily enough, with genuine warmth, which always throws Sylvain off.

“Dedue! I was surprised to hear you were coming,” Dimitri smiles, and Dedue smiles back.

“Dorothea asked if Ashe and I could make a few things,” he said. “Since I am here, I may as well make sure nobody gets in too much trouble.”

Dimitri chuckles.

“Oooh, Dedue, Ashe, you made food?” Ingrid chimes in, looking excited. While some things had obviously been bought, Dorothea was pretty picky about the specifics of her parties when she threw one. “I’m excited!”

“We did a really good job, if I say so myself,” Ashe smiles. “The meat skewers came out really well, so you and Felix should grab some while you get a chance.”

“Oh, you bet I will,” Ingrid says, already wandering away. “Hear that Felix? I’m not saving you any!”

Felix yells back, and in a second they all start wading deeper into the place, and everyone starts to branch off on their own. Dedue still mostly sticks with Dimitri, though, and the two of them stick to the peripheries.

Dorothea’s parties really span the entire apartment building; her neighbors across the way and downstairs are either friends or people she’s friendly with, so the doors to their apartments are also open for more space. If Dimitri thinks about it, it’s really nice, the way everything comes together.

As the night wears on and he’s consumed a couple drinks that Mercedes had kindly procured for him (with a reminder to drink slow), he begins feeling—looser, braver, almost a little giddy. Dedue is in conversation with Ashe, and Dimitri slips away to the kitchen for a moment, because there had been an extra dish of saghert and cream that he now wants in a very visceral way.

The kitchen is surprisingly empty—except for one person, who has climbed up on the counter, and is perched on her knees as she rifles through the topmost cabinet. The slit up the side of her skirt shows a generous bit of leg with the way she’s positioned, and Dimitri stares before he tells himself not to. The girl takes out two bags of—some kind of snack, and when she turns her head, Dimitri sees that she is holding another bag with her teeth, and also that he recognizes her.

“From the dairy aisle,” he blurts, and she blinks at him before trying to climb off the counter.

She teeters a little and Dimitri automatically moves to help her, in which he actually just lifts her off the counter by the armpits like a wayward cat.

“Oh—sorry,” he says, realizing that the action was way too familiar for someone who barely qualified as an acquaintance.

But she doesn’t look at all offended, and merely sets all three bags of chips down before she speaks.

“Thanks,” she says, then stares at him. “From the dairy aisle,” she states, in a manner that is confirming that yes, that is where they met.

A pause. She is so, so pretty, Dimitri thinks. There is sparkly gold eyeshadow brightening her already-bright green eyes, making her stare more intense. The more they’re at a standstill, the more nervous he becomes.

“I couldn’t find the cheese again,” he blurts.

She nods.

“It’s only stocked the fourth Tuesday of the month,” she says, ripping open a bag of chips, and taking a few to cram in her mouth before offering them to Dimitri.

“Oh,” he says, taking a chip. “It was very good. My friends liked it a lot too.”

She stares for a moment again, then offers him a tiny smile, a brief upturn of her lips. She had expected him to, he realizes, and she’s at least minutely pleased to have that expectation fulfilled. A short laugh escapes him at how odd this all is.

“You didn’t buy anything that night,” he says, though it comes out as a question.

She shrugs.

“I was just there,” she says, offering the chip bag again.

“Just there,” he repeats, taking more chips. At 3:30AM. “To…hang out?”

She gives a brief shake of her head.

“To stare at a specifically stocked cheese, only to give them to a stranger to buy?” Dimitri tries again.

She blinks at him, popping more chips in her mouth.

“Not a stranger,” she says, after she finishes chewing.

“Pardon? Forgive me, I don’t…recall us meeting before that night?” he says. He would have remembered someone like her, he’d think.

“You’re Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd,” she says, and he blinks at her use of his full name. Her eyes crease in amusement at his expression. “Not a stranger to me.”

Ah.

“But you are a stranger to me,” he says, and she shrugs again, as if saying it’s not like it’s something he could help.

“Byleth,” she offers, putting the open bag of chips in his hands, and opening up another one. (He looks at the labeling on the front. Beast meat and onion flavor. Huh.) “Want to go on an adventure, Dimitri?”

He looks back at her, mouth slightly open. She continues to stare at him, munching away from the other bag of chips, waiting for his response.

“Okay,” he says.

She nods, then rinses her fingers at the sink before motioning for him to follow with her head. She takes the two bags of chips with her as she walks out of the kitchen.

She navigates the crowd until she finds a group of three, all dressed looking as if they could kill, dumping the chip bags into the hands of a redhead.

“Hm? Chatterbox, where did you find these?” the girl says, reading the unusual flavors.

“Kitchen cabinet,” Byleth says, and the girl shoots her a half-exasperated look, but questions no further.

She hands one of them to the girl with blonde curls beside her, and Dimitri proffers the third bag as well, which the redhead also takes with a curious glance at him. Byleth makes to leave, but the boy with lavender hair and sparkly eyeshadow—the same that glints on Byleth’s eyelids, he realizes—stops her.

“Whoa, hold on there, friend! Not so much an introduction?”

“You know him already,” Byleth says, and the boy frowns at her.

“Yuri Leclerc,” he says, turning to Dimitri.

“Name’s Hapi,” the redhead pipes up, still looking at the chips.

“And I am Constance von Nuvelle,” the blonde says, tilting up her chin with a haughty smile.

“Dimitri,” he says, a little shyly, since they already know him. “A pleasure.”

“I’m sure,” Yuri says, with a nod of his head, before glancing back at Byleth. “Are you leaving already? And kidnapping the Blaiddyd Heir?”

“Yes,” Byleth says.

A pause.

“Well, carry on then,” Yuri says with a shrug. “Want a drink before you go?”

“Yes,” Byleth says.

They wait as Yuri makes his way to the counter full of bottles a little ways away, watching as he makes a cocktail in a shaker with professional ease. He strains the drink into three cups, carrying all of them back, and Byleth and Dimitri take one each.

“You get what I’m drinking,” Yuri says, eyes wicked, and does not offer up what it is. Dimitri sips, and by the way it burns, he can tell it’s strong. Yuri looks faintly impressed with Dimitri’s lack of reaction beyond a few rapid blinks. “I’ll tell the Heir’s friends where he went, if I see them asking.”

“Thank you,” Dimitri says, realizing that he doesn’t know where any of them are at the moment.

Byleth merely nods, and motions for Dimitri to follow again.

The night air is refreshing, and Dimitri feels pleasantly floaty as he trails after his new friend. They round the Black Eagle complex and head into the dark woods behind; he doesn’t know where they’re going and feels like he shouldn’t ask; he has an idle thought that he should text one of his friends to let them know, but Byleth looks back at him to make sure he’s following and he can only think about how pretty she is. He smiles at her, and she tilts her head before reaching for his hand.

“Hand,” Dimitri says, looking down at them.

“Hand,” Byleth agrees. “The ground is uneven here.”

He looks a little longer and then swings them a little. Byleth looks amused.

He enjoys the silent companionship between them for a little while but quickly becomes curious, so he begins asking her questions. What year was she? A senior. Where did she live on campus? In Abyss, at the Ashen Wolf dorm. Her major? More or less the teaching program, with a focus on weapons and tactics. Technically it was something of a double major, paired with history and international studies. It was complicated. Her weapon concentrations? This year, faith and reason magic. She’d already passed for swords, brawling, and bows.

He stares at her open-mouthed as she answers his questions with easy patience.

“That’s…quite the curriculum,” he says slowly, “When do you sleep?”

She glances at him.

“I manage,” she says, “I could say the same for you.”

He pauses, looking up at the sky as he collects his thoughts, sipping at his drink absentmindedly. She must already know what his curriculum more or less was—the three heirs apparent of Adrestia, Faerghus, and Leicester attending the same school the same year had been quite the news, and though their ideas of management differed, they did also overlap in areas. A handful of their core classes were inevitably the same before they branched off into their own areas of interest. But in any case, all of them were double-majoring with incredibly heavy courseloads to help prepare for their futures.

“It’s just insomnia,” Dimitri says instead.

“Ah,” she says, nodding. “So, 3AM grocery shopping.”

“So 3AM grocery shopping,” he agrees.

He’s not sure how long they’ve been walking, but even if it’s been a long time, he finds this all terribly pleasant. A distant part of him is aware that he would not be this at ease had it not been for the drinks he’s had tonight. Alcohol is wonderful.

Byleth pushes through some branches, and they walk into a clearing, and Dimitri looks up at an enormous tree, his mouth open.

“Ta-da,” Byleth says, though her inflection doesn’t change, “Biggest tree on campus. Good place to sleep under.”

“Now?” Dimitri says, with some alarm.

“You could camp if you wanted to. But in the daytime,” Byleth tells him, drinking from her cup. “Try it sometime.”

He blinks at her, unsure if this is just a general suggestion or specifically geared advice.

“Not sure I could find it again,” he says, because he doesn’t recall the path they took at all, too distracted by other things. Also, despite the moon, it had been quite the dark trek.

“I’ll bring you,” she says simply.

They go closer to the tree, and Byleth reaches up to one of the lowest branches and snaps off two thin stalks of leaves, inspecting them before nodding.

“Okay, let’s go back.”

“Oh,” Dimitri says, a little dumbfounded, “Okay.”

They make their way back. Along the way, Dimitri finishes his drink, Byleth stumbles over a tree root (her shoes are heeled, he realizes just now, how did she trek all the way in those?), and Dimitri somewhat insistently offers her a piggy back ride. She accepts, loosely wrapping her arms around his neck with both of their empty cups stacked in one hand, and Dimitri feels just a little giddy. He wants to run. (He tells himself not to.)

“You know,” she says after a while, resting her chin on his shoulder, “You shouldn’t follow strangers into dark and unknown places.”

“Not a stranger,” Dimitri says, feeling exceedingly proud of himself for the response.

He feels rather than sees her smile, and is disappointed he can’t see it. When they make it to Dorothea’s, Sylvain and Felix are outside, and the former hollers when he sees him.

“You stupid boar, why the hell didn’t you pick up your phone?!” Felix hisses when they near, and Dimitri’s eyes widen.

Byleth hops off of his back (and Sylvain stares), and Dimitri pulls his phone out of his pocket to see six notifications of missed calls and texts.

“It was on silent,” Dimitri says apologetically, and Felix huffs. “Sorry.”

“Aw, no harm no foul,” Sylvain says, “Dimitri was just occupied, huh?”

“I kidnapped him,” Byleth says, throwing the two empty cups into a nearby trash can.

“We had an adventure,” Dimitri says, enthusiastically.

“Did you now,” Sylvain says, looking at Byleth, who merely stares back and adjusts her posture like a challenge. It only serves to make Sylvain more intrigued.

“This is Byleth,” Dimitri says, “From the dairy aisle!”

“Oh, the 3AM cheese goddess?” Sylvain says with a laugh, and Felix flushes at the stupid moniker as Byleth blinks in surprise.

“Yes,” Dimitri nods, “She says it’s only stocked…uh…”

“The fourth Tuesday of the month,” she supplies.

“What the fuck?” Felix says incredulously.

She shrugs. A chime goes off, and this time Byleth reaches into her bra to pull out her phone. All three boys stare at her.

“Gotta go,” she says, tapping out a quick reply. “Balthus is fighting someone.”

“Ah,” Dimitri says, wilting, his eyes and countenance like a sad puppy.  

“You’ll see me around,” Byleth tells him with a faint smile, and disappears back into the apartment.

“He’s smitten,” Sylvain whispers to Felix, watching Dimitri stare after her.  

“Disgusting,” Felix says back, scowling. “He’s also drunk. Did she say there was a fight?”

They head back in to find the rest of their friends to assure them that Dimitri is alive. There is indeed a fight, but a result of two very brawny guys—one presumably Balthus, the other Raphael—testing their abilities against each other. Dorothea is yelling, trying to get them to take it outside before they break things in her apartment and someone else gets hurt, to no avail.

Dimitri catches Yuri’s eye from across the crowd, who grins and waves in a cheeky sort of manner, pointing back to the ring. Byleth then appears, sliding her way in between them with impeccable timing and launching her own surprise attack. She punches the one with wild dark hair in the gut, then grabs him by the wrist and throws him to the floor. The apartment erupts in cheers.

