#[ ALright ILL PUT MY BEADS AWAY AND GO BACK TO THE COMPUTER ]

[escapewithbts]

When They Think You Like A Different Member

Whoa this ended up being way longer than I anticipated. Sorry!! I’ve written this for 3 other members too so far so go check those out! :)

——————————

Hoseok: “Hey (y/n)!” Namjoon called your name from across the room, “Do you mind helping me pick a pair of glasses to wear for the performance?”

You smiled widely.

“Be right there, Joonie!”

Hoseok watched as you said your goodbyes to him and Jungkook and got up from the couch the three of you had been squished together and chatting on.

Well thanks to Namjoon-ah I guess his time with you was over. He slumped further down in his spot and pulled out his phone.

“Hobi!”

However, hearing you call his name made him glance over at the two of you, “which pair do you think looks best on Joon?”

Namjoon nodded.

“Ah yeah Hoba, you’re the best dresser in Bangtan, what do you think?”

Hoseok watched as his leader switched from glasses to glasses. Then he cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Hm they all look good, Namjoon-ah,” he responded, realizing he wasn’t really in the mood to give much input.

Namjoon shrugged.

“Okay, I’ll just stick with (y/n)’s opinion, she always knows what makes me look most handsome.”

Namjoon turned back to you and said something that made you giggle. Hoseok just sighed and went back to his phone.

“She doesn’t like RM-hyung, you know.” Jungkook suddenly stated from next to him.

Hoseok couldn’t help but scoff.

“Yeah, right. They’re always together, he always wants her opinions… she’s always reminding him how handsome he is.”

Jungkook shook his head, his black bangs falling over his eyes.

“That’s cause she knows how insecure hyung can get. Really, they’re just friends, Hobi-hyung. He’s like a brother to her.”

J-hope stuffed his phone back in his pocket and rose from his spot on the couch.

“Ah whatever, it’s no problem, Jungkookie, I don’t care,” he straightened out his shiny blazer and flashed him a smile that was no where near authentic, “I’m going to finish getting ready for the performance.”

-

Many hours later you were getting ready to leave the HYBE building with the remaining members who were there for the evening, Jimin and Jungkook. You stopped in your tracks when you suddenly realized you were missing your keys.

“Crap, I think I left my keys in the practice room while you guys were getting ready for the performance. I have to go get them. I’ll meet you down in the parking garage, okay?”

Jimin cocked his head.

“You sure you don’t want us to come with you, noona? The building is a little creepy with no one else here.” he shuddered to emphasize his point.

You smiled at his sweet offer but shook your head.

“It’s okay. Ill be alright. Just give me a couple minutes and I’ll be right there.”

They nodded in understanding as you turned back in the direction you had come from.

Jimin was right, the building was creepy when no one else was around. Usually there were hundreds of staff members running around, taking on different tasks for the growing company. But it was eerie and quiet this time of night. Too quiet.

However, as soon as you exited the elevator on the floor with the room you left your keys in, you heard the sound of hip-hop music blaring down the hallway. Creepy. Really creepy. You thought no one else was here?

As you slowly moved closer and closer to the door, the music got much louder and clearer. With hesitation, you turned the knob and opened the door.

Upon entering you saw none other than Jung Hoseok, freestyle dancing to the song that was blasting through the large speakers. His small but muscular frame was covered in an oversized tan shirt and olive covered pants, a news boy cap covering his bleach blonde hair. He hadn’t noticed you come in, so you stood there for a moment watching his graceful yet rhythmic dance moves in the mirrors, appreciating the way his limbs and torso could move in ways you couldn’t even imagine. He was so talented and beautiful while in his element, this being the reason you fell for him the first time you ever saw him dancing. Butterflies formed in your stomach.

“Oh SHIT!” Hoseok’s sudden exclamation broke you out of your trance, the man clutching his hand to his sweat-covered chest.

He then jogged over to the computer and paused the music, looking towards you.

“Aisshh, (y/n), you scared the shit out of me.”

You scratched the back of your head and blushed.

“Sorry… I-I didn’t know anyone was in here. I thought you went back to the dorm earlier with the other guys.”

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, the sweat causing his bangs to stick up straight. His chest was rising and falling rapidly from his strenuous dancing.

“No, I’m still here. What are you doing here?”

You peered around the room, recalling suddenly why you were here in the first place.

“I accidentally left my - ah, there they are - keys up here earlier.”

You walked over to the table where the computer sat to retrieve what you had been searching for and held them up to show Hoseok.

“Ahh okay okay.”

There was a pause as you both just stared at the wooden floor. It wasn’t often the two of you were completely alone so you instantly felt shy and flustered. Then you looked up into his bare face and dark brown eyes.

He was so handsome.

“You, um, look great… uh, dancing! You’re dancing is so good, you… look good.”

Real smooth. You internally rolled your eyes at yourself.

“Ah well… thank you.” He chuckled awkwardly. He always had been bad at taking compliments.

“I wish I could dance like that,” you admitted to him.

He perked his eyes up in surprise, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You can! It just takes practice. Here,” he wrapped his long arm around the back of your shoulders. You blushed at the feeling of his warm side pressed against yours.

He gently scooted you to the middle of the dance floor and let go of you. Immediately you missed his radiating warmth against you. He took a spot next to you and shook out his arms and stretched his neck. Then he grinned widely at you.

“Want to learn a short routine?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly.

How could you say no when one of the best dancers on the charts right now was willing to teach you??

“Okay, start like this-five, six, seven, eight.“

He showed you various moves, having you copy everything he was doing. Occasionally you would mess up and feel embarrassed, but he was quick to tell you how great you were doing. The two of you laughed endlessly; it was easy to be silly and happy around him, your adoration for him only getting stronger.

After about ten minutes of repeatedly going over it he said,

“Alright, (y/n)-ah, you ready for the final run-through before we try it with music?”

You took a deep breath and nodded.

“I think so.”

“You got this! Fighting!” He gave you a thumbs up, “Okaaaay ready, five, six, seven, eight!”

You watched the two of you in the mirror, nailing every step in synchronization, a big grin on both your faces.

But all of a sudden you forgot the correct move and you turned and stepped to the right, while Hoseok turned and stepped to the left. Your legs twisted and your bodies crashed into each other with such force you thought you might trip and fall. You let out a small yelp but then felt hands grab your waist and keep you upright.

“Shit, shit, are you okay, (y/n)?” Hoseok’s worried voice questioned.

You were fine, just mortified from messing up and running into him.

“Yes, I’m sorry, I’m fine, sorry for going the wrong way I-“

But you stopped mid-sentence when you looked up and realized how close his face was to yours. You could feel his heavy breathing on your cheek, see the beads of sweat at his hairline.

He smiled at you sweetly, dimples forming at the sides of his mouth.

“It’s okay, you did great. I think you’re a better dancer than me now.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes, unmoving from where he had you held.

“Oh please.”

You both chuckled lightly and then just stood there staring at each other.

Your heart was pounding against your chest from the closeness and the dancing, the feeling of his strong hands still holding your waist making your skin hot. You swear you see him glance down at your lips briefly which encouraged you to move your face closer to his, but then he dropped his hands abruptly and backed away from you. He put his face in his hands.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, disappointment washing over you.

“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You questioned.

Hoseok shook his head.

“Ahh shit I can’t do that to you and Namjoon-ah.”

Okay now you were really confused.

“What-what about me and Namjoon?”

He looks back at you and cocks his head, a frown evident on his face.

“You two… like each other, no?”

At this you cannot help but laugh, throwing your head back.

“Like each other? Gross, Joon is like a brother to me!”

A grin formed on Hoseok’s face at your response. He really had to start listening to his maknae more.

He looked awkwardly at the floor and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah I really thought you two had a thing…”

You shook your head gently, swallowing hard at what you were about to say next.

“Hmmm no, no I actually… have a thing for a different Bangtan member…” his head perked up at that, “and I hope he maybe feels the same way?”

Hoseok caught on instantly, the largest heart-shaped smile you’ve ever seen appear on his face. He bound swiftly towards you and wrapped his hand around the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. You sighed into the kiss and wrapped your arms around his thin waist, pushing your bodies fully against each other.

“YAH what the HELL?!”

You broke apart when you were interrupted by someone who had entered the room.

A shocked looking Jimin and Jungkook stood in the doorway. Jimin threw his hands up in the air dramatically.

“We were so WORRIED about you, (y/n)-ah, thought you had been kidnapped or something, but you’re just up here making out with Hobi-hyung?! Aiishhh!”

You laughed bashfully and muttered a quiet apology.

He turned Jungkook back towards the door and shook his head.

“Let’s go Jungkook-ah, leave these lovebirds alone.”

You and J-hope exchanged coy glances.

The other two boys left but before they got too far you heard Jimin yell,

“Be sure to use protection!”

*

[got7thotsss]

More Than That- Jackson

Warnings: Swearing probably, slightly angsty Summary: Y/n gets sick and roommate!Jackson takes care of her. Pairing: Jackson x Reader Word Count: 1.8k A/n: This was just a lil idea I had on the way to college one morning lmao. Enjoy xoxo

You glared over the top of your computer at your co-worker blowing his nose obnoxiously loudly. Your boss calls over, telling your co-worker to show you something. So, he gets up, walks around to your computer and starts tapping away at your keyboard with his gross germ covered hands. He’s leaning over your shoulder, chatting away about the numbers on the screen. After five minutes of you attempting to lean away from the germ pool that is your co-worker, he coughs on you and that’s when you snap.

“Are you kidding me? If you’re sick, at least wash your hands after blowing your nose. And here’s a thought, maybe don’t cough on people. You’re actually disgusting Sungmin!” You exclaim, abruptly shooting up out of your seat.

“Y/n, what’s all this commotion about? You guys are supposed to be trying to work together.” Your boss states anger evident in her tone.

“I’m sorry, but he needs to think about personal hygiene man.” You respond, holding your hands up in defence.

Your boss lets you both get back to work, but makes sure to keep an eye on you, just in case anymore yelling occurs. You manage to keep your distance from Sungmin for the rest of the day, sending him glares every time he looks your way.

The minute you walk into your apartment, Jackson is there, taking your coat off, asking you about your day. The usual. No wonder you fell for him, after all these years of you guys living together. Every time you arrive home this happens. Every. Single. Time.

Jackson has been your roommate since your first years at university. You’ve had a thing for him since halfway through that year. Jackson has had feelings for you since he first laid eyes on you. It’s been a wild ride for the both of you. All of your friends are aware of the mutual feelings between you both, but so far, they have failed in trying to get either of you to believe them.

