#her fucking?? leopard print shirt all her fits are so good i immediately had to draw her

[just-spacetrash]

🕵️

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

[another-bloody-multimuse]

CRUELLA DE VIL - What is your muse’s fashion style? for everyone because I love clothes headcanons

Disney villain asks!

Penelope: A combination of fancy/expensive jewellery and casual clothing. Usually with some level of cleavage on display. Think gold, precious stones (fake diamonds, though), ridiculously tall high heels, painted nails. Usually in different shades of pink. Darker pinks accompanied with black, lighter pinks accompanied with complimentary colours or white. Clothes are often figure hugging, albeit not ridiculously skin tight.

The extravagance/expense is toned down a lot for main verse/Team Skull Pen, though is still in full force for her Team Magma and Flare incarnations. Flare Pen specifically is also often seen in oranges and blacks, as fitting of someone often seen hanging off Lysandre Delannoy's arm. A hint of alternative fashion in Skull Pen's look, or "goth lite" basically, thanks to Guzma's influence.

Examples: [x] [x] [x]

Alder: Comfort is king, so his clothes are easy to move in. And sometimes a little on the shabby side, as well. Doesn't really bother if things are a touch of the threadbare side, and likes the aesthetic a poncho gives him. Often chooses quite neutral colours, shades of whites, blacks, beige. Maybe with a bit of pale orange thrown in to compliment his hair colour, too.

Knit sweatshirts, maybe a long-ish cardigan over a t-shirt.

Examples: [x] [x] [x]

Guzma: Baggy, black and white, with maybe a bit of gold or purple thrown in for good measure. Tries to go for a typical "hard man"/"gangster" type look. Sometimes with big, chunky gold chains, drop crotch joggers, trainers, akin to his canon look. Sometimes a more punk aesthetic, in a Sex Pistols vibe. Albeit accidentally, since they were before his time.

Piercings, partially shaved hairstyles, tattoos, spikes all appeal, too. Doesn't have any real tattoos yet, but will probably get some in the future. Doesn't have any immediately visible piercings. I'll, uh, let you come to your own conclusions there.

Oh, and rude shirts. Can be rude because it's just the word "FUCK" in giant letters, can be rude because it's offensive and/or sexually crude. If it's a t-shirt you wouldn't want someone to wear around your kids, it'll suit Guzma perfectly.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x]

Océane: A toned down version of Pen. She'll occasionally rock some expensive jewellery, but her tastes are generally less ridiculously priced and more down to earth. Lavenders and lilacs are popular with her, as are form fitting t-shirts and jeans. Often seen with short nails and a natural makeup look.

Jewellery tastes are usually kept to something black and gold. Not opposed to wearing heels, though as no stranger to working hard gardening, the nail polish and heels are much less of a guarantee with her than, say, Pen or Oleana.

Formalwear depends on the type of event. She has been seen dressed up to the nines as expected of someone from a royal bloodline, in a red and black theme, but sometimes if appropriate will wear a white trouser suit, with some gold jewellery on the more understated side of things.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Sinclair: Sinclair basically has two modes when it comes to his dress sense. Suave, sophisticated, formal. Or a Pokeverse Joe Lycett.

Sinclair is quite typical of a Rich Person, with no qualms about spending obscene amounts of money on ridiculously expensive clothing. Out of his siblings (Océane and Lysandre @nats-rp-world), he's the least down to earth by far. Signet rings, ridiculous amounts of gold and precious gems (though was probably talked out of real diamond jewellery). Waistcoats, cufflinks, shiny shoes, ties, you get the idea. In cool greys and blues.

And then Pokeverse Joe Lycett Mode is. Well. Anything goes. Fluffy, hot pink, leopard or zebra print, leather, sunglasses

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Ghetsis: Oh. Oh God. Where do I even begin?

Pre-Plasma, he probably favoured expensive suits and jewellery similar to Sinclair when dressed as a human being and not a Muppet. With the addition of sunglasses regardless of the weather/location to hide his scarred eye. During and post-Plasma, however, when he stopped giving a fuck, he leant hard into his occult aesthetic and basically started dressing like the evil cult leader that he became.

While he has an interest in occult/supernatural/paranormal symbolism in general, his personal aesthetic has always been toward eyes, including Turkish nazars and the Egyptian Eye of Horus.

Plasma-era Ghetsis favoured long, elaborately made flowing robes, especially ones that allowed his scarred arm to be concealed completely, and/or ones with a very high collar to hide his lopsided mouth. And yet still had the audacity to pretend not to be completely evil. My man is not subtle.

Post-Plasma Dennis is just as up his own butthole with fancy, elaborate clothing. Just more with a royal theme, because hey, now everyone knows that he was the team's true king, why not lean into that particular aesthetic? Other than all the reasons of being a decent human being that we can immediately think of. Some kind of half cape or a way to hide his injured arm, gloves included, are still very much welcomed.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Lance: Capes, capes, capes, capes, capes, capes. My boy loves a good cape.

Often seen in his dragon master outfit, or a variation of it, which there are several. Normally in dark blues, a bit of orange, and a black and red cape. Though he does have an outfit that's more red than blue, as well, ala LGPE. Though in the summers, he's more likely to be seen wearing traditional garb instead, to try and keep cool.

He favours a red, white and gold version of the outfit, due to his own Gyarados being shiny. But he does also have a black and blue version.

For shits and giggles, he also got a version of his dragon master outfit in the colours of Dragonite, though it hasn't seen much use yet. Not after Cynthia found out about it and mercilessly took the piss.

Has probably leant into his black and red (ish) cape's aesthetic to dress up as a vampire on Hallowe'en. A more casual outfit tends to be simple, jeans, jacket, t-shirt and boots. Something that can be easily thrown on.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Giovanni: Suits all the way. Giovanni likes to look good, and he's damn well aware of when he does. Suits range from form to business casual, maybe sometimes with a turtleneck in lieu of a shirt. His outfits scream class and sophistication.

The mob boss look of a fedora and long coat has been retired, but he still appreciates the aesthetic.

And then sometimes he just dads out in Hawaiian shirts, shorts and sandals. No socks, though, he's not a complete heathen.