“Aw, what the hell, Byleth!” Balthus yells, sitting up.

“Didn’t you hear the lady?” she says to both him and Raphael, who is also cheering, “Outside.”

“You deserved that, B,” Hapi chimes in, “You started it.”

“Alright, alright,” Balthus groans. “Round two outside, then!”

Sylvain elbows Felix, and they both look at Dimitri.

“Smitten,” Sylvain says.

“Disgusting,” Felix says, with feeling.

(Alcohol is terrible, Dimitri decides the next morning, when he wakes up with a massive hangover. He ventures out of his room and all three of his childhood friends—who are somehow already up, how was that possible?—stare at him in one coordinated movement to incredibly eerie effect. They also look how he feels.

“We’ve got the hangover cures,” Ingrid says, placing a plate of greasy breakfast food down as Sylvain holds up the full coffeepot and Felix rattles their mega-size bottle of aspirin. “So spill about what the hell happened last night.”

Dimitri demurs momentarily to brush his teeth and wash his face. After, he sits down at their common table, accepts a cup of coffee, and dutifully spills.)

.

It’s two weeks before he sees Byleth again, having not being able to catch a glimpse of her anywhere. Garreg Mach was a big university, and he hadn’t recognized her from campus previously, but…now that he was looking, he’d kind of expected to at least see her on occasion from a distance.

It’s another late-night chore night, and it’s about 1AM when he hauls his basket of dirty clothes to the laundry room. He expects the potential of others doing their laundry since the hour isn’t that late, but when he pushes through the doors he does not expect to see Byleth sitting on top of one of the washing machines, legs drawn up, a hardcover book perched on her lap.

She holds up a hand in greeting, as if she had been waiting for him to walk through the door.

“Hello,” Dimitri returns, blinking a few times, disoriented.

One, her legs are distracting him, because they are so bare and it doesn’t look like she’s wearing pants. Two, while she isn’t disallowed here to do laundry, this is the Blue Lion dorm. She lives in the Ashen Wolf dorm, which is oddly isolated from every other housing, so there is absolutely no reason for her to be doing laundry here, at a location of total inconvenience, at 1AM.  

“What are you doing here?” he ventures, walking over and setting down his basket in front of the empty one next to her.

Byleth lets her legs down so they dangle over the side of the washing machine, just over her sandals. She is wearing pants, he sees—or shorts, rather. They’re just…very short, and her oversized sweatshirt nearly covers them. She looks comfy, at least.

“Reading,” Byleth responds, holding up the book, A Treatise on Srengian Weaponcraft.

“You’re studying—here?” Dimitri asks incredulously.

Byleth shrugs.

“Good of a place as any,” she says.

“I...guess it could be,” Dimitri relents.

It’s not busy at this time, and the machines are top-notch, so the noise they produce could be acceptable enough ambience. He stares at her a minute before he moves on to load his clothes into the machine, carefully measuring out the detergent and pressing his desired settings. Byleth watches him, and when the immediate task is completed, Dimitri nervously faces her.

“I um…I’m sorry for my behavior at the party,” he says, trying not to wring his hands as he thinks about the piggyback ride. “My actions were—overfamiliar.”

“On the contrary,” Byleth counters easily, “You helped me out.”

He brightens a little at that, and she tilts her head at him. After a moment she smiles a little, and Dimitri feels his heart skip a beat.

“How was the morning after?” she asks, and Dimitri coughs at the wording.

“Not ideal,” he admits, rubbing the max of his neck. “My tolerance is not very high. But I recovered.”

“I’ll note that,” she says, with a nod. “Yuri hits hard with his drinks. You took it well, considering.”

He debates whether to bring up his lack of taste, but decides against it. That conversation always goes one way, and he doesn’t want to bring up past tragedies and traumas, right now.

“You were okay?” he asks instead, and she gives him an amused look.

“High tolerance,” she says. “Father’s side.”

“Ah,” Dimitri nods. Not that he knows her very well, but she hadn’t seemed drunk at all—though by the time he’d run into her in the kitchen he wasn’t confident in his own observational accuracy. He doesn’t know where to go from here, and his eyes fall on her book. “So…Srengian weaponry?” he tries, and winces at the awkwardness of the delivery.

But Byleth nods.

“Known for their maces,” she says absently, cracking the text open again, “But their other weapons have some good durability.” She pauses, looking at him. “Might be a worthwhile investment.”

He blinks. The Blaiddyd line is well-known for their greater-than-average strength, and Dimitri is no exception. Still, he hates how easily things break in his hands; even iron and steel can shatter in his grip if he’s startled. But Byleth offers this suggestion so matter-of-factly, as if she were recommending a flavor of ice cream or color of shirt, that he can’t even be embarrassed about it.

“It might be,” Dimitri says eventually. “I’ll look into it. Sylvain has contacts in Sreng.”

“So do I, if you need another,” Byleth says, and Dimitri blinks at her again.

Sreng’s clan politics are notoriously turbulent, and Sylvain only had actual contacts because he had been trying to improve relations as the next head of House Gautier, whose lands bordered Sreng. Otherwise, Sreng wasn’t usually a place people had, or could get, contacts in.

“You…have contacts in Sreng?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“My father used to be a mercenary before a bodyguard,” Byleth says absently, “So I grew up as one, too. We used to travel a lot.”

There’s more to it, Dimitri can tell, but he doesn’t push, purely because he doesn’t know what, exactly, to ask.

“There more I learn about you, the less I seem to know,” he says with a wry smile after a minute.

She stares at him.

“And to me, you feel familiar,” she murmurs.

His eyes widen.

“Oh,” he says.

“Oh,” she agrees.

There’s silence.

“I only ever seem to meet you unexpectedly,” he ventures, after a long while. The washer beeps, the lock to the door releasing. He goes to open it.

“I’m not a ghost,” Byleth says, watching as he takes out his damp clothes and begins moving them to the dryer.

“That’s relieving,” he smiles. “I also only ever seem to see you at night.”

She only smiles faintly at that.

“Let’s spar,” she says.

“Wha—now?”

“No, tomorrow,” she says. “During the day.”

He’s not entirely sure what brought this on, but he does think he’d like very much to see her fight.

“After one o’clock?” He asks, wracking his brain for his schedule, and she considers it for a moment before nodding and hopping off of the washing machine.

She slides her feet back into her sandals ad begins walking away. Dimitri panics for a moment, because they haven’t hashed out any details.

“Wait! How will we—?”

“I’ll make myself visible,” Byleth says, already halfway out the door as she peeks back, “You won’t miss me.”

And then she’s gone. Dimitri shakes his head as he finishes moving the rest of his laundry. Once he straightens back up, he realizes she’s left her book.

A tether, he thinks.

After a moment, as he waits for his clothes to dry, he picks it up and cracks it open.

A good of a place to read as any.  

.

He tries to not tell his friends after lunch where he’s going (and technically, he doesn’t even know), but his antsiness is apparent, so his secret-keeping fails spectacularly. Sylvain and Ingrid tag team him, and he gives Ingrid a betrayed look.

“Fellas, do we think it’s a date?” Sylvain asks, holding out his hands as if he’s addressing a council.

“It’s sparring,” Ingrid says, “Not a date.”

“Could be a date,” Felix says.

“Only you would consider that a date,” Sylvain laments.

Felix shoves him. Dimitri hurries along, trying to leave them behind in the cafeteria to no avail. He really wishes he had been more insistent on details last night, because in a few moments, he’ll be at a loss of where he should be heading.

It’s a needless worry, because as he walks out, he is reminded of Byleth’s words. In the distance, where the space opens up and there are benches situated along walkways, an enormous amount of birds are flocking.

“Oh,” Dimitri says, and when his friends catch up behind him, they also stare.

“What the hell is that?” Felix says, and Dimitri picks his way towards the mass.

“Byleth, I think,” Dimitri answers faintly. “She said I wouldn’t miss her.”

When they near the birds scatter in one movement, though some brave ones flutter back. Byleth is indeed revealed to have been in the middle—and cause—of that, a bag of birdseed mostly empty in her hands. She nods her head in greeting as Sylvain starts laughing.

“Hello,” Ingrid says, whacking Sylvain once, but he doesn’t stop and doubles over instead, “I think I missed out on meeting you properly at Dorothea’s. I’m Ingrid.”

She holds out her hand, and Byleth says her name in return as she shakes it.

“I want in on the spar,” Felix says, and Sylvain wheezes, his laughter abruptly cut off by Felix’s self-imposed third-wheeling status of this potential date.

“Okay,” Byleth says without hesitation, and Ingrid and Sylvain sigh. Not a date.  

Dimitri isn’t offended, mostly intrigued. Byleth stands, brushing feathers and seeds off of her lap, and sets off in the direction of the gyms and training halls. The others follow, Ingrid and Sylvain too interested to stay behind.

Dimitri had brought a change of clothes, but it becomes evident that Byleth intends to fight in her jeans and nice blouse and heeled boots, so he doesn’t end up changing. There’s no conversation, though Sylvain fills the silence with chatter anyway, as if this is a routine they know well.

Byleth picks up a practice sword and Felix’s eyes gleam; Dimitri picks up a practice lance, handling it with a light touch.

“Best two out of three,” Byleth says, and Dimitri nods.

She lets him take first hit, the two of them warming up as they trade easy blows. She’s quick, but so is Dimitri despite his size. He does well enough at keeping her at a distance, but he misreads her intention and she lunges in close, tapping her blade against his ribs.

“Point!” Sylvain calls excitedly.

“No need to go easy,” she says, “For lances, the moment the distance closes, you have to be quick and readjust, or it’s over.”

“Yes, Professor,” Dimitri says, the title slipping out. “Ah—”

Byleth gives him an amused look but doesn’t comment, getting back into position.

They go again. Dimitri throws away some of his reservations but still not entirely, and she lands the second round too.

“Harder,” she says, and Sylvain whistles as Dimitri flushes.

“I’m concerned about my strength,” he admits, examining the practice lance. Breakage of the practice equipment itself is no matter, but it’s the ensuing issues that can arise.

“Mercenary training, remember,” Byleth says, and though they don’t see it, Felix, Sylvain, and Ingrid’s eyebrows rise.

Dimitri frowns, but takes a deep breath, and trusts her.

He whirls. Byleth’s reflexes are excellent and she dodges fairly easily, tracking his moments with an even sharper gaze than before. He doesn’t like fighting, but he’s been trained since he was a child; it wasn’t necessary in this day and age to know how to—it was more common to just hire protection detail against demonic or wild beasts, or other enemies—but those descended from the old noble bloodlines especially still held onto tradition, whether as a hobby or actual self-protection. Even so, he can tell the difference between them; she’s seen real battle, and though he has too, not in the same capacity. The way she strategizes and reads his movements in a split second is incredible.

The cracks from their clashing practice blades are louder, and Dimitri registers that his will shatter soon. It’s hard to control his strength when the fight is so exhilarating. He goes for it anyway, jumping back from her slash and spinning his lance in his hands rapidly; Byleth’s eyes narrow, and he lunges.

He just barely sees her move, her timing is impeccable—she jumps, stomping the tip of the lance into the ground before stepping forward and snapping his lance at its weakest point. As her foot hits the ground, she crouches low and sweeps his legs out from under him.

When he opens his eyes, she has her sword under his chin.

“A good move,” she says, “But it’s going to take more than that to catch me.”

She’s not even saying it flirtatiously. She does, however, smile at little at him before offering a hand up, and Dimitri thinks he might be in love.

“Oh, he’s done for,” Sylvain says under his breath.

“He doesn’t deserve her,” Felix scoffs, his tone almost bored, but his eyes are bright at the display of Byleth’s skill.  

Ingrid doesn’t say anything, and when the two boys turn to her, having expected her to respond, they see her typing furiously on her phone.

“Traitor,” Felix says, clicking his tongue.

“Just doing my duty,” Ingrid replies solemnly.

(Felix also loses all three bouts against Byleth, though he comes close the third time. Afterwards, they all end up training together, and even Sylvain puts his mind to it after Ingrid drags him onto the field.

“We’re getting milkshakes,” Ingrid declares, after they wrap up.