“It’s strange to think that we’ve been out of Uni for over a year now.” Jackson says out of nowhere. You’d both sat down to eat some soup and dumplings, before you relax for the rest of the evening.

“Oh yeah, we’ve been living here for like over five years now. God, we’ve both aged.” You respond, making Jackson laugh and splutter his soup all over the counter you were both sat at.

“What makes you think we’ve aged?” He questions, as he wipes the soup/saliva mixture off the counter.

“Erm, maybe the fact that it’s only six thirty and I’m absolutely exhausted.” You respond, taking a sip of water.

“Not the fact that neither of us have drank since the birthday we were dragged to four months ago, and even then we only had one each, then snuck back here to finish binging that series?” He questions, making you inhale to laugh mid-sip. Your water then goes all over the counter, as you choke on the liquid.

“That could be a telling sign too.” You answer, as you start to clean your own mess off the counter.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

It’s not even been a week since Sungmin coughed all over you and yet you have already caught his cold full swing. You’ve just finished having a coughing fit into the crease of your elbow, when your boss approaches you, a serious look across her face.

“Y/n, I’m afraid I’m going to have to send you home. Your coughing and sniffling is distracting everyone else from their work. I can get Sungmin to look after your accounts until you get back. Which will be when you’re 100% better, I don’t want you getting anyone else sick.” She states, you look at her in shock.

“So, you didn’t think to send Sungmin home when he was sick? Typical. I’ll be back next week.” You say, leaning down to grab your bag, then picking your phone up of the desk, “Thanks for letting me have this time off.” You then make your way home and full on crash.

Jackson was expecting an empty house as always when he got home. Unfortunately, when he enters the house, he notices your heels haphazardly scattered in the entryway. He follows the trail of your various items abandoned in your apartment and finds you snuggled into the living room carpet. You’re wearing a small pair of shorts, some fluffy socks and one of Jackson’s oversized hoodies. He takes a moment to admire you, despite the snot that has dripped from your nose down your cheek, or the small puddle of drool you’re leaking onto the floor.

He then turns and leaves the apartment, returning fifteen minutes later with near enough an entire pharmacy. I’m talking every flavour of Lemsip he can find, every different kind of Soother, Paracetamol, Ibuprofen, VapoRub. The works. He wanted to do everything in his power to make you feel as comfortable as possible during your sickness. He piles it all onto the kitchen side and starts making his special stew that you’ve both been eating whenever any of you are sick ever since the both of you moved in together.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

One week into your cold and you’re just getting into the thick of it. You have never been more fed up with an illness in your life. Until now, your breathing had been alright, but you have to start using the VapoRub to help get you through the night.

You hear Jackson turn the shower off in the bathroom and all but run over to the door, in order to bombard him when he’s not busy. He walks out, body glistening with the beads of water, fluffy orange towel wrapped around his waist. His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he spies you waiting for him, but realisation washes over him as he notices the tub in your hand.

You lost your voice a few days back, so you had to deal with gesturing till it decides to reappear. You point to your back, before quickly tying your hair up in a bun to get it out of the way. He nods, whilst taking the tub out of your hand, enabling you to sort your hair out. Once you turn around, letting him know you’re ready, he starts rubbing the menthol onto your back. He takes his time, trying to get every inch at least twice.

You notice him starting to walk away after he finishes, but grab his arm to stop him, “I’m just going to wash my hands.” He states, chuckling slightly.

You shake your head at him, then gesture to your chest. His eyes widen as he realises what you want, but he nods and starts to rub the ointment onto your chest. You don’t miss the red tinge on his cheeks as he rubs lower, the strappy top you decided to wear revealing a lot compared to the more conservative t-shirts you usually wear around the apartment.

As he starts massaging it in further up, he catches your eyes with his own. This leads to a staring contest as Jackson sensually rubs his hand across your chest. He breaks the eye contact by looking down to your lips, then swiftly back to your eyes. You shake your head as he leans in. You see the hurt flash across his face, he pulls away and turns his back to you.

“I’m sorry, I thought that was a thing we both wanted.” He says, before walking into the bathroom. You silently groan, of course the one time one of you made a move would be when you’re sick and refuse to do something about it. You try to speak up to explain that it isn’t like that. You just don’t want to get him sick, because that would make you feel super shitty.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

After an extremely awkward week, you’re finally well enough to go back to work. Despite thinking that you don’t reciprocate his feelings, Jackson still puts the VapoRub on you every night. None of you talk, you because you can’t, Jackson because he just feels too awkward. He feels stupid for finally believing your shared friends and doing something about his feelings for you. You feel absolutely terrible for letting him believe that you don’t want to be with him.

After a long day of work, you get back to an empty apartment. You make your way to the kitchen to start up dinner and notice a note stuck to the fridge stating that Jackson took on an extra lesson at the fencing club and won’t be back till 7:30. You decide to make him his favourite meal as an apology. You’re going to wait until he gets back and explain everything to him.

Jackson walks through the door at 8:47pm. An hour and seventeen minutes later than he originally stated. To say you’re angry is an understatement. You are absolutely livid. You think about all of the things you can say to him, but ultimately the anger dissipates as soon as you see him. He’s wearing sweatpants and a muscle tee, dripping in sweat. He must’ve gone to the gym after his lesson in a bid to avoid you some more. He looks at you, evidently shocked that you’re sat at the counter with a meal set out.

“What’s all of this about?” He asks, annoyance still evident in his tone.

You don’t respond. You just get out of your seat and walk over, until you’re face to face with him. He opens his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off by placing your lips on his. He immediately responds to the kiss, allowing one of his hands to rest on your waist, as the other cups your cheek to guide the kiss. You place your hands on his chest, then slide them up to rest on his shoulders.

After you pull away, questions start pouring out of his mouth, “Jackson, shush. I didn’t let you kiss me last week because I was sick and I didn’t want you to get sick. It was a nasty cold.”

“Okay then, we have a lot of making up to do then.” He says, smiling brightly and dragging you over to the sofa. You spend the rest of the night on the sofa, slightly watching whatever is on the tv, but mostly making out and cuddling. The last thing you remember of the night is falling asleep on the sofa. You’re not surprised when you wake up in your bed, that happens most of the time when you fall asleep in the living room. What shocked you was waking up to Jackson also being in your bed. You smile as he leans over to kiss you, before moving away and getting up out of the bed.

Your heart sinks as he starts to cough violently, “Looks like you did get me sick after all Y/n.”

You open your mouth to start apologising, when he suddenly stops mid-cough and winks at you, before making his way out of the bedroom.

“That was such a dick move, Jackson.” You call out after him, throwing a pillow in the direction of the door.

[artfromtheunderworld]

Long Distance, Close in Heart

It’s more or less a strange encounter, one no one thought would take off as anything more or less relationship wise. All things considered, it’s an odd ball of events. Having another school come to U.A. was not anything surprising, what was surprising was how the other school’s students were.  Isamu Academy High School, an interesting set of characters, that had went against 1-A in the past, but now being put in front of the other hero’s course class. It’s something that should be noted, a verity, needing to know how to deal with them in case in the future, people with the similar quirks could be encountered. The following events...were..different from last time though, that’s for sure.