Silver must be so proud.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Marnie: Black teamed with pastel pink, leather, spikes. Basically punk aesthetic. Marnie joins Guzma in an appreciation for tattoos, shaved hairstyles and piercings, and like Ghetsis (no, I didn't expect this comparison, either), has an interest in occult symbolism. Though Marnie's interests more lie in witchcraft than general occultism.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Mustard: Sports jackets and jaunty hats. Like Alder, Mustard prefers clothes that are easy to move in. Which is understandable, given the fact that this is a ripped old man who is still in sufficient shape to perform fuckin' flips and shit.

He's often seen exercising in a karate gi. Barefoot if he's in the dojo, and in trainers if he's outside. Which granted, don't really go together, but it's Mustard. Eccentric old man gives zero fucks.

As well as the hat he's seen in game, he also takes a shine to pork pie and bowler hats. Usually in darker colours, but brightened up with a nice teal, or yellow. Sometimes he'll sport a t-shirt with something silly/funny on it. Though unlike Guzma, his can actually be appropriately worn in public.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Rose: Professional Farhad favours fancy suits, usually in a sleek grey, accented with red. A suit in general will do the job for him when he has to look formal, but that's definitely his preferred signature look. No matter what, however, his tie will be sporting a rose knot. The rose knot is non-negotiable. Partly for the obvious reason of relating to his name, but also because it just looks damn impressive.

He often keeps an earring in one ear and a lot of the time it's an impressive looking stud, but unlike the more pretentious (or wanky) muses like Ghetsis or Sinclair, Farhad doesn't care about getting the real deal, the most expensive thing. A simple stud or hoop is plenty sufficient.

Professional mode or not, he's also not even slightly afraid to rock some eyeliner. It makes him look amazing and he doesn't give a shit about how "socially acceptable" it is for a man, and doesn't try and make it sound more masculine by referring to it as "guyliner".

When partaking in religious holidays, he opts for a simple black yarmulke.

Casual Rose isn't quite as eye-bleedingly horrible as in the past. He might still try and disguise himself with a pair of sunglasses and a change of wardrobe, but no more eye-watering polka dot shorts. His non-professional wear leans more toward business casual nowadays, seeing how "incognito mode" never really worked. So on a day to day basis, he's seen in polo shirts and jeans, often in varying shades of purple or red.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Leon: Who wears short shorts? Leon wears short shorts! Leon is often seen in clothes that can be easily exercised in. Partly because he does a lot of it, and partly because he likes that they tend to draw attention to his figure. Little shirts, tight tops and one of the many, many hats from his collection.

He is also a fan of neon 80s patterns. Particularly the neon ones that look like the carpet in an arcade. He also genuinely enjoys a nice regal, fur lined cape. It's just a shame that he decided to plaster sponsorships all over the back of it...

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Peony: In contrast to the bright orange expedition outfit that he debuted in, Peony's fashion sense is quite toned down and dark. Greys and black mainly. During his teens, however, he was another one for punk fashion.

Like Rose, he also unashamedly wears makeup, and is occasionally seen with a yarmulke during holidays (Hashem verse only).

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x]

Oleana: Minus the odd choker that Oleana enjoys wearing, her fashion sense is more often than not kept looking professional, in shades of red and black. Rose themed jewellery is a lot of the time considered too "on the nose", but every now and then she'll indulge.

She keeps her nails professionally manicured, painted red, and short. And similarly to Pen, has a penchant for high heels.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Maxie: A lot of the times, Maxie keeps it simple in the Hoenn heat, in just shirts and shorts. Accompanied by socks and sandals, unfortunately. But still. He finds the whole disgust of socks/sandals to be overdone, and therefore won't let it stop him from wearing them if he wants to.

And then sometimes he'll find something really truly, spectacularly hideous and be unable to resist buying it just for shits and giggles.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x]

Bede:

This probably goes without saying.

Any and all shades of pink are fair game for Bede, usually with blue jeans and white trainers, for everyday wear. He likes to accessorise with the gold watch from Rose, and a choker, either plain black, or in subtle bi pride colours depending on how confident he's feeling about his sexuality. He also has his ears pierced, and an industrial bar through one.

Also, being a teenage edgelord, it's not unexpected to see him in tops that have slogans like "I don't care", "I hate everyone", or something else equally delightful printed on the front.

A few things with a rose on them are in his wardrobe as well, because... well, Father.

And the toe shoes have long since been binned.

Examples: [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] 

[penciltrash-blog]

Love Happens by LoveActually-rps

[Yuri on Ice, Otayuri, Soulmates AU] Read on AO3 

@otayuriwriterscollective

“Your soulmate is dead, Otabek.”

The boy barked right in his face and Otabek watched him with furious eyes, clenching his fingers into a fist, shaking.

He didn’t exactly understand the meaning of the word - dead, he was only four, but when it was getting thrown at you in the middle of a fight, like some stone, then it definitely wasn’t going to be something good.

Before Otabek could get his senses back and act on his instincts, he was dragged away from the bullying boy by his class teacher. As teacher Lilia soothed him with calm words and then warned him in a firm tone, Otabek could only stare at the tan skin of his wrist, unconsciously rubbing a thumb against his pathetically blank wrist.

When your soulmate’s first words to you were supposed to be tattooed on your wrist, a blank wrist was quite intriguing and an open invitation to be teased.

Otabek’s wrist was missing a soulband.

Every single person in his acquaintance had a soulband, God, even JJ had a soulband, then why not him? Otabek wondered.

Otabek’s mom tried to convince him by suggesting a few possibilities. One of them sounded quite convincing - maybe, his soulmate was yet to be born.

When Otabek didn't budge, his mother tried diverting his mind with some poetic stories about how our loved ones would turn into stars after life, always shining in the sky, always readily available when you missed them the most.

It was a lie. He understood two years later when his grandma passed away and he couldn’t find solace in the midst of the gloomy, dark sky. He’d cried his eyes out for three days straight. He missed his grandma. He missed his non existent soulmate even more.

When he turned fourteen and still didn't have the soulband, the ‘soulmate was yet to be born’ option was almost completely ruled out. He was sure he wasn't going to meet his soulmate. Ever.

As the years passed he witnessed Mila chewing his ear off, screaming about meeting her soulmate in summer camp. He watched with amused eyes while his baby sister recognized her soulmate when his friend Phichit addressed her - “Hello Tia” instead of Mia.

