#yes they are emotions from like last year shhhh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

waitmyturtles · 1 year

Text

Ichigeki review! And you almost will certainly ask, what, my dear, is an Ichigeki? Yes, I will explain:

I’m still on my little Machida Keita/Akaso Eiji rabbithole kick, simply because I cannot shake Cherry Magic from my existence, and I’ve been pretty vocal about how disappointed I’ve been in some of Machida’s more normie/cishet roles, simply because I don’t think the scripts leverage his range. (This does not quite apply to Akaso, as I think....shhhh... that Akaso is the stronger actor, and he’s had a lot better roles thrown at him more recently, including Maiagare, Ishiko to Haneo, and Hiru.) Three Star Bar in Nishi Ogikubo was actually better than Machida’s other, more recent cishet roles, as Super Rich and Teppachi really fell flat.

However, I ABSOLUTELY loved his work in 2018′s Life as a Girl, which was prior to Cherry Magic, and I think that show was a nice preemptor to showcasing the chops that he threw down, along with Akaso, in CM.

So my review of Life as a Girl touched upon how I learned about the show -- through Tumblr, obviously, as a “based on your likes” recommendation post that called Machida’s character in the show a “himbo,” and of course, that’s going to pique my interest. Really quickly, because I’ve already written about this, but Machida’s character in Life as a Girl was as a bumbling classmate to the main character, played by Shison Jun, who is in the process of transitioning to female.

Machida nailed himbo very well. Slightly physical comedy, demonstrating a range of emotions that went into and out of the bumbling, supposedly masculine role that he inhabited. He wove in and out of this structure of being the masculine man next to his classmate that was formerly a man -- he nailed that balance as a means of offering tremendous compassion and companionship to his close friend. I loved it.

So anyway, why am I bringing this all up? It’s because he was GREAT in Ichigeki.

Ichigeki (one strike/one kill) is a manga about a peasant-turned-samurai in the last year of the Edo period, 1867, who joins a group of villagers assigned to disrupt another group of samurais who are involved in warring factions with the Shogunate. NHK dramatized this manga earlier this month as an hour-and-a-half Japanese New Year’s special.

I usually just don’t do period dramas -- in part because I feel really guilty that I’m not deeply familiar with Japan or Korea’s history (although my VERY, VERY FIRST K-drama EVER was Dae Jo-young, which an ex-boyfriend got me into, l.o.l.). And as well, the previews for this New Year’s special didn’t quite give an indication into how the material would be treated -- was it going to be heavy-handed serious, an ode to past history with a sad ending, kind of dull and boring and condescendingly educational?

No -- it was SO GOOD! I’m not sure if the manga was written this way, but this special had a LOT of comedy in it. I truly did not know what to expect -- the show is led by an EXCELLENT Sometani Shota as a stout villager, dealing with his moral and ethical inhibitions regarding fighting for wealthy lords who don’t give a shit about his life or of those of his team. And Machida plays a character named Ichi (not related to the title of the show), an overconfident villager who finally finds a path out of his impoverished life by way of hopefully becoming a samurai -- all at a time where the samurai are literally about to become extinct.

The show is structured as being told by a Japanese storyteller, and again, I really don’t know that much about the tradition behind this kind of storytelling, and I wish I did -- but if there are poop jokes, badass women fighters, lots of sake, and many shirtless dudes, well, then, I’m all in, fam. It was a VERY digestible and fun watch, and I highly recommend finding and watching it. Machida was in classic himbo mode, lots of comedy and brashness, and he nailed his role hilariously. The entire cast was great. (Including this guy, Kudo Asuka, who was also in Teppachi with Machida -- and he’s a motherfucking FARMER! A farmer-actor! We need more farmer-actors.)

If you’re still in a holiday mood, go watch Ichigeki, it was really good and a nice interruption to the usual-usual. I hope Machida’s next dorama, which will be Fixer on WOWOW in the spring, allows him to expand out of himbo and give him the kind of dramatic step that Akaso has now had in a few shows himself. We shall see -- fingers crossed. Love the Cherry Magic dudes so much.

#ichigeki #machida keita #shota sometani #sometani shota #akaso eiji #cherry magic

19 notes · View notes

skoulsons · 1 year

Text

hi. So I have nearly 90 drafts that have piled up over the course of about 3 or 4 months, so I guess I’ll start posting them now 😭 I haven’t really read over this or checked it and I think I wrote it at 4am, so I’m sorry if it loses any coherency

