#and gave Cross a dead gaze when he joked about the dress?? :'D

[zu-is-here]

Could you do a drawing of cross and dream sans wedding?

[xo-cuteplosion-xo]

Too late | Dazai x reader |

Too late | Mafia Dazai / dazai x fem!reader |

( A very shitty attempt at a song-fic. )

Warnings- toxic relationship (minor mentions of abuse?), death

A brunette sat on the cement. The tan folds of his coat fluttering out behind him. The wind brushed his hair from his face, it stung his eyes and brushed his skin with bitter cold air. His fingers dripped the brightest shade of crimson. His eyes had dilated and shook with shock and fear. The skin his hands desperately held, already losing its warmth. Lips stained the color, as well as the outfit that resembled his own. Those blood-stained lips coughed final words before letting go. How, how had this happened? Why had he never predicted this? Why would you ever do this?

He knew those answers like he knew his own crimes. After all, how could he forget? He’d been the reason you fell, he’d only denied it for years.

The sun fell softly along the stone. A boy, no older than 15, walked along the stone edge of a bridge. His brown locks flying within the wind whilst he adjusted the bandage over his left eye. He paid no mind to you, even as you walked behind him. Your feet carried you on the safer ground, next to the edge. It was common to find the two of them like this. You were always with him, whenever you could be at least. He never seemed to notice you were there; You didn’t mind it though. The rare moments where he did suddenly ask you questions were enough. Rushing to close the distance between you and him, you caught a glance of his eyes darted to the side. He was looking at you, the single eye that showed seemed puzzled, before he parted his lips to talk to you; His arms opened at the same time. Skipping around steps, he smiled, “Hey, why are you still following me, woman? Don’t you have a better hobby than stalking me?” so he did notice you at times.

Flustered you froze before chuckling with a light hum. “No, not really Dazai-san. I think you're interesting! You're the only one I can't read.” you were referring to your ability. It wasn’t much, so you weren't too high up in the ranks. You could read thoughts, see their feelings in the form of aura, and manipulate that aura. So far, you could make people freeze up and lose themself in an overdose of emotions. Also known as individual illusions created by their auras; things only they could see. It was hard to believe you were even in the mafia. Your bubbly appearance and lack of interest in killing made you look harmless. You never killed, but when you worked with another they sure had an opening to kill.

Dazai leaned down so he leveled with you. “I wonder, have you ever thought of using that ability to induce such outrageous depression, one acts on it?” blushing you took several steps back shaking your head.

“N-no, sir! I d-don’t think I could do that. Well, if Dazai-san really wanted me to, I-I could try it for him!” What were you saying? Knowing this demon prodigy, you’d probably end up not meeting the expectation and ending up punished. Though, would that be so bad?

He puffed his cheeks out, jumping from the edge to land in front of you. With a half-smile, he flicked your forehead. “You keep doing the opposite of what I predict. I really can’t get a read on you.” turning away you covered your face.

“I-is that a compliment?” you mumbled, looking through your fingers. He shrugged, jumping back to the ledge. His eyes lost their glimmer as he looked down. He seemed to be judging the distance; With a heavy sigh, he looked back to the sky.

“If only this was a little higher. I think falling into the water and dying right away, without the pain of falling to the ground, would be okay. I’d drown unconscious, how peaceful that would be.” you didn’t respond as he turned and began walking again.

~

Year after year you walked by his side, growing with him. Slowly that bubbly gaze began to fade ever so slightly. The fun-filled times like the day on the bridge no longer existed.

My head is haunting me and my heart feels like a ghost

Standing next to the demon prodigy you stretched out your hand with a sigh. “Ability: vortex of emotions.” from the shadows you worked alongside him. The enemy's hands reached their head. A perching scream echoing as they turned their gun to themselves. Looking to the side your eyes met the brunettes; They were colder than they were a year ago. Sighing, he raised his pistol and shot. He pushed past you, and you followed numbly.

I need to feel something, 'cause I'm still so far from home

Entering the box he called his home, his hands grabbed your waist pulling you towards him. His fingers lifting your chin. The flutter of your heart pounded against your chest, the closer his face came to yours. “You really should stop following me everywhere. If you won’t at least try to kill.”

Cross your heart and hope to die. Promise me you'll never leave my side

Nodding as he released you, he sat at his desk. “Mori won’t be happy that we clocked out so early.” he leaned back groaning. “Found a new suicide method? I don’t want to deal with his annoying voice tomorrow!” his older persona slipped through. The light in his eyes spread before it disappeared with your silence. Yet despite that, there was a caring hint to his posture. The way his hands moved softly, how he traced your bow. How he exhaled with a sigh when you closed the door

Show me what I can't see when the spark in your eyes is gone

~

Another year went by with a soft ease. You stood in Mori's office, a blank expression on your face. You were sure you were dead. Messing up like this, letting somebody get away. You were shaking, unsure why your breaths still rang. The doors opened to the brunette mafioso. Dressed in all black, a short ginger walked at his side. The way your emotions suddenly changed was unnoticed by everybody but Dazai. His eyes set in glares as you looked away. Your heart raced, why was it you still felt like this? He treated you as a pawn, yet you still ached to kiss him. Mori blamed your failure on Dazai’s lack of discipline with you. “I’ve been more than lenient with how she follows you around. If this happens again, it will be you who pays the price Dazai.'' Why did this have to happen in front of the ginger? His eyes looked at you with sympathy. It was weird to see such a thing. Dazai rolled his eyes stepping closer to the ginger as his eyes darted to you. Puffing your cheeks out you looked away.

Once you were in his office, he practically pulled you by the ear. Pushing you to the floor with his frustration. “I don’t understand why I keep you around! All you seem to do is put me in situations that bore me to death!”

You've got me on my knees I'm your one man cult

You looked up with begging eyes. “Please, I’m sorry Dazai-san! Please forgive me! I’ll do better! Please don’t leave me.” he was the first person to ever make you feel real emotions. Fear, excitement, lust, love, heartache, despair. He gave it all to you.

Cross my heart and hope to die Promise you I'll never leave your side

It was an unexpected look, an unexpected plea. His eyes showed excitement. “There, there’s the reason! You can’t stop doing the opposite of my expectations, every time I think you’ll do something, you manage to shock me, even in this kind of situation! I wonder, would you commit suicide if I died? It would be so unexpected!” his voice was full of wonder as he lifted your chin using the front of his foot.

Looking at him he smirked. He'd known, all along, about your feelings. He teased you all the time, but maybe he could finally get an expected reaction from you. It would be possible to toy with you. Maybe then he’d be satisfied with you. “Would you ever be only mine? Something only for my eyes?” with wide eyes you nodded.

Cause I'm telling you you're all I need I promise you you're all I see

With a smile, you brought your hands to press against your chest. With a desperate smile, your eyes filled with that childish light from when you were 15. “Even if I'm only being used for your satisfaction, it would be all I need! You're the only one for me." Once more he was shocked by the response. Nearly losing the balance he had, his hand reached to his face a soft snicker leaving his lips.

“You’re utterly helpless.” he hummed, removing his foot from under your chin. “Come here darling~” he was certainly stressed today. A little fun wouldn’t hurt, right? “Tell me you’ll never leave.” he hummed holding your chin within his fingers. The blush on your cheeks darkening in your complexion.

'Cause I'm telling you you're all I need I'll never leave

His lips met yours. Shivering you closed your eyes, letting a tear fall. You wished he truly loved you back.

~

Another year passed, you stayed by him no matter what he did. He was crueler than ever. He often left you at night to go hang out in a bar. Those nights were lonely but a ginger often peeped in to see you. “You look like hell.” he would always tell you how messed up you looked. “Why do you stay by him?”

The images passed by your head. The boy you fell in love with. The young 15-year-old. The one with a smile that would show itself here and there. The young boy who jokes around, the carefree one. You picture the feeling of his fingers over yours. Cold yet so warm in those years.

So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

“I love him.” you hummed watching the male drop a bottle of wine in your lap. He walked out leaving the gift. He knew you understood how cruel he was. He had never really pitied anybody before but you… you were something he pitied. A demon prodigy's toy, your relationship was nothing more than toxic.

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames

Sipping on the wine you drank yourself drunk. “I love him… he loves me. I love him. He loves me, I know he does. I’ve seen some softness in those harsh eyes.” you wiped the tears looking up to the ceiling. What had you gotten yourself into? Why did your heart have to play you like this?

