#when will i wake up again? who knows... (7 am sharp cuz i need to work)

[anyu-blue]

~

I know a big part of it is the sleep deprivation.. again.. but I'm hella depressed.

Like overall I'm.. content? I guess? I have job. = Good. I have place to live. = Good. I have my game(s) I can play anytime I have time/want. = Good. I have appointments to try and get feeling better and keep trying and keep trying when I don't. = Good. I have Kizzy and will probably have him for at least 3 more years, if not longer. = Good. I have contingency plans in place for paying for my surgeries. = Good.

I've got a lot of good right now. And it's not that I'm ungrateful. I am EXTREMELY grateful. Considering my issues I've done extremely well. Even if some of it was on accident.

It's just.. well.. I'm tired, of course. Not sleeping well or much for days on end sucks. Especially because I could have, but people are going to keep living their lives and accidentally waking/keeping me up because they just don't think about my situation 24/7. Or even know it. Or consider it. Because life's too short for that according to, like everyone but me.

I'm sick of course. I've definitely tried the 'I'm doing great/not sick!!' mindset.. and it doesn't work.. cuz stuff HURTS. I don't have the energy to keep pretending either... And I don't think there was really a time I wasn't sick. Not in my whole life.. and It feels impossible to have any hope I'll ever not be physically sick... No matter what or how hard I try. Especially because I'm aging as all people do. Especially being forced to constantly check what I eat because if I don't I can hurt myself/make myself even more sick. Or starve, which hurts me too but is better than the alternatives. Especially being I have to rely on a healthcare system that looks down on what I can afford. Especially because what I can afford is so little. Especially because of our healthcare system being so politically charged people like me with the needs I have (even just replacing bones!!! Hello?! Our STUPID society forgets teeth are BONES and NECESSARY ones at that- but the instant you say teeth people literally don't give two shits, think you're just vain, and 100% brush you off. Even doctors.. and I have cried so hard over this stupid stuff and tried to rally and I'm STILL trying to save my own god damn life. I hate saying that's what I'm doing because I have some of that stupidity in me of thinking vanity... But I'm literally trying to save my forsaken life and be a LOT less miserable, and I feel so hopeless because only the little people who get it actually seem to want to help/be able to push aside that vanity thought and it hurts so badly to ask them to squeeze for me-- thank you if you're reading this and you've reblogged/shared my post. And I cannot thank you enough, and feel I owe you so much if you've donated... Every tiny bit helps. You and I are little people in the sense we don't exactly have $10,000+ to just throw around an have no worries about lol)

I'm.. also lonely? I guess? .. it's probably the best way to describe it. I don't like people all over me. Or really messaging constantly because moods change and People have lives.. but I miss... I want... Stress free interactions. Getting to spend time and go and do things. Not being alone all the time or missing out on everything. Time is meaningless pretty much right now in the sense I've missed all the holidays. 100%. No time spent celebrating or using the time or even seeing people. Im so much a damn adult and yet I still feel like crying whenever my siblings/cousins talk about last halloween because they had so much fun... They spent the day together in matching costumes by themselves at a park. And that's it... I was delirious from sleep deprivation when I saw them for the 5 minutes I did.. and stress because of my ex being the bastard he is to me. And work. So I couldn't join them. And it doesn't bother them in the least. It's such a happy memory for them and I am struggling to let go of the envy. They have so many days they spend together too.. remotely mostly, but they have so much fun. They wake me up alot with their calls.. and get pissed when I'm like hey guys I'm sorry but could you tone it down? I honestly stopped asking lately because they get so pissed and have even been like 'It wasn't me at all!!' even when I can quote what they said back to them and try to find anything and anyone else to blame... My little sister especially is CONSISTENTLY Telling me she has no idea what she even just said so I know it's bullshit it's not her.... And it just hurts. I try so hard. I drug myself to fall asleep almost every single workday now and I hate it. It's not good for you I feel. Says non habit forming but I just. Uck. And I have familiar, soft sound on. And I've shut my cat out. And I've consistently changed my bedding and cleaned and worn masks/covered my eyes, and done everything I can think of to try and make sure I'm going to sleep as long as possible. I don't go to bed and wake up early in the evenings to cook or spend time with them anymore because I'm trying to give myself more sleep. I don't stay up to see my sisters during the day anymore. Because I'm trying to give myself more sleep. I turn everything off (besides what I hope will help with the noise) at noon and try to lay down as soon after noon as I can every day. Anything blue gets covered or turned off. Everything has red light filters too to get rid of the blue.. but I can't seem to get more than a few jagged hours any given day unless it happens to be their early days where they take naps or I end up so exhausted I'm passed out at night when I should be awake so my shifts aren't so hard... So all that adds up to my being alone and lonely as my own damn fault. Because obviously I stopped making the efforts... The thing that hurts most about that is I was the only one making ANY effort at all to include myself in people's lives (still rings true for everyone in my own city at least- family, friends, the works).. and when I HAD to stop and told them why and asked if they'd be willing to meet me sometimes when it was hard for them (even like once a month fully planned out if need be, or spontaneous because I'm NOT picky)... I got yesses. I did. But. Do you think it ever once happened besides the very day we talked about it?

No.

I can and have gone through every single message and note I have (my memory isn't what it was after I got as sick as I did last fall so I try to keep track of everything instead of relying on my memory anymore)... The only person who even slightly tried was only doing so because he wanted every gd opportunity to beg me to sleep with him (pretty much- he wasn't subtle).. and I had to cut him out because he's not a good person in his own right, sadly. Which left me entirely alone in many ways. Which leaves me entirely alone unless I reach out first and sacrifice sleep.

The continuance of this unfortunately has contributed to my depression.. and the fact no one wants to be around cuz I'm a bummer. And the sleep issues have caused irritability I try so hard to control, but at certain stages I just lose my filters and don't want to say stuff or ramble but I also don't want to miss the opportunity with the person (usually one of my sisters) so stuff gets awkward and they don't like being around THAT. And I don't blame them. But I'd do?

Ugh... I know night shift is my fault... And is a major part of the problem... But I work it to avoid People who don't care about me and mine. To keep myself safe. To keep myself from having panic attacks. I'm doing a lot better with them... But I was breaking down so often at or about work it was getting out of hand... With night shift I'm not overwhelmed like that and I don't have to worry do much about my poor mind losing its sharpness as much. I can take my time more or less. And I get paid enough to survive. ....

I'm just depressed and I know it's on me but I wish I had more help than I do..

Wishing is also the problem. Instead of being happy with what I have.

Blargh...

[thewritewolf]

Nino’s Quest Chapter 6: Out of the Woods

The true struggle of DnD - getting the party together for a session. Not at all helped by magic terrorism attacks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 (Final)

Enjoy!

Read on Ao3.  My ko-fi.

--- October 15th ---

Lord DM: Hey dudes, we still on for today? Since its been like two hours I’ll guess that was a no then

Adrien Regreste: sorry dude. Got roped into a last minute photoshoot :(

Marinoodles: same Wait no I mean- last minute bakery stuff Sorry to bail like this! D:

Alya’ll Beware: Don’t worry about it girl I was chasing that akuma that was running around It kept giving lb n cn the slip Got some good footage tho

Lord DM: Bummer dudes Guess thats one of the perks of living in paris We can try again next week, k?

--- October 18 ---

Direct Message From Alya

Alya: These akumas have been crazy, babe. Rain check on dates? At least until hawkbutt tires himself out

Nino: :( Can’t you take a break or two? You don’t have to be on the frontlines of EVERY akuma attack

Alya: …

Nino: [crying emojis, broken hearts, butterflies with red X’s over them]

Alya: alright, alright But just two, okay? People count on me for the latest news

Nino: totally, babe Just hope lb+cn won’t need rr+cara Cuz… you know That’d be rough

Alya: [eye rolling emoji] Yeah yeah I feel bad for them tho Their social life must be wack at this point

---October 22nd---

Lord DM: Hey, bro, we still meeting at your place or what? ??? Come on, dude! Not again! :(

Adrien Regreste: Sorry dude [sobbing emoji]

Alya’ll Beware: Akuma, babe. Can’t miss three in one week!