A loud cracking noise was heard, a body thuds to the hard ground, it was a sudden pain that shocked through, causing a soreness to spring later once this match was over. Arms shaking slightly as it all hit too fast. Juzo Honenuki was one of the few students that didn’t turn into a zombie, not only that but managed to get into a one on one fight with one of the students. Romero Fujimi, the cause of the whole zombie outbreak for this training session. As far as Juzo knew, and was able to analyze, the only parts of his class that’s made it through was; Reiko, Kendou, Awase, and maybe Kuroiro. They had their reasons for not getting infected, due to certain advantages they have against this quirk. Speaking of, the voice of Romero rung out, taunting, and seemed to be talking right to Honenuki as if he was really nothing. “Buahahaha!!! You’re lucky, I’ll give you that!! having a re-breather built into your costume almost made you a challenge to me! But, now with that pesky helmet gone, there’s no hope for you!” Having a cruel look, feeling more than satasifed to have taken down one of the recommended students of 1-B himself, there was obviously a huge beam of pride radiating off of him at the moment. Though, it seemed like he was more interested in standing there in confidence, laughing, than rather making a move to do anything else. Must be absorbed in the moment, so taking advantage of this, Juzo begins standing up, grunting from where he was laying. Sweat beads down his face, as some dirt was left, he moves to his full height, and turn around now with his eyes narrowed. There was his own set of confidence coming off of him, hair messy, yet kept it’s soft look as it frames around his determined features. “Don’t you dare count me out yet.” His voice carried a hiss behind it, showing there was more fight in him yet, and refused to lose, not if it meant his friends would too. Now, from someone else’s point of view, this was just set as another challenge if anything else, but everything seemed to stop for Romero. His eyes widen at the sight of his opponents face, seeing the exposed teeth, but if anything he found that to be attractive on the male in front of him. Taking a look at the messy hair, that appeared soft to the touch, the look in those eyes that made his heart squeeze hard. His stomach was doing weird flips, as he felt heat raising to his cheeks. This was NOT the same feeling as 1-A class from anyone, he felt his body shaking alone at the sight of this student, everything about him was perfect. “Ooh, my, gawd-”  But, was quickly unable to think any longer since there was a fist jabbing into his gut. Juzo had made the move to finish this fight with a swift punch, knocking the other down and out. Though, he did look around him, noticing the pinkish gas was going away, and glanced at Romero, taking a few seconds to understand that..”That was easier than I first thought, he didn’t put up much of a fight did he?” Really, unaware of what the actual reason of the knock out was.  After the match, and everyone had gotten changed, and set back to the 1-B classroom for evaluation, it seemed like Honenuki’s classmates were praising him on being able to take down the zombie guy without much issue. Causing Juzo himself to try not taking all the credit of course, but knew of what he did at the same time. He perks at the sound of footsteps behind him, looking over his shoulder as he saw Fujimi standing tall behind him. Jeez, he didn’t realize the height the guy had on him, but nothing he was intimated by. If anything he turns around giving a huge grin, a whole other aura than on the battle field for sure, it’s like flipping a coin. This caused more internally heart pain for Romero, just when he thought someone couldn’t be hot and cute at the same time, someone like this guy exists!! Impossible!! Though he does hold his hand out, giving a grin, that by others could be seen as creepy, but there was no ill intent behind it that was for sure. Honenuki would reach out grabbing the other’s hand, expecting a handshake. “Nice to meet you, I’m Juzo Honenuki!” Introducing first, but his eyes widen quickly watching his hand raise up to the other students lips, Romero would find himself in the moment, kissing Honenuki’s knuckles softly, as he would give a glance to him. The grin not falling. “Pleasure is mine, Romero Fujimi.” Sekigai, turns away from her chat with Kendou, and would clench her fists, and look annoyed at her other classmate, who appeared to be flirting. “Romero, we didn’t come here, for you to be a creep!” This caught some attention from others, Kuroiro and Awase more so, they both seemed just as annoyed and heated if anything else. out of the two though, Yousetsu was quick to pop off, his face red from feeling a spout of anger at the sight, it was bothering for some reason. “Hey Creepzoid, hands off Juzo!” Needless to say, it was a mess during that hour, of bickering. But, Honenuki had only felt embarrassed, his face was burning hot now, still feeling the sting of the kiss on his hand as he would try to stare at the ground, away from everyone else. But, his eyes gazed up now and then, to glance at the scolded Romero, who would give a side eye back, and small smirk on his face. Juzo jolts at being caught this time, and would move to hide his hands in his face, he felt his body get all hot, and just couldn’t form words. For once being caught off guard, and out of place of being able to even give a proper response to anyone who was trying to check on him, to make sure everything was alright. Now, this is where the oddball part comes in, this wasn’t the last time they talked, or saw each other either. It was hard honestly, since the schools were plenty far apart, making physical meetings hard for them. Though, it was hard to tell if they ever claimed to be a thing, so far it seemed like some obvious pining between them. More for Romero’s part if anything, since he still could picture how amazing Juzo looked from their fight, if you wanna call it that. But, they managed to set up one night, where they both were free from studying to be able to chat on their computers to each other. This is what was more commonly used between them, and there was nothing wrong with that. “Honenuki, I think it would be a great idea to visit you, it’s really no trouble. I do have my ways of being able to see you.” He states, moving his elbow on the desk, as his hand rests on his cheek. Finding himself a bit lost in those eyes, they were always so full of life, and joy, getting lost in them was easy to do. Juzo would give a bit of a nervous look, tugging at the hoodie he wore whenever he was going to bed, looking a bit unsure. “It’s a long ways to get here, are you really sure it’s fine, Romero? I don’t want you to come such a long way just for me.” It was flattering to have someone want to come over, but seriously, he really didn’t want the other to make a trip that would last a few hours. It made him feel bad. Romero would sit up, giving a more serious look, a small shine in his eyes as he would tilt his head to the side, his hair falling along with him. “Honenuki, I would go to the ends of the Earth to just see you.” Then, gave a smile to follow along with it, with a wink? Well, it was enough to get Juzo all flustered, somehow Fumiji managed to get him like this. It was like having small hearts in his eyes, grabbing his hood to tug it over his head, to try hiding his face. “You don’t really mean that!” He whines, obviously if he could, he would be smoking up from this chat. “But I do mean it!” A chuckle escapes from the lavender haired male, “You’re too adorable like this, only encourages me to do it more!” He exclaims, only to make Honenuki curl up in his chair whining loudly, and trying to keep his face hidden. “Why do you like teasing me so much?!” Peeking out of his hood, to stare at Romero, with a pout, but he obviously was enjoying the attention, and online affection he was getting. A big weak spot for him really.  “Oh Honenuki, darling, it’s not teasing, it’s the tru-” Cut off when Juzo’s door slams open, making them both jump from the sudden noise. Honenuki looks behind, seeing who was coming in, since he normally doesn’t mind whoever it is. There, standing with offended looks was Yousetsu, and Shihai. Juzo could only grin at them both, as some pink was left on his face from the chat. “Oh hey guys, need someth-aH!” Kuroiro picks him up with ease, and holding him under his arms, turning them away and dragging him out of the room with ease. “Shihai?? What’s up-wait, I have to tell Romero bye!” Though Kuroiro wasn’t listening, as he huffs. “He’ll be fine, this is for your own good, Honenuki.” With that, Awase looks over at the screen with his arms crossed, and narrowed eyes. “Better watch yourself creep, we got eyes on you.” Doing the whole ‘keeping an eye on you motion. Romero himself would feel his eye twitch a bit, noting that certain friends of Honenuki’s were a bit of a problem like before. But, he wasn’t blind to anything, he knew they were being protective, and it was done in a comedic way if anything. Then again...he never knew when to leave well enough alone. “That’s fine, while you’re doing that, I’ll make sure to keep an eye on Honenuki, he’s too much of a delight not to.” With that, he gives a wave, turning off the chat. Awase huffs loudly, moving to leave Honenuki’s room to go join Kuroiro in keeping their pal distracted for the time being. 

A/N: Weird way to leave it off, but, I kinda liked it. I hope you all enjoyed the fic, and the new spawn of a ship! If you couldn’t tell parts of this fic were inspired by @mint-mayhem​ ‘s drawings/comic. I figured to join in and add some content for this good ship!! 

[ear]

PLEASE share your vld reboot ideas aja the show canon is garbage and your mind is so galaxy brain

OK OK ALRIGHT!!!!!!!!!! alright so idk what kind of. earth landscape this reboot occurs in…. like yallve got this retro 80s/90s neon future verse going on but i didnt think my reboot version would fit into that so yall go wild with whatever hc for this earth reboot thing u want cuz im not creative and i didnt really think that far ahead

ALRIGHT here we go. this is so long i HAVE to put this under the cut but i hope yall enjoy the creations of my MIND……

- akeno “KEITH” shirogane: (age: 19) [gay] hes japanese/black/galran. hes still half galra in this reboot bc i fuck with that honestly but hes got more visible galran traits. his bottom canines are larger than usual and poke out from his bottom lip so he wears a mask to cover his mouth and his eyes r still purple but instead of his sclera being yellow(tinted), hes just like. got some odd golden flecks in his eyes. he normally wears a dirty mechanics jumpsuit with the top half tied around his waist and a black or white tank top underneath (hes still a high school flunk out so he works full time at a car repair shop so hes able to buy food and shit at LEAST + hes still got his motorcycle to keep in shape). his casual clothes r just regular grey sweats, hoodies, and adidas or whatever brand is closest in their future lol. hes blood related to shiro who ill get to in a second.. shiros blood related to him as his uncle (brother of keiths dad) ALSO his hair isnt long in this reboot, hes got a short messy head of hair that he mostly just pulls back into a TINY little pony tail on his forehead (like in the game show ep) so it doesnt get in his face while hes working. he also has goggles bc thats the one thing from yalls reboot ideas i actually like (endgame lion: he momentarily pilots black during shiros disappearance but his permanent and stationary lion is red)

- fal’allura “fala, ALLURA” naguna’ephy: [lesbian] (age: 21 or close to that in alien standards) shes altean on her fathers side and teem (what we’re gonna call nymas race) on her mothers side. she bares more altean features except her eyes are solid yellow and shes only got four fingers on each hand. instead of crescent shaped facial markings, she has painted on red and golden lines across her nose and her upper lip. her hair (very dark purple with silver highlights and literal glowing, twinkling stars) is VERY long, brushing the floor as she walks except and (now bear with me cuz this might be hard to explain) her hair, the farther down u look kind of fades away? like it becomes semi to absolute transparent… idk how else to explain it but i hope u understand…. she does wear a crown but its more like a headdress.. (imagine beyonces headdress).. she doesnt wear it often, usually only on diplomatic missions to greet other worldly rulers bc its heavy and it makes her neck hurt :/.. her dress! looks like this! but a little more spiffy .. u know.. her casual/training clothes are just…. idk imagine a royal looking sports bra and leggings?? i guess … ALSO ALSO ALSO she can still shape shift but instead of limiting her shifting to just the changing of skin tone and height, she can completely mimic different alien species but only humanoid races.. like she can have those indented looking knees and huge ass horns and all that but she cant like. turn into an earth lizard u know what im saying. also also also also she still speaks with an accent just… not a british one….(endgame lion: no lion. she keeps leading and piloting the castle ship until destruction, where she leads and pilots the atlas)

- alejandro “LANCE, ale” reyes-leon: (age: 19 ½) [bi] hes cuban/black/vietnamese. his dad is black and vietnamese and his mom is cuban! hes got longish afro textured hair he keeps back in a pony tail most of the time like this or a bun when training bc hes too lazy to put any actual effort into styling it. hes got a couple moles/freckles scattered across his face and hes got sectoral heterochromiaaround his left pupil so theres a little bit of blue in one of his other wise dark brown eyes (like this).. i havent really figured out what his clothing style is.. i thought about keeping his clothes close to vld canon like his jacket (bc that was a really good jacket) but im gonna go a little wild here so hold on. he wears one of those surfer type looking skin tight turtleneck shirts underneath his heavy bomber jacket.. he wears just regular ripped jeans and hightops like in canon…….. hmm……. he wears a pink bead necklace under his shirt that was made by his little cousin just a couple weeks before he was shot off into space and he hasnt taken it off since…………. he also has a tiny stick and poke tattoo on his ankle he did when he was thirteen bc he thought it would look cool but it turned out kinda lop sided so he never takes his socks off in embarrassment (endgame lion: blue to red (during keiths reign as black paladin) then to black when shiro leaves voltron to lead the atlas alongside allura)

- takashi “SHIRO” shirogane: (age: 31) [gay] hes japanese/black. hes keiths uncle and the only family keith really has .. his design doesnt really change much except hes got long hair (like kuron) but its pulled up into a messy bun or pony tail.. in MY canon hes still gay and married to adam (whos name isnt adam i just cant think of a new name for him yet) (and adam lives dont worry) and theyre working on adopting a daughter before shiro has to leave for kerberos. shiro usually dresses in work out outfits so like. gym shorts… tank tops.. leggings.. imagine those white blonde dudes who always wear a man bun and only eat vegan and drink chai from starbucks bc thats exactly how shiro acts but ONLY ironically ……… when shiros abducted on the galra freighter and forced to fight in the ring, his hair streaks white but instead of just a clean scar across his nose, he has multiple long scars scattered across his face from a one x one between his face and some debris thrown at him by a gladiator. his prosthetic looks and remains kinda the same i guess but this time its decked out with claws on the finger tips so it looks a little more galran yeah? (endgame lion: no endgame lion. he pilots the atlas alongside allura)

- francesca “frannie, frankie, PIDGE” eleonora: (age: 15) [trans girl lesbian] shes . just italian i guess. so anyway shes not gonna be an asshole bitch like canon pidge.. shes gonna be the caring sweet but KINDA mean little sister we always wished we had.. the little sister who would tell u, with all honesty, that ur winged eyeliner was smudged before u hit the town with the girls and made a fool of urself……. ANYWAY shes still gonna be the ‘hacker’/computer geek techno girl but not as much ykno? shes JUST a little girl so she just kinda does her own thing. i rlly like all the fanart i see of her wearing overalls and stuff SO thats her canon design…… she wears faded overall jeans over a short sleeved pale pink tshirt w a dog one it and scuffed up chucks. she wears glasses but instead of just taking them from matt she has an actual prescription and is basically blind without them. i literally cannot stress this enough but shes such a nice girl like the team pretty much adopted her as their little sister the moment they boarded the castle ship. idk what else to add on to her!!!! i literally did not put any thought into pidge at all! (endgame lion: permanently green)

- opetaia“HUNK” tuitama: (age: 19 ¾) [bi] hes samoan/black. hunk was adopted and has two moms and three other siblings, all of who are younger than him. im not sure about his fashion other than i KNOW deep down in my heart that he would wear cargo shorts…. i cant find it in me to get rid of his bandana thing so i let him keep it except he uses it to tie his hair up instead of using it as a head band thing….. HUNK in my au is more of a tech freak/engineer than pidge so he handles most of that stuff with the occasional help from pidge (like wiring… she has tiny fingers that can grab the wires easier) hunk probably wears the crocs/sandals with socks combo but just because he loves hearing lance bitch about it whnever he struts into a room. hunk also looks good in his vest so im gonna let him keep that but it looks more modified… like it has a bunch of pockets and stuff to keep bolts and nuts and other stuff he needs to work with.. thats also why he wears cargo shorts; just for the pockets.. (endgame lion: permanently yellow)

also ur probably wondering “if lance is in black and keith is in red and allura doesnt pilot a lion, THEN WHOS PILOTING BLUE????” …….. heh… peep this………..