(Headcanon?? or im just down bad) but like, joel’s “if somehow the Lord gave me a second chance at that moment, I would do it all over again” being the way he tells ellie he loves her is so incredibly profound to me. Love (WE’RE TALKING PLATONIC) isn’t a feeling. People act like it is, which is why so many people fall out of it. Love is commitment, serving, and choosing them every single day. It’s in your actions. Their entire story shows this. Even in the little things, like joel teaching her how to play guitar. But even in the greater things. Ellie keeping him alive all throughout winter. Sure, she needed him to get to the fireflies, but I think winter goes deeper than that. This is post-ranch argument. The ranch argument (and joel taking her back while they’re sitting above Jackson) and joel finding her with David are *their* moments. The moments when we see, okay, they are stuck together now. Even once they reach the fireflies, that’s not the end like we thought it would be a few hours ago. They’re going to stay together. Joel saying “I’m never gonna leave you again” to her in that silent moment immediately after he finds her after David is such a….I can’t think of the word oh my sjdhdjd but like their relationship is kind of solidified(?). Like their solidifying moment of “we’re with each other now”. And I think winter shows Ellie’s deep, profound love for Joel. Giving him literally all the warmth and as much as comfort as they could have (yes he was dying obviously just shhhh), probably nearly starving herself to make sure he got the majority of food and water she was able to get. She did that for weeks while he was knocking on deaths door. And joel, while she was just a job at the beginning, has still protected her from day one. And obviously his big moment of action that showed his love (no matter what way you view the end of the first game), was him saving her from the fireflies. He could not bear to lose another daughter, so he killed doctors and soldiers and everyone in his way to save her life. NOW to tie back to my first sentence in this whole spiel. I do believe they’ve both loved each other for years now, and I think it was always an understood thing between them. Joel’s love definitely never faltered through those last two years, though I’m sure you could argue Ellie’s did. Or didn’t, I don’t know. But it wasn’t something they ever said to each other. At the time of their porch conversation, tensions are very high. Ellie is still upset from the dance with Joel’s intervention, and she’s still giving him the cold shoulder bc of his lie. I think a lot of things go through his head when she says “I should’ve died in that hospital. My life would’ve fcking mattered. But you took that from me”. I think one thing is, and something I probably would not have controlled, is her saying her life would’ve mattered if she died for the cure. If I were joel I would’ve spewed about how she does matter and blah blah blah sappy stuff ynow. But he’s walking on thin ice here. He knows she feels betrayed. He knows they’re not how they used to be. He knows he can’t just say anything because he may upset her more, and that’s at the top of his list of thing he does not want to do. And so he waits a minute and tries to collect his thoughts and what he wants to tell her. He thinks of something that, while it combats everything she just said to him, also holds a lot of weight of their relationship and why he did what he did. I genuinely think that him saying this is just “I love you” in its purest, most raw, emotional, profound (I’ve said this like 7 times im sorry it just f i t s) form. If he said “I love you too much to let you die”, that would’ve scared her off. But he gave her something that she needed to hear and to start to understand why he did it and how he STILL feels, even after everything. And sometimes I wonder if the “I would do it all over again” refers to just the hospital, or their entire journey as a whole. Either way, I think it still tells her enough.

-And so she tells him she doesn’t think she’ll be able to forgive him and it BREAKS him. The thought of losing her, or not so much losing her, but never getting their relationship back to birthday level camping trip highs, kills him. His breath is shaky immediately. But then she tells him, maybe she could forgive him. But not that she could, but that she’d LIKE to try. She WANTS to get back to that birthday level camping trip high of the relationship they used to have. As hurt as she is, she misses it. He’s (I believe, personally) the most important person in her life, even if at this point. She wants to get back there as much as he does. And he starts to break more. Because now, there’s a chance, though incredibly small, that he COULD get her back. And that is more than enough. It could take years, but he’s happy with it. He’s thrilled to know that, even after everything, she is willing to try. Can you imagine early tlou2 if it were different and we got to see a cutscene of Ellie asking joel if he wanted to watch Curtis and Viper 2 that night? The smile that would’ve come to his face?

ALSO I FORGOT TO GO WITH THE LAST CHUNK OF TEXT.., him singing future days to her I think is also such a big profession of love. They’ve been in Jackson a few months and they’re living a “normal” lil family father-daughter life now. Not out every day fighting for their life. They get to settle down. And obviously his attachment to ellie has been going on for a while, but them being like,, they’re glued together now. They’re WITH each other. Joel’s adopted her ok ive talked to Neil druckmann myself I know things. But joel signing this to her is just so incredibly special. He loves her so much. I literally sat in my bed last night and was full on sobbing bc the degree that his love goes for her is beyond my comprehension. Every time I think about I CANNOT wrap my head around it. It’s so insane to me. But he loves her so incredibly much. He got a second chance at fatherhood and refuses to lose ellie, under any circumstance as we’ve seen, even if the rest of the human race was on the line, he can’t lose her. Now obviously as I mentioned above, we never hear the “i love you” sentiment actually said between either of them, but we see it in their actions. All their actions throughout the games, even the little things. And I think what joel says on the porch is as much of an i love you as you can get, i think I’m singing to her is just as much as well. He could’ve sung ANY song he knew on guitar, but no he picked future days to show her how much he loves her. “If i ever were to lose you, I’d surely lose myself. I believe, cause I can see, our future days, days of you and me” (yes I cut some lines out) BUT LIKE???? GDKDHDK but not even just talking about the lyrics or the fact that they show exactly what joel is trying to say, it’s also that this is the song joel uses to introduce ellie to guitar. To introduce her to something he 1) promised he’d teach her and 2) it’s something he LOVES. it’s just so,?:?!&,)?:,;@($ i love their love I love their story I love the little things I love overthinking about them

#have I mentioned I love them #because I don’t think I’ve made it clear enough #her not getting to tell him she forgives is the source of all my anger #the last of us part 2 #joel miller #ellie williams #the last of us #DONT SHIP THEM !!!#i will block on sight