The elders of the family always shared funny, mesmerizing stories about meeting their other halves. Of course, Otabek liked listening to those, even when he’d heard them before. He was happy for every single person around him, but sometimes he felt lonely...and hollow, as if he was missing his soul and not just some stupid mark of his wrist.

He met Yuuri Katsuki when he turned eighteen.

Yuuri was the sweetest person he’d ever come across. He had the heart of a cupcake and the charm of a fox. And most importantly, his wrist was blank.

They both immediately clicked over their non-soulband bond. It was Yuuri who showed him the other side of life, the not so pathetic side.

“Everyone can’t have a dreamy romance, Otabek,” he had said. “But that doesn’t mean you have to stop dreaming.”

Over a year Otabek watched him silently blush at the slightest mention of Viktor’s name, who apparently shared a soul bond with Christophe.

Otabek’s heart twisted in his chest for his best friend. But the smile on Yuuri’s face never faded. He was perfectly okay having Viktor as just-a-friend. He was glad having him in his life in some way, Otabek knew that.

Then one day he heard the news about Christophe moving to Switzerland, leaving permanently, never to return.

Otabek couldn’t make up his mind whether to feel happy for Yuuri or to feel bad for Viktor.

Otabek watched Viktor sulking over his soulmate’s absence for years and for the first time, Otabek felt lucky for having a blank wrist. He’d rather that than looking at a soulband everyday, every single minute and breaking piece by piece over what he could never have. It was Yuuri who helped the silver haired man to heal his shattered heart.

Otabek was the happiest person when, finally, Viktor asked him on a date, even happier than Yuuri was. Otabek felt as if something might have mended in his own heart.

******

“Please don’t tell me you forgot the passes.” Yuuri warily looked at him, raising his hand to fix the spikes of Otabek’s hair.

“I uh...” Otabek searched his suit pockets, one more time. God, it was summer and he was already feeling frustrated about having to wear these thick clothes. He hadn't even gotten a chance to look at the passes before leaving for the Central auditorium for the charity show.

Viktor and his some cousin were active volunteers of the charity and Viktor had invited Yuuri and his best friend to attend the show.

Otabek loathed the day he’d agreed to this the moment Yuuri asked him to dress up in smart clothes. It looked like it was a big deal for Viktor, so obviously it was for Yuuri. Otabek hadn’t even paid attention to him when he’d excitedly spoken about the event and how Viktor’s cousin - Yuri with a single u - was performing in the show.

“Got it,” Otabek shouted in relief, handing over the closed envelope into Yuuri’s safe hands.

They entered the dining hall where the organizers had arranged pre-show snacks.

Otabek was literally sweating in the heavily crowded area. He loosened his tie and pretended to enjoy the food on his plate.

For Yuuri. For Yuuri. For Yuuri, he mentally recited.

He scowled at everyone who came within two feet of him, before his eyes caught the sight of a boy, hungrily stuffing an entire pirozhok in his mouth. Otabek swallowed, feeling sorry for his poor throat.

After that, Otabek couldn’t take his eyes off the green eyed boy. He was wearing tightly fitting black and white clothes that had leopard print around his shirt sleeves, possibly a mime artist then, who even wore half-finished make up, probably in his rush to get to the food. Otabek couldn’t help but notice the way his cosmetic blushes turned even deeper pink, sinking in the irritating heat. So far, he’d completely spoiled his dark red lipstick, eating it along with his food, licking his lips. Otabek literally had to snatch his gaze away from those smudged, perfect lips.

For Yuuri. For Yuuri. For Yuuri…What was he doing?

He got up from his seat to dump his already empty plate in a bin. He tried to indulge himself by fetching an icy coke can. At that moment, he wouldn’t have minded taking a snow bath.

The moment he turned around from the counter in his haste to find some cool space, he collided with an extra-large glass of chocolate milkshake, sticky, wet and Ah...cold. At least something was in his favor.

He grudgingly looked down at his ruined suit as the milkshake seeped through the silky material of his shirt, Perfect. He jerked his head up to face the owner of the drink.

It was the mime artist, of course, who gaped at Otabek's damaged clothes. He was looking him up and down, his hands flailing everywhere, his eyes wide.

“Aren’t you even going to say sorry?” Otabek groaned.

The boy blinked, looking completely taken aback for a moment. Then suddenly, he creased his eyebrows as if he’d tasted something sour. He twisted his palms in weird directions, dancing his slender fingers right in front of Otabek’s face, making him take a step back.

“Yuri!”

Suddenly Yuuri was there, moving into the space between them. “Hey, hey, what happened? Why are you calling Otabek an asshole?”

“What? Me? Ass-” Otabek’s mood was ruined, just like his suit. He stepped closer, trying to push past Yuuri. “He didn’t even apologize,” Otabek complained like a five year old.

“Otabek!” Yuuri gasped. He gripped his elbow, tugging him a few steps away.

“What?” Otabek couldn’t understand why Yuuri was giving him the disappointed-mom looks and not saying anything to the real culprit, who just stood there, clenching his jaw, shooting angry glances at Otabek.

“He can’t speak, you dafoos.”

Yuuri’s words felt like a tight slap. “We’re at a charity show organized by the Deaf and Mute school. I told you Yuri was performing. Did you even listen to me?”

Fuck!

Otabek really, thoroughly felt like an asshole now.

It took him a few moments to gather the courage to glance at Yuri. He was still glaring at him.

“I uh- I’m sorry,” Otabek replied to Yuuri, but held other Yuri's gaze.

Yuri’s eyes fluttered into something soft. He nodded, immediately accepting Otabek’s apology.

Yuuri moved towards Yuri then. Otabek lingered behind his back, hesitantly watching them share a conversation using sign language. Yuuri was using his words, so Otabek realized that Yuri was able to hear at least.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god,” Yuuri started squealing like a dying whale. “Otabek!” he turned, clutching his arms, almost jumping on the spot.

“Yuuri?” Otabek was scared.

“Yuri's saying...he’s saying,” he struggled to catch his breath. “He’s your soulmate, Otabek.”

Otabek felt as if lightning had struck his brain.

He wasn't supposed to have a soulmate. Hell, he thought his soulmate was dead, without saying his first words to him. And then everything started making sense.