- ADAM elsammak-althani(thank u mal @fuckvld for ur gorgeous arabic adam hcs..): (age: 32) [gay] i dont have much to say about him other than read mals hc lists and that ADAM LIVES IN MY REBOOT and he also joins the voltron team and pilots the blue lion (i FIRMLY hc that hes a very free/wild spirit and just loves to make jokes and is just.. a really fun guy to be around and obviously blue would open up to him in a SECOND. dont even @ me) (endgame lion: BLUE!)

[the-little-ace-birb-blog]

Malec: What to do when they are hurting

Magnus knew what to do. There had been a lesson on this during the mental health unit of his health class. “How to recognize when a soulmate is self-harming and what to do.” He tried to think back to that lesson.

“If you begin to see marks that look self-inflicted it is your duty to report to a trusted adult. This is a sign that your soulmate is mentally unhealthy and it is possible that you are in danger,” or something like that. Magnus couldn’t think straight. Cuts were appearing on his arm and blood was beginning to bead along them. He looked around his classroom to the rest of the students who were for the most part paying attention to the teacher’s lesson. He raised his hand nervously before retracting it quickly as he realized he had raised the wounded hand. Breathing deeply Magnus raised the other hand and flagged down the teacher.

“Mr. Bane, if you don’t have a question I would appreciate it if you would refrain from interrupting my class.” Magnus glared at Mr. Garroway and waved him towards himself silently. He arched an eyebrow but approached nonetheless, “This had better be-” he cut off when Magnus indicated towards his arm under the desk so no other students could see, “By the Angel! Bane come with me!”

Magnus stood, pulling his sleeve down over the marks before following him out of the room.

“How long ago did this start? Is this the first time?”

Magnus looked at Mr. Garroway but his gaze was fixed forward, “This is a first but they’ve always been clumsy. I have all sorts of bruises and cuts all the time. I always check the book,” Magnus referenced the book children were given to check the types of wounds their soulmate got to ensure their safety, “and nothing has ever looked like it wasn’t accidental.”

Mental illness and abuse had become rampant a few hundred years ago and legend had it that Raziel created soulmates to be protection for one another. Laws fell into place to use soulmate bonds to protect both parties. There was now a third party that wounds could no longer be hidden from. Children were given books to check any marks that appeared in case there was a chance their soulmate was in danger. And now Magnus’ soulmate was in trouble.

Mr. Garroway nodded at Magnus’ response then stopped in front of the school’s guidance section. He gestured to one door with a plaque that read “Ragnor Fell, Child’s Soulmate Advisor.” Magnus thanked Mr. Garroway and knocked on the door. A gruff and accented voice called for him to come in.

As soon as he closed the door behind him he broke. He pulled his sleeve up and began to sob, “He’s hurt, he’s hurting himself and I didn’t no. I didn’t know he’d been hurting. I don’t know what to do.” Magnus began to repeat the last phrase until Mr. Fell gathered Magnus up into his arms.

“It’ll be alright my boy. We can track him then call the proper authorities,” Mr. Fell didn’t question Magnus’ choice of pronoun. It was well known that you couldn’t be sure the gender of your soulmate but people tended to adopt gendered pronouns based on personal preference. Magnus didn’t really have any but there was a feeling in his gut that “he” was right.

He blinked his tears away and looked up at Mr. Fell. He nodded and went to take a seat. It was taboo to track a soulmate unless you thought the soulmate was in trouble. There was a special prayer the blessed few were given that allowed you to find them in a moment of crisis. Magnus tried to relax himself and prepare for whatever it was until he felt a new pain on his wrist.

Now alone with the cuts, there was a bruise the shape of a hand around his wrist. He looked up at Ragnor with wide eyes.

“What does this mean?” Mr. Fell shook his head and pulled a book off of his shelf. He rifled through it before he found something. He put the book down and started looking for something else. The whole town he didn’t pause to fill Magnus in on what was happening. Magnus looked on worriedly as Mr. Fell looked through different colored powders. He pulled out a violet colored powder and shook some out into his palm. He looked up at Magnus then blew it in his face. Magnus coughed and sputtered as he tried to dispel any powder he had accidentally breathed in. When he opened his eyes the whole world had an orange hue. His heart began to beat quickly and he started blinking rapidly to rid himself of the orange film.

“What color?” Ragnor asked flatly. Magnus looked up at the man slightly indignantly, starting to feel that possibly Ragnor was not to be trusted. Still, he was all Magnus had so Magnus told him that he was seeing orange. Ragnor frowned then spoke softly, “Domestic abuse.”

Magnus felt his heart stop. His soulmate was experiencing domestic abuse. Someone else was hurting him. It was a relief because it was easier to put an abuser behind bars than to cure mental illness but it also meant that his soulmate was in a relationship with someone that wasn’t him. As all of this washed over Magnus Ragnor began to mutter something and Magnus felt his bond being tapped by an external force. He wanted to fight it as it felt foreign and unwelcome, but he forced himself to let Ragnor into his side of his bond.

As soon as he did he could feel his soulmate struggle against it. They were fighting, not just the intrusion but something else. Magnus had never felt him this much. Ragnor had opened the bridge between Magnus and his soulmate allowing them both to fully feel each other as if their bond was complete. As the connection settled Magnus felt the boy on the other end call out to him.

“Magnus, don’t please. Go back. I’m fine.” Magnus was about to cry. Not only did his soulmate know who he was, but he knew him and chose someone else, someone that was hurting him, “No, it’s not like that. Magnus, please don’t hate me. Just go away. Tell him to go away too. I can deal with this.”

Magnus shook his head even though he knew his soulmate couldn’t see him, “I-I can’t hate you,” The voice that spoke Magnus’ words through the bond wasn’t his own so he could only assume that the voice he was hearing didn’t sound like his soulmate either.

“Then go.” The words were spoken(thought?) so softly it broke Magnus’ heart. He opened his eyes and saw Ragnor looking at him imploringly. That was when he realized he had shut Ragnor out of their bond. He took a deep breath and nodded to Ragnor. “I’m sorry darling.” right after Magnus spoke those words He felt Ragnor locate the other side. A name solidified in his mind.

Alexander.

His soulmate was Alexander Lightwood. His eyes flitted open and Ragnor was already at his computer.

“Ok, I’ve had it up to here. You tell me what is happening or I’m going to leave and find him myself!” Magnus glared at Ragnor who gave him an unamused look over the computer monitor.

“I’m looking up what class your soulmate is in right now. You got lucky. The boy goes to this school and he is supposed to be at school today. I’m going to call his teacher. Ah-” Ragnor straightened and moved over to his phone, “room 475, Mrs. Heroendale.” before Ragnor could even call Magnus was out of the door.

Alec wasn’t in the classroom. Someone couldn’t have been hurting him in a room full of other people. He must be in the bathroom nearest to that room. Magnus began to sprint through the school as his thoughts tried to swallow him whole.

Alexander Gideon Lightwood was a shy, intelligent boy in the year below Magnus. He only knew the kid’s name because last year he had come out rather dramatically. It had been the talk of the school. Posterboy Lightwood get’s tackle kissed by Sebastian after being named homecoming king along with his thought to be girlfriend. It had come out that Lydia, the imposter girlfriend had been a front, to be fair Alec had been a front for her as well as it was soon discovered that she had been in a short lasting fling with Clary something or other. But Alec’s information was more talked about.

Sebastian claimed that they had been dating for a while, though Lydia denied knowing about it, thinking Alec was fully closeted to everyone. Alec himself had never said anything about it. He had looked very surprised and not overly receptive in the videos of the kiss that had been spread around the school.

Magnus had congratulated him for his courage and come out not long after that. In fact, he had come out to Alec while congratulating him. Magnus wanted to hit himself, he had spoken to his soulmate, confided in him his suspicions of his soulmate being male. Had Alec known then? He had made it clear that he knew before Ragnor’s interference. Had he known then though? Magnus hoped not, he didn’t want to face what that meant.

His thoughts were coming to a simmer as he reached the bathroom where he could hear a pained voice, the voice of Alexander.

“I’m sorry Seb! No please I wasn’t cheating. Please don’t. He’ll see!”

Another voice responded with a growl, “I want him to! I want him to feel it as much as you! Both of you deserve it!” Were they talking about Magnus? Magnus found himself pausing outside to take in more of the situation before barging in.

“I wasn’t even looking at him! You know I haven’t talked to him since last year!” Alec’s voice was wavering but he didn’t sound as if he was in pain, just scared.

“Then how did you figure out he was your soulmate! I heard you talking to Izzy! She asked about those scratches you always have and you said that Magnus has a cat. How the fuck did you know it was him!” Sebastian was fuming and Magnus felt like he couldn’t hang back any longer.

“I saw a paper cut that day, my paper cut.” Alec’s voice was soft and Magnus could tell he was looking down like he did when he was nervous, the way his voice was subdued.

Yeah, Magnus had only heard of the boy last year but that didn’t mean he hadn’t taken interest. Magnus was bisexual and weak and Alec was hot, what are you gonna do.

He had heard enough and he ran into the bathroom. Alec’s eyes went wide and he let out a hushed version of Magnus’ name that sounded like a prayer but sent Magnus’ mind to sinful places.