She’s sitting on the ground while Sylvain is lying flat on his back. Felix and Dimitri are less expressive, but they too look worn. Byleth is unreadable, but she does, at least, look a little winded. She offers a hand to Ingrid, while Felix rolls his eyes and pulls Sylvain up after he complains.  

“Dimitri’s buying yours, Byleth,” Ingrid says, and the two in question look surprised.

“Oh,” Byleth says, “I—”

“Allow me,” Dimitri smiles.

Byleth blinks at him.

“Okay,” she says. “Thank you.”

Felix and Sylvain look at Ingrid, who looks smug.

“I’ll buy yours, Ingrid,” Sylvain says, with a discreet salute.

“I’m buying my own,” Felix tells them.

They all fall into step. Byleth politely listens to them squabble all the way to the shop.)

.

Byleth comes and goes when she wants to, like a cat or a ghost.

On a few occasions she shows up during their group lunches, stealing fries or other sides off of someone’s plate (mostly Dimitri’s), staying only to chat for a few minutes before she is off again. Sometimes she is in the company of her friends—the ones Dimitri met at Dorothea’s party (who he learns are also her suitemates) or Linhardt von Hevring, who seems to be either half-asleep or hyperfocused on his thesis project. Dimitri actually does see her around campus sometimes now, but he does see her friends more than he does her.

“Dunno what to say about that,” Yuri tells him, when he and Dimitri cross paths and are walking the same way to their next classes, “Half the time she’s not in her room and none of us know where she is. She’s always been like that. That’s just Byleth.”

“You’ve known her long?” Dimitri queries.

“Maybe around—five, six years? Constance, Hapi, Balthus, and I banded together after some…unfortunate circumstances. Byleth helped us out of a tight spot during our last year of high school. Stuck with her ever since.”

“I see,” Dimitri says, and Yuri glances at him.

“You’re not bad, Princeling,” Yuri says after a moment. Most people want to pry into the “unfortunate circumstances” and “tight spot” that he spoke of, and Yuri feels more inclined towards Dimitri for not doing so.

Dimitri winces instead.

“It’s just…”

He trails off. Yuri can guess why.

“Ohh. Yeah, okay. I get it.”

Dimitri blinks at him in surprise.

“You do?”

Yuri doesn’t answer that. There’s little he doesn’t know about the people on campus; the Blaiddyd Heir didn’t question Yuri, so Yuri will not question him in turn.

“Byleth’s Byleth,” he says instead, “Count yourself lucky that she makes a point to find you.”

With that, Yuri nods his head and turns into his classroom. Dimitri stands there, mulling over Yuri’s words, before he realizes that he’s running late and dashes to his own class.

.

There’s a small park nearby that Dimitri goes to as well during the nights he can’t sleep. All it has is a couple of benches and a swingset and a basketball court; a surprising number of people use both during the day, but unsurprisingly, no one’s there at night.

Except Byleth. Dimitri is no longer startled when he comes across her, even though her presence is always more unexpected than not. She’s swinging on the swings, kicking up woodchips as she drags her feet.

“Hi,” Dimitri says, walking closer. “Need a push?”

She nods, and he helps her swing higher. Pretty quickly the height she reaches seems dangerous, but she just calls “higher” and so he keeps pushing, until it seems like she is going to go over the whole set.

“Um,” Dimitri says, pushing her once more, and she glances at him as she surges up.

As she glides forward and reaches the highest point—she jumps.

Dimitri yells, startled, but she soars through the air, serene and graceful with her arms outstretched, hair spreading out behind her. She nails the landing a ways away, and when she turns back to him, she has a faint smile curving her lips, looking—exhilarated.

“You scared me,” Dimitri says, holding a hand over his rapidly beating heart.

“Sorry,” she murmurs, as she walks back to him. “Again?”

He frowns at her. She tilts her head. Something about the way she went through the air—he can’t place that brand of fear. He gives himself a shake, forces a weak smile onto his face.

“Okay,” he says, and she blinks at him a few times before seating herself back on the swing.

She jumps three more times before she’s satisfied, then offers to push him if he wants a turn, or four. He politely declines, but sits on the other swing, and they move back and forth lazily.

“Drink for your thoughts?” she asks after a while, and rummages through her bag that he didn’t see earlier, pulling out a glass water bottle.

Dimitri debates, taking the bottle warily.

“Did Yuri make this?” he asks, shaking it a little, and Byleth smiles at him.

“Constance did,” she says. “It’s pleasant.”

It smells fruity when he opens the top, so he takes her word for it. It goes down easily and doesn’t burn at all, so he assumes (hopes) it’s of the weaker alcohol content variety as well.

“Do you…know what you’re going to do after you graduate?” he asks hesitantly, passing the drink back to her.

Once the question is out, he realizes the truth of it—Byleth will be graduating at the end of this year. The fact saddens him more strongly than he would have thought.

She’s silent for a while, sipping twice from her bottle.

“Yes and no,” she says finally. Opens her mouth as if to speak again, closes it. Turns to him. “You’re thinking about your position as heir.”

“I want it,” he says automatically, then pauses to consider if that’s true. It doesn’t feel like a lie, but…“I…I have never known anything else.”

Byleth looks at him, leans forward a little so that her hair falls forward too.

“That’s okay too,” she says, “To want—or to be okay with—what others want of you, until you don’t.”

He looks back at her.

“How will I know if I don’t?” he asks.

“You’ll know. Or…your friends will be able to tell.” She pauses, swings a little. “It’s hard to say.”

“You seem to have all the answers,” he says, and she raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not sure I really gave you any,” she says.

“That helped, nonetheless,” he says, with a smile. “Thank you.”

She smiles back.

They share the drink between them until Byleth speaks again.

“I avoided your question earlier,” she says.

“Technically you answered it,” he responds, drinking again.

She snorts, and laughs a little. Dimitri feels inordinately proud of himself.

“I’m answering it again, then,” she says, though she pauses still. “I might want to be a teacher. I might want to do what my father does.” She cocks her head. “I’ve been given a lot of choices. Theoretically, I could do anything I want.” She looks at him. “I don’t know what I want.”

Dimitri pauses, holds her gaze.

“It’s okay to not want, until you do?” he tries, and she laughs again.

“Does it work like that?”

“It could,” Dimitri says. “Probably?” He pauses. “You could pick one until you don’t want it anymore.”

Byleth swings.

“It could work like that,” she says with a slight nod. She glances at him. “Thanks.”

He gives her a helpless sort of shrug, not feeling like he really gave her an answer, either. He guesses he understands how she felt just a few moments ago, then.

“Bottoms up,” she says, and drains half of the remaining liquid in the bottle, handing the rest to Dimitri to finish up.

He does so dutifully, and she puts the empty bottle back in her bag. After, she kicks off the ground, swinging higher and higher. Dimitri watches her, then gets up, walking a bit of a distance away. She watches him in turn, then flashes him a sort of sharp smile before she pumps her legs once more for momentum, then sends herself flying.

He gauges the distance, adjusting his position, then catches her as she comes hurtling down.

“Oof,” he says, as their bodies collide and he wraps his arms around her.

“Nice,” she says into his neck, then leans back to look at him.

Oh. She’s so close. His eyes widen as he stares, lips slightly parted; her expression is unreadable, but she isn’t looking away, and he can feel her breath on his skin as she tilts a little closer, his heart beating so fast he swears she must hear it—

He lets her down. His brain immediately starts screaming. Idiot idiot idiot, why did you do that, WHY DID YOU DO THAT??? WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT???

Byleth, for her part, looks unruffled and unperturbed.

“Finals are coming up,” Dimitri says, very smoothly.

She nods, walking back to the swingset to take her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder.

“If we’re awake, we might as well study,” she says, very seriously.

He follows her out of the park, walks her back to the dorm partway.

“Good night,” she says.

“Good night,” he echoes, and he watches her walk away until he can’t see her anymore.

When she’s out of sight, he squats down and puts his head in his hands.

(He puts himself on trial tomorrow, when his friends are awake. Sylvain and Felix sit across from him, and their gazes are piercing when he recounts the previous night. Ingrid does not sit at the table because she is more inclined to be sympathetic, and moves in the background making a smoothie for herself.

Sylvain wails when Dimitri tells That Part of the story. Felix is silent, just sits there with folded arms and looks so many levels of disappointed, though it’s probably not necessarily just about this one thing.

It’s like that maybe for forty-five minutes, this whole pathetic display. Ingrid leans against the counter, drinks her smoothie, and recounts a play-by-play on her phone into one of her group chats.)

.

Dimitri does not see Byleth again until they are well into finals week, and he tries not to despair.

“It is finals week,” Mercedes says soothingly.

“And she’s a senior,” Annette adds. “She’s gotta be super busy!”

“Plus, you said you never know when you see her!” Ashe says helpfully, “It’s been longer before, right?”

“But,” Sylvain almost howls, pulling at his hair, “After that? AFTER THAT?”

“Sylvain!” Annette and Ashe scold, but Dimitri feels the same. He doesn’t even have the number so he can apologize, because she always appears and disappears so suddenly that it keeps slipping his mind to ask.

Felix’s frown has grown more severe. Ingrid and Dedue look at each other and back at Dimitri, and say nothing. Mercedes and Annette look at Ingrid almost pleadingly, who gives them a sheepish shrug.

“It’ll be okay, Dimitri!” Annette tries again, and he lets out a sad sort of keen.

“For now, just focus on finals,” Mercedes suggests, “And then maybe it’ll all work out afterwards?”

“It will at least be a distraction,” Dedue finally chimes in.

Dimitri says nothing. Sylvain says it all for him.

.

Dimitri sees Byleth’s friends around a few times, and though he knows them and they know him, he hasn’t spoken to them very much, so he feels awkward asking after Byleth. Yuri, on the other hand, he knows better, and the boy looks amused when Dimitri (hopefully) casually brings her up.

Yuri has nothing new to share though, except he does insinuate that Byleth is hard at work at finalizing her thesis paper. Dimitri calms a little at that—enough to focus better on his own work later. Yuri gives him a look and pats his shoulder lightly before walking off.    

As always, when Dimitri does find Byleth, it’s unexpected.

He’s half dead after finishing his last final, one that took place in one of the more isolated buildings on campus. Pleased that he’s finally done with that, at least, he takes the scenic route back to his dorm—there’s a glass hallway that cuts through a forested area with a river, and it’s especially beautiful this time of year.

As he looks out, movement catches his eye down below, and he’s startled to see Byleth come out from under the old stone bridge and look up at him.

His heart leaps to his throat. She waves, and he waves back hesitantly, and then she motions for him to come down.

Dimitri looks left and right, trying to figure out the best way to reach her, and he goes.

He’s slightly out of breath when he reaches her, and she has a pile of stones in her hand when he does. He blinks at them, meeting her eyes, confused and mildly concerned as to what she might use them for. Is she angry? But she’d waved him down…but was it because she was angry and about to give him a piece of her mind?

“Do you know how to skip stones?” she asks, and it takes him a minute to process.

“I…suppose I’ve never tried,” he admits.

She nods, then proceeds to do so, showing him the method. He watches as she considers the angle, then snaps her wrist as she throws the stone, which skips beautifully across the surface of the river before hitting the other side. Byleth deposits half of the stones into Dimitri’s hand, and they spend the next few minutes skipping stones—or in Dimitri’s case, trying and failing.

He ends up becoming focused on trying to succeed, Byleth keeping him stocked with a steady supply of choice stones. When he finally manages to skip one (though it only skips once before it plops into the water), he shouts in triumph, turning to her excitedly.

“Did you see that?!” he says, and freezes when he catches sight of her face.

She’s smiling, the expression both amused and proud and gentle and absolutely, absolutely mesmerizing.

“It’s nice to focus on things that aren’t exams,” she says, turning back to the river. “You’re all done?”

“Y-yes,” Dimitri stutters. “You too?”

She nods, checking her phone.

“Handed in my last paper yesterday,” she says absently, “Finished up packing up my things today.”

His throat goes dry. It feels like the world is slanting and narrowing to this point, where Byleth leaves and steps out of his life forever (forever?) and this is where it ends.