Lord DM: Yeah… guess so. Let’s just not miss the next sess, okay? I dont want this campaign to end

Alya’ll Beware: We’ve only missed two weeks so far. That’s not too bad We got pretty lucky with getting five in a row Esp considering how busy we usually are

Lord DM: Fair enough Next week sound good?

Alya’ll Beware: Should for me

---October 31st---

Lord DM: Im scared to ask but… DnD today?

Adrien Regreste: [thumbs up] I’ll be going on 4 hours of sleep But I can do it!

Marinoodles: Same here Lack of sleep and all

Alya’ll Beware: Yeah We good

Adrien Regreste: !!! Wait its actually happening Awesome! ...I should probably clean my room.

Marinoodles: XD Probably! :P

Adrien Regreste: :3

------------

An hour later and Nino had made the trip over to Adrien’s house, Alya and Marinette in tow. Their chatting had been less energetic than usual, no doubt because there wasn’t a single person among them who didn’t feel exhausted. A fact that wasn’t at all helped by the late hours that they were arriving at. It may have only been nineteen hundred hours, but when you’d only had a few hours of sleep each night for the past week, it made all the difference in the world.

Despite all that, they were determined. The very thought that they were willing to go through all this just to go further in his campaign was thrilling for Nino, and he didn’t want to let them down.

A wicked grin, looking out of place on him, stretched across his face. With the events he had planned for tonight’s session, he was sure they’d be awake in no time.

They entered Adrien’s room and saw the bounty of sugary treats and caffeine that their host had prepared. After some brief chit-chat, Nino got set up quickly and rolled right into the session. The longer he delayed the more likely it was that his players would fall asleep.

“The forest at last thins as you crest the top of a hill. From your vantage point, you can see the capital city on the horizon.” There were sighs of relief around the room.

“Finally! My character could definitely go for a proper bed after a week of roughing it,” Marinette said after taking a drink of pop.

“You’ll have to hurry, then. The sun is going to start sinking below the horizon. Unless you want to be stuck outside the city until morning, you’d better get moving.”

“My bard starts one last travel song as we rush over.” Adrien opened his phone, no doubt to a lyrics site and cleared his throat.

Alya quickly covered his mouth. “I do not have the time or patience to listen to another of your renditions of Take Me Home, Country Roads, Sunshine. Let’s just get to the city, alright?” Adrien’s eyes darted to Nino in a silent plea, but he simply shrugged.

“Sorry, dude. Babe has a point.”

Pouting, he closed his phone. Beside him, Marinette giggled and patted his back consolingly.

“You reach the city gates without any issue - no bandit or monster is stupid enough to get within stones throw of the capital, not with all the guards on patrol. They were a little suspicious to see you guys so late at night, but… two noble sigils, a bardic license, and my holy symbol put those dudes right at ease. There are still a few rooms open at the inn - how are you guys going to divvy up?”

A trio of blank stares looked back at him. He sighed.

“Each room costs money to rent. You don’t have a lot, so while you could get a private room for each of you, it’s probably better to room with someone else. So who is spending the night with who?”

“Dibs on the cleric!” Alya cried. She tapped her chin theatrically, “I guess that leaves you two together, right?”

“I- I guess so?” Adrien blinked, surprised at Alya’s sudden outburst. Marinette paled a little but nodded.

“Since you guys arrived so late, most of the rooms were already filled up and you had to make do with what you can get. When you finally find your rooms, they are across the inn from each other… and there is only one bed in each room.”

A slight blush, but neither Adrien nor Marinette were freaked out. Alya slumped in defeat - there wasn’t any roleplaying involved in sleeping after all. Unless they decided to do some method acting and have a sleepover.

“The four of us drift off to sleep, which was a totally great change of pace from the creepy woods that you’ve been sleeping in for a week now.” Nino punctuated his words with a yawn that proved contagious. “It was way late at night when suddenly… M, Adrien. Roll for perception.”

Adrien, naturally, rolled a one. Just when Nino was scared he’d accidentally killed them off, Marinette pulled through with a high roll. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“With your keen elven hearing, the creaking of the wooden floor boards was enough to jolt you from sleep. There is a glint of metal above you, and you feel a presence in the darkness. You have just a few seconds to react - what do you do?”

“I roll over!” Marinette blurts out, her eyes wide.

Nino nods. “Right, that puts you right on top of Adrien, who is now totally awake too. It was a good move, though - a knife plunges into the mattress, right where your neck had just been.”

All business now, Marinette asks, “What can I see?”

“Not much. Loose cloaks with hoods pulled up. Knives. Two people. The other person has stumbled back, probs spooked by your sudden movement.”

She taps her chin before her eyes widen again. “Wait, what about the others?! We have to go get them! Or at least get their help.” She shuffles through her character sheet. “Okay, um… I whisper to Adrien in Elvish ‘close your eyes’ and then I toss a flash flare thing at the guy.”

Nino rolls some saves - without the warnings, neither of them stood a chance. He looks up to see Marinette watching him with hopeful eyes. “You got ‘em, M. Now what?”

“I roll off the bed and try to take the guy’s knife.”

“You’ve got it and your turn ends there. The dudes are blinded, but it won’t be long before they’ve recovered. Adrien?”

“Can I cast a spell?”

“Not without your lyre, bro.”

“Fine, fine. I grab it off the bedside table.”

“And why do you think it’d be there?”

“...I’m a bard. Gotta be ready to play, first thing in the morning.” Adrien smirked.

Chuckling, Nino replied. “Alright, fair. What do you cast?”

Adrien stuck out a tongue as he thumbed through his spell list. His eyes lit up as he looked at Nino. “I cast summon monster one, and I summon the Good Boy.”

“Right,” Nino said as the others giggled. “So you’ve got your celestial dog next to you. I figure you want it to attack one of the dudes?”

To his surprise, Adrien shook his head. “No, I command him to go wake up the other two. Probably to go sit by their door and bark in a commanding angelic voice.”

The fight didn’t last long from there - the two of them probably would have been enough to deal with the assassins after they lost the element of surprise. But four against two made it a landslide victory.

“Even though you try your hardest, you weren’t able to catch either alive. One got stabbed and bled out and the other, well… hopefully the innkeeper will understand that it wasn’t your fault that the window got broken.”

“Do they have anything on them?” Alya crossed her arms. “I get the feeling someone is after us.”

“You’re immediately proven right when you find a note in the dead guy’s pocket that reads, ‘Information about the Necromancer cannot reach the king. Dispose of the adventurers before they get their audience.’”

The party exchanged looks.

“Spooky,” Adrien said flatly. The others nodded in agreement.

“Do I recognize the handwriting or anything?” Marinette leaned forward, the gears in her head turning. “Remember, I am a court brat.”

“Nope. Looks like it was written deliberately poorly. You don’t know if you’d recognize it normally.”

“Time for the king?” Adrien perked up.

“Yup, it’s time for-” Nino was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.

Adrien gulped. “Um… hello?”

Nathalie stepped into the room and narrowed her eyes at the dice and character sheets. Belatedly Nino remembered that Adrien usually claimed they were working on a project or homework during these sessions. “It is late. Your friends need to leave.”

Without a choice in the matter, they packed up and had the door shut behind them.

-------------

Nino’s fears were confirmed later that night during a discord chat.

Adrien Regreste: Sorry guys. Looks like we won’t be able to play at my house again Not for a while at least. :(

Lord DM: Don’t worry about it bro Had to happen eventually

Marinoodles: I’m so sorry! :( I hope you didn’t get in trouble because of us

Adrien Regreste: Nothing more than usual They aren’t threatening to keep me locked up at home So, you know Better than usual

Alya’ll Beware: That’s something at least R they going to let u hang out again?

Adrien Regreste: *shrugs* Probably. Anyway… Sorry to be a bummer. Night, everybody!

Marinoodles: Sweet dreams!

Alya’ll Beware: Night, kiddos.

Lord DM: Don’t let the assassins bite! ;) [Three thumbs down, one angry emoji]

[fandammit]

Loss like the sharp edges of a knife (1/9)

[A/N: I have no self control and need momentum/encouragement to keep this 10K monstrosity going, so here’s the initial 1100 words of Frank building his after. Title from Clementine von Radics poem, Mouthful of Forevers.]

Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9

The stillness of after is suffocating.

There are nights when he lays awake, listening to the sirens outside of his window, the low hum of the electricity and thinks he might go crazy from it -- the silence of a life without a war to fight.

He says as much to Curtis one night, out at some shithole bar somewhere after too many beers.

“Then add some noise into your life, man.”

Frank gives him a wry look, swigs his beer in his hands.

“What, like talk to myself? Sing in the shower?”

Curtis shakes his head.

“Other than me and the guys in group once a week, who do you talk to? Who do you see?”

He shrugs.

“Not really much of a people person, Curtis.”

“Bullshit, Frank.” Curtis shakes his head. “Everyone needs people.” He catches the look on Frank’s face. “Someone more than a guy you have a beer with every other month.”

He scoffs, leaning back against the bar and taking in the scene around him. He can feel Curtis staring at him, waiting for him to say something about the emptiness of his life without a gun in his hands or the rush of vengeance in his blood.

He takes a long drink of his beer instead.

Curtis sighs, taps his fingers against the top of the bar.

“You know what I think, man? I think you’re lonely.”

He wants to scoff, but the word strikes a chord within him and for a moment all he can hear is Karen’s voice, anguished and trembling and more than he deserves.

All I see is this endless, echoing loneliness...

So instead he just looks down at the beer in his hands and blows out a breath that he tells himself isn’t weighed down with longing.

“Yeah, you’re the second person to tell me that.”

“Yeah? This other person -- they good at seeing through your bullshit, too?”

The corner of his mouth turns up as he glances over at Curtis. He nods once before he looks away again.  

“Karen - yeah, she uh, she’s probably the best at it.”

He can feel Curtis's eye boring a hole into him, but he just brings the beer bottle to his lips, takes a drink as he keeps his stare steady straight in front of him.

“You know the only time I ever really see you smile is when you talk about her?” Curtis says, a question that isn't really a question. A question that he doesn't really have an answer to.

Luckily, Curtis doesn't seem to expect one.

“Karen - she say anything else that I'll probably agree with?”

He leans back against the bar.

“She said that, uh - that I was full of shit when I told her I wasn't lonely.” He looks over at Curtis with a wry smile.

Curtis huffs a laugh.

“You know, I might like her better than I like you.”

He shrugs.

“Wouldn't trust you unless you did.” He takes another drink - a long pull of beer from the bottle that empties it, that leaves him with nothing but the sound of Karen saying his name reverberating in his brain, the memory of the softness of her cheek beneath his lips. He clears his throat, squinting out at something that isn’t there - a flash of blond hair, wind whipping off the water and bringing with it the phantom scent of flowers and newspaper. “She told me that we're all - that life is just us fighting not to be alone.”

He looks over at Curtis and sets his beer down on the bar, signals the bartender for two more.

“So, am I ever gonna get to meet her?” Curtis asks, a too casual question that isn’t casual at all.

He shrugs, but doesn’t meet the other man’s eyes.

“Frank?” Curtis ducks his head and waits until Frank meets his eyes. “Hey, she does know you're alive, right? Right, Frank? You are not that big of an asshole.”

He takes a sip of his beer, feels the weight of Curtis’ disappointment as the other man stares at him.

“She knows I’m alive.”

“Because you told her? Because you talked to her.”

He lifts one shoulder in a shrugging motion.

“In a way,” he says, thinking of the pot of yellow daffodils pressed in his hand, a box of .380 bullets hidden among the stems.

He had left them on the window sill of her apartment, next to the place where she’d once put out the white roses. It’s a cowardly, bullshit way to let her know he’s alright and he’s fully willing to accept being called an asshole once or five times when he finally does talk to her.

“It’s only been three months,” he says finally, glancing over at Curtis. “I keep thinking - I wake up sometimes and wonder when the other shoe is gonna drop. When someone is gonna step out from behind an alleyway and try to pump me full of lead.” He looks down, squeezes his hands around his beer bottle to keep his trigger finger from tapping against it. “Sometimes I wish someone would.” He looks up at Curtis, shakes his head at the worried look. “Nah man, not cuz of that -  cuz it’d mean I’d have a new war to fight.” He blows out a harsh breath. “It’s not fair to drag her into that - either of those.”

“I don’t think it’s fair to make that decision for her,” Curtis says, even as the look on his face is filled with understanding. “But you’re gonna deal with your shit the way you’re gonna deal with it.” He takes a drink of his beer, then sets the bottle down on the bar. “I’ll tell you this, though. That feeling you have - the one where you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop - that’s not just you. All of us who come back have that feeling. But you can’t let it control your life.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“Live your life like it’s never gonna happen. Get a dog, join a gym, find a hobby.” He raises his eyebrow at Frank and grins. “Spend time with a friend more than once every other month. Maybe even find more than one friend, if you really wanna get crazy.”

He signals to the bartender for the tab, then turns back to Frank. “She’s right, you know. All of us are fighting not to be alone. Even you.” He tilts his head and stares intently at him. “Especially you.”

He thinks about those words as he makes his way home from the bar, feeling slightly buzzed, and goes to sleep with the phrase echoing in his mind.

[goldenscript]

morning glory.

park jimin | 4,140 words | hockey au / fluff ↳ mornings have always been the bane of your existence until a hockey player by the name of park jimin is involved.

author’s note: welp, this came out longer than i thought... lol. also, bless bts’s “as i told you” cover for inspiring this <3 (you can watch the performance here!)

It goes without saying that waking you up in the morning is like asking for a death wish. You actually enjoy sleeping until noon and waking to see sunlight streaming past your curtains. It’s your own therapy after a long, gruelling weekday of waking up early, studying, and working at as a campus barista, so you refuse to let anyone disturb your weekends. Especially not when your only responsibility on those two days are working from 6 PM to closing. The very act of waking you before 11:30 AM is a downright sin that you would never subject yourself to, ever, and yet—

You’re awake on a Saturday at 7:30 AM. Because to every cloud in which you are never to be woken before a reasonable time is a silver lining that comes in the form of a man named Kim Taehyung. You see, being awake before the sun’s rays hang from high in the sky is a result of your godforsaken family friend asking—well, more like begging—you for a favor that had you known would entail the involvement of the school’s prized dual-playing center forward and right wing defenseman, none other than Park Jimin, would have you rejecting any offers of free milk teas and hot pot for the rest of winter quarter. 

Though as much as you curse at the brunet for tricking you into this ordeal, you can’t say you’re complaining too much. Despite the niggle of a doubt that doing this may screw over your small infatuation with him further, you’ve actually come to enjoy said mornings with the blond. The first of them began bumpily but that can only be expected when Taehyung had to drag you to the ice rink where he regrettably told you that there was indeed no more coffee in the nearby vending machine and a rather snippy Jimin got you on you both for arriving late; but, despite this inconvenience, you managed to film Jimin with little to no trouble as promised and he even rewarded you with some much needed caffeine afterwards. It wasn’t long before this first practice recording melded into the second to the third to even the fourth, where each interaction became increasingly more and more comfortable than the last.

Between the flirty repertoire to even the witty banters that ensued, you began to grow comfortable with the ever-so-popular, Park Jimin. You learned that he was from a beach town where many of its people cared for one another, never ceasing to wane in their united front. You learned how he came to love hockey, thanks to his father and a game that played on his television screen at seven in the morning when he was eight. You learned that over all else that he was the type of person who worked hard for what he wanted and it showed, not only in his athletic performance but his academic one as well. Most of all, you learned that he was indeed a morning person, and because of his early wakings as a child, he can only celebrate this discovery by continuing this tradition every morning.

You don’t like it, but you certainly can’t demote its importance. In fact, you can’t help but admire him for all of it, for his hardworking ethics, for his charming demeanor, and for his attentive nature, because since that day you replaced Taehyung as Jimin’s recorder and proved that you could do the task well, he’s been nothing but sweet to you. From the cheeky smiles he’ll throw over his shoulder to his habit to lend you an extra sweater to the way he once let you onto the ice and he was right by your side the entire time.

Since your time as his recorder, you can’t help but admit that the small infatuation you had for him as bloomed tenfold with each Saturday you’ve spent with him making it grow even more than you thought possible. It’s alarming to say the least, but of course you show no signs of it affecting you too much.