I will follow you, I will follow you

~

He stood looking so conflicted, broken, and unsure. It wasn’t the first time you saw him without the bandages but it was the first time your dull lifeless eyes saw him this vulnerable. “Figures, you do follow me everywhere.” his voice was blank of anything; You could no longer read his voice.

Come sink into me and let me breathe you in

It was true, you needed him, so of course you followed him everywhere. “Go, we’re done! I’m not going back! This is all Mori's fault! He’d be alive if it weren't for inviting that damn organization here!” he was upset, yet he seemed so confused. Like a child, he had no grip on what he was feeling. Was he angry, grieving, sad? He couldn’t tell.

You ran to him wrapping arms around him. “I will go with you! I will follow you!”

I'll be your gravity, you be my oxygen.

You'd hold him down during this pain. You’d help him achieve whatever it was that he needed. “Even if it is death, I will not leave.”

So dig two graves 'cause when you die I swear I'll be leaving by your side

With a soft sigh, he pushed you away. “That changes nothing, follow if you have to but I never loved you.” you backed away smiling you curtsied.

“I know Dazai, I know you never did and never could. You are a demon prodigy, one that can’t understand his own feelings. I wish I could help, but your gift cancels mine out.” your voice was sweet as honey, but he shed you no more glances as he walked away. Following him, you sighed.

~

Two years later your empty eyes sat at an agency desk, you'd bought an outfit to match his. Those feelings refused to leave you even after all this time. They surged more than ever. He was like his 15-year-old self again, different but at least there was life in his eyes. He laughed and flirted just as he did those years ago.

So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

You looked to the cafe waitress’s hand, then your own. How you wished to be her. You stood up, walking out and to the office of the agency, sitting in your chair, Kyouka walked up to you. She once had your eyes. Dull, lifeless, broken, but then Atsushi seemed to save her. “Do you love him?” she asked tilting her head as you looked from your phone to her, you sighed.

“Yes, but I'll suffer for life over this. I had my chance and now it’s gone.”

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell

She set down a small piece of paper. “I found this.'' She tried to give you a smile that wasn’t pity. They often asked why you always looked so disturbed. Maybe it was the fact you were really all alone now?

And you can throw me to the flames

A tear dropped from your eye. Something, a feeling you hadn’t had in so long. It was worth it, these empty dull years. “A tossed away letter to apologize.” you held it to your chest.

~

I will follow you so you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

You found yourself alone on a mission. This was assigned to both you and Dazai, but he had other things he wanted to be doing. Neither of you knew how dangerous this was. He had not batted an eye at this mission. It was simple, a simple recovery mission. A ransom kidnapping, simple in and out. You could handle it without being seen. You ached for the warmth of his hand. A little light lifted your eyes as you stepped into the building.

When his fingers opened his phone accepting the call, he nearly fell over dead. The mission you were attending wasn’t a retrieval; It was a set-up. Despite how careful he'd been, somebody had found out about you. More so his past with you. His mind was too focused on you to think of who let it slip.

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames

Dazai pushed past the doors too late. This was his fault, all of this. The loss of your true self.

I will follow you, I will follow you I will follow you, I will follow you

You'd always said you would follow him. It was always like that. He had taken years to figure out why he never ignored or let you go. He was selfish, he had grown attached. Ango and Oda had even offered the thought. The thought that, maybe in this heart; swallowed by black, he loved you.

It was his turn to feel desperate as he dropped down. The blood flowing from your stomach in spurts.

So you can drag me through hell If it meant I could hold your hand

He held your hand in his while also trying to keep the bleeding down. “I’ll get help! Just hang on, we just need Yosano!” it was the first time your heart slowed like this; The first time you could read him like a book.

I will follow you 'cause I'm under your spell And you can throw me to the flames

Your hand was growing cold, your breathing staggered. You looked to be in so much pain. “No, I won't be that long. You should leave, you don’t love me so…” your voice trailed off as your head tilted to look at his cheeks. Tears… there were tears.

He shook his head pressing your hand to his forehead. “I will follow you.”

Your eyes widened as a light chuckle left your lips, “I will follow you.” you hummed, as the crimson left your lips. He was forced to watch you die in his arms. There was one final look on your face. A giant smile, a real smile on your lips. “I love you Osa…” then, you were gone.

Another, another friend in his arms, dead. No, you are more than a friend. “I… I love you.” he’d never said those words, and it didn’t matter now. There was no going back. He held you to him, cold and motionless.

Somebody from the mafia had done this. Somebody would probably be Mori… he’d dropped this low before, it wouldn’t shock him if he were trying to drive Dazai to murder again; To get him kicked from the light.

For you, for the wish left by Oda, he wouldn’t let himself fall that low. He’d be strong.

[itslulu42]

Sensei

Ninja Dorks Flailing at Interpersonal Relations Part Twenty-one AKA the Finale!  Where I bring the series full-circle.  :D

I left it pretty open-ended because the whole “plot” is Kakashi and Sakura being the cutest couple in town.  

One more cute thing.

Every day.

ONE | PREVIOUS

Sensei

Ten Years Ago….

“Did you see her?”

“Yes,” said Tenzo as he adjusted Kakashi’s arm which was over his shoulder.  “I think everyone saw her, sempai.”

“I need a woman like that. She was so strong. None of the cilivians can do that.  Cilvians.  Non-ninja.”

“Civilians,” Tenzo corrected as he half-carried Kakashi down the road.  “I don’t know why you torment yourself with those relationships.  You don’t have anything in common with them.”

“Mm… they don’t know me. I can’t disappoint them if they don’t know me.”  Kakashi grimaced.  “All I want is a woman that can crush twenty—no—fifty watermelons between her legs and doesn’t know me and lives in Konoha.”

Tenzo noticed that at some point, Kakashi had stopped trying to walk at all.  Tenzo was carrying Kakashi’s full weight as the man’s feet drag along the street.  “Does that woman even exist?”

“No. I’m too fucking famous,” Kakashi grunted as he extracted his arm from Yamato’s grip, stumbling over to the building to lean on it.  “Fuck, I think I drank too much.”

“I would agree.”  It was a rare occasion that Kakashi wore unless if it was the aftermath of a grueling battle.  He watched Kakashi lean against the wall before giving up and sliding down to the floor.  Tenzo joined him, placing his elbows on his knees as he waited for Kakashi to get a grip on herself.  Finally, Tenzo couldn’t take the silence anymore.  “You’re too hard on yourself, sempai.”

Kakashi made a miserable noise but didn’t say anything in reply.  Tenzo didn’t bother asking either.  He had known Kakashi long enough by this time to know there were certain anniversaries that involved heavy drinking.  Kakashi didn’t share the reason and Tenzo didn’t ask.

That’s just how things were.

Four Years Ago…

Yamato nodded in thanks as the server brought another drink to his table.  The restaurant was quickly becoming one of his favorite places to eat after a long mission.  It was always busy and for good reason.  The food was excellent, the service was prompt, and there was always a familiar face. Maybe he should move to an apartment on this side of town.  

Yamato’s thoughts were interrupted by a giggle.

"Spill it, Forehead! What's the deal with Baldie?"

Yamato recognized the voice behind him, although he couldn't quite place it.  He focused his chakra so he could hear the conversation better.

"Hound visited the other day when I was training with Tsunade-sama.  He didn't get in the middle of our training; he just landed on the edge of training grounds.  Out of nowhere, Tsunade-sama turns her attention away from me and throws a tree at him.  He leaped into the air and used a lightning jutsu to destroy it."

Yamato smiled as he realized Sakura was talking about Kakashi.  His former ANBU Captain had returned from Suna when everyone had written him off as dead.  Yamato had met Kakashi outside of the Hokage's office before his mission a week ago. The only thing that had changed about Kakashi was his lack of hair; he had to shave it off in Suna so he wouldn’t be so recognizable.

"I've never seen such an intense spar before.  It was so cool."

"That's crazy! Did Hound make Tsunade-sama mad?"

"No.  I think she was testing his skill.  Or maybe she wanted to teach me something."

"Well, did you learn anything?"

Yamato turned from his seat, deciding it would be an excellent time to make his presence known. He might not be able to share much about Kakashi or his identity, but she should at least know that Hound was as loyal as they come.

Sakura giggled. "I learned he has a cute butt."

Yamato's greeting died his throat.  

Sakura turned red as she noticed Yamato.  "Sensei? What?  Did you hear?"

"I hope you have a nice day, Sakura-chan."  Yamato threw some money on the table and left the restaurant, leaving his half-eaten meal behind.  He was going to have to find a new restaurant to frequent.