3 notes · View notes

ilikemilkbread · 2 years

Text

i was thinking for a long while about whether there would be any purpose to me making a "goodbye" post here, considering i barely talk to anyone here anymore nor have i really had anyone i used to talk to reach out to me

but. i kinda want to. just to use tumblr to talk about myself for one last time. and say that final goodbye. except not final lmao

its been 6 months since the last time i reblogged a post. which is weird to think about. its been longer since i was actually active here. its been longer since i last talked to a mutual. oops. i still definitely value the people ive met here, but... i just stopped using this site. its hard to talk to people if you arent using the same platforms for communication

to a big block of text that may actually comment on things:

im doing a lot better now.

across a lot of my time on tumblr, i think ive come across as an often vitriolic person. i most likely was a vitriolic person. i spent ALL of my teenage years on this site, and my teenage years were some of my outright worst. i used tumblr as an escape from that, but i allowed my emotions to spill across. i talked negatively about things often (because i couldnt vent to people in real life). i often outright criticised things i knew my mutuals liked. i would be dismissive and negative about topics for the sole reason of hoping that it would be enough to make a mutual unfollow me. i gained some sort of sick validation from that feeling. its weird to think about. its weird to know how much i cared about these interactions with people i barely knew

lately, ive moved away from online spaces. a bit. ive probably spent way too much of my time on youtube watching study content and fucking discrete mathematics guides lmao. but ive done less doom scrolling. i dont really know what shows are popular anymore, and im fine with that

the biggest change that helped me, i think, was finding other queer people. my university has a queer collective. ive never been more blessed to know such people

i also met my beautiful boyfriend there.

university has treated me kindly. now that were back in-person, ive been thriving. my current units are... something, but i find computer science as a whole thrilling. ive had the opportunity to interview for some related roles (mainly lvl 1 helpdesk lmao) and its been an overall fascinating experience (yes im still a first year shhhh)

with the assistance of a friend, ive found a nearby clinic that does hrt currently accepting new patients. if you know the state of trans healthcare within australia, finding a place accepting new patients is HARD. i am endlessly grateful to my friend for informing me of the clinics status. ideally, ill be starting hrt soon

but. mostly, ive come so much further than i thought i ever could. im out in a small community, and im going by my chosen name in many circles. ive cut my hair off. i have a boyfriend who is part of the queer community himself (though cis) who accepts me. i NEVER thought i would have this opportunity pre-transition.

and my queer friends i have found in life. there is beauty in community. i care so much about all of them. i didnt realise how lonely and isolated i was, as a trans person not knowing any other queer people.

my life has changed for the better. this post exists solely so i can ramble about that.

im probably not going to delete my tumblr. its still too useful for when i need to find certain things from my past. but i wont post regularly ever again.

maybe ill do another long ramble-post if something important happens in the future.

1 note · View note

imfiguringitoutlovely · 3 years

Text

class 1a with reader with suuuuper hot hands

pairing: platonic!class 1a x gn!reader (they/them)

genre: crack, fluff, drabble

warnings: a lil bit of self conscious reader,,

author's notes: i. love. class 1a. and yes. i include shinsou. shhhh.

boiling point

basically, upon touching any metalic element with at least three pads of your fingers, you can bring it to it's natural boiling point. for example, if you touch an iron plate with three fingers, it'll start to boil. you can't return whatever you boil into it's previous state. as soon as you stop touching it, it hardens up, and yes this works for things mixed in with other elements, but it'll ONLY boil the metalic element.

so obviously this can be a bit dangerous. it's upon will, but sometimes you just get kinda excited and your emotions might trigger the quirk to activate. it happens mostly when you're passionate, so you wear thick gloves that only leave two fingers on each hand exposed. still have four fingers out, but it makes it way less likely for you to accidentally do something.

you got into ua through the tests. you'd get as close as possible and touch the robots wherever a spot was open, but you still had to be pretty careful. not everyone was resistant to such extreme temperatures, so while the metal was pooling and boiling around your ankles with no problem, you had to yell at others to stay back. it did make it easier to rack up points for yourself when most others physically couldn't take a robot target from you, though.

up until living in the dorms, all was pretty mellow. you weren't seen as a threat by bakugou or todo who were making their aim for the top clear. you performed, and you performed well, but you didn't really show what you were fully capable of until after the summer camp attack.

and then people started being like 🧍 WHERE WAS THIS ENERGY BEFORE-?

they knew you were strong. but DAMN.

kiri calls you manly. fr. like. all the time, even at the beginning of the year, but especially after you show that you can literally BOIL DOWN AN ENTIRE BUILDING'S STRUCTURE-

he is kinda scared of you being around tetsutetsu, though, he doesn't want you to accidentally melt one of his bestest friends 😭

bakugou like 😐 on the outside but is going apeshit on the inside. he does tell you to not be so reckless tho-

"oi, bunson burner-"

"hey-!"

"try not to bring down the entire fucking building, will you?"