“Oh,” he says, and it comes out as almost a whisper. He clears his throat nervously. “Oh. I—do you need help moving anything?”

“No, it’s okay,” Byleth says, “I don’t…have too many things anyway. I just wanted to—”

“It would be no trouble!” Dimitri blurts, somewhat frantic. He’s cutting her off, he knows, and it’s stupid to think that if he prolongs the conversation she’ll stay a little longer, but—it’s not exactly wrong, either, is it? “I mean, I’m sure some things would be heavy, and I could—”

She looks a little surprised at his interruption, but blinks it away.

“No, I—”

“It would be faster, probably, but I mean, not that I want you to leave faster—”

“Dimitri—”

“—the opposite, really, but I mean, you’re graduating! That’s exciting, I’m sure you can’t wait to be out of here—”

“Dimitri—”

“You probably have some great summer plans, and I hope you will—”

“Go out with me.”

“Yes, exactly, go out with me, I—what?”

He snaps to attention, thinking surely he must have heard wrong. Despite the fact he was unraveling at the seams, Byleth looks amused, if also a little worried.

“I’m—sorry, could you repeat that?” he breathes, and Byleth shifts her position a little, the movement just slightly unusual.

“Go out with me?” she says again, though it’s pitched more as a question this time.

Oh, Goddess, he hadn’t heard wrong. And…that shifting, the pitch of her tone, was she—nervous?

Dimitri gapes at her and she meets his gaze calmly, though after a prolonged silence she looks to the side, tilting her head down a little as if embarrassed.

“You…can say no, you know,” she says softly, and he blanches.

“No! I mean, yes! I mean—I’d like to go out with you very much,” he says, defaulting to a more formal tone and posture out of desperation.

She looks back up at him and smiles again.

“I’m…glad I didn’t misunderstand your heartbeat last time,” she says, and he both winces and flushes at the reminder of that night.

“I—panicked,” he says, looking away. “But I…regretted it very much, after.”

“I know,” Byleth says.

“You know?” he asks, mouth falling open a little.

She only nods, amused again, but offers no explanation.

“Come here,” she says, motioning for him to lean down.

He does, and she kisses his cheek.

“Hand,” she says, and he obeys mechanically, shocked by that simple action.  

Byleth pulls out a marker and scrawls on his wrist. He stares at it incredulously when she pulls away.

“My number,” she says pointedly when he doesn’t say anything. “I do actually have to go, but call me. Or text me. Whatever. Don’t be a stranger.”

“Of…course not,” he says, somewhat in awe. This is happening, it’s really happening.

Byleth looks like she wants to laugh again, but she gives him a little wave and makes her way back up to the building. It takes him too long to recover and realize that he should have walked her back. When he does regain his senses, however, he pulls out his phone, typing out a text as fast as he can.

Can we meet over the summer?

It’s only a few minutes before he receives a reply.

Yes.

Are you free next week?

Yes.

Canitakeyououttuesdayarounclunchtime

There’s a few seconds of pause, and Dimitri suspects she is laughing.

Yes. It’s a date.

He grins stupidly at his phone, rereading the conversation over and over again until he’s satisfied. Then he runs back to his dorm, throwing open the door with wild abandon.

“Guess what!” he shouts into the room, and he’s in luck, because all three of his suitemates are there, each in the midst of something different. Sylvain pokes his head out of his room, Felix looks up from the stove, and Ingrid looks over from the laundry she’s folding.

“Oh, shit, really?” Sylvain says, taking in Dimitri’s expression and also honing in on the number on Dimitri’s wrist. “You finally got her number?”

“We’re dating!” he announces, then pauses. “I mean, well, if I understood correctly, unless she was just—?”

“You’re dating,” Ingrid tells him before anxiety can take him over, grinning widely. “Congrats.”

Felix just waves the spatula in his hand, but he mutters thank the Goddess—about fucking time under his breath.

Sylvain, who is closest, is the first to be subjected to one of Dimitri’s bone-crushing hugs, and even spun around a few times. Felix hisses from where he stands, but is unable to escape being next in line. Ingrid laughs and pats Dimitri’s back when it’s her turn.

“Had a good semester?” she asks fondly.

“It was an excellent semester,” Dimitri says brightly.

“Disgusting,” Felix grumbles, and Ingrid and Sylvain laugh.

.

.

.

Dimitri knocks on the door nervously, trying not to fidget too much as he waits. He doesn’t have to wait long, however—but when the door opens, his eyes go wide.

A man roughly his own height, muscular and rugged with a scar across his cheekbone, a grave sort of face, and an air of someone who demands respect without having to ask for it, stands in the doorway with a large mug in hand.

“Can I help you?” he asks, his voice rough and deep.

Dimitri’s attention goes to the mug for a moment, which he registers reads “World’s Best Dad” in big letters, confirming his assumptions.

“I’m—here to pick up Byleth?” Dimitri manages, and to his relief, Byleth’s father simply nods and turns back into the house.

“By! Your Blaiddyd boy is here!” then, turning back to Dimitri, “Come in.”

He wonders briefly how he knows who Dimitri is on sight; his name might be well known enough, but he tries to stay out of anything where his image might be broadcasted. He steps inside cautiously, then glances at the man again. There’s something strangely familiar about him that he can’t quite place, and it’s not because of his relation to Byleth, because they look nothing alike.

“The kid’ll be a minute,” her father says, “Anyway, I’m Jeralt. Obviously, I’m By’s dad.”

“I’m Dimitri Blaiddyd,” Dimitri introduces, with a weak smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Jeralt just grunts and pats Dimitri’s shoulder in acknowledgement before offering him coffee, which Dimitri accepts out of nervousness. The drink is potent and bracing, without sugar or milk, and Jeralt refills his own mug.

Dimitri peeks at him from over the rim, still trying to figure out why Jeralt is familiar as the man stretches, the multitude of pops and cracks coming from his body making Dimitri wince.

“Don’t get old,” Jeralt tells him, “How reckless you were in your youth doesn’t fuck around when it cashes in.”

“You’re reckless now,” Byleth says as she comes down the stairs. “Cut back on the drinking.”

She’s in a loose blouse and mid-length skirt this time, a pink headband decorating her hair. Every time Dimitri seems her she seems to be sporting a different style. It’s fun.

Jeralt grunts.

“Yeah, well, can’t avoid recklessness in my line of work, and Rhea sure as hell don’t know how to take it easy. Trust me, the drinks are necessary.”

It clicks, then, and Dimitri almost cracks the cup in his hands. He lets out a strangled noise, and both Byleth and Jeralt look at him.

“You’re Jeralt Eisner,” he wheezes, looking to Byleth and back to Jeralt again. “You guard Madam Rhea—you’re the Blade Breaker, Seiros Security’s finest!”

Jeralt drinks his coffee.

“Well, it’s embarrassing to be called that, and also—kid, he didn’t know?”

Byleth shrugs. “Never came up.”

Jeralt sighs.

“Well, there it is, then. Yeah, Rhea and I go…way back, and now I’m in charge of her security company. By’s been trained since she was a kid, so…if you have any issues, she’s got your back.”

Dimitri looks at Byleth, who flashes him a peace sign with a deadpan expression.

“Thank you,” he says, for lack of anything else to say. She nods.

Jeralt looks amused, then waves them off.

“Anyway, have fun or whatever, and bring him back by curfew if he has one, kid.”

Byleth nods, and Dimitri looks back and forth, unable to fully process the information he’s just learned. But Byleth tugs him along, they’re out of the house and in his car before he regains his senses and looks at her.

“Every time I see you, you surprise me,” he says, and Byleth smiles faintly.

“Yuri says a lady cannot reveal her secrets,” she says, “But I think I’d like to start sharing them with you.”

Dimitri blinks at her, surprised, but then smiles.

“I’d be honored if you did,” he says. “There are…things I’d like to tell you as well, in time.”

She nods, looking pleased.

“We’ve got plenty,” she says. “So, where to?”

“There’s a new Duscurian spot that opened up a couple miles away. I was thinking we try it?”

“Lead the way,” Byleth smiles.

Dimitri starts driving. He lets Byleth choose the music and roll down the window; the wind ruffles their hair vigorously and she tries to keep it out of his face for him, which makes him laugh before she just rolls the windows up again.

He knows this is just the beginning, but there’s happiness bubbling up in his chest and a sense of ease and contentment over them both—so what he also knows is that it’s going to be a wonderful summer.  

[machinequeen4]

Fic rec bingo list!

I thought I’d fill out this fic rec bingo card, posted by @lightveils on Twitter!

It sort of turned into the History of MachineQueen in Fanfiction. All you unsung heroes who write and publish fanfic, I love you and remember your names.

Recs for Fire Emblem Fates, Fire Emblem Three Houses, Yu-gi-oh, Doctor Who, RWBY, Ace Attorney, Tales of Graces follow!

1. A fic you love without knowing the source material

Undone - codenamecynic, Dragon Age II, E rated, Fenris/Female Hawke, multichap 135k words

https://archiveofourown.org/works/482156/chapters/838851

I know nothing about Dragon Age and can’t remember why I decided to read it. TV Tropes maybe?  From what I can tell it’s the events of the game with additional sex scenes. Hawke is witty, Fenris is a tragic broken bird, I was sold.

2. A fic with a premise that shouldn’t work but it does

Trial and Error - undieshogun, Fire Emblem Fates, T rated, Subaki/Takumi, multichap 15k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6890677/chapters/15719992

Not so much a premise but a ship I wasn’t convinced on. But it had Subaki in it so I gave it a try. It’s really cute - Subaki tries to teach Takumi social skills, much to his annoyance. 

This line alone is gold star characterisation:

"I couldn't tell you why Tsubaki has taken such a liking to you, but I do know that any time he wants to befriend someone, it's because he sees in them something he lacks."

3. A fic you’ve reread several times

Gratitude - GoldenThreads, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, multichap 8k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20344273/chapters/48239686

The writing style is so beautifully layered that I find new meaning every time I read it. The scene where Ferdinand offers a hairpin for each story Hubert tells is gorgeous, one of my favourites to reread. 

4. A fic you still remember many years later

A Song I Think I Heard Before - Scribbler, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, Mai/Jounouchi (Joey), multichap 40k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/5924028/1/A_Song_I_Think_I_Heard_Before

My favourite Mai fic. This gives her a backstory with Dartz based villainy and recontextualises her relationship with Jou (Joey in the dub, most YGO authors used the JP names to distance themselves from 4Kids’ added cheese). I was on tenterhooks waiting for each new chapter. It’s got real emotional depth, capturing Mai’s cynical nature perfectly. Also I still think about/use the phrase bumblefuck in the morning. 

5. A comfort fic

just a little stuck on you (you’ll be on me too) - flowermoons, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, one chap 33k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875707

This brings the cast of FE3H to the modern world and drops them into reality TV show The X Factor. There’s no war or death angst, just a singing contest. I grew up with The X Factor on TV on a Saturday night so this was a delight. Like me, the author is cynical about reality TV which makes the fic even more engaging. Ferdinand mourning his long hair after he cuts it and Hubert running round London looking for him really made my day. 

6. A catharthic fic

Long and Lost - Windian, Tales of Graces, M rated, Richard/Asbel, multichap 36k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5357546/chapters/12372899

Listen game, you can’t spend 40 hours having the protagonist’s motivation as ‘save Richard’ and then pull a no homo on me! In this fic Asbel dutifully marries Cheria only for the whole thing to collapse in on itself when he realises he’s in love with Richard after all. The snow storm scene is something I’ll always remember.

7. A fic you’d like to print and put on your bookshelf

Revival series - MyAibou, Yu-gi-oh,  T rated, multiship, many k

http://fanfiction.net/s/2681684/1/Revival-Prologue-Paradox

This is split into multiple parts and has another multipart followup. A continuation of Yu-gi-oh Duel Monsters with shipping and very decent original characters including villains. My polarshipping heart is in love with this scene on the clifftop in part 2 chapter 11 - a slow dance to the sound of the waves to help Mai remember she isn’t alone *melts into a puddle*

8. A fic you associate with a song

Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been - darkrunner, Yu-gi-oh, rated K+, Mai/Jou, multichap 9k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4445992/1/Who-I-Am-Hates-Who-I-ve-Been

It’s titled after a song. This was one of the first fics I ever found, read and loved. I was way too shy to review but I loved this author dearly. Good old angst & hurt/comfort with a happy ending. A happy ending for Mai was all I wanted haha!