On this particular day, you come to the rink just a little bit earlier than usual. It’s only your fifth time recording for him, but it’s the day before his big game and he practically begged you. And you do so with little protest; after all, this game means the world to him, because one game just isn’t ‘one game’ to him. As you stated before, Park Jimin was a big baller, an all or nothing type of person.

So, with a resounding sweep across the scratched surface, a sharp thwack! can be heard echoing throughout the empty ice rink. This very man with tufts of blond hair slick against his forehead graces across the ice to retrieve the puck from the clutches of the well-weathered netting. Though he is on the ice in a pair of compressed shorts and white long-sleeve sweater, you can see the material of his sweater cling to his chest. You zoom out of his form as he turns toward you, effectively ending this practice video.

Once he returns to you in the box, removing his skates, you begin to scold him, “You’re not even playing, and you look like you just played a shit ton of scrimmages.”

“Actually,” Jimin says in a matter-of-factly tone, “that’s an all-day scrimmage.”

You roll your eyes at him, shoving the Hydro Flask to him with a grumble, “Same difference.”

“Well—”

“—Okay, okay boy genius,” you sigh, shaking your head. “Go dry yourself off before you catch a cold or somethin’.”

Taking the water bottle from him, you hand him a towel from the adjacent bench and watch as he dries the top of his head. “Y’know,” he says with a smile curving on his lips, “you probably wouldn’t get worked about me getting sick so much if you stopped stealing my clothes.”

“It’s one hoodie, you’ll live,” you huff, allowing one of the long sleeves to go over your hand and effectively hit his arm a harmless smack. “Plus, you said I could use it. Still beyond me that you don’t get cold being in this freezer.”

“Not if you’re gonna use it as a weapon!” he scoffs, grabbing onto the loose sleeve. “I may need to ask for it back.”

You pout, “After everything I’ve done for you!—”

“—All you’ve done it wake up early, Y/N.” he deadpans, giving the sleeve shake. You unwisely decide to use the other sleeve as a weapon, but the same result occurs and you’re trapped within the oversized confines of the soft cotton material. His half-moon eyes meet yours and you swear you hear your own heart skip a beat. And, fuck, did your breath just hitch? You try not to bring notice to it by meeting his eyes with half-narrowed ones. 

“For the record, Jimin, waking up early is a cruel hell.” you shake your head, trying to pry yourself from his grasp. “It’s still a miracle that Taehyung convinced me to do it for you.”

Jimin’s lips are pulled together as he tries to suppress his own giggles at your meager attempts, tilting his head to the side to ask, “It’s ‘cuz you love me huh?”

Your nose merely scrunches in response before you quip, “Do you have a concussion or is your head just getting bigger from your ego?”

He laughs, sending more stutters to your poor heart. “I’ll just take that as a yes.”

You scoff with your own smile, “In what world was that jab against your ego an ‘I love you’?”

“Because it’s coming from you,” he replies, shrugging off your inquisitive look. Still he maintains his hold on you. Funny how it’s almost akin to a physical representation of what he’s doing to your heart. Even as you struggle from him, just for the sake of your own burning cheeks, he still manages to keep you in place. His visage seemingly even a little closer than you last remembered. Or is your brain playing a cruel joke on you?

You almost want to deny it, especially when you’re certain that your heart wants to have any excuse to be beside this golden boy but you feel his breath fan across your chilled cheeks. The mint radiates off him in waves even with the dried sweat on the side of his face.

When you feel his warm breath significantly closer against your cheeks, you recoil back with cheeks flushed than ever. “What are you doing?!”

He laughs again, scooting forward as he replies, “Your cheeks looked cold! I was warming them.”

This time you don’t move away though your screaming appendage is telling you to do so. He’s practically a hair’s breadth away, moving his grip on your sleeves to cover your poor reddened cheeks. He frowns at the sight, “Jeez. I might need to bring two extra sweaters if you’re gonna get this cold.”

“Wha—”

“Free of charge, of course,” he says, keeping his unsurprisingly warm palms over your visage alongside the sleeves. The way this guy managed to maintain heat even in this arctic environment was a skill you wished he could bestow upon you. Not that you minded this treatment very much.

You can barely contain yourself the longer he seems to stay there watching you warm up. With Jimin, there’s always been a lack of personal space. He’s understanding when you tell him, but since you two breached comfortability after the second week, it’s almost impossible for him not to be this way. You just can’t help but kind of hope there’s more to the lingering touches and the thoughtful gestures—okay, really hope there’s more to it than just him being him, though you’d be damned to bring up any of this to Taehyung.

Jimin then says, “Hey,” You look up just as he asks, “are you busy tomorrow night?”

He’s still close as ever, and it’s almost hard to think under that kind of pressure when a part of you just wants to press his lips to yours. Regardless, you try to rack your brain even as you almost immediately know the answer. It’s a Sunday, after all. But you decide not to answer the question completely, “I might have work… why—”

Is he going to ask me to come to his game? I mean… I’m going already.

“—oh, nevermind,” he says with pink cheeks, gently releasing your sleeves. “So, um,” he coughs, “did I do alright?”

Oh. Nevermind. You let out a breath of relief, hoping it just came off as an exasperated sigh . That’d ruin the surprise.

You pretend to give him a funny look at the sudden change in topic, adjusting the sleeves back to your wrists before showing him the video.

In your own flushed embarrassment, it seems you overlooked his own flushed cheeks and pounding heart. But that only comes as a relief to Jimin.

By the end of the practice, the two of you wind up parting ways after a cup of coffee and a few pastries from the bakery. It was becoming a tradition to going together, and the more and more time you two got to spend together, the more he was beginning to feel the effects of a mere infatuation bloom into actual feelings. From the small anecdotes about how your love life has been nothing but failed experiences after failed experiences to how much you adored the Harry Potter books so much you’ve read them at least four or five times since you purchased them at the age of nine.

He enjoys the fact that you’re so kind and hardworking, even more so at your timeliness to his Saturday practices. He loves how cold you get from the frost on the other side of the glass and from the outside world, seeing you bundled up when you enter and bundle even more after he’s lent you his oversized black sweatshirt. In truth, he finds you so fascinating and so beautiful, it’s almost sad that he never tried to get to know you sooner. And considering he’s best friends with your family friend, it seems like your paths would’ve crossed sooner (or perhaps that’s him wishing you two had).

He can’t help but throw himself onto his bed after discarding of his practice clothes into his hamper, his backpack a little lighter because he didn’t have to lug that extra weight with him. Just knowing that you have it is enough to make him smile at the loss of one of his favorite sweaters—

“—Dude, you are so whipped.” Taehyung says, plopping down his own backpack and laying on his bed.

Jimin retorts, throwing a pillow, “You hush. Am not.”

His best friend grins, catching it before placing it on his bed. “Are too. You’re practically grinning from ear to ear right now, and I know for a fact that there isn’t a hockey game playing today so there’s only reason why you’re smiling that big.”

He then groans in response, laying flat on his back before craning his head to the brunet, “She’s not coming tomorrow.”

Taehyung’s brows scrunch together as he asks, “How do you know that?”   

“She said she was working tomorrow night.”

“Did she say that word for word?”

Does he know something?

Jimin sits up and looks at the engineering major with narrowed eyes, “Why?”

Despite how nonchalant he tries to look with a simple shrug, Jimin sees the slight panic flash across his eyes. “Well…” he pauses for a second, “It’s important to know what she says verbatim. Leaves chance that she might show up if she said might or maybe or somethin’.”

The hockey player considers this, knowing that you were the type to do things you set your mind on. From working during the school week to pursuing an English major despite the doubt from your family members to waking up early to help him out despite how much you valued that time to sleep in and relax. Of course, the last thing was a result of Taehyung needing mornings to help tutor Jungkook in physics but still you made it work in your schedule because you hated not keeping your word.

So, Jimin took that moment to nod, “Alright. Yeah. You’re right.” He takes a deep breath before admitting, “I just… don’t want to have that expectation that she’ll show and then she doesn’t, y’know?” 

“Don’t worry about it so much! Have a little faith, why dontcha?”