"you're the one with the demolition quirk-"

and you bicker back and forth, never coming to a conclusion as to who's quirk is more unnecessarily destructive.

deku thinks you're fucking cool (bc he thinks everyone is cool) but he really does wonder if you could theoretically boil tetsutetsu. not that he'd like to actually see it.

he also thinks it's fascinating how much control you have over it. the way you calculate when to move, how, and how it should correlate with lifting your fingers from your target while keeping in mind the environment just-

it's so complicated and he wonders how you're able to get it done in your head so quickly.

once, during civilian-rescue training, you were tasked to save dummies from beneath large debris. a few happened to be metal-based, and the way you handled it? bringing it to a boil, letting it spill outward, release. it hardens. bring it to a boil, letting it spill outward, release. hardens. and you were quickly able to get the pieces light enough to safely remove. and for practice with civilians injured by those objects, still in contact?

"so if you boil it just enough, as it drips, it starts losing that heat the further from your hands so it just comes to a melting point... but you had to lift your fingers and..."

"OI, DEKU, STOP WITH THE DAMN MUMBLING-"

HRNXND YOU'RE BANNED FROM THE KITCHENNN 😭 AIZAWA IS SCARED YOU'RE GONNA MELT THE STUFF BY ACCIDENT... AGAIN-

"[Last Name]". it's not just an egg. last time it was just toast. do i have to show you the picture of the old toaster again?"

the shade of it all 😭😭

shinsou can relate to you fr. being told and reminded about how dangerous your quirk is, how much power you have to cause damage to others, especially when the world around you is full of metals to boil just like it's full of people to brainwash.

any quirk can be used for bad in one way or another, but ones that can just seem so naturally made to destroy and manipulate such fundamental parts of their everyday life? yeah. labeled, easy.

one day you're just minding your damn business on a group outing. it's all good, everything is chill and then

"isn't that the ua student who tried to boil the tracks to make the train stop during their internship?"

"the one who interned with mount lady? ...oh my god, it is-"

and they had the audacity to not only stare, but scoot away from you because of course you were on a train with them 😀

and yes, you did do that. but it ended up actually being effective. sure, it ruined the track and almost caused damage to the train (and passengers) but the worst were a few concussions and some reconstruction.

besides, if you hadn't, the whole thing would've been hit by a villain's much more dangerous quirk up ahead.

but yes, you heard, and it made you uncomfortable. you were trying really hard to appeal to public opinion, but some people still thought you were dangerous, careless.

shinsou noticed. and as much as he was tempted to brainwash those ASSES, he knew better than to draw any more attention. he was lucky they hadn't recognized him under his hoodie.

"if you did something wrong, mount lady would've told you. it did look bad without context, but you did what you had to do."

and that from shinsou was equivalent to

"you should be proud of what you did because i know i sure am."

and that felt really nice and :) yes, very nice, you two end up becoming best friends allies and nobody can separate you two tbh-

MINA THINKS ITS SO COOL TO HAVE SOMEONE WITH A SIMILAR-ISH QUIRK. LIKE THE EFFECTS. IT'S NOT MELTING, BUT... CLOSE ENOUGH DJNDNC

todoroki is convinced you're a secret love child of one of tetsutetsu's parents and someone with a boiling quirk. or fire quirk... ENDEAVOR-

dark shadow likes you a lot. he appreciates your patience from experience since... well, growing up, when you accidentally activated your quirk, people weren't as patient. tokoyami appreciates it, too, ofc.

denki calls you hot stuff, and you have to remind him that he has a choker buckle around his neck that you can boil right against his skin if he tries anything funny-

also yes, you've threatened to boil off mineta's "pants" of his hero outfit LMAO-

tetsutetsu isn't in your class but he's seen what you can do to iron and he is very afraid, actually-

...tenya needs you to step away from hIS ENGINES AND HERO OUTFIT PLEASE-

uraraka and asui think your quirk is p cool 😎

momo finds your effects on metal quite fascinating, tbh. :) i feel like she'd make things to team up w you, like some sort of lab-like tool sized up and then you'd boil a shit ton of metal and uraraka would use her quirk to help scoop it up for clean up,, just makes things easier, yk?

BUT YES

AND WHEN YOU BOIL THINGS BY ACCIDENT, MOMO OFFERS TO HELP FIX IT UP

AND EVERYONE REASSURES YOU THAT IT'S OK (except bakugou, the fucking ASSHAT but it's ok,, he's not really mad, he's just worried you'll hurt yourself w smth) AND TRIES TO HELP YOU FIX IT BC YOU JUST GET SO EMBARRASSED AND WORRIED THAT THEY'LL BE MAD :(((

and tbh sometimes you're scared to touch people? like if they're wearing jewelry, you get really worried that it'll boil and hurt them. :(

SO THESE ANGELS KNOW THAT AND WILL EITHER PUSH THEIR JEWELRY OUT OF THE WAY-

OR THEY'LL GET YOU NEW GLOVES MADE SPECIFICALLY DENSE ENOUGH THAT YOU CAN'T DIRECTLY TOUCH ANYTHING, BUT COOL ENOUGH THAT THEY'RE NOT UNCOMFY IN THE HEAT

AND THEY GIVE IT TO YOU AND 🥺

WAHHHHHHHHH THEY LOVE THEIR BUNSON BURNER BAHAHAH

#x male reader #xmale!readerblog #x gender neutral reader #nonbinary #x nonbinary reader #my hero academia #denki kaminari #mha x male reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou #bakugou x reader #class 1a #class 1a x reader #read with me lovelies

1K notes · View notes

dapandapod · 3 years

Text

When you kiss me heaven sighs

As might have been noticed, I have been listening to this version of La vie en Rose for days. On loop.