Present day…

Iruka raised his arm as he gave a toast to Naruto and Hinata.   Yamato raised his cup with the rest of the crowd.  It was hard to believe that Naruto was married and that Yamato was able to aid to the young man’s growth.

"You must be very proud of him."

Yamato turned his head to see Kurenai standing at his shoulder.  "I am.  Thank you so much for your guidance.  I don't think I would have been a proper jonin-sensei without your wisdom.” Kurenai laughed.  "Everyone could see you were completely lost.  It's the least I could do with a team like yours."

"And where’s Asuma?"

"He took Mirai home since it was past her bedtime; I think I'll stay out for another hour before joining them.  We tried to find a babysitter, but everyone we trust with Mirai is here.   Pretty soon our students are going to have children of their own.”

Yamato chuckled in his glass.  

"Speaking of which..."  Kurenai looked at a spot somewhere behind Yamato.  He turned his head slightly to see Kakashi and Sakura standing side-by-side as they spoke to Hinata.  "How did you manage to pull that off?  Even if I recognized the potential between the two of them, I don't think I would ever have mentioned it.  Kakashi always completely shut down any time I ever mentioned anyone he should date. Then he would spend weeks avoiding me."

Yamato cleared his throat and gave a nervous smile. "Ah, well, I guess the timing was right. He can't run away if he's Hokage."

Kurenai gave a sly smile. "I suppose your right.  Good evening, Kakashi-sama."

"Kurenai, how many times have I told you that you don't have to call me that?  Please, drop the ‘sama.’"  

"I could, but it's more fun to see you squirm when I say it."  Kurenai crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow.  "Why aren’t you dancing?  Do you think it's wise to let Neji have the honors?"

Kakashi snorted. "Don't worry.  I'm certain if they get a little too cozy one of my Anbu guards will break them up."  

Kurenai’s eyes widened. "You're joking. Please tell me you're joking and that you’re not using a team of highly-trained assassins to watch over your life."

"It's a long story."  Kakashi gave Yamato a suspicious look.  It took every ounce of Yamato's training to not react.

Did he know?

"Is there any chance that we'll be attending your wedding soon? The two of you look cute together."

Kakashi stern gaze melted away into embarrassment.  "Ah... Ah... No.  Not for a few years at least.  Sakura has only left the village a handful of times and none of the experiences were pleasant.  I’ve been on so many missions and they’ve taken me all over the world.  I’ve shared a few stories and she’ll get this look on her face.  Longing, maybe?” Kakashi hummed as he looked out into the crowd.  Neji and Sakura were dancing the mambo.  

“Sakura would probably say ‘yes’ if I asked her today.  And then she would feel obligated to stay in the village.  If she wants to go on a mission at that takes place during a dance competition, she should have the chance to do so without feeling guilty.”

Sakura and Neji gave a bow to their audience as the song ended.  The crowd was parted enough that Yamato could see Kankuro drinking out of an enormous fruit cocktail.

“And what about you?” Kurenai inquired mildly.  “You’re a mess.  Are you sure you can handle it when your girlfriend’s away?”  

Yamato laughed as Kakashi scowled in her direction.  When given the opportunity to voice her thoughts, few were as ruthless as Kurenai.

“I’m not going anywhere. And I trust that Sakura will come back to me.  She did the first time around, after all.”

Kurenai shook her head in disbelief.  “Kakashi of the Sharingan is in love.  I’d tell Asuma about this, but I don’t think he’ll believe me.  I’m glad you’ve finally found some happiness, Kakashi.”

Yamato saw Sakura headed in their direction and cleared his throat.  “It’s been nice catching up with the two of you, but I see someone I need to speak to.”  He liked the idea of Kakashi and Sakura together in the abstract sense.  However, witnessing any affection between the two of them with his own eyeballs always left Yamato feeling a little uncomfortable. It would probably take him a few years before he would be used to it.

He just knew them too well, he supposed.

Yamato headed off the far end of the celebration towards a large tree with a wide canopy.  Kankuro was waiting there, leaning against the tree as juggled wedding favors.

“Did you bring it?” Yamato asked.

Kankuro stopped juggling and reached into his pocket.  “Yeah. I took a look at the contents.  It was definitely not what I was expecting.”

Yamato began to sweat. “I’m sorry, you had to witness that. We tried to make certain none of it left the village.”

“You’re lucky that it landed with Gaara and not with the Raikage.  Gaara wants to preserve Kakashi’s reputation as much ask anyone.” He grimaced.  “That’s really bad poetry.”

Yamato opened the scroll to look at the contents.  Konoha already had a clean, unblemished copy in their archives.  He burned the scroll, destroying the last evidence of their heartbroken Rokudaime.  

“Thank you so much. Again, I’m sorry about.  Next drink is on me to help you forget.”

Kankuro snorted. “Yeah, I think I’m going to need like five.”  He held out his hand and waited as Yamato counted out the money.  “Thanks.” He clapped Yamato on the shoulder as he returned to the party.  

Yamato sighed as he took a look at his watch.  Anko’s shift at gate duty had just finished ten minutes ago.  Panther and Otter were dressed in civilian clothing and mingling with the rest of the party.  If Kakashi and Sakura did anything else ridiculous, those two agents were more than qualified to handle the fallout.

Humming to himself, Yamato left the party and walked to Anko’s home.

Six months later…

Kakashi jolted as the office door slammed open.  Turning from his chair, he noticed one of the hinges had shattered.  “Sakura!  How many doors are you planning on destroying?”  

Sakura ignored the question, waving the ANBU mask in her hand.  “I was looking in the closet for that scroll you mentioned earlier and I found this!  Is this yours? Were you Hound?”

Kakashi stared at Sakura in confusion. “Yes.  I thought you knew I was in ANBU.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know you were Hound!  I thought Hound was bald!”  Sakura huffed as she threw her hands in the air.  “Dammit, Yamato-sensei!”

*****END*****

[hunterartemis]

Accident (Avengers X Reader)

Prompt: an accident and  a secret admirer can change a whole lot of things. I wrote this ages ago, and ran out of ideas and dropped it. But for a sudden epiphany... I finished it.

I was in a completely normal situation “Four score and seven” seconds ago, where half of the S.H.I.E.L.D. staff wasn’t gawping at me like I was some weird specimen in the zoo, and my ‘self respect’ was still intact, unbroken and not scattered on the floor like right now, with shards too jagged and small even to pick it up. Why am I in this blooming disaster and how, let me try with a recap.

...

I joined SHIELD about one and a half year ago. My job was a very specific one: after the ‘other worldly’ invasions to earth, Director Fury assigned me to decipher each and every Mythological manuscript I could land my hands on. The reason: If the Norse gods are real, so are the others and by others means, there may be other dimensions, monsters and even threats that could be true. As a Symbologist and the former intern of Dr. Robert Langdon, who was involved in the Da Vinci code case, I had to do the best. Only I and I can do it in the entire enterprise.

Today, I was deciphering Greek myths. Although one of the most popular, but there are several manuscripts which were still left undiscovered. I had my doubts that there is some connection with the Norse one, so I was working early. After a nasty piece of “Myths of Hades”, I needed some chemicals for further advancement: cleaning up the manuscript without damaging the sheets. They were all engraved tablets, so the work wasn’t easy. So I walked myself into the nearest lab, where Dr. Banner was experimenting with the Tesseract, to nick a couple of chemicals, and got myself spilled with a very strong nitric acid. Everyone (science person or not) should know that HNO3 is a deadly acid which can burn holes into skin; I was lucky that it wasn’t that strong: it was medium-diluted, which was still burning holes through my office tunic and was seeping into my top... By the time I am at my room, my future lover will be horrified after he unhooks my brassiere.

No chance....

It’s a lab right? They must have a spare coat or something... I am gonna strip here, grab a coat, apologise later... nothing will happen!

Or so I thought after removing my blue lab-tunic and holey striped Parisian t-shirt and went groping for a lab coat, topless.

‘- hey Bruce do you have-’ to my horror a male voice moved into the room, and to by worst nightmare, it was Tony Stark, and he just went speechless after seeing me. A trail of high-pitched opera screech echoed through the entire building from my throat.

‘Pepper will murder me...’ he let out a depressed soliloquy and looking I don’t how to take that: platonic but with a sexual/friendly hint. ‘Honey, I am already in a relationship and don’t take it the wrong way, but getting naked like that to seduce me in my lab... phew... you have some nerves for a pawn of SHIELD-’

‘GET OUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD....’ I screamed on the top of my voice while hugging my torso as best as I can. However, female body is known to be the worst bitch at all the wrong time. By this tendency, my boobs were giving the deepest cleavage under my wrapped arms, which couldn’t have been achieved in the past by the thickest Victoria’s Secret Bombshell bras when I wanted it to happen.