When he looked at Yuri again, the boy was scratching the back of his neck, gazing at Otabek with warm, shy eyes. Otabek’s eyes followed his action, tracking the distinct, dark words etched on the boy’s pale wrist -

Aren’t you even going to say sorry?

And for the second time now, Otabek felt lucky for having a blank wrist.

“You're an asshole” wasn't quite the soulband that Otabek wanted to carry on his wrist all his life.

******

It took Otabek a few minutes to learn the sign language for - I Love You.

It took him three months to gather the courage to show it off to Yuri.

[streetkings-rp]

majima goro, 3/?

response to this.

NOTE: I have not finished Yakuza 0, and have been avoiding any sort of spoilers to the main storyline. Some things in this post might not align with what happens in-game… but, at least I’m working on finishing the game now, though!

- - - - - - - - -

Tch, is this too much? Majima frowned, straightening his necktie and stepping back to look at his reflection in the mirror. He felt a bit restricted in the fitted charcoal suit, and deep red button-up—Majima preferred the comfortability of being bare-chested in his flowing snakeskin blazer, instead. Gotta look sharp, he smoothed out the collar of his shirt, and gave himself another look over. “This better be good ‘nough,” Majima muttered, bringing out a cigarette to his lips, and lighting it. “Whadda I say, huh?” he blew out a long puff of smoke. It’d been twenty-two years since he’d seen Yusa—it felt like almost a lifetime ago. So much had happened in those years, and he honestly didn’t know how he’d address his long absence from her life. Their chance encounter that day in the parking lot was his lucky chance to make things right—Goro, don’t fuck this up.

Checking the time on his phone, it was about time he hightailed it to Pronto. Majima looked at his pummeling bat leaning against his desk—there better not be any buttballs disruption’ our date. The last thing he’d want Yusa to see was him getting shook down and there were some annoying goons loitering around Taihei Blvd. Akio’s buddy got served the other day and lost all the money he had on him—for his own pride, Majima visited those petty thugs and took the money back, of course. But there he encountered a looming 7-feet tall monstrosity named Kenji, who preferred to go by the pseudonym of “Mr. Shakedown”. He didn’t want to admit it, but if it weren’t for that pummeling bat, he’d probably lose all the money he had on himself, too.

“Eh, that kid prolly went to bed…” Majima tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants, cigarette still snug in-between his lips, and he left his office in the Millennium Tower. Luckily, the bar was only past Taihei Blvd., so he could get to Pronto a bit early and—

“Eh, if it ain’t Majima-san!” Speak of the devil. Majima turned around slowly, groaning aloud when he saw the giant of a man jogging up to him. Seriously? “Yo, Majima-san! Don’tcha look all nice this evenin’! Gotta lucky date?” the big kid grinned while Majima flicked his cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the bottom of his heel.

“Matter of fact, I do. Ya’ mind leavin’ me alone tonight?” He already knew this fight was unavoidable, but he was still good on time.

“No friggin’ way,” Kenji laughed. “I know you’ve got a lot on ya’, Majima-san… and all that’s gonna be mine!” Kenji flexed his gargantuan muscles, cracking his knuckles as he prepared to fight. Damn, this’d be waaaay easier with my bat. Majima cracked his neck from side-to-side, and immediately dodged Kenji’s tackling attempt.

“Oi, oi, oi,” Majima evaded another tackle, followed up with the attempts of a roundhouse kick and a few powerful punches. The sheer power behind Kenji’s moves were enough to land him a visit to Emoto’s Clinic, so Majima had to stay guarded and light on his toes. “That all ya’ got?” Majima taunted, smirking when Kenji lost his composure and geared up for another tackle.

“Graaaaaaahhhhh!” the boy’s voice echoed, as he charged towards Majima.

“Sorry, Kenji-chan—I’m gonna make this quick!” Majima side-stepped again, this time grabbing a bicycle from the bike rack next to him. Shit’s gonna hurt real bad—but, I told the kid I was ’sorry’. What goes ‘round comes ‘round. Heh. With the bicycle hoisted over his head, Majima slammed it into Kenji as he collided into it head-on. The kid fell backwards, groaning. Just to be sure… Majima drove down his knee into Kenji’s abdomen for the perfect knockout. “That should teach ya’ from stealin’ from folks,” Majima stood up, loosening his tie and combing his fingers through his hair. “Shit, I’m gonna be late!” he started picking up his pace to Pronto now.

- - - - - - - - -

Evening out his breath, Majima stepped into the small bar. Pronto had a nice warm atmosphere, the piano jazz music was easy on the ears, and the bar was lit well enough for him to see Yusa sitting at the bar. He took a moment to appreciate the woman before him—her Jigoku Dayu tattoo exposed, as the back of her leopard-printed dress dipped low enough to tease him by showing a hint of her lower back dimples. Despite the flashy and haughty presence she exuded to the world, Majima knew it hid that tenderness he still knew was there.

“There ya’ are,” he approached her, baiting in his breath when she turned to face him—it were as though the world was set in slow motion, he almost lost his breath again. “Have ya’ been waitin’ long—“

Slap.

Well, he certainly didn’t see that one coming—Majima brought a hand up to his stinging cheek. Patrons around them were murmuring now, some even gasping and gesturing towards them—they all should really mind their own damn business.

“Okay, I deserved that. Can we just,” he motioned towards the seats behind her at the bar. “Sit down an’ have a talk? I just wanna share a drink with ya’, an’ if ya’ feel like beatin’ me up some more, we can take it outside.” He’d never physically hurt her, but if she needed to take out her anger towards him, he deserved it. He deserved all of it and more. She bit her bottom lip now, backing off and taking her seat from earlier—Majima carefully sat next her.

“What would you like, sir?” the barkeep approached them.

“Somethin’ with cognac and a bit a’ brandy, please.” Majima sighed and looked over to Yusa, she had her head hanging down, looking at her hands perched on her lap. When he heard her suppress a sniffle, he looked away. He needed to break the ice. “Ya’ better eat that salad o’ yours before it gets all wilted.” Shit—did I just nag her!? “If ya’ ain’t hungry, that’s okay, too.”

“Sir, your drink,” the barkeep saved him. “Miss, would you like another?”

“No, I’m good.” Yusa replied, picking up her fork again to prod at the mozzarella in her salad.