Jimin can’t help but laugh, shaking his head as he says, “Ever the optimistic, aren’t you?”

Without another word, his younger friend merely tosses his pillow back to him, “Of course! Now stop brooding and help me study for this midterm. You owe me~”

And it’s true. Taehyung has played a detrimental part in bringing you and Jimin together. The moment Jimin actually voiced how cute you were, the brunet took it upon himself to set up this a little arrangement. Always sending winks and knowing grins between the two of them whenever he could because this was something pretty new for Jimin.

Having feelings for someone else, even as an infatuation was something new. All Jimin has really ever focused on since his entrance into the university was hockey and school, because juggling a sport and a degree in business was important, and to have a relationship meant adding another priority onto his rather packed list. Yet with you, there was no hassle, just ease. He didn’t need to think so much about his feelings for you when you started filming his practices, rather you slipped your way in like an opposing defense man catching him off guard. He couldn’t find it in himself to fight you off, not the same way as he had with Jooheon last season, but he let himself slip and he hasn’t regretted it since.

By the time tomorrow comes, Taehyung is more than well-equipped to take on his midterm on Monday and Jimin is up bright and early for his well-awaited first game. His own nerves have shaken him to the point where the jitters can’t stop permeating across his limbs. Even his simple walk to breakfast in the kitchen has a spring in his step, and there’s little he can do to help it.

His routine is a normal one where he does nothing else but take careful bites of the Cheerios. Something light to keep everything down. He even goes for a cup of coffee at the downstairs café, smiling to himself because he’s begun to associate all things caffeinated with you. The smell of roasted coffee grounds and the softness of the shop sends his heart in stutters.

His smile can hardly be contained when he receives a text from you. A simple one that says:

[7:34 AM] y/n <3: good luck today, super star!

He replies:

[7:35 AM] me: you coming today?

But he can only feel his heart sink a little when you respond:

[7:35 AM] y/n <3: can’t. Got work :( kick ass for me alright?

You look over at Taehyung as he rests himself upon the counter, waiting for his caramel macchiato. His knowing smile makes you want to roll your eyes, but he shoves over your iced coffee as the two of you make your way out of your shop. Namjoon, your manager waves you off with a wink. Courtesy of Taehyung’s big mouth about the events that are supposed to transpire today.

Of course, you felt bad for telling Jimin you wouldn’t be able to come to his game. It was almost too cruel from the way he responded with a simple, “Oh. Alright, thanks! Wish you were coming.” All of which was tied together with a small little frowny face that made you frown in return. But before you can mull on it further, your own thoughts encircling you in a shroud of doubt that maybe surprising him was a mistake—after all, the only significance you held in his life was his practice recorder—Taehyung wraps an arm around your shoulders and informs you that there is a good thirty minutes until Jimin is playing and you can quote, “There’s no way in hell we’re missing it.”

And so, you allow your giant of a friend who used to be your height until high school came around, guide you to the familiar rink where a mass of people seemed to be entering in their own garbled excitement to see people ram into each other for a small, plastic puck. The next half-hour passes with ease and it isn’t long until you’re inside. The line itself was quite long so by the time you and Taehyung find decent seats, Jimin’s on the ice, facing off against a school from the next city over. It’s like second nature to him as he eases across the scratched ice, going between the opposing team’s defense to score.

When the puck flies past the goalie, you find yourself screaming next to Taehyung and the rest of the supporting crowd. You feel your own endorphins releasing as if you can feel the excitement of others, and suddenly your chest is on fire as you catch Jimin’s eye because in your own daze, your hearing had forgone Taehyung’s screaming of the hockey player’s name.

The moment you meet Jimin’s eyes feels like magic—as if in slow motion, they seem to form those glorious half-moons, meeting yours to remind you of how much you wanted to come see him. It feels like he may feel the same; the way he meets your gaze and sweeps over you in that split second. And despite the brevity of the contact, you can still see the way he lights up, practically feel it. You’re certain that he’s shining more than ever now that he’s seen you and Taehyung, and you almost want to brush it off as nothing but an elbow to your side suggests other things.

He beams at you, obviously overlooking your glare, “Look! Did you see that? He’s freakin’ elated that you’re here!”

You want to scoff, but you hear another roar of cheers as Jimin rams into the center to keep them from scoring. Instead of answering your family friend, you opt to cheer for the boy on the ice. He continues to shoot and score, some of which were assisted by his teammates Jungkook and Seokjin, and it isn’t long until they’ve won and the crowd’s gone even more wild. 

Taehyung ushers you toward the front, now at the entrance of the rink as you find yourself face to face with the gloriously sweat drenched boy which was apparently his first thought over celebrating with the rest of his teammates. But you hardly have time to acknowledge them when you see that his smile is wider than it’s ever been as he practically hollers, “You made it!!!”

“Ye—”

But you barely manage a word as he wraps his arms around you lifting you from your spot. You can barely even hear the roar of cheers from his teammates or even your own shrieks at the sudden contact but you deny the way you smiling broadly at him. With your hands at his shoulders, he sets you back down and perhaps it’s the adrenaline pumping through both of you or the way he’s looked between your eyes and lingered on your lips longer than normal but you firmly grip his jersey and pull him over to meet your lips.

You love it. You love the way the taste of cherry Gatorade and mint intermingle on your lips, the way he seems to pull you in closer, and even the way he pulls away to his forehead to yours and says, “Holy fuck…” in a low, guttural sound. He blinks for a second to ask, “Was that okay?”

With a grin, you manage a nod and a whisper, “Congrats, super star. It was perfect.”

“You told me you couldn’t make it,” he then says, pulling away to raise a brow at you though his hands remain firmly planted at your hips.

You shrug your shoulders and reply sheepishly, “Surprise?”

He throws his head back and laughs, a sound akin to bells or chimes (whatever is the most beautiful, really) before nodding. “Consider me surprised then.”

“Why? ‘Cuz I’m just that breathtaking?” you say with an ever-growing smile. Your heart is swelling to the size of the moon, and seeing his half-moon eyes is making it even larger.

He nods once again, unable to fight back his own elation as he responds, “Damn right you are. Hell, you’re even up before noon. What a miracle.” After a moment, taken from his need to laugh from the small pout you’ve just given him, he says, “How about I hit the showers and afterwards I take you out?”

“Like on a date?” You blink, heart now thudding louder more than ever. Holy shit...

He nods simply, “Can I...?”

“Of cour—”

“—Of course you can,” Taehyung quips to your left, his boxy grin is more prominent than ever. “Have her home at a reasonable time,” he says with feigned sternness though that soon passes as he pats you two on your shoulders, “and you two are very much welcome.”

Before you or Jimin can get a word in, he’s already disappearing past the double doors and waving you two off. And from the looks of the ice, the next game should be beginning soon so you look to Jimin and formally say, “Well, to answer your question: yes.”

“Great,” he says, pressing a kissing to your nose, “How does boba and hotpot sound?”

“Absolutely wonderful.”

—

It isn’t long until he’s out of the showers and dressed warmly for the outside weather, you glance down at your watch and note that it’s barely breaking eleven. Looking up to see Jimin smiling at you, he even offers you a hand that soon interlaces with your fingers. Whether Taehyung set you two up fully knowing both of your feelings or not seems to be a topic you two decide to discuss later. It goes without saying but you can’t help but thank him for that and for showing you just how nice mornings can be.

The chill air hit your cheeks but the warmth at your side makes you feel contentment. He’s chatting about the best things on the restaurant menu, and when he looks at you, you feel yourself even more grateful for the cold because you’re not sure how much teasing you’ll get from the blond-haired man at your side. (Albeit a small part of you can’t wait to hear it come from him.)

And ultimately, though you’d hate to admit it to Taehyung or even Jimin himself, waking up early isn’t so bad after all.

[ichigopanhpff]

Ignis x Reader Fic: Next to You Part 10

My readers are masochists xDDD I love you guys. Because you guys have been so patient with me, in one go it is! All 4,390 words of it!