‘Hey Tony I thought you were looking for me... HOLY WHAT THE-’ Doctor Banner did a ‘360 degree spin on one foot’ after seeing me, ‘Tony... What the hell did you actually do this time? Got-got some intern to do some silly stuff?’ he asked Mr. Stark.

‘I am glad you asked that...’ Tony said ‘because I was about you ask how the hell this’ he hand gestured ‘situation happened here. I thought this was our lab, and I will be glad if you would oblige and not leave the door unlocked, so that random people can come in here and strip-’

‘I AM RIGHT HERE ASSHOLE! GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE’ it was sounding like some chorus of an angsty rock band going through puberty.

‘Stark what is going... O-whoa!’ Steve Rogers just went speechless: great... just great. I am now topless, and Captain’s brain function went all star-spangled... I will just stand here, and anytime now, Coulson will pop out of nowhere and murder me. Because I just defiled his ’90 year old virgin superhero idol’... oh, don’t look at me like that, everyone knows that captain never got laid, except in the ice, for 70 years.

When Captain finally looked furiously at Dr. Banner, he said ‘I didn’t do anything I just found Tony with-’

‘Is everything a joke to you Stark... ? First Ultron, the peace summit and now-’ he just covered his eyes, ‘Miss... whoever you are, would you-’ he desperately tried to look away respectfully “would you like a top, towel, anything-”

‘With all due respect Captain... I WOULD VERY MUCH APPRECIATE IF YOU ALL TO LEAVE. THE. ROOM.’

‘Jarvis... ’ Tony called, ‘shut down the cameras in the lab and erase every memory of this room for past 20 minutes’ He was awkwardly walking away leading a very red Dr. Banner, ‘see Rogers, I am not a total douchebag like you think I am... and’ then the obvious happened.

‘And what Stark?’ another grumpy male voice blared from the door “are you trying to blackmail miss (l/n) again... why the cameras shut d-” Director Fury entered with Maria Hill, Black Widow and Hawkeye.

And Barton’s sunglasses titled seductively after he saw me.

Hawkward silence.

Miss Romanov was to react first; she took few steps back, clasped the eyes of Clint Barton and Bruce Banner and led them away; with the latter, she was actually doing a favour to him: by his looks he hasn’t got laid in fifteen years (typical Banner! I am judging you). Maria Hill came to fish out Tony Stark and a very flustered Steve Rogers.

“Come along Captain, I will buy you a hot chocolate” and gestured Director Fury out and looking at me Director Hill gave an assuring nod.

Banner in the meanwhile mumbled “second top shelf from the right” under Miss Romanov’s arms, it seemed it was addressed to me.

...

Finally when I was properly dressed and made it to the hellicarrier, I noticed something utterly different. A humming noise of gossip was spreading through the space and as soon as I entered they all went silent. Great... now I feel like Kim Kardashian, but a lot ashamed.

I gave my reports to Nick Fury who was averting my gaze as far as possible, and then finally he spoke.

‘I am sorry kid, I have erased all the footage of the incident, and should anyone ever teases you with that let me know and I will show that stupid son of a bitch a living hell... Stop right there Stark!’

The last sentence wasn’t obviously directed to me, as I sharply turned around, I saw Tony Stark haulting stop with the booming voice of the director.

‘Actually Director Fury, I was looking for _, you see some of us are worse in communication than you may ever know.’ He added and came to me and gave me a note.

‘Take this and thank me later....’ he added a wink, and walked back.

I bid Fury goodbye and opened the note in my lab, where I was researching some Dead Sea Scrolls and Greek myths.

‘I am so sorry for this morning. I wanted to talk to you for a really long time, but with all that happening I couldn’t. I am not a pervert I swear, but the timing is too wrong... anyway, can I ask you for a cup of coffee? I want to apologise properly for what happened in the morning. Tony said this was a good idea. I swear this won’t ever cross my lips again, but after I saw you this morning I can’t stop thinking about you--’

‘Get to the point already...’ seriously, it was so cliché and cheesy to send a love note these days, but the rambling was so sweet that I can’t even complain .

‘So... if you are ready, I will be waiting at the lounge, 6 o clock sharp... gosh, you are so beautiful when you blush!

-Bruce.’

‘Damnnit...’ I whispered, smiling to myself. I was ready to smack him in the face. But he was just a pure cinnamon roll.

[iamartemisday]

Jane Foster Week Day One: Space

A/N: Oh boy have I been looking forward to this so much for the last month and a half. :D I can’t believe the time has finally come, but here we are.

This first ficlet is a continuation to a drabble I wrote several years ago. It can be read here. The idea was that Jane accidentally sent herself to Jotunheim, where Loki has taken over and become king. This is what happens after he finds Jane and takes her back with him.

Hope you enjoy!

.01 Space

Jane woke up on a plushy mattress an indeterminable amount of time after blasting herself to an alien planet and being captured by the king. She was almost convinced it had been a dream when she heard the crackling fire (her lab did not have a fireplace) and remembered her bed was a secondhand cot in a dingy trailer. She opened her eyes and took in deep green sheets on a bed the size of a football field.

The room was even bigger and filled with ancient Norwegian artifacts, from the wall carvings to the decorative wooden shields. It was like one of those historical recreations they kept in museums. Except Jane doubted those phony beds stuffed with straw would ever be so comfortable as this.

The color scheme was decidedly green, with a little black and gold thrown in for good measure. Jane glanced down at herself and sighed with relief that she was still dressed. There had been no ‘bathe her and bring her to me’ nonsense. At least, not yet.

She was alone as far as she could tell. In a room this big, there was no way to be sure. The fire brightened as if aware she was awake and needed more light.  It provided more than any fire should be capable of. She’d have to ask someone about that, she thought dimly, assuming this apparent hospitality wasn’t a ploy to bring her guard down. Devouring your prey was easy if they didn’t struggle.

Jane scooted to the edge of the bed. Her shoes were placed neatly next to an ornate armchair. Her jacket was folded and draped over the top. She left them for now, the floor carpeted and the room a pleasant temperature. Her first steps were uneven but quickly improved. Two chairs were positioned directly in front of the fireplace for maximum warmth, an oval-shaped table between them. She studied a dish sitting precariously on the latter, covered by a silver dome with dragon-shaped carvings around the rim. Jane was a scientific mind who prided herself in her critical thinking and problem-solving abilities, but it was at least a full minute before she realized the plate was meant for her.

She lifted the dome, fully expecting breakfast to be a bowl of mush or something not completely dead. The buttermilk biscuits with cream cheese and side fruit bowl, therefore, gave her pause. Jane picked nervously at what appeared to be an ordinary blueberry. It tasted like one too, once she mustered up the courage to eat it.

The door opened, apparently unlocked from the start. In walked the man from yesterday, the one the bigger monsters seemed to defer to. He did have a regal air about him, partial nudity notwithstanding. His red eyes followed her as she sank into a chair. A berry fell between her fingers and rolled under the bed.

“Good morning,” he said. He had a British sounding accent though Jane was pretty sure he’d never set foot in that country.

“Good morning,” Jane answered. “Um… I was just…”

“You may eat,” he said, assuming that was the reason behind her discomfort. He took the chair opposite her, steepling his fingers as she hesitantly took a biscuit and brought it to her lips. A mouth-watering aroma wafted straight into her nostrils, turning Jane’s fear to desire. She polished off the whole thing in two bites and immediately reached for another. “I take it you are satisfied with your accommodations?”

“What?” Jane asked with her mouth full. She swallowed and brushed some crumbs off her lip. “Oh yeah. It’s great. Um… I wasn’t expecting to have my own room.”

“Yes, unfortunately, the dungeons are currently full. You’ll have to make due until the mid-afternoon executions.”

Jane’s heart stopped.

He grinned. “That was a joke.”

If she wasn’t so sure he could kill her just by thinking about it, she’d slap him. “Oh, okay. Um… may I ask a question?”

“You just did,” he said, which was annoying and pedantic, but it wasn’t a no.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Jane played with a rip in her shirt that wasn’t there before. She must have snagged it on something during the transport. “I’m technically an intruder, even though I didn’t mean to be. You could’ve locked me up for real or…”

He gave a thoughtful hum, then leaned back and crossed one leg over the other. He had ridiculously long legs and kind of amazing abs. “That is the question.”