As the barkeep stepped away, they sat in momentary silence. Selfishly he wanted to focus on having a good time, keep the drinks flowing, and continue to look forward to the future. However, he knew he owed Yusa the truth, especially after all the shit she went through because of him. Images of her suffering haunted him to this day, but he prayed she’d move on with her life. For the longest time he convinced himself she didn’t need a good for nothing man like him. What was so special about him, anyways?

“I was scared, y’know…” Majima let out a sad, embarrassed chuckle. He was ashamed at how scared he was of the man—even to this day that fear, deep down, was still ever present. Shimano was capable of incredible cruelty, and he didn’t want Yusa to be hurt because of him. “He knew, Shimano knew… about us. And I didn’t think I had it in me to take him on ‘cos too many things were on the line at the time… I didn’t want you gettin’ involved with the Shimano family, so I ended things an’ high tailed it outta there. That was one of the hardest things I had to do,” he smiled sadly, holding his glass up to clink with Yusa’s. “Now here we are… 20-some years later, and that is deserving of a cheers—cheers!”

Clink.

“I got ahead of myself for a minute there, an’ got a little too deep, seems like,” Majima tried to keep his face into that of a grin, but was inwardly giddy that Yusa clinked her glass with his. Even if it was done begrudgingly. “It’s selfish, I know, but I feel like the timing of us meeting means something. Our paths hadn’t crossed for over 20 years, and here we find each other in Kamurocho… Remember when we sang ‘Pure Love in Kamurocho’ back in Sotenbori?”

“Don’t even start—“ Yusa began, a bit weary of the crazy grin Majima now fashioned in his excitement.

“Now that we’re here in Kamurocho, with the night still young, let’s do a reprise of that song! C’mon, Yusa-chan! There’s a great karaoke place that even has that song in the playlist. ♡”

[silverlight013]

Final Fantasy XV: Ebony and Fire

Chapter 1

My eyes flutter open to the sound of muffled arguing voices. I try to hone in but I can't make out the words. My vision is blurry at first, but then it starts to clear.

Where am I…

"Look, she's awake!" I try to sit up but something, a hand, pushes me back down by my shoulder. The hand moves from my shoulder to my forehead and seems to feel to see if I have a fever. The hand is cool to the touch and I close my eyes briefly as I welcome the cold. My body seems to be radiating with heat.

Ugh…I'm so warm…and I feel like I got hit by a bus…

"Can you hear me?" I open my eyes at the male British voice and look up. The hand disappears and I follow it next to me where a man is sitting. He seems to be in his twenties and is very lean. I look up toward his face and notice his glasses as they refract the light. I nod at him as the glare disappears to reveal two piercing emerald eyes. My breath catches slightly; I've never seen eyes like these. They seem to pierce my very soul, but in a way…they make me feel comfortable…warm. My heart quickens slightly and I can feel my face heat up. I peel myself away from his eyes and take in the rest of him. His hair is tawny, but styled upward; though it doesn't stick directly up. It's just…slicked back…it's…hard to explain, but it looks good on him. Makes me wonder how it would look if it was down…He's dressed in a purpleish-black leopard print button up shirt that's rolled up to his elbows. Through the collar I can spy a small black skull necklace. Well that's odd, that doesn't really fit with what I'm seeing. I wonder if it was a gift…He looks at me for a second and then sighs as he pulls a black and silver glove over his hand, it's now that I realize his other one had been gloved the entire time. It seems like he only took one off to feel for a fever. "You were out for quite some time you know, we were all getting rather worried."

We?

I pull the comforter up to my chin and look about the room. My eyes stop at the foot of the bed where a group of three boys are standing. Well, not boys they seem to be in their twenties. One boy; well, man, is taller than the other two by a lot and is jacked. His arms are folded and he's in a tank top. I can see his muscles rippling underneath it. There is a chain around his neck that falls to about his chest that connects with some sort of 'X' pendant. It almost reminds me of a rosary. Under the tank seems to be what looks like wing tattoos across his arms. I shudder at the thought of how much pain that must have been. Woah, ouch…My own tattoo was pretty painful and that is only about the size of my fist. I can't imagine something that big. I glance up to his face and he waves his hand gently, the hand he waves has a single glove on it, but it's not complete. It looks more like a brace of some sort…or a glove that's only purpose is to protect from calluses, it looks weird. I dig down a little more into the covers, nervous, as I meet his eyes. They're a golden brown and are as equally comforting as they are intimidating. Like I wouldn't wanna piss him off because he could destroy me… He also has a scar that runs across the one that's my right. I cringe again. Damn…how did that happen? His hair is slicked back, but it's longer than the man to my left's and he seems to have shaved the sides by his ears. He has a bit of a beard as well, but when I look at it I meet his eyes on accident and shift briskly to the next boy.

The boy in the middle is standing with his weight on one foot; his hands are in front of him and are resting lightly on his white belt. He glances from the ceiling down to me and meets my eyes. My breath catches slightly at I see at how blue his eyes are. So pretty... His features get softer as his mouth peels up into a smile. His smile makes me less nervous and I come out of the blanket a bit. As the light catches his face freckles appear , giving him a sort of cute young look. His hair is blonde and seems to stick up on one side like he went to bed with his hair wet, it makes me smile back. I look him up and down and take in his sense of style. His shirt is black but seems to have a white or silver maze pattern that goes through it. He has a bandanna on his right arm, my left, and his hands are covered by black gloves and a few bracelets. His hands are still resting on his white belt that's looped through black-no I think that's actually leopard print skinny jeans. I look back up to his eyes, seeing as how the end of the bed keeps me from seeing what he has on his feet. His smile fades slightly as a sadness shoots through him, but it's gone just as fast as it came and I can only imagine that it was because of how messed up I must look…

My eyes shift to the boy next to the blonde; this boy has blackish-blue hair that seems to be spiked in the back, and is dressed in all black. Our eyes meet and my heart aches, his eyes are so blue and…they look so sad…so…depressed, so tired. I know that feeling; where something is weighing down on you so much that you're just exhausted and it shows in every aspect of your being…The boy frowns slightly, like he's wondering why I'm staring at him, so I drop his eyes. His black attire seems to be a long sort of short sleeved jacket that reaches down past my view, a t-shirt with a skull pattern around the neck, and pants that seem to be like lounge-ish low-crotch pants…it's hard to actually tell what they are. He folds his arms and shifts his weight to one foot, I notice that one of his hands has a glove that reaches to mid-forearm, it looks padded and the fingers are cut off. Is it for blocking?