So naturally Geralt has to propose. That is how it works. Also don’t look too closely at the french, because I literally google translated it, copy paste and done. shhhh don’t tell :)

Please enjoy a sappy panda mood again <3 On Ao3 here

Out of the two of them, Jaskier is the musician. Rather obviously so, as they actually met the first time on a street corner where Jaskier was singing his heart out and Geralt was unable to tear his eyes away. That first time, it was a guitar, the next a flute, lute, and a loop pedal.

His eyes were twinkling, his smile warm and inviting, and Geralt was completely smitten. Is completely smitten.

Years later, after a tentative friendship filled with pining and then finally that first, desperate kiss, Geralt is still smitten. If possible, more so than all those years ago.

They live together now in a sunny flat on the third floor. Their upstairs neighbours are loud with children running and parents screaming and the street below is always filled with honking cars and road work. They talk of moving somewhere bigger. Somewhere possibly theirs.

And all the while, Geralt carries a secret. Because, after talking to his brothers about it, he realizes Jaskier is all he wants in life, always and forever. The secret is a little black velvet box. A box his adoptive father and brothers too carried until they were ready, and now rests with a new charge.

As they look for a new home, hoping to find an apartment on the top floor, or possibly a house, Geralt takes time hiding away, preparing. As they pack away their belongings, plan and make bids, Geralt asks for his darling Ciri’s advice.

On the eve they have moved into their small house, their very own little corner of the world, Geralt can’t wait anymore. They're sitting on the floor, leaning against cardboard boxes and eating pizza, when Geralt caves.

There is one box he has kept an extra eye on, the one with the ukulele. He digs it out while Jaskier watches him curiously, a bit of cheese clinging to his chin. Sitting down, he strums it, tries out a few chords. He doesn’t look at Jaskier as he does this, but he senses the growing surprise.

His heart is in his throat when Jaskier draws a breath as the strumming turns into a song.

“Geralt,” he whispers, putting the pizza down, finally wiping his chin, and Geralt smiles.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras Il me parle tout bas Je vois la vie en rose Il me dit des mots d'amour Des mots de tous les jours Et ça me fait quelque chose”

Jaskier blushes so prettily. His lips are parted, eyes filled with something warm and gentle, and his hands are clenching his dirty sweatpants. He is beautiful, and Geralt’s heart skips a beat.

"Il est entré dans mon cœur Une part de bonheur Dont je connais la cause C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie"

Geralt sings, finally meeting Jaskier’s eyes. His fingers feel clumsy, the strings vibrating under his grip, and he licks his lips before the next part.

Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose" When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose”

When you press me to your heart I'm in a world apart A world where roses bloom And when you speak, angels sing from above Everyday words seem to turn into love songs"

This is it. There is a storm of emotions, an onslaught from all sides. Hope, longing, comfort, worry, and so, so much love.

"Give your heart and soul to me And life will always be "La vie en rose"

The last note of the ukulele rings out, and for a moment, there is silence. Geralt puts the instrument on top of a box, heart beating like a sledgehammer.

“That was beautiful,” Jaskier whispers. He curls up against his shoulder when Geralt sits down next to him again. “I didn’t know you played the ukulele.”

“I don’t,” Geralt admits and tucks his arms around Jaskier. “I only know this one.”

“Could have fooled me,” Jaskier says, propping up his chin on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Fake it til’ you make it,” Geralt replies, smirking, quoting Jaskier right back at him.

“Faking French too?” Jaskier asks teasingly, leaning in for a kiss.

“Hmm.” Geralt can’t help but get distracted, lost in warm lips on his. He didn’t plan it this way, he swears he didn’t. But he has to say it somehow, right?

“ Je t'aime ,” he mumbles against Jaskier’s lips, knowing full well that he will understand it. “Veux-tu m'épouser?”

And Jaskier freezes.

“You-”

Jaskier pulls back, studying his face. Geralt gropes around in his pocket, realizing the ring isn’t there.

“Wait. Shit. Fuck.” He stands up, running to his jacket. He digs around desperately in the hallway. Jaskier sits quietly on the kitchen floor. He is never quiet.

“Geralt,” he calls after a few minutes, and Geralt panics. “It’s here.”

Fuck. This is not going as planned at all.

Geralt returns, sweaty and nervous. He stands in the doorway watching Jaskier hold the black satin box in his hands. It must have fallen out of his pocket, but at least it wasn’t in the moving truck.

Jaskier looks up at him, eyes misty.

“Is this the same box Lambert used?”

“And Eskel. And Vesemir,” Geralt confirms. He approaches Jaskier, his little bard, his light, his everything, and kneels in front of him, taking Jaskier's hands in his.

“You are the love of my life. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” Geralt repeats, now in English, his voice a little hoarse and cracked. He opens the box and reveals a silver ring

The tears finally overflow, Jaskier pushing the little box away and sniffling. For a heartbeat, just one heartbeat, Geralt fears rejection. But in the next, Jaskier has flung himself around his neck, pretty much crawled up in his lap, hugging him as tight as he can.