What was that supposed to mean?

“It is true, in most situations, I would assume you a spy and have you killed on sight. And that is not a joke.” He added that last part when Jane nearly laughed out loud. “However, given the length of time since any of the nine realms have visited Midgard, I doubt you are more than a displaced traveller. That you arrived on Jotunheim of all places is an extraordinary case of bad luck, is it not?”

“I don’t know,” Jane answered honestly. She was sitting in a room more gorgeous than anything she ever thought she’d see in her lifetime with an alien king. “Is it?”

He pursed his lips, then got to his feet. With a wave of his hand, the flames died down. New artificial light took its place. It came from every direction, shining a golden hue on the walls. Jane stared at the multiple orbs in awe. None of them resembled light bulbs or flames. There was no point of origin. They’d just sprung into existence like magic.

“Your people call it electricity, I believe,” he said. “The method of lighting a room without fire… quite primitive if you don’t mind me saying.”

Jane would’ve been affronted and happy to defend her races innovations over the course of a few thousand years, but then again, there was a scientific impossibility happening before her eyes. The wheels in her head turned hard enough to break. “It’s amazing.”

His mouth twitched. “I have a proposition for you, little one.”

Jane blinked. “What kind of proposition?”

“That depends,” he paced before the fire, his long hair swaying behind him. “Do you wish to return to your homeworld at once or would you like to stay a while?”

“Wait, are you saying you could send me home?” Jane shot to her feet. “Like right now?”

“If you wish,” he said almost bitterly. “There are few corners of the galaxy I cannot find. Though before you make a decision, consider this: there is a vast universe out there your people have barely touched, is there not?”

“We’ve been to the moon,” Jane said lamely. “And there are probes as far as Pluto.”

He smiled the way a person usually reserved for a child’s macaroni art. “But my dear, you’ve been given a unique opportunity to see more. All you have to do is say the word.”

The curtains took on a life of their own, sliding aside in perfect synchronicity. They’d blended so well into the rest of the wall, Jane had assumed there were no windows. She was wrong. Without covers, there was almost nothing but windows. Jane beheld the skyline of an ice blue city, teeming with skyscrapers reaching for the stars. Speaking of stars, there were hundreds, if not thousands, twinkling like tiny jewels in the sky. Within seconds, Jane had mapped out five different constellations she had never seen before, and every which way she looked there were more. So many it made her head hurt and her heart soar.

“This… this is…”

She pressed her hands on the glass. When had she moved? She was by the fire a second ago. Now the heat of the flames barely touched her, but she had never felt warmer.

“This is merely a taste of what I can show you, little one,” he said, his lips a hair’s breath from her ear. “Say the word and I will give you the universe.”

Jane swallowed and nodded, her trance broken by the weight of one pressing matter. “But why me? You don’t even know me.”

He took her hand in his. He was wearing gloves for some reason. “I know you’ve accomplished something no one on your planet should be capable of. Not even Jotunheim has managed to create a bridge between worlds. You have achieved on your own what took the Aesir centuries.”

“I wasn’t completely alone,” Jane said hoarsely. The intensity of his gaze silenced any further attempts at modesty.

“The fact remains, little one, you are the most fascinating creature I have come across in all my years.”

How many years was that she wondered. He appeared close to her age, but his eyes were ancient. He could be well over a thousand years old for all she knew and if that were the case… either he was an excellent liar or Jane had just been given one hell of a compliment.

“Okay,” she said, breathing deeply. “First of all, if I’m going to stay a while, you have to stop calling me ‘little one’. My name is Jane Foster.”

Never did she think she’d see such honest to God joy in his eyes, though he covered it up nicely with a smirk. “As you wish, Jane Foster.”

The way he said her name was almost sinful. It shook Jane at her core and she was forced to acknowledge that in spite of (or perhaps because of) his alien features, he was incredibly handsome. “A-and, I need to let my friends know I’m okay. I can’t let them think I’m dead.”

“Very well,” he said. “We can send word to them whenever you wish. Now then, shall I escort you to the observatory?”

“You have an observatory?”

He chuckled. “Jotunheim has come a long way since I took over. Soon our cities and innovations will rival Asgard itself.”

They left the room, the door shutting and locking on its own behind them. Jane would have to ask her new friend about that later. They passed dozens of Jotunn servants and soldiers on their way to the top floor. All of them bowed before their king. None of them frightened Jane anymore as long as she kept close to him.

“Oh, where are my manners,” he said as they reached a glass elevator (they had elevators here). He took her hand and kissed the air over it. “You may call me Loki, son of Frigga, King of Jotunheim.”

“I think I’ll go with just Loki if that’s okay,” Jane said. The elevator arrived and he stepped back to allow her first entry. They were halfway to the top and looking out at the snowy fields beyond the city when it hit her. “I’m sorry, Loki? Like Loki Loki? Like… that… are you-”

“Save your questions, Jane Foster,” he smiled serenely, his red eyes no longer like blood to her. More like rubies. “We have all the time in the world.”

[teachingoutsidethebinary]

The D Word (Part 2)

Summary: Tony Stark means the world to Peter Parker. So much, in fact, that Peter slips up and calls him 'dad' on more than one occasion. In other words, the two times Peter prays Tony doesn't hear him say 'dad' and the one time he wishes he did.

Characters: Tony Stark, Peter Parker, Aunt May, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Warnings: none really

A/N: Hope you like this next part!

The D Word (Part 1)

Peter walked through the cemetery completely numb. He had no idea where he was going, but his feet kept propelling him forward. He scanned each cold, grey headstone, trying to make sense of the dull carvings.

A whimper stopped him in his tracks. Peter whirled around, trying to find its source. His eyes finally landed on a small boy standing in front of two headstones. The boy was dressed in a suit that was slightly too big, and his hands wiped angrily at his face. Peter walked over and knelt down next to the boy.

“You okay?” Peter asked, his voice cracking. Tears rolled down his own face, but he wasn’t exactly sure why he was crying.

The boy shook his head, but Peter still couldn’t see his face.

“Where are your parents?”

The boy pointed to the headstone, and Peter gasped.

Here lies Richard and Mary Parker

Beloved father and mother, husband and wife.

When the boy pointed to the second headstone, Peter was sure he was going to faint.

Here lies Tony Stark.

Peter couldn’t read anything after the first line. He collapsed to the ground, trying to blink away the black dots swarming in front of his eyes.

“Wh-wh-what?” he stuttered. “What is this?”

The boy turned and Peter was face-to-face with himself. The same wavy brown hair, the same long, awkward limbs, all of it was the same. Except his face. Little Peter’s face was completely blank, with small, puckered slits where the eyes, nose, and mouth should have been.

Peter screamed and stumbled backwards, trying to escape the child. It had to be a trick, it had to be a mind game.

“Peter…” A disembodied voice seemed to come out of Little Peter’s face. He held out an arm to Peter and stepped closer.

“Go away!” Peter exclaimed, falling over the cement path. Gnarled tree roots seemed to appear out of nowhere to trip Peter as he tried to escape.

“Peter…”

“Stop it!” he begged. “Please just stop!” He covered his face with his arms and cowered down as he prepared for the worst.

“Peter…Peter…”

“Peter!”

Peter jolted up from the couch he was sleeping on, panting heavily. His heart thumped wildly as it got harder and harder to breathe. He shook as a pair of soft hands cupped his face and turned him to the right. Aunt May stared back at him, her brown eyes full of concern.

“M-M-May?”

May nodded. She carefully reached out a hand and ran her fingers through Peter’s hair, just like she used to do when he was little. His resolve crumbled as he practically jumped into her lap, wrapping his arms around her in a vice-like grip.

“Shhh, baby, I’ve got you,” May whispered. “I’ve got you.” She cradled him in her arms as he sobbed.

“T-Tony...he’s, he’s…” Peter tried to form a complete sentence, but the words kept getting caught in his throat.

May pulled back and looked into his eyes. “Tony’s gonna be okay. Look.” She nodded her head to the side, and Peter followed her gaze.

Tony was lying in a hospital bed, with a thin sheet covering his lower body. Bruises covered his face, and their dark color contrasted the stark white gauze wrapped around his chest. Peter heard a faint beeping noise and realized a heart monitor was connected to his unconscious mentor.

“He’s alive?” Peter whispered, afraid to let himself be set up with false hope. “Really alive?”

May nodded and began to explain. “One of the people who came to get me, Barnes maybe? He said they were able to get him to some machine in time. He’s going to be fine. Everything’s going to be fine.”