I continue to look around the room; I seem to be in some sort of hotel room. Okay that's weird…and super not comforting…I don't even know where I am, or even where here is! A familiar feeling grips my chest and it gets harder to breathe.

"How is she doin' Iggy?" The brown haired mountain of a man addresses the man next to me in a sort of gruff voice.

Iggy? Is that seriously his name? That doesn't fit at all…maybe his name is really Ignatius…I guess in that scenario I'd call him Iggy too…

"I'm not quite sure…but she has obviously regained consciousness and her fever seems to have broken, so that is good news. Other than that I don't feel comfortable examining her until She gets here…"

She? That's awfully vague…I wonder who it is.

"Can she talk?" The voice seems to come from the black haired boy; I look at him then to 'Iggy.'

Iggy looks at me puzzled and then to the black haired boy and back. "I'm not sure. Can you say anything, dear?" I look up and into his emerald eyes.

What do they want me to say? Yes, I can talk, but where the fuck am I? It would be nice to know that…

"What's your name?" The black haired boy seems to be slightly agitated now. What did I do? "Where did you come from?" My brain tries to find the answers but there is some sort of block, everything is…fuzzy.

I…can't remember…how did I get here? I can't even remember what I was doing…The harder I try to remember the harder it gets to breathe and the bigger that tightness in my chest gets.

"Dude, chill, let her answer one question at a time." The voice seems to come from blondie, but I can't focus, I can't breathe.

Where am I? How did I get here? Where is home? Can I even get home? Who are these men? Have they done anything to me while I was unconscious? What will they do once I want to leave? Will they say that because they took care of me that I'm in their debt…where am I?

The questions pile up and up and the noise of the men talking draws further and further away until it's nothing but muffled voices. I sit up to try to be able to breathe easier, but I can't. I find myself leaning forward gripping my shirt as if it's choking me. I can't breathe. My vision blurs as tears form. No, not right now, this can't be happening. I can't fight it. I can't breathe.

"Ignis! Look!"

There seems to be shifting next to me and 'Ignis' kneels on the bed with one hand on my back and tries to look at me in the eyes for some sort of physical ailment, but I know he won't find one.

"What's wrong?" He seems to be nervous, but he's more concerned than anything else. I look at him through blurred vision as I gently begin to rock back and forth as my anxiety tears through me, ripping down all my protective walls so it can claw at my brain. My heart pounds in my chest as it tries to fight the monster gripping it. I have to say something; anything.

"I can't breathe." It all comes out as one word, but he seems to understand immediately as the tears fall to the comforter. He snaps his head to the other boys.

"Out now!"

I stare down at the blanket as they all seem to shuffle out and I hear the door close behind them. My sobs come in short bursts and it escalates until I feel like I'm screaming, but there is no sound. I try to calm myself, I try to focus on something and try to shut this down like I've done oh-so many times, but it's too late, the dam has burst and I have to ride it's wave until it's over. I feel the hands of 'Ignis' gently rub my back and he seems to have gathered what's happening.

"What do you want me to do?" His voice is calm and soothing, but it barely scratches the surface. My body is wracked with a monster that is eating away at my mind, destroying me from the inside, in times like these there are only two things that help; mind altering medication…and being held…

I don't think I can ask him to do that…but this needs to stop, nothing else is working. Can I even speak? My screams are so silent that I'm not sure my voice even works anymore…this fear of nothing, this anxiety has such a tight grip I don't think it will ever let go…All I want is to feel safe…to be held and told that it's okay. Please…just help me…

I feel pressure on my hand as he seems to take it in his and squeeze it lightly. I look up to him with tear filled eyes and as I try to hold everything in my lip quivers. I feel so helpless…I see that there is room in the way that he's sitting to just slide into an embrace. Ugh I don't want to do this…but I don't have a choice, my brain isn't capable of rational thought right now. Oh forgive me…

I pull my hand away from him and lean into his chest an place my head so I can hear his heartbeat and wrap my arms around his thin frame, he seems obviously surprised at first but then after a second I feel him softly place his hand on my back and he seems to hold me tightly as he rests his chin on my head. I feel like a child who has just woken up from a nightmare…

"Shhh, you're alright my dear, you're safe now. Nothing can harm you." His voice is soft and melodic; it hits a part in my brain that kick starts the recovery. His embrace is warm and it makes me feel safe as he holds me tight. I breathe him in with a breath and my nose is filled with a mix of coffee and cologne, whatever the cologne is, I like it and I'll have to see later what it is. The coffee smell however, I'm not too big of a fan of, but they blend alright.

I have no idea how long I sit there, wrapped in the arms of a stranger, but eventually my sobs quiet and I am able to quell and shut down the monster in my head, and return it to its cage. My brain is muddled and I'm beyond exhausted, but I manage to let go of him and wipe my tears away.

"I'm sorry you had to see that…I'll be okay now…" My voice is quiet and tired.

"Are you sure you're alright?" He still seems wary and like he's worried I'll break again at any second. I sigh; I'm used to this reaction.

"Yeah…just tired is all…"

"Perhaps you should rest again…" I nod as he moves from the bed back to the chair to give me some room. I lay back down and onto my left side so I can continue to face him.

"I hope I didn't scare them…"

"They'll be fine. Does that happen often?" He seems concerned and leans forward and places his hand on my exposed one, as if still trying to comfort me. It works.

"More than I'd like to admit, yes." I pull the covers over my shoulders a bit more and get comfortable; I can feel myself sliding toward sleep.

"And do you normally deal with it yourself?"

"Sometimes…" I yawn.

"Well, I guess I'll let you get some rest." He goes to stand but I grab his wrist without thinking.

"Hey, um, I-actually I don't know what to call you." I think his name is Ignis, but I wanna make sure.

He looks down at me and smiles warmly. "Ignis Scientia is my name, but you may call me Ignis." I nod and drop his wrist. "Did you need anything else?" I snuggle back down.

I should probably warn him about what happens after…

"Yeah…normally I sleep for like four hours after this…so you might want to wake me up in two, just so I don't freak anyone out." He nods and chuckles a little but I'm not sure what's so funny.