9. A fic that inspires you

Patience, Ponies and Pastries - GoldenThreads, Fire Emblem Three Houses, T rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, multichap, 27k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20722859/chapters/49231019

A shipping fic where the two characters being shipped spend most of the fic apart! This author is so good at characterising the pair, there are treasures hidden throughout. I never thought reading about horses of all things could make me so emotional... 

And this passage from Ferdinand’s point of view:

As long as Hubert did not truly reject such affection, did not throw him in the stocks for his bleeding heart, then he did not require reciprocation. He required that Hubert be cherished, and that was that.

10. A fic that brought you on board a new ship

Marik and Bakura Go To Censored Town - Little Kuriboh, Yu-gi-oh, M rated, multichap, 24k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6954805/1/Marik-Bakura-Go-To-Censored-Town

I spent most of my Yu-gi-oh fandom life wishing there were more fics about Mai and tended to avoid the big slash ships. However, Yu-gi-oh Abridged’s strongest pair were always Marik and Bakura. When I read this fic I realised yes, Marik being an idiot and Bakura being the straight man (not literally) makes this ship sing.

11. A fic you wish could be a movie

Denial & Deception - Bohemienne, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, multichap, 74k (incomplete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895731/chapters/49671050

The setting of Derdriu is so lushly described that it would make a wonderful movie setting. Additional points for the masked ball chapters! 

Hubert and Ferdinand infiltrate the Leicester Alliance using a fake relationship. It goes as well as you might expect. There is comedy, there is romance and the whole thing makes you want to smack Hubert round the face with a fish. 

12. A fic that led to you making friends with the author

Past Future Continuous - HermitsUnited, Doctor Who, T rated, multichap 20k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/4917490/1/Past-Future-Continuous

We are not in contact anymore but we shared a love of Donna Noble. This shines through in all her alternate season 5 fics! 

13. A fic you’ve gushed about IRL

Festering Under Your Skin - Bohemienne, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, multichap 52k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20465312/chapters/48559553

My poor gf had to put up with me going on about this one. Lady Edelgard is dead and Ferdinand is a Blue Lion who spares Hubert. All of this is played for maximum dramatic potential. Special marks for the scene where Ferdinand accidentally poisons himself with Hubert’s coffee. So brilliantly in character for both of them. And excellently foreshadowed earlier in the fic where an imprisoned Hubert keeps asking for his coffee... 

14. A fic you associate with a place

Heart of Defiance - battlemage15, RWBY, M rated, multichap 150k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7896874/chapters/18038116

I downloaded this to my phone and read it on the top deck of the number 6 bus as it bumped along the country roads of deepest Devon. I was on my way to job interviews in the city and the trip was 2 hours long. The fic itself is a Yang centric shonen power fantasy that goes to pretty dark places. 

15. A fic that made you gasp out loud

Blood and Ink - ShowMeYourFury, RWBY, M rated, Cinder/Ruby, multichap 45k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/11754595/1/Blood-and-Ink

This fic is ruthless with Cinder’s villainy. Every time you think she can’t go any further, she does. I love it. 

16. A fic you found at the right time

Forward - Lyricanna, Fire Emblem Fates, not rated, multichap, 34k (incomplete)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747516/chapters/29075913

I love the concept of this fic so much. Subaki is selected to be a Hoshidan ambassador in Nohr and gets lumped with Niles as a guide. Neither is having a good time. There is a plot going on involving kidnapping and asassination that forces them to work together. 

17. A fic that you would read fic of

The Obligatory Hot Spring Scene - Scribbler, Yu-gi-oh, T rated, oneshot, sub 1k

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/6368612/1/The-Obligatory-Hot-Spring-Scene

Written as though the characters are actors and canon is a TV show. I love this concept and would read more in a similar vein

18. A fic that made you laugh out loud

Surrender To Your Peace - spiralpegasus, Fire Emblem Three Houses, M rated, Sylvain/Felix, one chap, 11k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20757260

“This is very unfortunate,” Dimitri says with a frown. “As the leader of this mission, I will take full responsibility and use the Swamp Bedroll.”

One does not simply sacrifice themselves to He Who Saw The Bottom Of The Earth And Lived with such a cavalier attitude. “You know your guilt complex doesn’t actually have to extend to sleeping in a gross swamp bag,” Sylvain tells him disbelievingly.

“I agree, Your Highness,” Dedue says, setting He Whose Stench Haunts The Dreams Of Man down on the ground with a delicate sort of distaste. “None of us need use this… bedroll.” He says bedroll the same way he says food when it’s Flayn’s turn to cook.

19. A fic with a line or two you’ve memorised by heart

one sentiment enlightens to another - newamsterdam, Fire Emblem Three Houses, G rated, Hubert/Ferdinand, oneshot 6k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21074840

Ferdinand rolls his eyes. “Of course I do, Hubert. I remember very well. I just— well. Perhaps I’ve overestimated you.”

Hubert, who has spent the better part of the past few weeks believing he constantly underestimates Ferdinand, bristles.

Not the exact lines but I always keep this in mind when writing the ship. I think these hit on the fundamental misunderstanding between the two characters. Hubert is only human, not some all powerful hero/villain. And Ferdinand isn’t stupid just because he’s honest and emotional. I think the two of them have trouble getting their heads round these concepts!

20. A fic that gave you butterflies

Ataraxia - Windian, Tales of Graces, T rated, Cheria/Pascal, 13k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/7828981/chapters/17871247

"I want you," Cheria tells her, and the night catches like a rubber band. Her hands are in Pascal's hair, Pascal's arms around hers, her mouth on hers. Their kisses are sloppy and messy, noses knocking against one another, but it's everything and it's nothing at all like kissing Asbel.

When they break for air, Pascal tells her, "You don't know how long I've wanted to do this, Cheria."

Cheria asks, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I dunno Cheria, because you were gonna marry Asbel, maybe?"

It stops her in her tracks. Voice low, she asks, "What am I going to tell him?"

Pascal cups either side of her face. Kisses her, so hot and hard that Cheria's left seeing stars, clinging at the strings of Pascal's swimsuit like a shipwrecked sailor to a spar.

"Screw it. Think about it in the morning. For once in your life, do something you want."

21. A fic that embodies something you value in life

The Truth About Love - MistressAkira, Fire Emblem Fates, T rated, Niles/Subaki, 2k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12036081

This fic is experimental in style - the author descrbes it as a soliloquy. The sentiment I take from it is that love is compromising, inconvenient, illogical. Yet it’s still something beautiful and something worth fighting for.

22. A favourite AU

Mobius - SirTeateiMoonlight, Xenoblade Chronicles, T rated, multichap, 17k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845748/chapters/42111473

Melia finds a copy of Xenoblade, plays it and knows exactly what’s going on in the story. She uses this knowledge to her advantage. It’s a slippery slope. By the end of the story she’s mercilessly torturing Lorothia against her brother’s wishes. 

23. A fic you’ve stayed up late to finish reading

Dirty Sympathy - ideny, Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney, M rated, Klavier/Apollo, 130k on AO3 not sure on kink meme

https://bludhavens.livejournal.com/88397.html?thread=41790541#t41790541

https://archiveofourown.org/works/1075868/chapters/2160789

I stayed up reading this until 4am and for some reason (probably tiredness) confessed this to my not-yet-gf. She cites this as one of the moments she fell for me!

It’s a dark fic in which Klavier and Apollo are both in abusive relationships with villains. They concoct a plot to implicate the two of them in criminal activities to escape and fall for each other along the way. 

24. A fic that made you feel seen

i knew you were trouble - Magepaw, Fire Emblem Fates, M rated, Niles/Subaki, 8k

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19314568

First of all the title is one of my favourite songs. Second of all the dialogue is everything I want from the Niles/Subaki ship. Third Subaki’s pegasus makes her presence known. Fourth there is a gory battle scene and hurt/comfort gone wrong. And fifth, a happy ending. 

Niles had to turn away, hand pressed to his mouth, before his own blush betrayed him. This was too good to last. This had to be the most embarrassingly vulnerable moment of his entire life, and of course the entirety of the Nohrian and Hoshidan military combined had to be there to see Niles go soft. 

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 14: Cusco - In Which I Ride Through A Desert (National Park) On a Horse With No Name (It Was Called Treacle)

We were up earlyish again, today, for the second of our booked excursions in Cusco. This day, however, we had eschewed the ATVs  to instead ride around a lovely big national park on horseback, like the rough and ready cowboys that we (I) definitely are (am).

We hauled ourselves out of lovely warm bed and into horrible cold flat and, after a frankly joyless breakfast of children's cereal, which, by this point, I am utterly sick to my back teeth of, bade a temporary goodbye to our apartment and all its resident ants and headed to our horsey pickup point: San Blas temple.

After a few (twenty) minutes wait, our driver, Marciel appeared from nowhere, like a little Peruvian goblin and ushered us into his car. He spoke no English, though insisted on speaking to us at length, anyway, so lots of smiling, nodding and saying “si” and just hoping ensued.

Marciel drove us up through the outskirts of town and, annoyingly, alongside the Saqsaywaman ruins, where he stopped, insisted we get out and take pictures from an infuriatingly better angle than we had enjoyed a couple of days ago, thereby making the incredibly gruelling uphill walk now entirely pointless on every conceivable level. Don't tell Sam, though, even though she knows and was also there.

After around twenty five minutes total drive time, we pulled up alongside the actual, for real ranch, with horses and men in hats and everything, and were quickly greeted by our incredibly lovely guide, whose name, unforgivably, I have totally forgotten- I'll call him Ruben, because I think it was probably something like that – and Robert, another punter, also from Britain, whom you could tell just by looking at, was definitely in Peru to do Ayahuasca, but was fairly nice, regardless.

After a brief bit of small-talk, which I hated, we were assigned our horses. I had, from nearly the exact moment of booking this particular tour, some month and a half prior, been insisting that my horse would be called Treacle, because for some reason, it seemed to annoy Sam and I found that incredibly funny. In actuality, my horse's name was Caramel, which I'm sure you'll agree is startlingly close to my original guess and indeed definitely close enough for me to continue referring to it as Treacle, throughout this post, which I will.

After only a single incredibly ungainly failed attempt to get on top of Treacle, before finally cracking it (meaning I managed to get into the saddle- I didn't punch the horse) I was up and on horseback and officially a cowboy. Yee haw. Neat. Wowzer.

I had never ridden a horse before this point, never really having had the cause, interest or availability to, but despite feeling constantly for the first half hour or so like I was definitely going to slip off my saddle to the side and be trampled under Treacle's magnificent, pounding hooves, it wasn't all that bad, at all. It was a bit like driving a living car, I suppose - one which could arbitrarily decide to go mental and kill you at any point. I concede that does actually sound quite bad, now I read it back, but it really wasn't.

After a while, I found my bearings and settled into clopping around like I was in a very, very slow version of Red Dead Redemption. No sooner had I begun imagining myself as a cowboy, clad in a poncho, shooting all the natives to bits with a very big gun, however, than we stopped, demounted and went for a bit of a wander around the nearby Temple of The Moon.

Neat.

The temple, despite not getting to go inside it – site of delicate historical significance my arse – was incredibly neat. It was created by the Incas, as a sort of partner to the nearby Temple of the Sun, only this one was used to worship...yeah, the Moon. Exactly. You're really good at this. Apparently, though, due to the Spaniards being undeniable bastards and smashing up, murdering or building over everything Incan they could find, some savvy natives decided to cover the entire temple in soil to hide it. I have no idea how they might have accomplished this, or if indeed it is even true, but Not-Rubem says it was, and honestly? I trust him more than you. What this meant, however, was that for many years, up until even the last six or so, a lot of the temple had remained undiscovered by modern eyes and indeed, was still, in part, in the process of being excavated. It also had a hole in its ceiling, where the moonlight would shine through during clear nights, illuminating an alter, where they performed ritual sacrifices and if that ain't the most HP Lovecraft shit, I ever heard.