Peter’s arms gave out and he clumsily laid back down on the couch. May somehow made a pillow appear and rested the soft material on her lap so it was resting under Peter’s head. She continued to play with his hair as he tried to truly comprehend that Tony was okay. Soon, his breathing evened out, and he turned to look up at his aunt, who was gazing down at him.

“You’re mad,” he said, swallowing thickly.

“Furious,” she replied immediately. “But we’ll talk about that later.” Peter sighed, relieved he wasn’t going to have to deal with May’s wrath right away.

“Can I ask you something?” Peter nodded. “Captain Rogers...god I can't believe I can say I know him." She shook her head. "Anyway, he said he had to sedate you. That you were screaming and saying some things…” She trailed off, and Peter knew that she knew exactly what had happened in the jet.

He slowly sat up and couldn’t meet May’s eye anymore.

“Wanna talk about it?” she asked.

“No,” he replied softly.

“Then I’ll talk,” she said. She took a deep breath, and her eyes shone with tears. “You’ve lost way more people in your life than any kid should ever have to deal with. No one will ever replace your uncle. Or your mother. Or your father. No one.” She cleared her throat as she calmed her own emotions down.

Peter clenched his jaw and gripped the edge of the couch tightly. He knew she was right, and that he was stupid for thinking of Tony like that. Like…

“But,” May continued, “you are so lucky to have some great people in your life. People who are like fathers.” Peter turned his head. “Honey, it’s okay. What you said was okay.” She reached out and covered one of his hands with her own.

Peter’s breath came out in short spurts as his face heated up. Before he could stop it, a fresh batch of tears fell down his cheeks. He kept nodding his head as he tried to process everything. He was just tired, so, so tired.

The consistent beeping from the heart monitor suddenly spiked with rapid beeps. Peter and May looked over and saw Tony stir under the sheet. His eyes fluttered open and a shaky hand gripped the handrail of the hospital bed.

He groaned and tried to sit up.

“Tony!” Peter cried, standing up. “You’re awake!”

Tony’s gaze finally landed on the relieved teen. “Hey kid,” he coughed.

Peter thought his heart might burst at the sound of Tony’s voice. “I’ll go get someone!” he rambled. “I should get someone, right? Or do you want water? Water would help your voice. Not that it sounds bad! It’s just...I mean...I’ll-”

“I’ll get someone,” May cut in. She smirked at Peter. “You stay here.”

Tony gave May a weak grin. “Oh, I’m definitely dead,” he joked. “Only heaven would have a beautiful angel like you here.”

“Cut the crap, Stark,” May shot back, pointing a finger at him. “I’m glad you’re not dead because now I can kill you myself.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What the hell were you thinking?! Bringing him on a mission?!”

Tony coughed and winced as pain shot through his chest. “Okay, first of all,” he replied, “I just got shot in the chest. Can we maybe do this later?”

May’s eyes softened, but not by much. “We are going to talk about this,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

“Maybe over dinner?” Tony asked, a familiar twinkle returning to his eyes. “I know a great place in Little Italy. Fantastic wine pairings.”

May merely scoffed and shook her head as she walked out of the room, leaving Tony and Peter alone.

Peter tipped back and forth on the balls of his feet. He weaved his hands together, trying to find a purpose for them. He held them behind his neck, around his shoulders, and even on his waist.

Tony’s rolled his eyes. “Kid, I can feel your antsiness from here. Relax a bit, would ya? Have a seat. Not like I’m dying or anything.”

“S-sorry,” Peter replied, sitting down on his hands. An odd silence filled the room as each one tried to figure out what to say to each other.

“She’s right, you know,” Tony finally said. “You shouldn’t have been there. I shouldn’t have let you come.”

“S’not your fault,” Peter mumbled. “I wanted to help.”

Tony sighed. “Maybe, but you’re young. You didn’t need to see all of…” He trailed off and waved his arm over his bandaged chest. “I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

Silence fell once more. Peter swallowed a few times, trying to get the courage to ask a question that had been bothering him since he had woken up.

“Can...can I ask you something?” he whispered quietly. “Why did you say that you were sorry?”

Tony’s head fell back against the pillows as he contemplated his answer.

“My dad was never around,” he started. “And he was a bit of an asshole. I know Cap has different feelings, but, in all fairness, he was a popsicle when my father raised me.” He cleared his throat and blinked a few times at the ceiling. “And,” he continued, “when I met you, I thought this was my chance to make up for all the ways he screwed up. A chance to really be there for you.”

Tony took a deep breath and frowned. “And I messed up. If I had been there for you the way I wanted my father to be there for me, you would have never been on that jet. I should have known the risks and that our intel could have been faulty. Instead, it went to hell and you got the brunt of it. I-”

“I called you ‘dad’!” Peter blurted out, unable to keep his secret any longer. His cheeks flushed, and he focused his gaze on the ground. Tony had no clue how to respond, so Peter kept talking. “When you passed out on the jet...I didn’t want to lose you. I...I was scared I was going to lose you.” His voice hushed to a whisper as he dared to look up at Tony.

To say Tony was shocked was an understatement. He tossed sentences around in his brain, but none of them seemed right for this situation. Peter looked so vulnerable sitting there on the couch, and his eyes were filled with fear at what Tony would say.

“L-listen, kid,” Tony began. “It w-was an...intense situation. We, uh, say things like that when...we’re, uh stressed.”

Peter shook his head. “N-N-No, you don’t g-get it,” Peter stuttered. “I, um...well I...it’s just that I…I’ve done it before.” He paused and took a deep breath. “And I meant it,” he said strongly. “And...And I liked that I meant it.” He sniffed and rubbed his face against his shirt sleeve. He scrunched his eyes and waited for rejection to come.

Tony's heart filled with an indescribable joy. He had always seen himself as a screw up. He knew he was selfish. He did take after his father after all. He never expected in a million years for Peter to feel something like this for him. Maybe he wasn't doing it all wrong. Maybe...

“Peter,” Tony said softly. “Look at me please.”

Peter slowly lifted his gaze and met Tony’s. The man he saw as a father looked back at him, his eyes warm and kind.

“I liked that you meant it too.”

TAGS: @buckyappreciationsociety @iamwarrenspeace @theassetseyeliner @yknott81 @4theluvofall@sammnipple @snapplejuice @fuckkoffcourtney @capttainamericaa @wificrazymisfit @ninetales144 @series-obsessed @coffeekeyboardsss @chemicallyginge

[captain-zajjy]

Solstice, Chapter 20 - 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 19

A/N: 20 chapters! 60k words! Thanks for sticking with me, fam :D

We are EXINERIS.

Valeria looked up at the large billboard lit up by a trio of spotlights in the darkness, and recalled her mother’s derisive laughter every time the advertisement used to play on the radio. “Unless you’re a man,” her mother would say with a sneer.

She clung to that memory now, trying to settle the fluttering nerves in her stomach. She wondered if this was what it was like to have a job interview - and thought it was little surprise that her classmates who didn’t have a career lined up (courtesy of nepotism) after they graduated had been so frantic and stressed. Everyone’s counting on you, she reminded herself. No pressure.

The city of Lestallum was built in tiers, and the power plant and EXINERIS building stood at the top. People called it the ‘Ivory Tower,’ and Valeria could see why. The EXINERIS building was sleek white concrete, reminiscent of Insomnia’s modern skyscrapers, towering over the quaint, stone structures below. Unlike seemingly everything else in Lestallum, it didn’t appear to be coated in a thick layer of grime.

Valeria approached the guard blocking the narrow path to the building, a man so burly he might’ve given Gladiolus Amicitia a run for his money. So, she thought as the man scowled down at her, they do allow men to work here, at least as their goons.

“Leave your complaints at the central office in the town square,” the man said in a tired, well-rehearsed monotone.

“I’m not here to complain,” Valeria replied. “I’m here to meet with the company President.”

The man arched a bushy eyebrow at that. “Do you have an appointment?”

An appointment? Was that something people still cared about? “No,” Valeria admitted. “But it’s important.” She motioned at the man’s earpiece. “Tell her it’s Vivienne Soleil’s daughter. She’ll want to meet with me.” At least to laugh at how far I’ve fallen.

“That name supposed to mean something to me?”

“No,” Valeria said. “But it will to her. Go on. Please.” She looked up at the guard through her lashes, giving him her best doe eyes, and he finally relented with a scowl, turning away to mutter something into his earpiece. He looked more than a little surprised when the reply came and he moved aside, motioning for her to go ahead.