“You romantic sap, never accuse me of being soft again,” he sobs.

“You are soft,” Geralt murmurs, his arms coming up to hold him. “Is that a yes?”

Again Jaskier leans back, his eyes are red rimmed and well. Soft.

“I am yours, Geralt Rivia. I have been from the moment I saw you and will be until I draw my last breath. You will never get rid of me.”

“So yes,” Geralt says, smile growing, heart so light he could fly.

“Yes, you fucking imbecile, yes, I will marry you!”

There is more kissing after that, and some more crying. The pizza lies forgotten on the floor as Geralt puts the ring on Jaskier’s finger. He knows the size perfectly, he has bought many rings for his Jaskier, but this is the one that counts.

At their wedding they have the band play their song. Jaskier insists that Geralt did it better, but they had a trumpet, and that is hard to beat. They dance cheek to cheek, so close Geralt can feel the heat of Jaskier’s skin and smell the champagne on his breath.

“When you kiss me, heaven sighs, And though I close my eyes, I see "La vie en rose”

141 notes · View notes

ive-tumbled-down-a-rabbit-hole · 3 years

Text

Stories of Paris

I have no self control this week and have just finished this wip I'll update 2 days on the trot (mainly as I've become word blind and can't see the words for the letters). This is a flux occurrence and is likely to never happen again unless it's like a month with 2 full moons and the stars have aligned wonky and theres a north wind blowing and Fae stuff like that....

Will eventually post on AO3 when like the tech sprites are feeling nice to me and the gremlins have disappeared.

Masterlist

Part One Part Two

...................................................................................

Alfred checked in on his small charge, making sure he was still asleep, before heading to his own room. The last couple of months had been hard. Much harder for young master Bruce but still hard. He had lost his employers, who were closer to friends really. He'd become an unexpected full time guardian on top of a full time workload of running a manor house, which he was originally employed for. Gone were his fortnightly day off. His evenings to himself to meet up with friends, his whole life was turned upside down and he was grieving.

As much as he adored Master Bruce he wanted, no that's not right, he needed a break to grieve too. Grieve the loss of his friends, the loss of his freedom, the loss of his own life expectations.

Once he reached his own personal sanctuary he got out his personal phone and dialed the one person who got him. She may have been a foreign agent but she had taken him under her wing, looked after him and treated him like a son before they both retired (for different reasons). She was like a mother to him after he lost his own. She was always a grounding rock. It was this point, in his early 30's he needed someone to talk to this overwhelming, unexpected, humongous responsibility he'd stumbled upon.

"Ciao?"

"Gina, Are free to talk?"

"Alfie darling!!! Of course I am free to talk to you! I'll always make time for you darling! How are you doing stateside? The family in your charge still treating you well? Or do they need to be dropped so you can come adventuring with me?"

Suppressing a stifled sob Alfred tried to answer Gina's questions.

"They, they died Gina. The couple. The… the Wayne's were murdered in front of their son… They left me in charge of looking after him. I'm his guardian… I've looked after him for 2… 2 months..."

The stifled sob broke loose. After 2 months of being in complete control over all the emotions in favour of protecting and supporting Master Bruce he finally let them all out.

".... Shhhh shhh, there there il mio piccolo… Let those tears flow. Don't hold it in. Let those feelings out… "

Alfred sat in his room allowing himself to crack with Gina providing soothing words to him. After a while the sobs died down and he recomposed himself.

"Are you feeling better Alfie sweetie?"

"... Yes …"

"How often do you get your own space? Time to care about yourself? When was the last time you had a 'you' day?"

"... Before, before all this I would have days and time to see friends. Now, it's all about Master Bruce. He needs someone. He's just lost his parents. I can't abandon him as well.''

"So not for 2 months then. Hmmmm… you need to get a babysitter and make time and days for yourself"

"I don't trust anyone in Gotham Gina to look after Master Bruce. I've built a network up but not a 'child friendly one'."

"Good thing then I have the perfect candidate for you. My granddaughter is in Gotham as part of a study program or something like that. My little fairy is good with bambini. And it would benefit us having someone we trust to physically check in with her too. Being an ocean away makes it hard for us to check she is actually ok and not what she is presenting to a screen or phone."

"That, that might work Gina. How old is she? I know you wouldn't suggest it if she wasn't suitable…"

"Currently 17 but soon to be 18 and planning to stay Gotham way for a while. She seems to adore the architecture."

"That… .this might work. Could you check with her that she is happy to do this and we can arrange a meeting to see how it goes. It will be dependent on how well she connects with Master Bruce as to what happens next."

"Sounds like a plan Alfie! You're a strong resourceful man Alfie. You'll get through this. Do call me again if you need anything. And I do mean anything! Also be certain I'll be visiting in the nearish future to check on you and the lad.

Now go to sleep and I'll have a chat with my little fairy to see what we can do. You're not on your own in this son. Rest now and I will be in contact soon."

"Thank you Gina. For everything. Just being able to talk to someone has been a huge help. I'll go rest now. Bye"

"Bye Alfie"

After hanging up the phone Alfred took a deep breath and for the first time in a long time he felt he could finally breathe. Gina had never led him wrong before. Having someone to watch Master Bruce even for a few hours would allow him the space to set up a new network and reconnect with people. The overwhelming task would become manageable. Hopefully Gina's granddaughter would be willing and that Master Bruce liked her.