Our brief, though interesting interlude now completed, I hopped back onto Treacle (first try) and we continued our sojourn. Now quite enjoying myself, even when Treacle arbitrarily broke out into a gallop for a while, terrifying me ever so slightly, we climbed up through the valley along winding paths and eventually reached a genuinely very impressive viewpoint. I'd describe it as breathtaking, but at that altitude, everything is, so it would be pointless to do so.

Still pretty alright, though...

Afterwards, we sidled back down the path, Ruben talking about all the different wildlife we had seen (including apparently an Andean Condor, which I didn't realise at the time are actually quite a rare find, but also, still just birds so basically a bit shit) and plant life we were passing, making me feel every inch the outdoorsman, despite how much this sentence implies the opposite.

Despite a couple of interludes, wherein Treacle unexpectedly galloped, or launched himself over tiny puddles in the most overly dramatic way possible, crushing my hands and genitals against the saddle in the process, I was now decidedly enjoying my time on horseback and had begun to feel so comfortable that when Ruben suggested that we gallop back to the ranch on the final strait of road, I eagerly(ish) agreed. Sam's horse, however, whose name neither of us can remember, but whom she dubbed “Li'l Asshole” was not so gallop-inclined and so, once back at the ranch, we did have to wait for some time, while Sam and Li'l Asshole trotted along at entirely its own pace, which was close to that of molasses. I befriended that ranch's cat in the meantime, however, so didn't mind in the slightest. In fact, I only wish they could have taken longer.

We lunched at the ranch, “enjoying” a little packet of salted crackers, a melted chocolate cake bar and a bottle of water (and also, the ranch's cat, Arthur, now sitting on my knee, purring loudly like a big idiot) and the smalltalk began, once more.

Robert told us that his plans for the rest of his time in Peru were to attend a three week ayahuasca retreat (I fucking knew it). I mean, again, he was a nice guy, but for fucks sake, Robert. Grow up.

Conversation then turned to Machu Piccu. Robert asked us if we had been; we told him we had not. He asked when we planned to go and we told him that we had no plans to do so. We had been wavering on going, since initially booking the trip. Wonders of the world are neat and all, but when viewing them with with literally thousands of other people at the same time, for about an hour and at a cost of several hundreds of pounds, it just didn't seem that worth it and by the time we had reached the point of saying “fuck it, lets just spend the money and do it”, all of the limited entrance tickets had sold out.

Ruben, however, chipped in to tell us that the travel agency for which he and his ranch worked would have some available tickets and he may be able to hook us up for tomorrow, should we still want to go. We told him we were definitely interested and he made a quick phone-call to check availability and prices. Four hundred and fifty dollars. We weren't that interested, fuck. We sadly declined Ruben's proposal and vowed to come back at some point in the future instead, perhaps to walk the Inca trail for like eleven days to get there, which apparently, even that you have to pay for. Walking. You have to pay to walk there. Get your shit together, Peru. Absurd.

A little dejected to not be going Piccu-side, we said our goodbyes to Ruben, Treacle and Li'l Asshole and clambered back into the taxi to be briskly driven back to San Blas temple. Once there, we also said goodbye to Robert, who at the point of writing this, is probably off his little tits on drug-soup, and headed to a cafe we had had our eye on since arriving, for a bit of lunch.

Once inside, I opted for half a basil, mozzarella and tomato panini (which turned out to be absolutely gigantic; I could not even fathom eating a full one) and a frankly monstrous slab of tres leches cake. The food was incredible and honestly, definitely the best thing I had eaten on this trip. All other food I had eaten thus far (including the chicken roulade, from the previous night, which at the time, was lovely, though in comparison was like chewing through a bag of soot) can eff off into the bin, where it clearly belongs.

Now feeling a little sleepy - we had been up since like 6am, had a fairly physically demanding day and now, as I say, were full to the brim with bread and cheese – we decided to head back to the flat, despite it only being around 2pm, to nap and otherwise relax for the rest of the day and indeed, to figure out what to do with our last remaining day in Cusco, tomorrow. Tentatively, our plans were to go and see some of the other, less amazing ruins that the city and surrounding are had to offer. Did we actually do that? Who knows! You'll have to read the next entry to find out! (We didn't. We're lazy and have spent all our money.)

[secretshamewriting]

Taming the Dragon-Chapter 4 (Viserys x Reader fic)

Chapter 3

Original Link

Warnings: Drinking/Alcohol Use

Viserys POV

(Y/N) sprawled on the lavish floor pillows, and continued on as if he wasn’t even there. It was Illyrio who seemed intimidated by his presence, cowing and seeking his approval, wishing to include him. “That’s very interesting, is it not, Your Grace?”

Viserys glanced over to the fat man, waving his fingers to acknowledge in the same instant he turned back to watch (Y/N). She produced a hand drawn map of the Khal’s manse, she detailed the aspects of the party from what wine they chose to each guest. He and Magister Illyrio had been making arrangements of their own. There would be a fine Meerenese silk dress sewn for Daenerys and Illyrio had assured there would be gold and gems to match, everything they needed to show the Khal she was a Targaryen Princess.

He listened to every word, analyzed every inflection, watched every ounce of body language. His father had seen him trained with Varys, the Master of Secrets, when he was young.

The boy must know when they are lying to him. Once there was a time every soul in Westeros feared the Targaryen’s and now they think us fools! Everyone will try to deceive him, and if Rhaegar does betray me- Viserys will take the throne. He must be a strong king. We have to make them fear us again.

A conversation of years long past played in his mind, the raspy, trembling voice of his father ringing in his ears. That night he’d had that gleaming, rabid look in his eyes, the one that always made his mother send him off to study his letters.

They called him Aerys the Mad King. And though none dared say that name in the presence of the young Prince, he’d heard it often enough whispered in the halls. And while he may have been…irrational, the world had taught Viserys the truth of his father’s words. Hidden daggers told him not to trust anyone. The kind words, and eager help that had been offered by ‘friends’. Merchant Princes, Nobles from Braavos to Pentos, Magisters, all had started out open handed enough but that all changed. Their amorous stares, greed of befriending the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, soured to bitter glares as if he was a diseased pauper, a raving mad man. What they didn’t know was that he would reclaim his lands, his throne and then they would regret turning him away when he was in need. He reveled in the thought of the cheese-mongers turning up to him to ask for fairer trade, the spice merchants complaining of taxes, how he looked forward to those days.

Viserys was thankful for his lessons with the Spider. He had learned to catch insects in their own web of lies. The lessons had served him well in the years moving from city to city. How to see one’s nervous twitches when they lied, to perceive if it was an exaggerated truth or straight out fiction. The way someone held themselves and how it belied their emotions, their intentions.

But watching (Y/N) she was nothing but, at ease? Comfort laid in her every word, her honest tone bearing all the layers so there was nothing further to analyze. He still would not dare to speak of his plans with her, he would wait until she left and speak with Illyrio alone. Not that he trusted the Magister either, but he had shown himself to be truly hungry for Viserys’ friendship.

So she shared what she came to share, then politely excused herself. Viserys and Illyrio discussed everything that would happen in the coming month to prepare Dany for meeting the Khal, they talked of how they hoped the night to go, and of days in the future. Once he had heard everything the Magister had to say, he took his leave.

The first stop was to check on Dany in her room. Viserys was delighted to see her sitting there, reading books and for the old gray handmaid who was looming over her asking questions. He strode in confidently and went to read over her shoulder, scooping the hair that was falling into her face so it would tamely lay down her back. “Study hard, sweet sister. Knowledge is a woman’s weapon. Men will always be more powerful with a sword, but your mind should best any man’s.” He stood up straight, smiling at the memory of his mother sharing that little tidbit with him, hoping she would be proud how he was preparing Dany.

A humorous scoff broke the otherwise still of the room as his sister focused on reading, but she immediately broke her attention to look up at her brother, what he’d found funny. “Not that you shall need much wit to deal with the Horselords.” smirking deviously before shrugging and offering “But it’s for every other man you shall meet. I imagine your husband won’t want me around all the time, well enough. So I won’t be able to keep as close an eye on you.” he could see the fear in her eyes. And as much as she might also fear him, the respect and need for his care was greater. The little sister was lost without the older brother to lead the way.

But he knew she was terrified of everything happening with the Khal, she had hardly slept a wink since he’d told her the plan a week past. That reminded him, “And you must sleep tonight. Do you think the Khal wants a girl with bags under her eyes like an old worn-out woman? If you do not I am assured one of the healers can make a draught to put you to sleep, but it’s been known to give terrible nightmares” he leaned his face close to hers now, his voice strained as if he had been telling one of the ghost stories of the Others. Dany squeaked at that and covered her mouth with her hands. Viserys raised his eyebrows and gestured to the bed “Then you must sleep” standing now and walking to leave the room, pausing long enough to add “or don’t think I won’t use it.”

The echoing steps were the only thing to accompany him as he walked the manse. Viserys feebly searched for something to occupy him, when what he really set out for was a way to speed up time so he could see the pieces of his plan begin to fall into place. There was the Magister’s libraries, but he had read all the dry tomes worth reading ten times over by now. He craved a story of Aegon, or Nymeria, something to sate his lust for a concurring force arriving to sweep all under their rule. The Free Cities had their share of conquest and blood, Viserys only read them to gain the experiences of another culture but they weren’t his stories. Regardless of the fact that he’d spent more time away from Westeros than in it, everything across the narrow sea was foreign to him, and always would be.

Eventually his restless mind and wandering feet found themselves walking for the wall. Somehow staring at the sea with a plan in mind made his heart ache less for home, loosened the grip of responsibilities that hung around his neck like a hangman’s noose. Fleetly he climbed the stairs, only to be surprised by what he found at the apex. (Y/N) was sitting atop the railing, one leg dipped over the side and the other resting up on a table. A table that held a flagon and a cup identical to the one in her hand.

“What are you doing up here?” he questioned as he stepped up onto the platform.

Without even looking his way, eyes focused on the beach some yards below, the gentle sound of waves crashing on the sand the only background to her answer “Enjoying a beautiful summer evening.” But now she turned to face him, a smile lighting up her face as she held up her cup, saying with a laugh “and some wine. Care to join me?”

Viserys grasped the stem of the goblet, holding it out “Yes, I believe I shall.” But when he only got an amused look from (Y/N), and she made no move to fill his cup, did his swelled ego deflate. Internally grumbling how he was a King and should never have to pour for himself, having gotten quite used to the aspect of having servants around, he filled the glass anyway.

He threw one of his long legs over the wall to straddle it as well, looking straight across to (Y/N). She smiled again, raising her glass and tipping her head before taking a sip. Viserys joined her in the silent toast and only after she had taken a deep gulp did he try his own. A honey wine. He was pleasantly surprised, a welcome break from the usual stock of sour reds that filled the better part of Illyrio’s cellars.

They finished their first cups in silence aside from the lulling sound of the sea. This time (Y/N) leaned forward, grabbing the tankard and filling his before pouring for herself. The last few drops falling into her glass caused him to look listlessly around for some servant to fetch them more. That was when he heard the metallic tink of the glass being set on the stone “I didn’t think Illyrio would miss one cask”. She had set down her glass to reach for the cloth strewn across the table, flipping it up to reveal it was infact a barrel of wine. He eyed her with surprise, to which she giggled while stroking one hand across the top of the barrel and whined “Poor thing was forgotten, shoved all the way in the back.”

Viserys took a sip and mused “It must have been so lonely”.

“Oh, quite” she grunted as her dagger pried open the top of the barrel. She dipped it down into the barrel, the flagon greedily gulping up the cloying wine and dripping as she removed it. Golden dribbles tracing along the glass to be caught by her fingers. Viserys watched over the top of his cup as she drew them up the length, and sucked the liquid off. She glanced to him as she slurped her middle finger, their gazes met as her face turned bright red under his grin. But that didn’t last as she looked away mumbling “It’s a shame to waste good wine”.