As she made her way across the narrow bridge that led to the building, Valeria peered over the edge, marveling at such a close view of the Disc, its jagged, crystalline spires glowing soft blue in the darkness. She could feel its heat, its power, emanating from below, even if she didn’t understand how it worked.

A young woman, dressed in heels and a skirt, met Valeria at the door to escort her to the President’s office. Valeria couldn’t help but gape as they walked; it was as if she’d entered a doorway to another time, a time six months ago, before everything had gone wrong. The hallways were devoid of squatters and loitering refugees, the tiled floors clean and polished. She was acutely aware of the sound of her footsteps echoing in the sudden, overwhelming silence. Her companion made no attempt at small talk as they rode the elevator to the highest floor, only uttering a terse “you can go in” when they reached to President’s office.

“Soleil.” Silvia Fontaine had been the president of EXINERIS for as long as Valeria could remember. She was of a similar age to Valeria’s mother, and attractive in a harsh, masculine way, her short, auburn hair neatly parted to the side and slicked close to her head.

“It’s Valerie, right?”

“Valeria,” she corrected, taking a seat opposite the woman at the broad, mahogany desk. We both know damn well you know my name.

“Valeria Soleil,” Silvia said, eyeing Valeria in such a way that she felt akin to a specimen under the microscope. She knew she was woefully under-dressed - it wasn’t as if Valeria had a wardrobe full of clothing options to choose from - but she told herself she shouldn’t be embarrassed. They were the ones who should be embarrassed - people were starving, dying out there and EXINERIS was up here operating as if nothing had changed.

“You know, it took me a minute. ‘Soleil.’” Silvia gave a haughty laugh. “I always thought it was strange that Vivienne took her husband’s name.”

She was ashamed of her family, Valeria thought. Aloud, she said, “It was fitting, given her profession.”

“And she’s sending her daughter to...do what, exactly?”

“She...” Valeria opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed hard. “My mother’s dead.”

Something almost like disappointment passed over Silvia’s sharp features, but she quickly schooled them back to neutrality.

“Ah. My condolences. But, my question still stands.”

“I’d like a job.” If her mother had a grave, she would have been rolling in it.

Silvia barked a laugh that was anything but cheerful. “So you can run me out of Leide using my own research?”

“No.” Valeria shook her head. “I’m not here for your trade secrets. Royal Energy doesn’t even exist anymore. It’s obvious you’ve got your hands full, and I think, given my particular skillset-”

Silvia cut her off. “You know how to run a city full of refugees?”

Valeria looked the older woman in the eye. “I know about as much as you.”

Silvia held her gaze for a long moment before giving her a small, approving smile. “You don’t look much like her, but there’s no doubt you’re Vivienne’s daughter.” When Valeria didn’t respond, she added, “That’s a compliment.”

“Thanks,” Valeria said, unsure if she should be flattered or concerned. Her mother had certainly possessed plenty of positive qualities, but there were things about her that Valeria wanted nothing to do with - in particular, her uncanny ability to make someone feel impossibly small, to make their best efforts seem laughably insignificant.

“So tell me, Valeria Soleil. In your expertise, what can I do to make Lestallum a better place?”

Hardly a question with a simple answer, but Valeria knew this was meant to be a test more than a genuine solicitation for advice. She considered her words carefully before speaking.

“To start with the basics: food. Gather the city’s resources and supplies, and start rationing now, before people start starving.” Valeria hated to admit that the inspiration for that suggestion had come from the Empire. But when it came to keeping a dejected, frightened populace in check, the Niffs absolutely knew what they were doing.

“And what do I tell the merchants when I take their supplies? That it’s for the greater good?”

“Well...yes,” Valeria replied. “They aren’t going to like it, but it’s better than letting people starve to death.”

“And when this blows over? Then what do I say? ‘Sorry your business is ruined?’”

Valeria frowned. “‘Blows over?’ Do you really think this is just going to go away, like a bad winter or something? Prince - no, King Noctis is the only one who can bring back the light, and he’s...he’s somewhere far away.”

Silvia rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me you actually believe all that mystical mumbo-jumbo. ‘The Chosen King.’” She clucked her tongue. “A smart girl like you should know better than to subscribe to such nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense. It’s-”

“It’s a story concocted by the Crownsguard to disguise their obvious failure.”

Valeria wanted to slap her, but she kept her hands folded in her lap and bit her tongue. Ignis isn’t a liar, she thought. And he’s not a failure, either.

“This,” Silvia gestured at the dark window behind Valeria’s back, “is obviously some sort of atmospheric phenomenon, that will either pass, or be solved by science - not bedtime stories.”

“That doesn’t mean the sun is coming back anytime soon. You have to plan for what you know.” Valeria jabbed her index finger onto the desktop. “And what we know is that people have to eat. They have to have a safe place to live. I know it’s not fair to ask people to give up their businesses so that foreign refugees don’t starve, but then, nothing about this situation is fair.”

Silvia leaned forward on the desk, her chin resting on her steepled fingers, scrutinizing Valeria with the sort of critical gaze that was painfully reminiscent of her mother. After what felt like an eternity, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms.

“Very well. You’d like a job? Go and convince these people to contribute to ‘the greater good.’”

Valeria’s mouth fell open, and she quickly clamped it shut. That was certainly cutting to the chase...and certainly not the sort of job she had expected to be assigned straight away. She thinks I’ll fail. It was a test - an impossible test.

“Fine.” Valeria rose, swelling with determination at the challenge. “I’ll be back when it’s done.” I’ll show you just how much like my mother I can be.

“Well,” Valeria announced as she opened the door to Ignis’s apartment. “They gave me a job.”

Ignis paused his (careful) chopping of vegetables for their lunch and turned toward her, a smile beaming on his face. “Splendid news! I knew you could convince them.”

Valeria felt herself blushing as she hung up her coat. “Thanks, Iggy.”

“And what is it that you’ll be doing?” Valeria was relieved that he didn’t resume wielding his paring knife while trying to carry on a conversation.

“Only convincing all the merchants in Lestallum to hand over all their foodstuffs so the city can start rationing. Only that.”

Ignis chuckled, but then frowned when she didn’t join him. “You’re not joking.”

“No,” Valeria replied, flopping down on the couch.

“But that’s-”

“Impossible? I know. She’s testing me.”

Ignis cocked his head, then shook it. “Ah, my delightfully stubborn friend. You never could resist a challenge.”

“Nope,” Valeria agreed, stretching her legs.

“Gladio and I are going to make a short trip to Galdin in a few days, but I can assist you when I return.”

Valeria’s smile faltered. “Galdin...Galdin Quay? You’re leaving ?” She didn’t even realize she’d leaped to her feet, that her hands were balled into fists.

Ignis sighed, rinsed his hands in the sink and wiped them dry with his handkerchief. “We’re going to try to establish a supply line with the fishermen there. We won’t be long.”

Valeria felt herself shaking, shaking all over.He’s going to leave, he’s going to die, he won’t come back...

“You’re going to leave me?” Her voice had gone shrill, bird-like.

Ignis held up his hands. “It’s just for a few days. Three at most. Val, I truly am sorry. But, it’s like you say - people need food. People need our help.”

“What people? People like that man in the market, who treat you like shit just because of how you talk?” She knew she had been espousing this exact same belief less than an hour ago at the EXINERIS offices, but this was...it was different. He was going outside.

Ignis shook his head, crossing the small space between the kitchen and where she stood. “They’re just frightened. It makes them-”

“Assholes,” Valeria interjected. “It makes them selfish, self-serving assholes who would leave you to die to save their own skins.” I would know.

“I...” Ignis swallowed. “Nevertheless, it is my duty to help them.”

“Ignis.” All the anger drained from her voice, replaced by gentle certainty. She knew what this was really about. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone.” Please.

Ignis’s brow furrowed as he tried to work out a counter-argument, eventually hanging his head. “What good am I to the King if I can’t even partake in a simple supply run?”

“Dammit, Iggy,” Valeria said. “I’m not saying you can’t. I just...I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to be alone again.”

“You won’t.” Ignis put his hands on her shoulders. “You can stay with Iris Amicitia until I return. And I will return. I’ve only just found you, Val.” He squeezed her arms. “I’m not going to let you go.”

Valeria hung her head, looking down at his hand, his thumb just inches away from the place where the Niffs had shot her. “Iggy, you said you haven’t been out there since... You don’t know what it’s like.”

“Then tell me,” he implored.

Valeria’s breath hitched. She heard screaming, pleading, inhuman screeching, her pulse pounding in her ears as she ran, and all around her was the darkness - cold, stifling, merciless. “I can’t,” she whispered. I can’t go back there.