As all good things have to come to an end, the next chapter will be the last. As I’ve said in a previous post, I’m debating whether or not to make a one-shot on post-Altissia followed with the 10 years of darkness.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 11 (NSFW)

“Is (Y/N) awake yet?” Prompto asked while trying to suppress an escaping yawn in failure and stretched his arms up to the morning sky. “She’s out cold,” Ignis sighed and lightly shook his head. “Like the dead.” Noct muttered out something incoherent and rubbed his closed right eye. “Why can she sleep in and I can’t?” Gladio glanced at the whining prince, crossed his arms and pointed out, “’Cuz you’re not the one who ran around killin’ stuff for five days straight. We should take her with us before she does somethin’ stupid, like raid a Niflheim base by herself,” he suggested. “A valid point, Gladio,” the adviser agreed.

Ignis ducked into the tent and picked (Y/N)’s limp form up bridal style. Her head lulled onto the small crook of his neck and felt her breath tickle his clavicle. Packing up the rest of their camping equipment back into the car, the five headed back to Lestallum. (Y/N) was sandwiched between Gladio and Noct in the backseat. As the adviser made a sharp turn, her head gently landed on the tattooed man’s right bicep. She grumbled with lightly knitted brows and made herself comfortable on her now human pillow.

He looked down at her and smirked.

“She’s worse than Noct.” “Hey, I’m up, aren’t I?” the dark haired prince snapped and glowered at his friend. “Yeah, after poking and prodding you for 15 minutes straight,” Prompto chimed in and took a photo of (Y/N). “And I’m sure her new abilities are taxing on her,” Ignis added. “To have three at her disposal...” “What do you mean?” Noct asked. “From what little I managed to read up on her family years ago, her weapons are called Reliquiaes; a (Y L/N) is capable of having a maximum of two; a soul weapon and/or a complimentary. The soul weapon allows them to eliminate targets without a shred of evidence, making them the perfect assassins; the complimentary enhances something they’re already well versed with or to support someone who only has a soul weapon.” “So let’s see, she has her own, ‘Spirited Away,’… Her brother’s Silentium Ferro blades...” Prompto listed off. “And her other brother’s eyes,” Gladio finished. “So she has two complimentaries and one soul weapon?” Noct questioned. “Does this mean she can still create her own weapon to balance it out?” “Your guess is as good as mine,” Ignis replied as they drove through Old Lestallum. “But I worry her body won’t be able to handle it.” “Right. Because she repressed her awakening for so long...” the prince trailed off. “I’m sure that weakened her a bit.” “But she did it to save Iggy’s life,” Prompto noted. “At the cost of her own...” the driver trailed off and tightly gripped the steering wheel from frustration. “Why didn’t she tell me sooner?” “She probably didn’t want you to worry,” the muscular man gauged. He sighed aloud. “Keeping up with this guessing game will do us no good until (Y/N) wakes up.”

The party arrived at Lestallum short after and parked the car.

“So… what are we gonna do now? She’s still out cold,” Noct stated and placed his hands on his hips. “Do we know where she’s staying?” Gladio included. “Let’s head back to The Leville first,” Ignis instructed. “We’ll figure out the next step from there.” “It’s rare you don’t have a full plan hashed out like you usually do,” Prompto pointed out. “She’s quite good at being a monkey wrench,” the spectacled adviser stated. “It’s almost a talent, if you ask me. Got her into loads of trouble at school.” “What for?” the prince asked. “Mouthing off at the teachers, especially in Lucian history. (Y/N) would go off on all these tangents about how the Kings and Queens could’ve done things differently with strategic theories if they didn’t lack so much conviction to properly rule the kingdom; she then went on to criticize the teacher’s teaching ability and earned herself a 2-day suspension.” “She really cuts right to the chase,” Prompto blurted out with a light chuckle, all too aware of this habit of hers.

Ignis opened the back car door and slung (Y/N) onto his back to carry her, with Noct helping him position her.

“When you’re an adviser in-training, you don’t mince words and question every motive.” Arriving back at the hotel, Ignis brought (Y/N) upstairs to their room with Gladio’s help and placed her down on his bed. He removed the top layer of her fatigues so she’d be able to sleep more comfortably in her tank top instead. The dusky haired man stood back up and arched his back, feeling and hearing his spine crack aloud.

“She’s a lot heavier than I last remembered...” the spectacled adviser casually remarked with a grunt and stretched his arms over his head. “Don’t let her hear that,” the rugged guard advised with a smirk. The air in the room turned moderately serious. “Hey, Iggy… ‘Bout what I said at camp last night–” “It’s fine,” he quickly interjected. “It was a wake-up call I needed.” “So did she tell you? How she felt n’ all?”

Ignis remained silent and sat at the edge of the bed, looked at her and sighed.

“She did.” “But you turned her down,” he assumed. “The adviser cannot put his life before the crown for his own needs,” Ignis recited from memory. “I get what you’re sayin’, but there’s some things you can’t let pass by.” “I guess… we’ll just have to see.”

Leaving her in the room to rest, Gladio and Ignis rejoined Noct and Prompto in the lobby to plan out their next step. The King’s Shield, being reluctant to leave Iris on her own, decided to escort her to Cape Caem. However, taking her along in the Regalia meant they had to leave (Y/N) behind. And since Ignis wanted a little time with her, they decided to stay in town for a few extra days to gather funds and supplies before setting out on the road again.

The lone rogue eventually roused back into the world of the living in a daze. She craned her head up and lazily looked around to see she was alone in an unfamiliar room. Scattered sunlight filtered through the shuttered windows. The couch at the far end had a set of neatly folded blanket with a pillow on top. She rubbed her face to rid her of grogginess and let out a long sigh while motioning to sit up on the bed. The room door then slowly opened.

“You’re finally up,” Ignis greeted and closed it behind him softly. “Where… am I?” (Y/N) croaked out and swallowed hard down her parched throat. “At The Leville.” “How long was I out?” she moaned out and ran a heavy hand through her hair and sighed again. Her sleep-ridden eyes followed him to the far end of the room. “Little past two days.”

He drew the wooden shades back to get some sunlight in, making her shield her eyes with her hands and groaned aloud.

“Two days? Jeez...”

He poured her a glass of water; she downed it with reckless abandonment when he handed it over. Satiating her thirst, (Y/N) took another deep inhale and shuffled around to push the covers off of herself with what strength she had. He immediately walked over to help her up. Her leg muscles felt like lead and every bone in her body ached.

“How are you feeling?” “Like a friggin’ Catoplebas’ head rammed into me for some truffles,” she grunted and placed a strong, steady hand on Ignis’ shoulder for support as she sat up at the edge of the bed. Her body hunched over. “I think I overdid it this time.” “I’d say so… Having three Reliquiae at your disposal and all.” “Ah...” (Y/N) briefly paused. “So you know.” She let out a dry chuckle and looked down at her flexing toes to get some blood flow going. “Of course you do.” “Have you tried using them all at once?” “I’d probably die if I did.” “Would you still be able to create your own weapon if you’re using your brother’s?” “… I don’t think so.”

Her eyes wandered over to her boots, where her daggers could be found sheathed.

“I’m too attached to those,” she said fondly. Ignis’ gaze followed hers and recognized the weapons from the hilt alone.

“I haven’t seen those since--” “Our training days,” she finished with a small smile. “I have to do maintenance on them.” “So you’ve been using Azrael’s weapons instead.” “Sparingly. His blades take too much outta me.” She took another deep breath and sighed to wake herself up some more, her body still feeling cumbersome. “You should rest,” Ignis suggested with a tone of concern and placed his hand at the small of her back. She then turned her head to face him. “Dude, I was out for two whole days,” she stated. “How much longer do I need?” “Until you feel like you’ve recovered.” “I’ll be fine...” she waved him off and gently closed her eyes, huffing a light breath, feeling a bit of her energy recovered. “What time is it now?” “Around eleven in the morning.”

(Y/N) released an audibly annoyed scoff at herself and lazily got up to gather her belongings. As weighty and in pain she’s in, she couldn’t afford to slack off. There were people waiting for her.

“Where are you going?” “Home.” “Home?” “I got a place here.” “You did?” “Technically, yes...” she sheepishly replied and laced up her left boot. Slowly standing up, she gave herself a nice, long and steady stretch with her arms up, feeling her heavy sleep-ridden muscles elongate with the motion. (Y/N) then grabbed her upper layer of fatigues laying on a chair and threw it on. “I’ll explain. C’mon.”