Alec was pushed up against the sinks and Sebastian had a hand around one of his wrists. Sebastian’s other hand was clutched around a knife that was held up and glinting in the light. He was hovering over Alexander, a feat since he was much smaller in stature than Alec. To be fair Alec, despite the fact that he physically took up a lot of space, didn’t really take up any space.

Magnus’ jaw set in anger at the sight before him, “Get the hell off of my soulmate.” The words came out in a stalled voice so thick with anger Magnus scared himself. Sebastian seemed to be thrown off of his rhythm momentarily but quickly regained his composure.

“It doesn’t matter when he is to you, you’re nothing to him. Right, Alec.” Sebastian snarled turning to Alec who looked down and nodded his head silently. But as soon as Sebastian looked up to smirk at Magnus Alec looked up and shared a look with Magnus that spoke so many things, especially with their newly opened bond.

It told Magnus that Alec was sorry.

It told Magnus that he did mean something to Magnus.

But above all, it told Magnus to just walk away.

Now that Magnus could see Alec’s eyes, the bond that had been opened felt strong enough to travel across. After the initial opening, it had gone slightly dormant until this moment when he saw Alexander look at him like that. Both of them felt it and both of them fell into the bond. The outside world faded away and it was just them face to face in an empty grey room, one that Magnus recognized as a bond room, a place where thoughts could be shared safely.

“I’m sorry,” Alec spoke as soon as he realized that they were safe. Magnus, well the embodiment of Magnus’ emotions rushed forward to embrace Alec. He whispered softly into Alec’s soft hair which felt so real despite Magnus knowing that this was all in his head.

“Why didn’t you tell me, darling.” He was referring to what he had heard earlier about Alec learning about their bond the first time they had spoken. Alec pulled away from Magnus and looked down with shame.

“A lot of reasons. You were with Camille,” Magnus scoffed at the mention of the she-demon’s name to which Alec quirked an eyebrow but just continued, “Sebastian…” Alec shivered, “had me. And you were- are so,” Alec stopped and gestured to Magnus.

“Glittery?” Magnus questioned, trying to lighten the mood. Alec laughed and nodded.

“Let’s go with that.”

Magnus nodded thoughtfully, “Not exactly the type to bring home to dear mom and dad huh?” Alec scowled at this assessment and Magnus cracked a half smile to show he was joking. Alec shook his head and began to pace.

“It doesn’t matter now. Magnus, you have to leave. He’ll hurt you.” Magnus scoffed and lifted an arm.

“He already has dear.” When Alec just gave him a confused look Magnus checked his arm and realized that this mental version of himself didn’t have any injuries, “Well fuck that makes dramatics a little difficult.” Magnus mumbled, Alec chuckled, “Still you know what I mean Alec. As long as he has you he can hurt me. I can get you help- Yes!” Magnus cut himself off exclaiming.

Alec jumped and sent Magnus a confused expression, “What?”

“Help! I have help. Wake up or leave or whatever! Go it’ll be fine.” Alec gave Magnus a hurt look before he visibly pressed his emotions down. Magnus, sensing this disturbance caught his arm, hoping it would keep him here for a few more moments, it did. “Not like that dear. I know what do do, help is coming.” With that Magnus gave Alec a kiss on the cheek and shook himself back to reality. It seemed as though almost no time has passed. Sebastian was still sneering at Magnus and Alec was in the same position.

The look on Sebastian’s face was faltering slightly though, “What is it? What are you doing!” Sebastian demanded, dropping Alec’s arm and advancing towards Magnus. Magnus’ eyes flitted to Alec and he sent a mental message to run as he tried to keep Sebastian’s focus. Alec nodded and slipped away behind one of the stalls to the janitor's entrance. Magnus knew he only had to stall for a few more moments before-

“Sebastian, drop the knife.” An adult voice sounded from behind Magnus and he knew that Ragnor had come through. Sure enough, when he turned he found Ragnor standing with a police officer who had her hands up and was speaking to Sebastian.

As much as Magnus wanted to stay around to watch Sebastian get hopefully arrested, he needed to check on Alec. He quickly retreated behind Ragnor who peeled off from the officer to follow Magnus.

“What happened, where is Alexand-”

“Magnus!” Alec came down the hall from where he had escaped and ran up to Magnus to give him an actual hug, in the real world and not just in their bond room.

“Alexander!” Ragnor looked between the two with the makings of a smile playing at the edges of his lips, “I see that despite Mr. Bane’s reckless behavior you are both ok.” He took in the boys matching cuts, “Well almost ok.”

Magnus nodded and looked at Alec who had retreated back into his nervous shell, “We need to get you to the nurse. I know for a fact those hurt.” Magnus tried again at humor, again being rewarded with Alec’s(now real) laughter.

[builder051]

Come to me now and rest your head part 13: Halloween (MCU Captain America fanfic)

This is part 13 of a 15-chapter fic about Bucky’s return and recovery, as told through a year’s worth of rough holidays. Not every chapter will be emeto, but all have some form of physical illness or mental health struggle that could be categorized as sickfic or whump.

We are in powers/no powers choose-your-own-adventure.

Contains emeto and migraines.

__________________________________________________________________

Bucky’s first day of work is the day before Halloween.  It took a few days after broaching the topic of a job with Steve to broach it with Sam, and all of two minutes after broaching it with Sam for him to offer Bucky a position at the VA, but it’s taken the better stretch of two months for Bucky accept and choose a start date.

If Bucky remembered his first day of kindergarten, he thinks he’d remember something like this morning.  Steve irons Bucky’s favorite flannel shirt and packs him a lunch and so many snacks that he doesn’t think he’ll be hungry enough or have time in his 4 to 6 hour workday to consume them all.

Sam comes by at 8:30 to pick him up.  Bucky doesn’t make it out of the bathroom until 8:33 because he’s quashing anxiety under the guise of trying one-handedly to pull his hair into a ponytail.  Luckily, Steve’s there to rescue him from the hair elastic and pour Sam a cup of coffee so everyone’s pretty much satisfied.  Sam and Bucky are on the road by 8:45.

“You’ll have flex hours,” Sam explains as they pull into the VA staff lot.  “So you can come in at any time you want as long as you make 20 hours in a week.  You can do 5 days of 4 hours, or 2 days of 8 and a 4, or whatever works in your schedule.  And your start time doesn’t matter.  I can keep picking you up, or Steve can drop you off, or if you feel like walking or someday you’re driving yourself…whatever works.”

It’s already a lot of information to process.

Sam leads Bucky down a maze of hallways.  Bucky’s grateful it’s away from the hospital-y wing and toward a more office-y area.

“Here you are,” Sam says, pushing open a door decorated with a large paper pumpkin.  “The billing office.”

There’s a waiting area with two pink upholstered chairs and an end table with several outdated magazines.  Behind a long counter sits a young woman in her 20s, and beyond that, Bucky can see several drab grey cubicles.

“Hey Darcy,” Sam says.  “This is James.”  They’d agreed beforehand that Bucky wanted to try going by his given name.

“Oh, hey,” Darcy says.  “I’ll get him set up.”  She smiles at Bucky.  “Come on back.  We got 4 part-time billers, but it looks like you’re the only one home today.”

She opens a swinging door at the end of the counter and escorts Bucky and Sam back into the cubicles.  They stop outside the end cube, which has a nameplate reading “JAMES” clipped to the dingy fabric.  “This is you,” Darcy says.  “You can decorate or whatever.  If you want.”

“Hm,” Bucky says.  He sets his backpack, which is filled mostly with snacks, on the desk beside the rather outdated computer monitor.

“You ready to get started in the system, or do you wanna walk around a little bit more first?” Darcy asks.

“Um…”  Bucky doesn’t know.

“I just ask ‘cause everyone’s pretty different in how they like to attack a new job.  How about I get you logged in, and you let me know if you want to break for a tour.”  Darcy steps back to her desk to wheel her swivel chair into Bucky’s cubicle.

“You’re doing good,” Sam reassures.  “I’ll hang out for a little bit.  But you’ll be fine with her.  She’s nice.”

Bucky sits at the computer and follows Darcy’s directions to log onto the computer and access the timekeeping system, then the billing system.  He nods at Sam when he slides out of the cube, feeling at least somewhat settled and in control.

“It’s a lot of clicking, and a little typing.”  Darcy glances at his stump arm and gracefully balances her looking before it becomes staring.  “Being a biller, it’s not that hard, but the pay’s so good because your real job is to keep confidentiality.  It’s all vets looking out for vets here, so that’s not really that hard either,” Darcy says.

“You’re a vet?” Bucky asks, not meaning it to come out so candidly.

“Yeah, I know I don’t really look the part.”  Darcy adjusts her glasses.  “I enlisted out of high school and did one tour.  Got injured, got discharged, now I’m going to college and doing this on the side.  Cause it pays better than my old internship.  Billing is cool except if you want to talk to people, so that’s why I do the desk instead of hanging back here.  You probably think I’m weird, but I like answering the phone.”

“Oh,” is what Bucky drudges up for a response.

She stays by his side for another 20 minutes, showing him how to take electronic paperwork and use it to fill out more electronic paperwork, match diagnosis codes, check names and addresses, and finally submit documents for filing.  It seems tedious, but manageable.

“I think you pretty much got it,” Darcy says.  “I’ll leave you to it.  Unless you want to go for a walk?”

Bucky shakes his head.

“Ok.  The tour’s not all that.  It’s really just a trip to the breakroom.  And the only thing cool about that place is the coffee.”  She continues, “So, just press on, I guess.  Ask questions if you have them.  Or if your monitor goes trippy, I know how to hit it so it goes back to normal.”

Bucky doesn’t ask what that means.  He just nods.

“Oh, and there are jolly ranchers under the counter if you want some.”  Darcy points to her station.

Bucky nods again as she retreats, and turns his attention to the new claim form on his screen.  He blinks hard to try to mitigate the glare of the fluorescent lights against his computer screen.

He makes it through that form and the next two before his head starts aching.  It begins as the normal shake-it-off kind of headache that usually means nothing more than too much coffee or not enough coffee or it’s cloudy or it’s Tuesday, but within half an hour, it’s progressed to the start of a migraine.

Bucky pushes his keyboard back and rests his forehead on the edge of the desk.  He can’t remember what he put in his backpack.  There might be Excedrin somewhere among the sandwiches and granola bars.  Bucky doesn’t really want to raise his head to check.  Aura’s creeping in behind his eye and edging out his peripheral vision with white light.

The phone rings, and Darcy’s clipped voice answers it.  “Fuck,” Bucky mutters as the sound ratchets up the pain toward sickening nausea.  His forehead and right temple are throbbing so badly.