“Valeria...”

“Please, Iggy.” No matter what she may have thought of it in the past, she had never asked him not to do his job - or what he perceived as his job - before now. “If you go out there, you...you’ll die.”

“It’s a supply run, Val. Not a battle. The Marshal would never allow it if he thought there was a real chance of danger.”

What could she say to change his mind? Nothing, she realized. He’s not yours. He was never yours. And no matter how drastically the world changed, that one, hard fact remained constant. He’s not yours.

It was with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience that Ignis climbed into the cramped cab of Gladio’s truck and embarked for Galdin Quay. After it became clear that she wasn’t going to talk him out of it, Valeria had barely spoken to him; he wondered if she realized the silent treatment was doubly punishing to a blind man.

This morning, before they left, she pressed a hefty, dented flashlight into his hands, with the cryptic explanation that it had saved her life more than once. Of course, they were well stocked with lights and lanterns, bulbs and batteries, but Ignis took it anyway, more as a good luck charm than anything else.

He unbuttoned his suit jacket, making a futile attempt at getting comfortable while smashed against the passenger side door, and ran a fingertip over his uncle’s cuff-links at the end of his sleeves. The Tenebraen floral motif worked into the silver was far too intricate and delicate to make out by touch alone, but he remembered them clearly - his uncle had worn them daily for as long as Ignis could remember. They’d always afforded him a certain class, an elegance, that Ignis hoped to emulate during the negotiations. And wearing them now was a small tribute to the man who had raised him, to the family and country he had barely known.

The truck Gladiolus had ‘acquired’ (Ignis didn’t press him on the matter) could have sat a man, woman, and small child semi-comfortably along the bench seat; three grown men was confining, to say the least. Prompto sat between Ignis and Gladiolus, and every time he moved he jabbed a sharp elbow into one or both of their sides (and given the fact that Prompto couldn’t sit still for more than thirty seconds, it meant Ignis was getting elbowed quite frequently).

The lack of space, and the way the truck jumped and shook with every crack in the road, the way they had to raise their voices to talk over the sputtering engine, made Ignis nostalgic for the smooth ride and luxurious comfort of the Regalia. Rest in peace, old girl. You served us well.

Gladiolus slowly weaved through the refugees crowded just outside the city gates, and Ignis could feel Prompto’s discomfort, his dismay at the knowledge that the majority of these people were of Niflheim extraction.

“So,” Ignis said, trying to keep Prompto’s mind off the unpleasant subject. “Are you all set to assist Wiz at the Chocobo Post?”

Prompto wasn’t going with them all the way to Galdin Quay; they were going to drop him off at the Chocobo Post en route. Wiz had contacted the hunters for help keeping his birds safe from predators - he had plenty of lights to deter the daemons, but as the monsters systematically killed off everything in the surrounding forests, hungry predators were forced to range closer and closer to the Chocobo Post in search of food. And knowing Prompto’s particular fondness for the creatures, it seemed the perfect task for him to take the lead.

“Yup,” Prompto replied. “I wrote down everything you said to do so I won’t forget.”

Ignis frowned. “Those were merely suggestions, Prompto. This is your mission. You don’t have to follow what I said to the letter.”

“Yeah but....you’re smart,” Prompto replied. “You know everything.”

And you need to learn how to lead, Ignis thought. He was far more capable than he gave himself credit for.

“You think Cindy likes chocobos?” Prompto asked.

This again, Ignis lamented. They - that is to say, Prompto - had speculated on everything from her favorite color to preferred vacation destination. And Ignis was about ninety-nine percent sure Prompto had never bothered to ask her in person about any of it.

“I think she likes cars better,” Gladio said.

“Hmm...” Prompto drummed his fingers on the dashboard. “Maybe a car dealership will need some help.”

Ignis barked out a laugh.

“What?” Prompto asked.

“If a car dealership’s overrun by daemons, they can just leave.” Gladio must have been smirking, because Prompto went on the defensive.

“Oh, it’s so easy for you two, isn’t it? You both have have girlfriends.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Gladio replied.

“No,” Prompto huffed. “You have, like, twenty. And you,” he jabbed Ignis in the shoulder. “I don’t even want to hear this ‘we’re just friends’ crap.”

“Well, we are,” Ignis replied.

“You know what she did to me? She came up to me all misty-eyed and said,” Prompto took Ignis’s arm and laid his head on his shoulder, speaking in a high, quavering voice, “‘Thank you so much for helping Iggy. I was so worried about him.’”

Ignis shrugged him off. “She most certainly did not.”

“Okay, maybe not exactly like that. But she did say that to me.” Prompto sighed. “I wish someone would worry about me like that.”

“We were all worried about you like that after you fell from the train,” Ignis replied.

“Yeah, but you’re not girls,” Prompto said.

“It is nicer coming from a chick,” Gladio added.

Ignis frowned. It didn’t feel nice at the moment, only adding to the already substantial guilt he was feeling about leaving her behind in Lestallum just days after she’d finally arrived.

“Ya know, Valeria is like, really pretty. But in a totally classy way. Totally your type,” Prompto said. “I like her.”

“Good to know she has the Prompto seal of approval,” Ignis replied dryly. Although, he’d yet to meet anyone with breasts who didn’t garner Prompto’s approval.

“Definitely,” Prompto said. “Oh, uh...not that I’m, like... I mean, you have dibs. Obviously.”

From the driver’s seat, Gladiolus snorted a laugh.

“Yes, I was terribly worried about that,” Ignis said sardonically.

“Nah, it’s cool.”

Truly oblivious, Ignis thought. But while they were on the subject... “Tell me something, Prompto. You spoke with her for a while. How does she look to you?”

“Valeria?” Prompto took a deep breath. “Well, let’s see...she has brown hair, kinda tall-”

Ignis scoffed while Gladiolus laughed again. “Prompto, I know what she looks like. What I mean is: does she look ill to you? Tired? Worried?”

“Uhh...”

Ignis realized it was a difficult question to answer for someone with no baseline. He pulled out his phone and handed it to Prompto. “I’ve some photos of her on there, from before.”

Prompto gave an awkward, shaky laugh. “They’re not like...you know, uh....pictures, like...”

When Ignis realized what he was asking, he couldn’t hide his offense. “Stars, Prompto! No.” What sort of woman do you think she is ?

“Like Iggy has that kinda stuff on his phone,” Gladiolus said sarcastically.

“Okay, okay. Just checking.” There was a pause as Prompto thumbed through the menus. “Wow, you took a lot of shots of food while we were on the road, huh?”

Ignis had snapped a photograph of anything interesting or particularly appetizing that caught his eye, in hopes of recreating the recipe later on. Fat lot of good it will do me now.

“Please try to focus on the task at hand.”

“Right, right...Okay, here’s one! So, Val likes Ebony too, huh?”

Ignis knew exactly which photograph Prompto was looking at; he could still envision it clearly in his mind. It was the last photo he’d taken with her, several weeks before he’d left the Crown City. An Ebony vending machine had just been installed downtown, the first of its kind, and so the pair of them, naturally thrilled with this new development, had posed with it - him with his arms crossed over his chest, shoulders squared like a proud father; and her on the other side, arms spread like a magician revealing her final, best trick. Ignis was fairly certain the person who had snapped the photo for them thought they were both mildly touched in the head.

“Of course she does,” Gladiolus said. “Nice picture, by the way.”

“Gladio, please keep your eyes on the road,” Ignis chided. “And yes, naturally, she likes Ebony.” The woman had good taste. “Now, back to what I asked...”

“Right, well...” Prompto paused. “I don’t know. She looks really happy here.”

So she did. Ignis remembered her smile well - a real smile, broad and showing all her teeth, not the phony, posed kind that she was all too good at conjuring up when the occasion required. He’d spent many nights on the road after Insomnia fell looking at that photo, hoping against hope that he would see that smile once more. Now, just because he couldn’t literally see it, didn’t mean his hopes were dashed. She could still be happy; perhaps even with him.

“Does she...does she not look happy now?”

“No one does.” Prompto’s voice was suddenly quiet, all the cheer sucked right out of him.

Ignis sighed, knowing that was probably true. If his suspicions were correct, if it would really be months or even years before Noctis returned with the light, could they really get along in despair for so long? He may have lacked Prompto’s talent for optimism, but he knew that, at some point, they had to stop merely surviving and start living in the now, taking whatever small pleasures where they could, when they could.

Elsewise, Ardyn and the daemons had already won.