With those thoughts in mind Alfred finally turned in for the night.

…………………………………………………………..

Bruce continued to stare at the teen in his living room. It was an unexpected guest in his eyes. Alfred had informed him of a visitor, an old friend's granddaughter who was studying in Gotham, and Alfred's friend wanted him to check up on her. So Alfred had invited her to the manor. That was all fine. What he didn't get is why HE needed to be about. He didn't want company, he wanted his parents back. He wanted that man who destroyed his life brought to justice. He wanted to do research not listening to some inane talk. He wanted to be left alone to wallow. And maybe have Alfred about too for quiet company and provide tea and snacks. Not this stranger in his home.

As he stared (glared) at the girl he lost focus on the ongoing conversation she was having with Alfred to sulk.

He was drawn out of his musing when he saw the girl out down the cup she was drinking from and gave Alfred a hug. She whispered something to Alfred and much to Bruce's amazement, Alfred's whole being seemed to loose some of the tenseness it held. A glimmer of a spark he once held seems to re-enter his being.

"*cough* Right Miss Marinette. I can tell you are related to your Grandmother. Gina holds a magic way with words too."

"It's ok Monsieur Pennyworth. I learnt a lot about how words have power and how they can affect people under Hawkmoth's rein. Nonna helped me refine the skill."

"Hawkmoth? Miss Marinette could you explain further?"

"Yes, he was a supervillain. He held the power to manipulate people with negative emotions and turn them into temporary villains which Paris superheros had to defeat.

It was exhausting to live through. Watching what you said and how it could affect others. Keeping your own emotions in check. Nonna was a great help in learning to read body language so I could preempt and defuse situations before Hawkmoth could attack."

The girl, Marinette, went back to drinking her tea as if what she said was common knowledge and that having super heros was a normal thing.

It sparked Bruce's interest. The 8 year old boy adored comics telling granduese stories of adventures. This Marinette may not be as awful as he originally thought. She had experience of heroes and what they could do. In the small boy's head, he needed to get as much information as humanly possible from her. She might know how they came to be. How they got their powers. She knew about justice and how to take down bad guys indirectly. That meant joining in the conversation so she might come again.

"Thank you for coming round Miss Marinette. Are you sure I can not interest you into staying for dinner?"

"No, thank you Monsieur Pennyworth, for having me. I would have loved to stay for dinner, Nonna tells tales of your fabulous culinary skills, I must however decline. The family I am staying with is expecting me back soon.

It was a pleasure to meet you though. And you Monsieur Wayne."

Bruce was drawn out of his thoughts of superheroing and taking down bad guys. His information source was leaving. He needed to keep her here somehow. Or get her return.

"It was nice to meet you too Marinette. Would you like to come round and visit Alfred again?"

Alfred looked at the young master in surprise, the young boy had appeared to show no interest and huge distrust of Miss Marinette, but apparently looks are deceiving. Somehow she had won the boys interest and he wanted her to return. Gina was right about the girl, she was talented and seemed to know how to work her audience especially children. Maybe, just maybe Gina's idea would work.

"I would be delighted to visit again Monsieur Wayne. Monsieur Pennyworth has my details. I'm sure we can arrange another occasion to meet."

"If you would like to follow me Miss Marinette, I will escort you to the door."

…………………………………………………………..

"Gina"

"Alfie!!! How are you? It's good to hear from you!"

"I am well thank you. Much better than when we last spoke. I must say though, thank you! Your idea has been perfect. Your granddaughter has been amazing. She completely worked her magic with Master Bruce."

"Mmmm hmmm"

"She has got him talking. Not much. But he isn't as wallowy as he was before we met her. She got him kneading bread. And basically got him to beat his frustrations into it. The kitchen was a disaster from it all but he seems happier."

"YOU sound happier darling too!! The kneading thing likely comes from my Tom. He got my fairy doing that a lot under Hawkmoths rein. Baking for her has become a way to process/deal with her emotions. The nasty fella. I'm glad he is all done and dusted for my fairy. He left his mark on her."

"I can honestly see a way forward now Gina. Thank you. Bruce and I, we will get there. But back to your comment, Left his Mark? Did Miss Marinette get hurt? Has she an injury that I need to be aware of. Every time I've seen her she seems well, with the occasional spacey moments. She seems to navigate a conversation well to avoid topics that cause her too many anxieties."

"Not physically that I am aware of. Emotionally it has taken its toll. She is good at masking and misdirecting emotions as you've probably seen and noted. She's grieving too. She's left Paris as it has too many memories for the moment."

"I see.... I can see how that is likely helping her and Master Bruce connect. Thank you Gina, truly. Our little family has hope now that your fairy has arrived. We will see if we can also watch out and help her."

…………………………………………………………..

Had Bruce realised at the time that Marinette's original visit was an informal interview to see if he connected with her, Bruce may have paid a bit more attention. He might have noticed if had paid attention but that's neither here nor there. In his unfocused state he had somehow agreed to her becoming his babysitter. And as much as he protested to Alfred that he was perfectly capable of looking after himself. The small fire he created in the kitchen when he tried to make toast (this time) shortly before his declaration destroyed his argument.