"I understand. Get some rest, I'll come wake you later." I nod as he leaves the room.

I adjust in the bed until I find its maximum comfort spot and sigh. Well that was embarrassing…I hope I didn't freak anyone out. I'm not sure what triggered that one…maybe just that I still don't know where I am or how I got here…or how to get home…but I guess on the bright side I feel a bit safer knowing that there is someone like him in the group…someone who will comfort a complete stranger with no problem…

As I feel myself slip into the void of sleep one name floats through my thoughts. Ignis Scientia…

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 /

Ko-fi |

[silverlight013]

Ebony and Fire

Chapter 1

My eyes flutter open to the sound of muffled arguing voices. I try to hone in but I can’t make out the words. My vision is blurry at first, but then it starts to clear.

               Where am I…

               “Look, she’s awake!”  I try to sit up but something, a hand, pushes me back down by my shoulder. The hand moves from my shoulder to my forehead and seems to feel to see if I have a fever. The hand is cool to the touch and I close my eyes briefly as I welcome the cold. My body seems to be radiating with heat.

               Ugh…I’m so warm…and I feel like I got hit by a bus…

               “Can you hear me?” I open my eyes at the male British voice and look up. The hand disappears and I follow it next to me where a man is sitting. He seems to be in his twenties and is very lean. I look up toward his face and notice his glasses as they refract the light. I nod at him as the glare disappears to reveal two piercing emerald eyes. My breath catches slightly; I’ve never seen eyes like these. They seem to pierce my very soul, but in a way…they make me feel comfortable…warm. My heart quickens slightly and I can feel my face heat up. I peel myself away from his eyes and take in the rest of him. His hair is tawny, but styled upward; though it doesn’t stick directly up. It’s just…slicked back…it’s…hard to explain, but it looks good on him. Makes me wonder how it would look if it was down…He’s dressed in a purpleish-black leopard print button up shirt that’s rolled up to his elbows. Through the collar I can spy a small black skull necklace. Well that’s odd, that doesn’t really fit with what I’m seeing. I wonder if it was a gift…He looks at me for a second and then sighs as he pulls a black and silver glove over his hand, it’s now that I realize his other one had been gloved the entire time. It seems like he only took one off to feel for a fever. “You were out for quite some time you know, we were all getting rather worried.”

               We?

               I pull the comforter up to my chin and look about the room. My eyes stop at the foot of the bed where a group of three boys are standing. Well, not boys they seem to be in their twenties. One boy; well, man, is taller than the other two by a lot and is jacked. His arms are folded and he’s in a tank top. I can see his muscles rippling underneath it. There is a chain around his neck that falls to about his chest that connects with some sort of ‘X’ pendant. It almost reminds me of a rosary. Under the tank seems to be what looks like wing tattoos across his arms. I shudder at the thought of how much pain that must have been. Woah, ouch…My own tattoo was pretty painful and that is only about the size of my fist. I can’t imagine something that big. I glance up to his face and he waves his hand gently, the hand he waves has a single glove on it, but it’s not complete. It looks more like a brace of some sort…or a glove that’s only purpose is to protect from calluses, it looks weird.  I dig down a little more into the covers, nervous,  as I meet his eyes. They’re a golden brown and are as equally comforting as they are intimidating. Like I wouldn’t wanna piss him off because he could destroy me… He also has a scar that runs across the one that’s my right. I cringe again. Damn…how did that happen? His hair is slicked back, but it’s longer than the man to my left’s and he seems to have shaved the sides by his ears. He has a bit of a beard as well, but when I look at it I meet his eyes on accident and shift briskly to the next boy.

               The boy in the middle is standing with his weight on one foot; his hands are in front of him and are resting lightly on his white belt. He glances from the ceiling down to me and meets my eyes. My breath catches slightly at I see at how blue his eyes are. So pretty... His features get softer as his mouth peels up into a smile. His smile makes me less nervous and I come out of the blanket a bit. As the light catches his face freckles appear , giving him a sort of cute young look. His hair is blonde and seems to stick up on one side like he went to bed with his hair wet, it makes me smile back. I look him up and down and take in his sense of style. His shirt is black but seems to have a white or silver maze pattern that goes through it. He has a bandana on his right arm, my left, and his hands are covered by black gloves and a few bracelets. His hands are still resting on his white belt that’s looped through black-no I think that’s actually leopard print skinny jeans. I look back up to his eyes, seeing as how the end of the bed keeps me from seeing what he has on his feet. His smile fades slightly as a sadness shoots through him, but it’s gone just as fast as it came and I can only imagine that it was because of how messed up I must look…

               My eyes shift to the boy next to the blonde; this boy has blackish-blue hair that seems to be spiked in the back, and is dressed in all black. Our eyes meet and my heart aches, his eyes are so blue and…they look so sad…so…depressed, so tired. I know that feeling; where something is weighing down on you so much that you’re just exhausted and it shows in every aspect of your being…The boy frowns slightly, like he’s wondering why I’m staring at him, so I drop his eyes. His black attire seems to be a long sort of short sleeved jacket that reaches down past my view, a t-shirt with a skull pattern around the neck, and pants that seem to be like lounge-ish  low-crotch pants…it’s hard to actually tell what they are. He folds his arms and shifts his weight to one foot, I notice that one of his hands has a glove that reaches to mid-forearm, it looks padded and the fingers are cut off. Is it for blocking?

               I continue to look around the room; I seem to be in some sort of hotel room. Okay that’s weird…and super not comforting…I don’t even know where I am, or even where here is! A familiar feeling grips my chest and it gets harder to breathe.

               “How is she doin’ Iggy?” The brown haired mountain of a man addresses the man next to me in a sort of gruff voice.

               Iggy? Is that seriously his name? That doesn’t fit at all…maybe his name is really Ignatius…I guess in that scenario I’d call him Iggy too…

               “I’m not quite sure…but she has obviously regained consciousness and her fever seems to have broken, so that is good news. Other than that I don’t feel comfortable examining her until She gets here…”

               She? That’s awfully vague…I wonder who it is.

               “Can she talk?” The voice seems to come from the black haired boy; I look at him then to ‘Iggy.’