Darcy hangs up the phone, and something plastic crinkles.  “James?  You want some candy?” she calls.

Bucky doesn’t want to open his mouth to answer.  He’d rather just crawl under the desk and curl up and die, but that doesn’t seem appropriate for his first day on the job.  He ends up having to stick his head under the desk, though, and heave into his small trashcan.  And it’s just his luck that Darcy’s rounding the edge of his cube to offer candy just as he gags up his breakfast.

The bag of jolly ranchers hits the floor, and Darcy says, “Oh my god, ok, hold on a sec, let me call Sam.”

Bucky’s heart throbs in his sinuses and he retches again.  After a few seconds, or maybe a few years, footsteps sprint up behind him.  Sam’s on his knees at Bucky’s shoulder.  “Ok, man, you’re good, you’re good.”

Sam walks him to the bathroom as soon as Bucky’s stomach’s settled enough for him to stand up.  The vertigo’s still thrumming so strongly he can barely walk a straight line.  Bucky steps into the single stall and leaves the door open, squatting in front of the toilet to heave some more.  Sam puts a hand lightly on his back and quietly asks, “You got words for how you’re feeling?”

Bucky can’t convince his throat to come out of contraction, so he just spits into the toilet.

“It’s ok if you don’t…”

“Is…huh…’s a migraine…” Bucky breathes, stopping to hiccup.

“Alright, alright.  You tell me when you’re ready to go home,” Sam says.

“I feel so…god, ah, fuck…” Bucky dry heaves one last time and sinks back against the wall of the stall.  His face is pure white and sweat beads on his temples and upper lip.

“Yeah, I know you don’t feel good.  It’s your first day here, you’re probably all wound up…”

“Sorry,” Bucky chokes out.

“No, it’s fine,” Sam insists.  “Dude, it’s the VA.  Don’t you go thinking you’re the only guy that’s ever had a tough first day.”

It takes Bucky another few minutes to calm down and feel ready to ride in the car.  Sam retrieves Bucky’s backpack, lends him some sunglasses, and leads him out to the parking lot.

It’s by sheer willpower that Bucky manages not to be sick in Sam’s car.  The second they’re in the front door of the townhouse, he trips off to the downstairs bathroom.  When he emerges, paler and shakier and sweatier than before, Sam pushes him to the couch and serves up lukewarm water and painkillers.

When Bucky next opens his eyes, Steve is home from work, and Sam’s at the kitchen table, on his fifth back issue of Nat Geo.  Gatorade and Ritz crackers are open on the counter, and Bucky feels famished under his lingering nausea.

He meanders into the kitchen and sits beside Sam.  Steve brings the snacks over and pauses to wrap his arm over Bucky’s shoulders.  Bucky leans forward to press his face into Steve’s chest, and Steve tightens the embrace.

Sam finishes reading his magazine, snags a handful of crackers, and takes his leave.  “You don’t have to come back to work tomorrow if you’re still not feeling great,” he says to Bucky.  “Take as many days as you need.”

Bucky gets back to work on November first. When he gets to his cubicle, Sam and Darcy are screwing lightbulbs into a few desk lamps and cheap torchiers.

The first time Bucky makes it through his scheduled workday, it’s many thanks to the support of his friends.

[captain-zajjy]

Solstice, Chapter 19 - A Final Fantasy XV Story

Pairing: Ignis x Female Original Character

AO3 | Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

A/N: Sorry this one got posted kinda late! I've been super busy all day and only got a chance to sit down at my computer just now. It really hurts me to write Iggy struggling like this, but it would be unrealistic if he wasn't.

Gladiolus growled to Ignis’s right, and Ignis spun away on his left heel, feeling the breeze as Gladio’s blunted practice sword slashed the air where Ignis had just been standing. Ignis crossed his practice daggers in front of his chest, blocking the thrust he already knew was coming. If only all his future opponents would be so considerate as to wear a chain on their belts and cycle through the exact same combination of movements during each sparring session.

“You’re holding back,” Ignis said, shoving Gladio away from him.

“Yeah,” Gladiolus said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Which, perhaps, it was. “Ain’t trying to kill ya, Iggy.”

“I’d like to think it would take more than a few hits to kill me,” Ignis replied, standing on the balls of his feet to prepare for another round. “Even from you.”

“Heh. Is that supposed to be trash talk?” The chain affixing Gladio’s wallet to his belt rattled as he shifted position, marking him as five or so feet in front of where Ignis stood.

Ignis slid backwards to stay out of the man’s considerable reach. “If I intend to antagonize you, you will know it.”

Gladiolus grunted with effort once more, and the gymnasium floor quaked with the pounding of his heavy boots. Ignis easily dodged the charge by leaping backwards, but gasped as something hard and unyielding collided with the back of his shins, causing him to lose his balance and topple forward. At least he managed to catch himself before his face hit the ground, causing only his knees and pride to be battered.

“Bloody hell,” he cursed under his breath.

“Bleachers behind you,” Gladio said, helping him back to his feet.

“Yes, I surmised that,” Ignis snapped, immediately regretting his tone. It wasn’t Gladio’s fault that, in the past six weeks or so, inanimate objects had become the bane of Ignis Scientia’s existence.

“You alright?” Gladiolus asked, concern lacing his usually gruff tone.

“Fine.” Just more bruises for Val to fuss about. He wanted to be annoyed with her for that, but he knew if their situations were reversed, he would not have let the topic go so easily. Or, perhaps, at all.

“You’re getting better,” Gladiolus offered.

Ignis frowned. “Don’t patronize me.”

“When the hell have I ever done that?” Well...never, Ignis supposed. That wasn’t Gladio’s way. “I’m serious. You’re getting better.”

“Until I run into the furniture,” Ignis muttered.

Beside him, Gladiolus suddenly lurched. “Ugh…”

All of Ignis’s self-effacing thoughts vanished in the wake of his friend’s sudden distress. “Are you ill?” he asked, sticking a hand out to brace the larger man’s shoulder.

When he got a whiff of Gladio’s sweat, smelling of stale alcohol, he realized that his friend was sick, but there was no reason to be concerned.

“Allow me to guess...whiskey? Or perhaps bourbon?” Gladiolus had always had a penchant for hard liquor.

“Heh…” Gladio’s laugh was cut off by the audible churning of his stomach. “Your nose might be almost as good as Umbra’s, Iggy.”

“I don’t think one needs superior olfactory senses to tell that you’re hungover.”

“Well?”

Ignis tilted his head. “Well, what?”

“Aren’t you gonna tell me to knock it off?” Gladio asked.

“Why would I? I’m not your boss.” And Ignis knew that, whatever his vices, Gladiolus took his duty - to both the Crown and his sister - every bit as seriously as Ignis took his own.

“Iris has really been on my ass,” Gladio grumbled.

Ignis crossed his arms over his chest. “It wouldn’t hurt you to help out around the house once in awhile.”

“It ain’t that,” Gladiolus said. “It’s, you know…”

Ignis shook his head. “I’m afraid I have very little experience with younger siblings.”

“She dropped out of school. She wants to be a Hunter.” Gladiolus sighed. “Gimme a break.”

Ignis smiled. “She’s growing up.”

“She’s sixteen,” Gladiolus replied. “And this ain’t the kind of world any kid should grow up in.”

Ignis gave his friend a sad, understanding smile. “We’ve very little say in that, unfortunately.”

“Just when the hell is he coming back?” Gladio growled. “It’s already been a damn month.”

“I don’t know,” Ignis admitted. Somehow he figured that their missing Prince was at the root of Gladio’s mood. If only he could offer some - any - insight into the Astral’s cryptric message.

At a loss, he merely asked, “Perhaps we should call it a day?” Ignis felt a bead of perspiration roll down his back between his shoulder blades, and wanted to at least rinse off before escorting Valeria home.

“You saying I need a shower?”

“I believe that would be prudent, yes.” Ignis once again shrugged off Gladio’s helping hand, instead nodding to indicate he would follow the larger man to the locker room. Ignis had memorized how many steps it took to cross the breadth of the gymnasium from the bleachers to the opposing wall, and was only uncertain of the location of the locker room door relative to his current position.

When they entered the locker room, him a pace behind Gladiolus, Ignis was abruptly stopped by Gladio’s outthrust arm. “Hold up.” Then he heard the sounds of clothing and other objects being kicked or shuffled around on the floor, Gladiolus grumbling all the while. “I keep telling them to pick up their shit,” he muttered. “This place is a pigsty.”

Given the state of Gladio’s lodgings, Ignis knew his friend’s insistence that the Hunters put their things away was more for his benefit than anything else, but he merely nodded in response, allowing them both to keep up the pretense.

When the floor was cleared, he felt his way to the showers, removing his sunglasses and clothes, leaving them neatly folded on the nearest bench. Cold water dripped from the shower head, causing gooseflesh on his skin, all except for the scarred area around his left eye, which registered the mild discomfort not as temperature, but the sensation of pressure, like someone pressing their fingers into his cheekbone.

He hadn’t been able to speak with a real doctor about his injuries since leaving Altissia, but Ignis believed that some underlying nerves must have been damaged along with his eyeball and the surrounding tissue, leaving the wires of his nervous system crossed, so to speak. It wasn’t too painful - usually - but it was quite strange, feeling pressure when the rest of his body felt cold.

“That was your friend in the Marshal’s office, right?” Gladio asked from the shower stall beside him. “The one you’ve been trying to get a hold of?”

“Indeed,” Ignis replied as he ran a bar of soap under his armpits.

“Must be pretty relieved.”

“Indeed,” Ignis said once more. If you want to know something, Gladio, you’re going to have to ask.

“So...you still up for that run to Galdin next week?”

Not the question Ignis had been expecting, and frankly a topic he’d entirely forgotten about since Valeria had arrived. The Hunters had intercepted a transmission from Galdin Quay, begging for power-related supplies - batteries, lightbulbs, and such - and promising a load of fresh fish in exchange. Lestallum had no problem charging batteries, but they were going to have a serious problem with food very, very soon. Rather than make it a one-time exchange, Ignis had volunteered to accompany Gladio to try to work out some kind of ongoing trade.

“Of course,” Ignis replied after rinsing the suds from his hair. “I can hardly leave negotiations in the hands of a man who seems to think shirts are optional items of clothing.”

“It's like I keep telling you - intimidation factor,” Gladio said in reply.

Ignis joked, but the truth of the matter was, he didn’t want to leave Valeria so soon, now that she’d finally arrived. He didn’t want to, but the city and the people needed him, and he’d promised the Marshal to help however he could - and negotiating was something he still could do, without question.

“She can stay with Iris, if you want,” Gladio went on. “Your friend.”