She made her way to the door with the adviser following not too far behind. She went down the stairs step by step and held onto the staircase railing tightly, not trusting the strength of her legs and was greeted by everyone else in the lobby.

“Hey! Look who came back from the dead!” Prompto happily greeted and was replied with a nod. “Your eyes...” Noct pointed out. “They’re still orange.”

It was then she realized she wasn’t wearing her blindfold anymore. She turned to Ignis and saw him pull it out from his trouser pocket and handed it to her.

“Is there no way you can change them back to normal?” he asked with worry. “I’m sure there is; I just haven’t figured it out yet.”

She pocketed the blindfold and opted for the hood over her face instead.

“And you can see without your glasses?” asked Gladio. “I’d say that’s the only good thing comin’ out of all this crap,” she responded. “Chronos’ eyesight was like an eagle’s and that transferred over too.”

(Y/N) headed out of the hotel and gestured them all to come along. After walking down several winding side streets in the sweltering city, they reached a small cul de sac two blocks from the main road. The locals cheerily greeted her and the party.

“Rosa!” a woman called from behind, startling Ignis with a jump of his shoulders. “You’re back!” “Sorry I took so long,” she turned and apologized. “I got the stuff you needed.” “I did send you out pretty far… I thought you’d been killed when I didn’t hear back.” “Ah, my phone died. Couldn’t get to a camper to recharge.”

She reached into her bag and handed the lady a handful of herbs and some cuts of meat in an airtight sealed plastic film. She thanked (Y/N) and made her way down the opposite end of the street. Ignis pulled her aside and asked under his breath, “… You used your codename?” “A variation,” she corrected. “It’s common enough for no one to question.” “True, but it’s risky.” “Ig, my parents are the Niff’s hostages and my brothers are dead,” she reiterated as a matter of factly. “They have no leverage on me.” “And you don’t consider me as leverage?” She gave him a small smile and patted him between his upper chest and shoulder.

“You’re a big boy; you can handle yourself. And you have back-up.”

And there it was again; her ability to keep him at arms’ reach with those simple words. He sighed and let her go back to the group.

“So… Rosa?” Gladio enquired with an interested eyebrow, suddenly remembering her brand. “I took my own advice with a moniker after the little stunt you pulled back in Crown City.”

(Y/N) walked on ahead and they found themselves in front of a small hair salon. She reached into her pocket for the key, unlocked the door to the left side of the store and invited them in. Walking up a dark and narrow flight of stairs, she opened the second door to a small, brightly lit and lived in alcove studio apartment. Like her apartment back in Crown City, it was scarcely decorated.

“Make yourselves at home.”

Feeling the layers of grime caked onto her skin and clothes, she unlaced her boots and made a beeline for the bathroom, followed with the sound of running water. The boys entered her sitting area; it looked like a tornado whipped through with the mess of stacked books and papers scattered about the floor, couch and coffee table.

“She’s… been busy,” Noctis noted. “She’s been researching,” Ignis remarked and picked a random page up with scribbled notes of wildlife and rare plants in the local area. “Some of this stuff’ll be useful,” Gladio added and eyed a topographic map of the Leide and Cleigne areas with more scribbled notes to the side of it. “And looks like her night time excavations were fruitful too.”

The tattooed man picked up a handmade bestiary index of daemons with information on their strengths and weaknesses and thumbed through it with interest. Having his curiosity get the best of him alongside his affinity for tech stuff, Prompto gathered some paper into a neat pile and placed it aside to sit down. He then woke (Y/N)’s laptop from idle mode and saw an interesting piece of information on it.

“Oh Gods… guys, look,” he called in a hushed voice. The three made their way over behind the blond boy and their eyes widened; she somehow managed to get the detailed blueprints to all of Niflheim forts in a 3D wireframe render.

“What’s that stuff scrolling in window on the left there?” Noct asked and pointed to the window on the screen. “I dunno… It’s some kinda code.” “It’s a virus I wrote to shut down the bases’ intruder alert and to deactivate any annoying patrolling MTs,” (Y/N)’s voice replied. “Their security firewalls have proven to be tricky, so I’ve been trying to backdoor it.”

The four whipped their heads up to see her fully refreshed wearing a tank top showing her midriff with black pants similar to Noctis’. The scarring edges from her brand peeked out from underneath with a damp hair towel hung around her neck. Her abnormal colored eyes seemed to have been disguised with a pair of colored contacts.

“And that’s part of your plan to take down their forts?” Gladio asked as she casually walked over to the group. “What’d you think I’d do, run in with my blades and take out the whole fort head-on? That’s suicide.” “Er, that’s what we kinda did...” he nervously blurted out and rubbed the back of his head. “Because someone got careless and we had no choice but to do so,” Ignis snipped and looked in Noct’s direction. “Hey, at least we managed to blow it up,” the prince fought back. “By the skin of our teeth…” the adviser sighed. “What’s important is you all made it out alive,” (Y/N) stated with a finalized tone to end the discussion and placed her hands on her hips. “Just… don’t be so gung-ho next time and try to listen to Ig, yeah? He’s your adviser and only has the best intentions, Prince Noctis. Though he can talk too much…” she trailed off and placed a hand to her chin. “See?! That’s my point!” the dark-haired boy exclaimed and threw his hands up in the air. “If you kept your strategies explanations short, we would’ve followed it better!” “What part of ‘attack’ and ‘hide when necessary’ did you not understand?” “I think the part where you hid those keywords inside your elaborations, Ig,” she commented with a half-amused smirk and crossed her arms.

The three boys let out an audible enough snicker to earn them a stern glare from Ignis and exasperatingly sighed. “I will work on this,” he conceded and decided to change the topic. “(Y/N)… Is it alright for you to be wearing...” his voice tapered off and lightly cleared his throat. “What, this?” She looked down at her top and back up at him. “It’s what the locals wear. Gotta blend in, right?” “I understand that, but… I mean your...” He looked down and discreetly pointed to the left side of his ribcage. “I usually wear something on top to hide it,” she assured and put her now damp hair towel on the back of her wooden dining chair. “Not exactly a badge of honor I can openly show.” “So how did you get this place?” he asked. “As you saw from before, I do favors for the neighbors here by foraging food items they can’t get at the market. And I help out downstairs whenever foraging gigs are slow.” “The hair salon?” Prompto asked. “Nice cover, don’tcha think?” she boasted with a smirk. “If you’re using it as a front for illegal activities, sure,” Gladio joked and paused. “You’re not in… illegal activities, right?” (Y/N) gave him an innocent shrug of the shoulders with a small, devious smile.  “Wouldn’t your family have a safe house for you to use instead?” Noct asked. “It’s safe to assume they have all the information on our hide-outs and previous aliases thanks to my parents.” “So you’re a fugitive,” Prompto guessed. “Thanks to that burn notice, pretty much. Guess all that resourceful training’s finally come handy, eh Ig?” “Hiding in plain sight. I’d say that’s beyond resourceful; it’s risky, but tactical,” he commended. She gave him a small smile and noticed how long their hair’s gotten. (Y/N) then grabbed a clean t-shirt hanging on the other dining chair and threw it on.

“Life on the road’s been tough on you all. You could use a touch up,” she pointed to her damp locks. “Can’t have the prince and his bunch of merry men looking like a ragged hot mess in Altissia.” “We don’t look that bad!” Prompto huffed out. “Even a chocobo’s butt ruffle looks more groomed than what you got goin’ on.” “HEY!” the freckled blond boy angrily shouted over the roaring laughter from Noct and Gladio; Ignis held his in through snickers and shaking shoulders. (Y/N) made her way to the door and proceeded to go downstairs.

“You waitin’ for the grass to grow? Come on!”

Filing back down the stairs, (Y/N) unlocked the entrance to the salon and let them all in. It was a small 3-seater with a classic black-and-white checkered tile floor. Behind the barber seats laid a broken-in leather couch from years of usage. The lights flickered on from the switch by the door, revealing the teal colored painted walls.