Viserys chuckled at her shyness, only hours earlier she boldly undressed herself, knowing he was there, and now she blushes at his smirk. Hurriedly she used the pommel of her dagger to hammer the lid back into the barrel, reset the tablecloth and the flagon. By then she had regained herself, settling back in to stare across the water. “Tell me” she mumbled quietly, looking out of the corner of her eye to meet where he still watched her every move “of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Feeling as sweet as the wine he mused under his breath “My home.” He swirled his cup, staring into the golden liquid as if it held a story in it’s depths. In a way it did, the sticky sweet taste of honey on his tongue brought forth a memory. “When I was a boy, we travelled to some flower festival, a weak excuse for a tournament and for Mace Tyrell to host my family. There was red tulips as far as the eye could see.“

(Y/N)’s eyes widened in surprise but then softened to a sweet smile. She expected some story of Aegon, or a bitter telling of the Usurper’s rebellion. A story of strong knights and fair maidens..

"We had gardens in King’s Landing, but” he admitted humbly “Highgarden’s did put it to shame. Their’s stretched the entire inner yard, something always in bloom. They even boast massive glass gardens, growing roses even in the depths of winter.”

She was enraptured by the story, tucking her legs up and looking like a child at story time, her eager eyes glued to his face. “House Tyrell’s sigil is a rose. So they grow them in every color you can imagine. My mother and I walked the gardens, gathering one of each. We made a crown of roses and took turns wearing it.” He laughed deeply, a new part of the memory coming back to him “Even my father wore it, to a meeting with Mace Tyrell and everyone was too afraid to comment on it so he wore it around for an entire day.”

That beautiful ringing sound greeted his ears once more, her eyes crinkling as she laughed. “Who would dare question the King about what crown he chose to wear.”

Viserys tilted his head, lifting his mug to his lips to speak into it. “Especially my father” hummed in the glass as he took a sip. Watching her he could see the shining look of intrigue in her eyes, the way she was studying him as well, and took the wiser course of not bringing up any further questions on his father. Part of him wondered if she had heard stories of the Mad King, how much she truly knew about the Seven Kingdoms. Instead Viserys brought the cup down, his wrists resting across his legs as he inquired “Do you know how a tournament works in the Seven Kingdoms?”

Pleased with the new subject she shook her head, her intent stare begging him to continue. So Viserys leaned forward, explaining every intricacy from the reasons why a tourney was held to the customs. In vivid detail he recounted some of the most renowned fights that had gone into storybooks. By the time they were two more glasses in he found himself spending an unusual amount of time on the awards given out, knighthoods or announcing new squires, but most of all about the Queen of Love and Beauty.

It was the wine, it had to be he told himself. But her gentle smile, the way she hung on his every word and somehow still seemed so calm and collected, it was irresistible. Apparently the same as the wine as he finished the bottom dregs of another. He found that he could handle his fair share, especially since his stay with Illyrio where it seemed to flow anytime of the day.

And flow it did as (Y/N) reached for the flagon to fill his cup again, her hand coming to rest on the back of his as she poured. He had told himself to slow down but found they had gotten onto the topic of siblings, perhaps some tournament story of Rhaegar’s, and (Y/N) was describing the little brother she’d had ‘a lifetime ago’. To which he mentioned Daenerys. “I have taken care of her all her life. But she’s thirteen, a woman grown now-”

However he was cut off by with a snobbish laugh as (Y/N) shook her head dismissively. “She is not grown. I have ten years on her and I am still growing.” Viserys eyed her up and down suspiciously, impressed he had correctly gathered her age to be close to his own and then wondering how she had meant ‘growing’. Only the very back of his mind questioned why she had interrupted him, disagreeing with no qualms for his opinion. Noticing this she laughed, looking down at her body before playfully rolling her eyes “Growing, changing. Always learning something new.” He certainly hadn’t thought it was physically.

He shook away any misgivings, moving instead to the deeper thought that plagued him, that look in Dany’s eye earlier when she was studying in her room. “I have been with her nearly every day of her life…” the plans still churning in his stomach, even if he was set on getting back his kingdom there was a pang of guilt. “She won’t know what to do with herself. I suppose she will just listen to her husband not her brother. Still just being a child.” That’s what she was. Viserys had still only regarded her as such, but it was Illyrio who always insisted now that she’d had her blood she was fit to wed. Surely that was true, however he couldn’t help but think of the little who would sneak into his chambers in the middle of the night, spouting stories of nightmares and begging to crawl under the covers with him.

He also remembered of the timid fear that hid behind Dany’s porcelain mask, just earlier that day. She was terrified by the thought of the Khal, the thought that her big brother wouldn’t be around to guide her. She didn’t want this, Viserys still wasn’t entirely sure he did but how was she to understand what they were missing. Dany didn’t have the same drive he did to reclaim the Seven Kingdoms. She didn’t want to read books and study languages, she wanted to go play in the fountains with the other children. But they couldn’t do that. He was the last dragon and she the last Targaryen princess. Their line ended there.

Chapter 5

Index

[sanhatation]

ri’s thicc 2017 reflection post !

its still quite a few hours away from 2018 for me but i just wanted to take this time to reflect on my absolutely Lovely 2017!!! yay time 2 get sappy as i word vomit and overshare about my year on tumblr.com !!!!

thank you loads to all of my LOVELY followers !!!!!!!!! yall are the cutest, make my day on the daily ! i wish you the best 2018 that the world can offer !!! stay healthy, take time for yourself, love yourself, love others, and be kind! 💓💓

this Riley Rant here, is gonna be here for me than anything. like a Fat journal entry !! and i am an Oversharer so here she goes [jeopardy music]

to begin, i have met and befriended so many amazing people on here this year and WOW!!!!!! lovely and supportive and talented, beautiful aroha friends??? it doesnt get better than that!!!!! i would attempt to tag all of u but yall know who u are ;)) im endlessly grateful to those of you who have really made being on here worth it. heck ya sometimes im like “why do i even spend time on here” but then!!!! idk sunny comes swingin in with just a heart full of love or sara comes swingin in with her eggs or marian comes swingin in with her rare pairs or j comes swingin in with her baking posts and thats not even HALF of it !!!!! seriously.....love you guys tons.

to my friends who i have had the pleasure of remaining your friend this year and getting closer to u !! i love you. i really dont know how yall handle me especially 2015/2016 me?? a MESS! yall are the REALEST. again, yall know who u are ;)) i hope we can continue to talk and have fun in 2018, i wish yall the best. 

and lastly....heres a THICC shoutout to my six shining stars. 

as for me as an individual, 2017 was a freaking Whack year. it was incredible....dare i say, iconic. and now its time for.....RILEY’S 2017 HIGHLIGHTS !!!!!! (also includes: the sucky parts bc even those allowed me to grow !)

- man, did 2017 start out pretty rough when my country decided it was a good idea to elect a freakin cheeto for president. however! i had the lovely opportunity to attend the women’s march at my capital the day before inauguration !! and it was powerful!!!! truly an experience ill treasure forever!

- binch....thank u Winter Dream for my whole life. tbh i wont forget sobbing at my best friend’s house when it dropped. thank u Miss Again Dance Practice. thank u Miss You & Me MV. thank u Miss Cotton Candy Choreography. thank u. 

- ah.....when some pinhead started that tr*mp chanting at a basketball game lol! so iconic that we made the new york times! gotta love that....

- OMG !!! HOW TO SUCCEED !!!! an absolutely amazing experience. granted, the male lead was a Snake, but i had a blast. Rosemary will forever be close to my heart and ill always cry a little when i hear Brotherhood of Man or Paris Original !! such an awesome opportunity. i learned a frick ton about myself as a performer. i improved a ton in acting and dancing, and also came to learn that i am very good at receiving instructions and memorizing lines quickly. i learned that i need to work on some of my facial expressions and i also learned some of my habits ! i miss u Queenie H2$ :’’)

- had my first tap dance performance ever??? i really enjoyed learning tap, and i hope to pick it back up in the future !!!!

- BIIIIIINCCH i had the opportunity to visit my sister in korea!!!!!!! wow.....truly the BEST week of my entire year, maybe even LIFE! i went to the dog cafe, the sheep cafe, mcountdown, the lunar festival kick off, gwanghwamun palace, dongdaemun, shopped a ton around hongdae, ate food by the han river, visited namsan tower (but not without getting lost), hit the noraebang TWICE, walked into a private Fantagio board meeting, ate delicious chicken on a STIIICK, ran in the rain, ordered delivery mcdonalds, had the BEST fried chicken, met a bunch of monks, was led around dongdaemun by a very old korean man, SAW EUNWOO AND DOYEON AND RECEIVED MUCH LOVE AND NEARLY DIED, hit the convenience store literally every day, snuck out, GOT A WAVE FROM KEY :((( , bought Winter Dream and lots of skin care products and lots of cute clothes, had the clearest skin ive ever had in my life, went to a buddhist temple, witnessed a drunk man fall into the splits inbetween the ground and the subway, ran up and down 1000 subway stairs, fell in love with a man named Peanut, drank too much banana and strawberry milk, sobbed my face off at the festival as korean grandmas bowed to me, tried tons of new foods (including the nastiest bowl of cheese ramyun ive ever had in my life), bought lots of socks, rode an airplane for......like 40 hours in total? literally the best week of my Life

- had my junior vocal recital ! it was a cute girl. i felt my acting had really improved since sophomore voice recital !! 

- had prom on my 17th birthday and had a jolly good time !!! my mom made my dress and i felt like a Stunner

- dream pt. 01...she rly is that Bad Bih. best era. miss her loads. none of us ever deserved her. 

- les mis !!!!!! two whole weeks.....another Best Time. i learned so much, made so many lifetime friends, had a blast, sang my heart out.....such a freaking good time. i miss her

- got to spend the ENTIRE summer with momo!!!!!!!!!!! literally the ENTIRE!!!!! and what did we do? hit the park, watched lemonade mouth and fantastic beasts and starstruck and that random unicorn movie, made the Best slime, made that ICONIC weki meki video, laughed a ton, cried a ton, stayed up all night for the sunrise, stayed later for the sunset & thunderstorm, walked home in the pouring rain & lightning (IT IS VERY WET), went to the beach, met many dogs, got me hairs cut, befriended that Cat, and went to a painting class

- cabin week !!!!!!!!!!! whatta lovely time

- my brother’s wedding !!!! honestly? my best outfit of the year... had a bangin time. his wife is truly a cutie and i love her tons!

- there was that Mess in august and i still feel sorry to those who felt hurt because of it. i learned a lot about how things especially on the internet can be easily misunderstood and misinterpreted, so u gotta be EXTRA careful with your words ! 

- through that i also came to accept that u cant get everyone to understand or like u, and tbh that is okay for now. all we can do when we make mistakes is try to understand & learn, apologize, and try to better ourselves. and sometimes even when u do that, u still may not be liked. and thats okay. as long as you are trying your best and recognize mistakes, its all good. 

-skinny dipped at girls time wow what a freaking TIME

- woah dude i dropped out of my arts school lmao!!! the BIGGEST change in my life since 2014.;..wow! i dont even have the words to say how much stress was lifted off of me and i love senior yr !!!!

- momo came to CT!!!!!! 

- seeing svt live !!!!! but tbh the best part was seeing momo, “I LOVE A MAN WHO CAN SEW”, “I!!!!!!!!!! LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JIHOON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”, “IM UNDERAGE”, and when Mo BLASTED to that other line

- LAKE COMPOUNCE LMAOOOOO I LOVE JIHOON PT2!!!!

- my mom, sister, and i took an eight week painting class! i finished two paintings and learned a ton!! honestly a good time

- dream pt. 02.....shes that other Bad Bih....absolutely adore her

- i also learned that its okay to cut people off who are toxic. especially if you have already informed them that they make u feel bad, they are not worth trying to please or keep around. take care of yourself. similarly, its okay to block people, and you dont owe them an explanation

- MADI CAME HOME !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my other half...missed her so much :(((

- riley’s calligraphy christmas !!!!! was so much fun and i loved people’s reactions and i loved learning arohas favorite astro lyrics !!!

- ah...............one of the hardest weeks of my whole life. the pain still lingers, and i know itll hit me again like a boulder the next time we see only four of my angels standing on stage. for four months, i was worried sick about another member, and i even knew he was hurting, that his mental illness was real. my heart aches and there is a piece of it missing, but it will never be replaced. i know you are much happier now, jjong. i love you. 