“I think she would prefer that.” Ignis turned off the water, ran a towel through his wet hair, then slung it around his waist. “Thank you.”

“Heh, well...ain’t the only reason I’m asking,” Gladio said as he stepped out of the shower. Ignis knew the man hadn’t bothered to cover himself, and knew that it had very little to do with the fact that Ignis was now blind. What had he just said? Intimidation factor. Ignis coughed to disguise a laugh.

“You’d like an adult to keep an eye on Iris?” Ignis ventured, returning to their conversation. He donned his sunglasses and tucked his shirt into his jeans before zipping the fly.

“It ain’t exactly babysitting, but…” Gladio’s voice trailed off into another groan. “Ain’t showers supposed to help with a hangover?”

“I believe that’s the actual state of intoxication itself. If it’s any consolation, I can barely smell you anymore.”

“Ha ha…Iggy’s got jokes.” Gladiolus thumped him on the arm. “Imma head home and sleep it off. You good?”

“On finding my way back to the Marshal’s office?” Ignis asked. “I should hope so.”

He was still a bit fuzzy on other locations in the building - the classrooms converted into the Hunter barracks, the makeshift armory, the cafeteria - but the gymnasium and ‘Vice-principal’ Cor Leonis’s quarters were the two parts of the former school that he frequented the most.

Ignis made his way up the stairs and turned down the hallway to the Marshal’s office, following the sound of Valeria’s voice and - somewhat to his surprise - Prompto’s chattering.

“Hey, Iggy,” Valeria called to him.

“Ignis! What’s up?” Prompto said.

“Prompto,” Ignis nodded toward his voice, then turned his head slightly to where he thought Valeria was sitting. “I apologize for keeping you so long.”

“Yes, my social calendar is really full this afternoon.” Valeria’s sarcasm caused Ignis to grin.

“Don’t worry, Iggy,” Prompto chirped. “I kept her company.”

Oh, dear. Ignis may have grown quite fond of Prompto, but it certainly hadn’t happened overnight. “Are your ears still attached?” he asked Valeria. “Or did he talk them both off?”

“Oh, come on,” Prompto muttered.

“Prompto is a perfectly lovely conversationalist,” Valeria said, clothing rustling as she rose to her feet. Ignis was certain Prompto was blushing profusely at such a compliment from a woman.

“You’re all scruffy,” she said playfully, nudging Ignis’s shoulder. Ignis raked a self-conscious hand through his damp, messy hair.

“You think that’s scruffy?” Prompto asked, incredulous. “You should see Gladio after three straight days of camping and no shower.”

The smell was worse than the sight, in Ignis’s opinion, but he kept that to himself.

“I said ‘scruffy,’ not troglodyte.”

Ignis snorted a laugh. Accurate.

“Huh?” Prompto said.

“Caveman,” Ignis explained.

“Ohhh. Yeah.” Prompto laughed. “Pretty much. So, uh...you guys...”

Ignis shot a threatening look in Prompto’s general direction. “What?”

“Are you, like...living together?”

“Where else would she stay?” Ignis retorted.

“Don’t you only have one bed?”

“Yes,” Valeria replied smoothly. “And there’s no space for you.”

For Gods’ sakes… “I sleep on the couch.” Ignis felt blood rush to his cheeks. “And I have lunch to prepare. Shall we?”

“Alright,” Valeria said as he took her elbow. “Bye, Prompto. It was nice to finally meet you in person.”

“Totally! See you guys!”

Ignis would have considered inviting Prompto over for lunch if he hadn’t been acting so Gods damned nosy; he knew that the only time the younger man had a proper meal was if Ignis or Iris prepared one for him. But the mishap at training this morning had already left Ignis feeling out of sorts, and the last thing he wanted was to unfairly vent his frustrations on a friend.

When they reached the front steps of the building, Ignis released his grip on her elbow and breathed deeply, despite the fetid city air assaulting his nostrils, preparing himself for the mentally exhausting task of getting them back home.

Valeria grabbed his hand and put it back on her arm. “I think I know the way back,” she said gently. Because you’re so obviously hopeless at taking the lead, Ignis imagined her saying. He knew he was being unfair - Valeria would never say something like that to him, even if it was unequivocally true.

“How was the rest of your meeting with the Marshal?” Ignis asked, trying to distract himself from his own, dark thoughts.

Valeria sighed. “I don’t know if anything I said really helped. It’s just…” Ignis felt the muscles of her arm tense. “Whenever I saw the Niffs, I wasn’t thinking about the size of their patrols, or what kind of weapons they were carrying or anything. I just didn’t want them to kill me.”

I’m so sorry, he wanted to say, although he realized at this point he was beginning to sound like a broken record with his apologies.

“You’re a civilian,” he said aloud. “Of course you weren’t looking for such things.”

“I know, I…” Alongside him, her shoulder sagged. “How was your training?”

“Mildly humiliating,” Ignis replied before he could stop himself. That’s right, Specs. Keep whinging. “I apologize.” There it was again. “You don’t want to hear me complain.”

“You can complain,” Valeria said. “You can say whatever you want. I told you before, Ignis - you don’t have to be a certain way for me.”

But I do, he thought. I do, because if you knew how unsure I am, how frightened, you wouldn’t see me as a man, but a sad, lost child. And pity was the antithesis of desire.

Valeria only took one wrong turn on the way back to the apartment; if Ignis noticed, he didn’t say anything. The sea of people spilling out of the city streets was still overwhelming and vaguely frightening - if she’d learned anything in the past six months, it was that people only looked out for themselves.

People, except for Ignis. And probably Prompto, Cor Leonis, and the others too. I want to be like that, she thought. I don’t want to be bitter and cruel like everyone else.

“When was the last time you went outside the city gates?” Valeria asked as the town square came into view. A large fountain, which had probably been quite a relaxing sight in its heyday, now sat among the crowd, its playful spouts no longer running, water in the basin filthy and brown.

“Not since we arrived, I believe, about three weeks ago. They hadn’t erected the gate then.”

“How do all the people outside not starve?” she asked.

Ignis shook his head. “I suppose their friends and family lucky enough to make it inside smuggle out what they can. But, that’s hardly an acceptable solution.”

“No,” Valeria agreed. “It’s not.” And if not for the stroke of luck that had allowed her to hold onto her identification, she would be stuck outside there with them, hungry and dirty and afraid.

“I hate the Niffs,” she said. “I really do. But this…”

“The people out there aren’t soldiers,” Ignis said. “They had nothing to do with what happened to the Crown City.”

“I know.”

“Why don’t you speak to EXINERIS about it?” Ignis suggested. “When you meet with them.”

Because I’m probably going to be laughed right out of their offices, she thought. Aloud, she said, “I’ll try.”

Once, Valeria would have marched right up to the CEO’s desk, nose in the air, every fiber of her being commanding confidence - even arrogance, perhaps. It was so easy to be self-assured when you had the weight of millions of gil behind you. Now, she was a beggar, a person who ran away from her fears while leaving others behind to suffer. You can’t go back to who you were, she thought. That life is gone now. But she didn’t want to be a scared little mouse anymore.

They lapsed into silence then, walking arm in arm. The streetlights glowed warmly in the constant darkness, bathing the cracked, cobbled streets in soft gold. It would almost be romantic, if not for the ubiquitous stink of filth and getting jostled by a passing stranger’s shoulder or elbow every twenty feet. What would her mother think if she could see Valeria now? ‘Get your head out of the clouds, girl,’ her mother’s voice came. ‘Romance is a waste of time.’ Or so she had always said. But hanging onto her wedding ring told a different story. Maybe it just hurt too much, Valeria thought, unconsciously moving closer to Ignis’s side.

But she knew what her mother would say about meeting with EXINERIS. ‘Don’t let those idiots push you around. Don’t you dare take no for an answer.’

I won’t, Mom. I won’t just try - I’ll succeed.

The chaos of the Market brought Valeria back to reality and out of hypothetical conversations with dead relatives. She grabbed Ignis’s gloved hand, interlocking their fingers, then pushed and elbowed a path through to his apartment.

After they ate lunch (cold, but oh-so-delicious sandwiches, again), Valeria began to clear the table as Ignis went to use the bathroom. Somewhat curiously, she noticed light coming from under the closed door, and watched him switch it back off upon exit.

“Ignis, can you tell when the lights are on?” Given what he’d told her over the phone, Valeria had assumed he couldn’t see anything at all, but perhaps she had misunderstood.

“I can,” he said. “But that’s about the extent of it.”

“Oh.” Valeria felt both pity and joy at his reply. At least he’s not entirely in the dark, she tried to tell herself. The thought only offered a modicum of comfort.

“It may seem like a trifling thing,” Ignis went on, as if she’d spoken her thoughts aloud, “but, given the circumstances, it’s actually quite useful.”

Valeria thought about that for a moment. “If you can tell where it’s light and dark, you can tell where it’s safe.”

“Indeed. Safe from the daemons, anyway.”

“That’s good,” Valeria said. She knew she had to stop looking at this as what he had lost, and focus on what he still had (his life, his wits, his strength), but it was just so damn hard. Still, she thought, I must do it for his sake.

And while they were addressing the blind elephant in the room, she thought she might as well get out what she’d been grappling with since reuniting with him in Lestallum. “Iggy, I...I want to help you, however I can. But I don’t want to insult you by making assumptions.”

The way Ignis seemed to hang his head made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all. In the nearly ten years that she’d known him, he’d always been so independent, self-sufficient. Valeria remembered riding the subway with him when they were fourteen and feeling so grown-up, buying her own ticket, going where she wanted without any adults tagging along.

She had always been on her own too, ever since her father had bolted, but her mother had ensured she was surrounded by a handful of attendants - butlers, bodyguards, babysitters. Not Ignis. His uncle made sure he was provided for financially, but Ignis had always had to take care of himself. How could he ask for help now?

“It’s not insulting,” Ignis said quietly. “It’s…” He let out a heavy sigh.

“Don’t be ashamed, Iggy. Please.” Valeria stood over where he sat on the couch and gently rested his head on her chest. “You know I think you’re wonderful, no matter what. I just want to help.”

Ignis grabbed her waist, pressing his face against her body. “...Thank you.” His voice was thick, quivering.

Oh, Iggy. Valeria buried her hands in the back of his hair, rested her head on top of his. She felt his chest heaving as he began to quietly weep. Probably for the first time since everything had happened, knowing Ignis.

“Forgive me,” he mumbled, as Valeria slid his sunglasses up and over his head, placing them in his lap so he’d be able to find them later.

“Shh, Iggy.” She held him tightly, knowing, perhaps instinctively, that he needed this. “There’s nothing to forgive.”