“So, who wants to go first?” she asked and the three collectively pointed to Ignis, to which the man merely stammered wordlessly. “It’s not that we don’t trust you with our ‘do...” Prompto hesitantly began. “It totally is,” Noct immediately stated. “But have you even… cut hair before?” the freckled boy finished. “I’m pretty handy with a trimmer. Owner herself taught me.”

She firmly propped her hand over the hair-washing sink with a small smile, waiting for her first “client.” Both Prompto and Noct gave Ignis a steady push with their hands from behind as he turned with an irate expression and tried not to click his tongue.

“C’mon Ig. Not the first time I cut your hair...” “I was hoping that’d be the last...” he said under his breath and reluctantly sat down in the seat, remembering the hack job she gave him back in junior high as a school assignment. He removed his glasses and placed it in his shirt pocket as she tucked a dry towel at the base of his neck and draped a hair smock over him.

“Head back.”

She took out a hot, steamed towel and placed it at the base of his neck for extra cushioning and for him to relax. After testing the warmth of the water from the shower head, she ran it over Ignis’ hair with care. Shutting off the faucet, she then pumped a handful of shampoo to gently massage and lather in. Rinsing out the suds, she gave his hair a firm wring, rubbed some conditioner in before removing the heated towel from his neck and placed it atop his forehead. As if by magic, (Y/N) managed to find the stressed muscles around the base of his skull and temples; Ignis haplessly let a small, relaxed moan escape his lips.

“You guys need to be alone?” Gladio joked aloud from the couch. “Oh, Tiny, trust me: you’ll turn into putty when your turn comes.”

She then gently patted his forehead with the now cooled down cloth before rinsing out the leave-in conditioner and wrung the excess water out a second time.

“Wakey wakey, Ig,” she spoke softly and squeezed his upper arm. He flicked his eyes open in a daze. “My apologies. Must’ve dozed off.”

He held the hair towel firmly around his head and made his way over to the barber seat on the far right. (Y/N) dried him off and massaged his shoulder before getting to work on his hair. “Holy Titan. They’re tougher than the rocks by Coernix Bypass,” she grunted aloud, working on one of the stubborn knots by his shoulder blade. Ignis sucked in a breath and released one of relief, trying his best to not let another moan slip. “You do this with every one?” the prince off-handedly commented. “Special service for the Crownsguard and his majesty only,” she replied with a smirk through the mirrored wall. “They have it tough enough out there protecting you. They need a load off. Ah… There it is.”

Her hand danced over to a specific point on the right side of his shoulder and placed firm pressure on it with her knuckles; he let out a stifled and quiet groan of pleasure, feeling the apples of his cheeks get warm. The guys couldn’t help but snicker again.

“It’s rare to see specs react like this,” said a very amused Noct with a lopsided grin. “Man, I wish this had video recording functions,” the blond boy lamented and looked at his camera. “But I’ll settle for pictures.”

After the quick massage, she got down to business in trimming Ignis’ hair.

“So (Y/N), what ‘bout your job with Ultima?” Gladio enquired. “Doubt you’d wanna cut hair the rest of your life.” “Until the whole team can settle down n’ set up shop, everything’s on hold, including our paychecks,” she replied while brushing a part of his hair with a comb and delicately trimmed it with a pair of scissors. “I’m guessin’ we won’t be expectin’ any patch updates anytime soon then,” Prompto dejectedly guessed. “Sorry. Surviving takes precedent here.”

After twenty minutes, Mr. Scientia felt and looked like a brand new man; she even styled his hair the way he liked it.

“Well?” she asked and held a mirror in her hand so he could see the back of his head. “You’ve improved,” he praised and patted down the lower half of his hair as she playfully rolled her eyes and dusted him off with a barber’s brush from residual hair scraps.

With Ignis’ verbal seal of approval, the rest of the boys were more comfortable and given the same treatment, massages and all. Gladio felt like he was seconds away from pinning (Y/N) down to ravage her in front of them with the way she worked the tightness of his back muscles and hissed out profanities like they were having rough sex. Prompto basked in every second with the most content grin. Even Noct, the squirmiest of the group, was totally unwound. After a bit over an hour, the four splayed out on the seats and sofa completely at ease from the troubles of the world.

“(Y/N)...” Prompto drolled out almost in a slurring manner. “Where did you learn to do that?” “Pressure points and reflexology knowledge come in handy with things other than paralyzing a target, y’know,” she smugly replied and wiped her hands off with a towel. “Marry me...” he proposed, only to be met with a light chuckle. “Tell me that when you’re lucid, dude.”

There was something about the atmosphere in this city that made them completely let loose, despite Niflheim invading. (Y/N) took the time to clean up the scraps of cut hair and threw the used towels into the laundry bin. Feeling rejuvenated and relaxed, they five made their way out to one of the many restaurants around for dinner. While waiting for their food to arrive, they talked over some beer.

“So what brings you to Lestallum anyway?” she asked. “I thought you were gonna ferry over to Altissia from Galdin Quay.” “The boats conveniently stopped running when we got there,” Ignis bitterly replied. “Noct then received a call from Iris after Crown City fell and decided to rendezvous here.” “We’ll be hittin’ the road tomorrow n’ taking her with us,” Gladio added. “Jared told Talcott King Regis has a safe house n’ a boat stashed out in Cape Caem before he...”

The burly man trailed off and looked down at the table, trying his best to hide the pain of losing the trusted family butler. “Jared was a very strong and kind man… He didn’t deserve that. I’m very sorry.” “Were you here when it happened?” Gladio asked in a low, serious voice. She shook her head. “I was on a foraging trip and only heard ‘bout it when I got back. It wasn’t fair… And just another reason to exact revenge.” “We blew up one of their bases,” Noct replied, almost in a bragging way. “I heard that too.”  Ignis immediately cut in and realized something.

“The photo requests of the bases From Vyv… You’re his anonymous tipster.” She looked at him with a small smile, replied with a “Maybe” and shrugged her shoulders. “But were you really gonna raid it yourself?” Prompto asked. “Yes.” “Still a stupid idea,” Gladio remarked and crossed his arms. “You dunno what they’re capable of.” “I know they have exactly four MA-Veles guarding a yet to be functional frequency jammer with a MA-X Cuirass. The shifts of the soldiers change every 20 minutes with a crap ton of Swordsmans, snipers and Shock Troopers stationed at almost all the corners of Fortmouth Garrison.” “You saw this just by surveying that one day?” Ignis asked with a tone of surprise. “Do you really think my ‘foraging’ trips are just as they are?” “Look, we’re not gonna try stoppin’ you...” the guard began. “So don’t.” Noticing the growing irritation on his face, Ignis decided to interject and play the intermediary. “What Gladio’s trying to say is weigh out your options and risks before acting, even if you’ve come up with a plan. Consider the feelings of those who’ve grown to care for you here if something were to happen. How would you repay their kindness if you’re dead?”

(Y/N) exhaled a long breath through her nose and sat back in the plastic chair with crossed arms, mildly squeezing her eyes closed.

“I hate you all.” “Whatever for?” “Implanting a conscience and moral compass in me,” she flatly answered. “You’re making it hard to be dark and broody.” “That’s what we’re here for!” Prompto beamed with a toothy smile. “Argh, the light...” (Y/N) deadpanned and mockingly shielded her face from him.

Their food order finally came through and feasted over Spicy Skewers, Offal Stew, and Bird-Broth Rice with Curry. With their stomachs full, they all leisurely strolled around town to take in the night life. Gladio nudged Noct’s arm and gestured with his head at Ignis’ direction with (Y/N). The crown prince took the hint.

“I’m gonna head back to the hotel,” he announced. “I’m sleepy.” “N’ I wanna get in a few rounds of ���King’s Knight’ before I turn in,” Prompto added. “I’ll join ‘em,” Gladio offered. “Sure you two got stuff to catch up on.” “Well, that wasn’t subtle,” (Y/N) commented and watched the three brothers trek off into the night. “It was never their forte.”

The two softly laughed and went off in the other direction at a slow, casual pace. They saw several of the EXTERNIS workers grab a late dinner and drinks after their shift.

As they walked on, (Y/N) mentally reminded herself this will be the last time she’ll see Ignis before going dark. Keeping her distance would be the best for his safety and perhaps, the way to forget him.

But could she really do it?