               Iggy looks at me puzzled and then to the black haired boy and back. “I’m not sure. Can you say anything, dear?” I look up and into his emerald eyes.

               What do they want me to say? Yes, I can talk, but where the fuck am I? It would be nice to know that…

               “What’s your name?” The black haired boy seems to be slightly agitated now. What did I do? “Where did you come from?”  My brain tries to find the answers but there is some sort of block, everything is…fuzzy.

               I…can’t remember…how did I get here? I can’t even remember what I was doing…The harder I try to remember  the harder it gets to breathe and the bigger that tightness in  my chest gets.

               “Dude, chill, let her answer one question at a time.” The voice seems to come from blondie, but I can’t focus, I can’t breathe.

               Where am I? How did I get here? Where is home? Can I even get home?  Who are these men? Have they done anything to me while I was unconscious? What will they do once I want to leave? Will they say that because they took care of me that I’m in their debt…where am I?

               The questions pile up and up and the noise of the men talking draws further and further away until it’s nothing but muffled voices. I sit up to try to be able to breathe easier, but I can’t. I find myself leaning forward gripping my shirt as if it’s choking me. I can’t breathe. My vision blurs as tears form. No, not right now, this can’t be happening. I can’t fight it. I can’t breathe.

               “Ignis! Look!”

               There seems to be shifting next to me and ‘Ignis’ kneels on the bed with one hand on my back and tries to look at me in the eyes for some sort of physical ailment, but I know he won’t find one.

               “What’s wrong?” He seems to be nervous, but he’s more concerned than anything else. I look at him through blurred vision as I gently begin to rock back and forth as my anxiety tears through me, ripping down all my protective walls so it can claw at my brain. My heart pounds in my chest as it tries to fight the monster gripping it. I have to say something; anything.

               “I can’t breathe.” It all comes out as one word, but he seems to understand immediately as the tears fall to the comforter. He snaps his head to the other boys.

               “Out now!”

               I stare down at the blanket as they all seem to shuffle out and I hear the door close behind them. My sobs come in short bursts and it escalates until I feel like I’m screaming, but there is no sound. I try to calm myself, I try to focus on something and try to shut this down like I’ve done oh-so many times, but it’s too late, the dam has burst and I have to ride it’s wave until it’s over. I feel the hands of ‘Ignis’ gently rub my back and he seems to have gathered what’s happening.

               “What do you want me to do?” His voice is calm and soothing, but it barely scratches the surface. My body is wracked with a monster that is eating away at my mind, destroying me from the inside, in times like these there are only two things that help; mind altering medication…and being held…

               I don’t think I can ask him to do that…but this needs to stop, nothing else is working. Can I even speak? My screams are so silent that I’m not sure my voice even works anymore…this fear of nothing, this anxiety has such a tight grip I don’t think it will ever let go…All I want is to feel safe…to be held and told that it’s okay. Please…just help me…

               I feel pressure on my hand as he seems to take it in his and squeeze it lightly. I look up to him with tear filled eyes and as I try to hold everything in my lip quivers. I feel so helpless…I see that there is room in the way that he’s sitting to just slide into an embrace. Ugh I don’t want to do this…but I don’t have a choice, my brain isn’t capable of rational thought right now. Oh forgive me…

               I pull my hand away from him and lean into his chest an place my head so I can hear his heartbeat and wrap my arms around his thin frame, he seems obviously surprised at first but then after a second I feel him softly place his hand on my back and he seems to hold me tightly as he rests his chin on my head. I feel like a child who has just woken up from a nightmare…

               “Shhh, you’re alright my dear, you’re safe now. Nothing can harm you.” His voice is soft and melodic; it hits a part in my brain that kick starts the recovery. His embrace is warm and it makes me feel safe as he holds me tight. I breathe him in with a breath and my nose is filled with a mix of coffee and cologne, whatever the cologne is, I like it and I’ll have to see later what it is. The coffee smell however, I’m not too big of a fan of, but they blend alright.  

               I have no idea how long I sit there, wrapped in the arms of a stranger, but eventually my sobs quiet and I am able to quell and shut down the monster in my head, and return it to its cage. My brain is muddled and I’m beyond exhausted, but I manage to let go of him and wipe my tears away.

               “I’m sorry you had to see that…I’ll be okay now…” My voice is quiet and tired.

               “Are you sure you’re alright?” He still seems wary and like he’s worried I’ll break again at any second. I sigh; I’m used to this reaction.

               “Yeah…just tired is all…”

               “Perhaps you should rest again…” I nod as he moves from the bed back to the chair to give me some room. I lay back down and onto my left side so I can continue to face him.

               “I hope I didn’t scare them…”

               “They’ll be fine. Does that happen often?” He seems concerned and leans forward and places his hand on my exposed one, as if still trying to comfort me. It works.

               “More than I’d like to admit, yes.” I pull the covers over my shoulders a bit more and get comfortable; I can feel myself sliding toward sleep.

                “And do you normally deal with it yourself?”

               “Sometimes…” I yawn.

               “Well, I guess I’ll let you get some rest.”  He goes to stand but I grab his wrist without thinking.

               “Hey, um, I-actually I don’t know what to call you.” I think his name is Ignis, but I wanna make sure.

               He looks down at me and smiles warmly. “Ignis Scientia is my name, but you may call me Ignis.” I nod and drop his wrist. “Did you need anything else?” I snuggle back down.

               I should probably warn him about what happens after…

               “Yeah…normally I sleep for like four hours after this…so you might want to wake me up in two, just so I don’t freak anyone out.” He nods and chuckles a little but I’m not sure what’s so funny.

               “I understand. Get some rest, I’ll come wake you later.” I nod as he leaves the room.

               I adjust in the bed until I find its maximum comfort spot and sigh. Well that was embarrassing…I hope I didn’t freak anyone out. I’m not sure what triggered that one…maybe just that I still don’t know where I am or how I got here…or how to get home…but I guess on the bright side I feel a bit safer knowing that there is someone like him in the group…someone who will comfort a complete stranger with no problem…

               As I feel myself slip into the void of sleep one name floats through my thoughts. Ignis Scientia…

Thanks to  @crossedquills, @ignis-scientia-estrogen-brigade, and @hypaalicious for putting up with me bothering them earlier for a little Ignis insight and helping me with a title. I hope it isn’t too terrible. ^^’