- and also because of that, i have been able to think a lot about how i live my life. thoughts like ‘am i watching out for my family and friends enough?’ ‘am i listening enough?’ ‘is this funny comment worth it?’ ‘am i happy?’ im trying to be better. to not take things for granted, to only be kind, to always be there for those i love, for those who love me. and i will try my hardest to not complain about small or petty inconveniences. to try harder to be optimistic. 

- christmas was with my whole family for the first time in five years ;;; she was such a cute girl!

and now on to the next act !!!! its called RILEY’S NEW YEARS RESOLUTIONS !!!!!!!!!! 

1. lets start with the basic stuff that im 99% not gonna pull through on: keep ur room clean. keep everywhere u go clean, it makes mom upset. eat better, u know there is other foods in this house besides peanut butter and pepperoni and popcorn. 

2. send out at least one Lovely Ask per day. i made this goal sometime over the summer, and i did it for a few months until i started to forget ;; its not that hard, u just gotta remember to do it !! 

3. sis.....quit Procrastinating.......GET ur FREAKING application done...do ur homework the night before lmao! call who u need to !!! write those thank u cards!!!! go get them scholarships!!!! enter that graphic design contest lmao!!! just DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!! time is wasting

4. just be happy 

[arazialotis]

Pinch Of Nutmeg - Part 3

Pairing: Jensen × Reader

Word Count: 2300

Summary: The reader is a young and upcoming chef who takes up an opportunity in Vancouver where she by chance befriends Jensen.  After several years apart and seeing each other at a convention, (Part One WC:6500) the reader and Jensen try and decide how they should move forward but each go their separate ways. (Part Two) Now, six months after Chicago, Jensen seeks out the reader to see if any feelings remain.

Obviously I intend no hate or ill wishes to him or his family. This is purely just for writing and wasting my time.

Again, this is purely for a hobby and my enjoyment. Maybe some of you will enjoy it too. I am by no means a writer so I apologize in advance for any mistakes or grammatical/spelling errors.

---

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye for you. You thought about Jensen often, but avoiding the celebrity gossip sites and twitter helped. You searched through new job opportunities and regardless of Scott's continuous offers, something kept you in your hodunk town. Technically, it wasn't as small as Scott made it out to be. Some parts felt big city but you easily could drive to country living. It was small enough to know every corner but big enough to get lost in a sea of faces.

Whether out of spite or playful fun, you decided on adding a cheese fondue appetizer to the winter’s seasonal menu. One that if you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine being in the Swiss Alps.

At home on late nights, you would look up far off destinations. You’d narrowed it down to Iceland or Peru. Both vastly different from each other but both far enough away from here. You had plans lined up for either one. Probably at least a three month stay. Your passport was still active from when you lived in Vancouver. God, you missed that place. That little one bedroom apartment that costed twice if not triple as much as your two bedroom did now. And the meals you would make with such little counter space and crappy appliances. There were also the nights when you and Jay would just order a pizza. You’d set a sheet down in the middle of the living room floor making almost an indoor picnic and talk with him into the late hours of the night.

You slammed your laptop shut, trying to jerk yourself from the memory. You looked at your clock and figured you might as well go to bed. Your cat followed you and once you were settled, he nested down by your legs. What you saw as affection others may think of it as a commensalism relationship. But he meant the world to you. You petted his head gently before you drifted off.

---

Things seemed pretty slow in the kitchen today. You used the extra time to balance spreadsheets and planned an ingredient list for items you would need next week. You popped your head out occasionally to check on staff and help on orders. You had returned all of Scott’s items to him, aside from the cubs cap. You used it as your chef hat instead of the traditional ‘toque blanche’. You still kept one around though incase any high rollers rolled into town.

You were cleaning up a plate’s presentation when a server barged into the kitchen clearly upset with a fondue order in his hand.

“Cody, what’s wrong?” You asked puzzled.

“Some jackass is getting all upset about his order.” He fumed. “He said he needed to send this back and talk to the chef immediately.”

“Did he tell you the issue?” You asked calmly.

“He said he requested freshly grated nutmeg on top of the fondue,” Cody rolled his eyes.

Your heart stopped and you couldn’t breath. It couldn’t be him. There was no way. You knew he could have grabbed your information from the night you left your belongings in his room but you thought he would have contacted you sooner. No it couldn’t be him, you convinced yourself.

“Which he didn’t,” Cody continued. “Because I took the order. I explained to him nutmeg was already in the fondue but if he would prefer more I would be happy to assist…” “You don’t need to defend yourself.” You cut him off grabbing your toque. You threw it at your sous chef. “Please apologize on my behalf and offer to comp his meal and drinks. If there are anymore problems, I will be in my office catching up on paperwork.”

You slammed your door shut leaving your staff to manage themselves. You looked through the paperwork cross cutting last year's trends to the most recent weeks. Even though your eyes focused on the papers you couldn’t help to relive when you first met him. The thought still gave you butterflies and your cheeks turned red. God, what you wouldn’t give to go back to that moment.

“Y/N… Y/N” Your sous chef called out startling you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes of course.” You stated tapping the papers on the desk to organize them together. “What’s going on?”

“I think you should go talk to him..” she suggested. She took your silence as a key to continue. “He said he was offended that the real chef couldn’t come out to apologize herself but that he would still pay for his dinner.”

“Sounds like he is a piece of work.” You softly scoffed.

“Y/N, I think you really need to talk to him…” she almost pleaded. “I don’t know if you are familiar with the show Supernatural…” you tried to look anywhere but at her to hide your panic. “It’s one of the actors, he could give us a lot of bad press if we don’t fix this.”

You settled for a pencil and pretended to take down notes. “I am not going to give him any special treatment just because he has more than 20 followers on twitter.” You mumbled.

“That's the thing, if it was anyone else, you would be out there schmoozing it up.” She argued.

You laughed as you were the farthest thing for a schmooze. “We’re done discussing this. Please get back on the line.” You politely ordered.

She rolled her eyes on the way out and tossed your toque on the floor. Your thoughts were racing to much to care about her attitude. You kept writing down notes but you couldn’t decide what to do. You snatched your keys from your desk and left your chefs jacket in the chair. You briefly yelled you were out of the rest of the night and your sous chef was in charge. You noticed a couple of judgemental gazes but your staff was more concerned as your behavior was off key.

The cold air hit your face in causing you to inhale sharply and tears to form at your eyes. You made your way through the alley and past the dumpsters to the parking lot. Your hands were shaking as you pulled out the keys to unlock your car.

“Y/N!” A voice called loudly confirming your prediction of who it was. “Y/N” This time his voice was closer and a bit out of breath.

You finally forced yourself to look at him. His cheeks were rosy from the cold air and you could see his breath as snowflakes started to fall. You looked back down at your hands and fiddled with your keys.

“How’d you know I’d be out here?” you questioned not knowing what else to say.

He laughed. “You’re a runner.”

You smiled and looked back at him. “I guess I am becoming too predictable.”

He shook his head in agreement. “Yeah.”

“I’ve missed you.” You softly admitted.

“And I you.” He smiled and lessened the gap between you. When you remained silent and he noticed you were shivering he offered a proposition. “How about we catch up over a cup of coffee?”

“Yeah, I know a quiet place up the street.” You pointed.

The both of you walked together in silence. A few minutes into the walk Jay wrapped his jacket around you. You smiled bashfully. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to keep them warm.

“Do you remember in Vancouver, it was a night like this I think…. We were bouncing around the street to keep warm and you started blaring  out…. Ahh shit, what is that U2 song called again?” He questioned.

You knew exactly what he was talking about, the memory came back to you instantly. You never sang in front in of anyone, but when you were with him, you didn’t care about what he thought, you felt free. “City of Blinding Lights,” You smiled fondly.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He remembered. “That’s when I knew.” He confessed seriously.

“Knew that I should have gone into the music industry instead of cooking?” You teased.

He laughed and teased you back. “Yeah, no one has ever matched your varying pitches.” You stopped outside the cafe. “But seriously, that’s when I knew I wanted to be more than friends.” You sighed and felt that same pinch of guilt you felt the night you kissed him. You ignored him and opened the door walking into the cafe.  Once you both had your drinks and found a nook to sit in you started to open up.

“Jensen, I can’t go through this again, I am not willing to have an af..” You started.

“Lana and I are divorced.” He solemnly admitted.

“What?” You were completely shocked. “When?”

“Two months after Chicago.” He disclosed.

“Was it because of..”

“No,” he cut you off. “We were having problems for a while, but you made it easier for me.”

You still couldn’t wave away your feeling of guilt and Jensen could sense it.

He reached over and grabbed your hands from the mug. “This had nothing to do with you, that was between me and her. Okay?”

You briefly rubbed your thumb over his knuckles. “Then why are you here Jay?” “Because I wanted to reconnect with you, I wanted to apologize for not being honest with you before and to apologize for the way things ended in Vancouver.” He explained.

You pulled your hands back away and wrapped them back around your mug. “I don’t know if I can go back to the way things used to be.” You confessed.

“I don’t want things the way the were. I want more.”

You scoffed as you looked into his earnestly green eyes. “You just got out of a relationship, a serious one.”

“Listen, I don’t want to waste anymore time.” He pushed.

“I just don’t think we should rush anything right now.” You explained.

“Why are you so against this?” He realized your cap as was the same when he saw you in Chicago and clenched his jaw. “Is it Scott?” He fumed with jealousy.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter. “Are you kidding me?” You continued laughing but you could tell he wanted an answer. “I have never thought of Scott as anything more than a friend and a mentor. The thought is just absurd.” Jensen still seemed upset. “Is this what it has always been about?” The realization hit you. “You’ve always been jealous of him?” You asked confused looking at him for an answer. His face gave it away. “God, if we had just been honest with each other, huh?” You took a break from your rant and sipped your coffee.

“Well then be honest with me now. Y/N, what do you want?” He demanded.

“I…,” You pondered your thoughts.

“If you’re not interested, please just tell me and I will leave you alone, but I just need to know.” Jensen pleaded.

“I’m scared. I am not good enough for you, I don’t want to make you look bad, what if we lose everything we had?” you confided.

“You could never make me look bad. When I first saw you, you took my breath away. You are more than I deserve. And as for losing what we had, why not chance to make it… to make it better?” He argued.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Do you got a place to stay?”

“We are in the middle of a conversation.” Jensen stated.

“Well, I am not ready to give you an answer tonight. So, either you can stay in my spare bedroom that’s never been used or I can give you a hotel recommendation.” You offered.

Jensen leaned back in his chair and sighed not knowing what to choose.

“Come on,” You stood up. “Let’s put on a movie, and you can decide after.”

The ride back was fairly silent. Jensen was shocked to enter your apartment complex, knowing that you probably could afford more. As you entered you threw your keys on the counter the squeaked for your cat. Jensen continued to analyze, he closed his eyes thinking you didn’t think you deserved better but the truth was you deserved so much more.

You picked up your cat who perched on your shoulders. Usually he would nuzzle your hair but his full attention was fixed on Jensen. He jumped down and went to sniff his legs. To your surprise he nuzzled against his leg and then came back to greet you a second time.

You smiled, “He doesn’t often take to kindly to strangers. Why don’t you pick out a movie, I am going to clean up a sec from work.” Jensen browsed your selves laughing when he saw the collection of old westerns you had. In the past, he would usually suggest them but within 30 minutes you were always out like a light. He picked out ‘Unforgiven’, although he completely acknowledged you would have preferred Casablanca or some other chick flick. He thought it just didn’t seem appropriate given the conversation tonight. He fiddled with the remotes and got it up and running. You came back out, hair down, face washed, and in a hoodie and yoga pants.

“Guess I am not the only predictable one.” You teased.

“Hey, Clint Eastwood is a genius.” Jensen defended as he sat on the couch.

You tossed him a blanket and grabbed your own sitting down on the floor leaning against the couch. But eventually you ended up on the couch, cuddled against Jensen’s chest, his arms wrapped around you as you became more and more tired with your eyes fluttering shut.

“Hey Jensen.” You mumbled.

“Mmmm” It was clear he was drifting off too.

“I’ve always loved you… let’s see if it works” You alluded to his question earlier tonight.

He stroked your hair as the both of you drifted to sleep, perfectly content, more than he had been in a long time.

Part 4

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