His sudden outburst of emotion left Ignis feeling more than a little humiliated, and more than a lot relieved. Even he could only bend so far before breaking.

You’re wonderful. You’re wonderful. Only a fool could think that of him as he was now, a shadow of the man he used to be. But Valeria wasn’t a fool. She was the cleverest person he knew, and she’d offered those words to him freely, unsolicited.

And it had been that expression of kindness, not scorn or pity, that had finally split him open, spilling out everything he’d been burying deep since Insomnia fell. Ignis couldn’t recall the last time he’d cried; intellectually, he knew that grieving was essential to processing loss, but it still felt like weakness in him, a weakness he was unable to stem once it started.

“I apologize,” he repeated once he was finished, slipping his sunglasses back on and extricating himself from Valeria’s warm embrace.

“It’s okay, Iggy,” she said gently, rubbing his arm. “It’s okay. Want some water?”

“Please,” Ignis said, swallowing the phlegm in the back of his throat, despising how brittle and raw his voice sounded. How you must look to her, he thought as he mopped the moisture from his face with his handkerchief. Like a little, lost puppy.

He drank the water she brought him, suspecting she was watching him all the while. Even as it filled him with shame, Ignis had to admit he felt undeniably lighter, lighter than he had in months, since before Altissia.

“Thank you,” Ignis said, handing Valeria the empty glass. “For dealing with me.”

“I like ‘dealing’ with you,” she said simply. He heard her rinsing the glass in the kitchen sink, the gentle clink as she put it away in the cabinet.

“What’s on the radio?” she asked, pausing where he knew his table was, midway between the kitchen and where Ignis sat on the couch.

“Ah.” Ignis lifted his head, grateful for the change in subject. “Hunters use radio frequencies to communicate when they’re out in the field, since cell reception is so poor.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed. “So you’re not hosting your own talk show?”

In spite of himself, Ignis cracked a smile. “Goodness, no. Can you imagine?”

“I’d listen,” Valeria said. "You have a great voice."

He shook his head, still smiling. Since the Marshal had sidelined him, Ignis tried to assist however he could, monitoring the hunters’ calls, offering strategic advice or suggestions, coordinating rescues or aid.

“Someone’s been broadcasting old radio serials,” he offered. “If that’s more your thing.” Ignis was fairly certain it was just an ordinary hobbyist, not an actual radio station, but regardless of the origin, any sort of entertainment was a welcome escape in these dark times.

“Really?” He was surprised to hear excitement in Valeria’s voice. “I loved those as a kid. My dad and I used to listen to them at night while we waited for Mom to get home.”

“Your father,” Ignis broached the usually sore subject while she fiddled with the radio dials. “Is he…?”

“Dead? No. Last time I checked he was somewhere in Accordo.” Ignis couldn’t help but feel a little shocked at the glib way she spoke of her father’s safety. There may have been little love lost between them, but he would’ve thought her mother’s death would have forced some sort of reconciliation.

“You didn’t go there?”

“There’s no way I’m getting on a boat in this mess.” Valeria found the station with the serials and joined Ignis on the couch, sitting so close their sides were touching. “Besides, I’d rather be here with you.”

“Oh.” Ignis cleared his throat, feeling a flush creep up the back of his neck. Maybe she really was a fool - a beautiful, brilliant, bloody fool.

[thepackratchronicles-blog]

Ch3

I don’t traffic in anything have to do with dark magic. Black stuff, the sort that requires blood rituals and deals with demons. Beyond my own, staunch morality, I’m rather allergic to it.White magic, fae charms, and everything between doesn’t even make me itch, but dark magic? My eyes water, my sinuses fill, and my throat feels like sandpaper.This is exactly what happened to me not five minutes after calling Iris. I sneezed in rapid succession and scrambled for a hanky. This would be a long day, I could already tell. Turning the dial of my radio, I picked up a police scanner and listened to all the words fit to broadcast. There had been an attack at Enoch’s store. A struggle, and a man dead matching Enoch’s description from two bullet holes in the back of the head. Very nice. Very professional. I felt my blood boil. I am not, by practice, a man prone to rages. But when someone not only kills a valuable sort of magical goods. Someone I’ve known for a very long time, well I can’t say it doesn’t get my dander up.Blowing my nose, I struggled to pull on my parka, beanie hat, and gloves. I had to do some thinking, and doing it holed up in my pack was not the most productive. I needed fresh air. Salt air.About two hours later I was at the docks. It’s my favorite place to mull things over. Also, like most ‘rough places’ in any city or town, it’s where you’re more likely to find some magical inhabitants.Glamours are expensive you see. Oh sure it’s easy for a thousand year old vampire to pay to keep themselves looking and seeming human. But when you’re a down on your luck Troll trying to feed a brood of kids, a halfhearted masque is the best you can manage.One being in particular, a Hill Giant named Larry, was the one I was after. He ran a seedy little bar at the docks, which catered to the lost and found of magical beings. Especially those who could afford no manner of glamour. And thus had  to keep out of the eyes of ‘normies’ lest the MPD (Mystical Police Department) swoop down and lock them up.Larry was massive, and likely eight feet tall when he stood upright, which he never did. He hunched like most of his kind, and was cleaning massive iron mugs when I entered. He snorted his greeting, and I slipped onto a barstool.“You ain’t wanted here, bub,” “Now now Larry. You know quite well I paid my tab last we-” “Ain’t about the tab. You got yerself a price on yer head.” I blinked once. Twice even. A price? How was that even possible? What could I have done to warrant such an over-exaggeration of a reaction.“Come again?” Another snort. “-y’heard me short-stack. Some.. high end lawyer wit’ a bit of dark power behind him put it our on th’magic radar a half ‘n hour ago. Says anyone who brings y’in gets a hefty price. Gotta be alive tho’, so there’s a comfort,” A half an hour? I had been safe and snug in my little abode a half hour ago. This was ridiculous. But I felt the proverbial weight of a target being draw on my back. I scratched my beard and pondered.“Any chance you won’t tell anyone I’ve been here, Larry?” There was a long pause. He of course was waiting for the reason to not be telling anyone. Digging into one of the many pockets of my parka, I slid him two gold coins, which he took. “-Course not, we’re friends ain’t we?” I didn’t stay much longer at Larry’s place. When you’re prey, you move. As I stepped onto the docks once more, I was spotted. Men in suits... same as the sort that had shouldered me outside of Enoch’s shop appeared on either ends of the long shore. “Ah... feck,” I muttered to myself. I myself, am not one for fighting. In a one-on-one brawl, I can handle myself alright. I’ve watched countless hours of professional wrestling. I know that a good thumb in the eye, or kick in the jewels halts most any fights. But four buff men in suits? No thank you.I weighed my options. I doubt I could run. I didn’t have time to dig into my pack for anything proper. I only kept simple things in my accessible pockets, anything heavy got cataloged away. That’s when I thought of it.A month ago, a mermaid had needed some help getting her children out of debt with a rather disgusting goblin. He was using their songs to get people into his establishment of ill-repute. Abused them rather severely. Normally I’d have taken such a task without charge, but she insisted I take something. So she had given me a pearl. One time-use. Apparently it would allow me to ‘Swim like fish. Fast and true. Much fast’ (she was in fact, a Russian mermaid.)I had never had a chance to test it, do to it’s single use, so I couldn’t organize it in my collection. But now seemed as good a time as any. In a flash, I sunk my hand into one of the pockets of my pack, and heard the splintering of wood. Those bastards were throwing hexes at me!I made a mad dash towards the edge of the dock. Popping the pearl into my mouth, I swallowed and jumped into the icy waves below.My muscles screamed in agony. My chest pounded at the shock. I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay under for long. Not a chance. That’s when it happened.I felt my clothes loosen. My arms shrank... my legs seemed to.. melt together. For fuck’s sake. Swim like fish. Swim as a fish. I’m a fucking fish!A marlin to be precise. Thankfully a large enough animal to where I could still carry my jacket and pack. The only two items that mattered and swam as rapidly as I could towards salvation. My pack hanging off a fin, and coat perched on my spear-like snout.I had no idea how to get where I needed to go, I was never a boating sort of person. But the further I got away from those goons, the better I’d be. I kept to the coastline, until I was able to pop up to recognize the lower half of the city. That’d work. I didn’t know how long it’d take to revert back to myself. So I huddled under a dock near the city, and tossed my pack and jacket onto shore. Both hidden by shadow and planks. Then swam aimlessly until I felt the change take place.Once I had the appropriate amount of appendages I scrambled out of the water. I shook the beaded water off my parka and pulled it on . Both my pack and coat had been jinxed to be VERY weatherproof. I thanked that leprechaun, wherever he was.I popped into my bag long enough to dry off. Change into warm dry clothes, a sturdy pair of boots, and a few more layers to keep the hypothermia out. I also grabbed a flask of Orcish Spirits, and after a gulp I felt the feeling rush back to my fingers and toes.Once I was back into the real world, I slung my pack onto my back, and started on foot. I had no idea where I was going. I was very sure that I couldn’t go to any of my usual haunts. They’d likely be watched. And I refused to put anyone in danger recklessly. I did text Iris. Not because I was concerned. She is definitely a woman who could take care of herself. But because I told her I’d be off the grid for a while, and gave her some vague details about why.I received a reply of “Right”. Which was clearly a disguised statement of love, concern, and admiration. I decided then and there that I would in fact be safest among the normies.Magic is a very well kept secret. And the people who enforce that secret are some of the strongest and scariest people you’d never hope to meet. No matter how much power this strange, Warlock... Lawyer.. Lawyerlock had, he wouldn’t dare risk exposure en mass. I went to a mall, for I love the mall as it’s filled to the brim with people determined not to pay attention to you. There I spent a useful hour doing research on my now third cellphone of the day. Devouring a side of “Left Side Moon’s” lovely orange chicken. Iris had installed an app that let me read the “Magical RSS Feed”. Which apparently announced all the goings-on in our world. And true to his word, Larry was right.“Bounty - Packrat Moe - Vast Gold Reward - Alive - Any Information Paid - Contact 555-8392″ “Well Well... this is interesting,” I whispered to myself, the only council worth a flick in times of crisis. I forwarded it to Iris, and asked her politely, if a little vaguely to see if she could find out who had posted it. Her answer came not twenty minutes later.-Someone trying to keep hidden. Lots of magic loopholes. Burnt out computer tracking it down. Bought new one, sending you invoice.- I rolled my eyes, but continued reading.-Law Firm, Ghul & Associates. Nothing on the man who runs it. Doesn’t exist.-I thanked her. It wasn’t much, but it was more than I had had before. I at least had a starting point. I stocked up on supplies, food, odds and ends, and once more set out. I had an appointment with a lawyer to keep.