The bonus was that with each occasion Marinette babysat him he was learning more and more about superheros (and got freshly baked treats). And she knew a lot about both.

"Mon poussin, shall we go bake some cookies before Alfred returns?"

"Ummm… I might have been err banned from the kitchen since you last visited Mari."

"Banned mon chéri? Why on earth were you banned?"

"I tried to make the cookies we made last time for Alfred as a surprise. The fire this time was much bigger than normal"

"Are you banned from baking or just being in the kitchen? I kinda need to know what rule we're about to bend"

"Bend? And errrr baking and kitchen. Alfred said 'Young master. Please can you refrain from attempting to bake and using the kitchen equipment. You are banned until I see fit that it is safe for you to learn again'"

Bruce caught a glint of mischief entering Marinette's eye and a smirk grew upon her face.

"Perfect!!! You're banned from the equipment for baking. I'll use the equipment then and you can still be in the kitchen then. Bending is working with the rules and looking for where they are flexible and looking for loopholes. Alfred for example according to you said baking. Well baking is different from cooking. So technically you could cook. Though as it's Alfred I'd probably give it a miss."

"Yeah, I don't fancy getting on the wrong side of Alfred."

The pair started to walk to the kitchen to bake with Marinette leading.

"The Parisian's superheros used that technique a lot. The police there weren't particularly welcoming in the beginning so they followed the rules the police set out and twisted them to work best in their interest. It's something you see business people do too. Something I'm sure you'll encounter when you're older sadly."

"How did they get their names? Paris's superheros"

Marinette smiled ruefully as she got the ingredients out for cookies.

"I told you that I was friends with a blogger at the time"

"Uh-huh" Bruce nodded.

"For the most part she named them. I believe, from what I remember her saying, is that Chat Noir introduced himself as that, but Ladybug, she focused on the task at hand and ignored the media for the most part at the beginning and they named her. The blogger from what I recall named her and then created the blog 'the ladyblog' as a pun on the name. Lesson to learn there is that if a hero doesn't want to be named by the media they should have a name ready to provide and introduce themselves with. Winning the media and public over made the job easier from what I could tell"

"And what made them superheros Mari?"

"They had powers mon poussin. Police, firepeople, doctors and nurses. They are all hero's fighting to protect others everyday. All within the law. These superheros had powers. They had magic."

Bruce looked at Marinette in awe.

"Magic?"

"A curse and a blessing, magic is Bruce" Marinette in such a serious way that was so out of character it startled Bruce.

"There are so many types of magic out there Bruce. For the most part it's benevolent, neither good nor evil just existing in balance. Old magic though. Old magic tends to come at a cost. Yes it can help but there is always something required to balance it out. A negative payment. Hawkmoth, he used the magic in a negative way and it cost him his family. His life as well.. Ladybug and Chat Noir they both had to use their powers to balance the other one out."

Bruce absorbed the information like a sponge. He loved when Marinette forgot his age and just spoke her thoughts. Her memories. He was learning so much from her about these heroes when she drifted to narrate the past. Superheroes. If Alfred let him he was going to look this blog up on his computer later.

With such melancholy Marinette continued.

"Hawkmoth turned out to be my friend's dad. His dad was awful so it wasn't a huge surprise. But, his misuse of the magic caused the death of my friend to balance it all out. Magic isn't inherently bad, it's the side effects that people forget about and neglect to think."

Marinette let out a big sigh.

"These cookies are going to taste sour with this sad mood growing. Mon poussin, what superpower would you want if you could have one?"

She enquired trying to lighten the mood about the past as she put the cookies into the oven to cook.

Bruce mulled over the question.

"I'm not sure Mari. What you said about magic and powers seems like a bad idea. If I had a superpower, what would it cost me? I don't want to lose Alfred or you. I'd want to do it without powers''

*Chuckling* "Oh mon poussin. That's what you got from what I've said. Mon chéri, you won't lose us. You're family now"

Marinette stated before booping his nose with a floury finger.

"But you said people were heroes without powers Mari! I wanna be like that."

"So a secret ninja hero with lots of gadgets then."

Matinette giggled at the boys antics "Remember secret identities are key. No-one but your selected trusted support network can ever know them so you are all protected as well."

"Hmmm ok Mari that's good advice"

They both sat in silence after that. Marinette, still trying to recover from the memories of losing Adrien, Bruce pondering what Mari had said.

"How'd you train to be a ninja Mari?"

"Hmmm ninja training I guess Bruce."

"What's that though"

"I guess ninjas train in martial arts, gymnastics and stuff like that. Maybe in weapons. I don't really know Bruce. I've never met a ninja before."

Marinette smiled at the small boy. He reminded her of Manon with all the questions on heroes and Alya with her obsession in her teens. She never remembered being so fascinated with them but many of the children she had babysat especially in Paris had a huge fascination with them. It was times like this she missed Paris and her family there. Nonna recommending her to Alfred was a stroke of luck. Bless Tikki. She was starting to feel like she had a family over here now too.

Bruce mulled over the information Mari had given. Maybe he would get Alfred to sign up for martial arts lessons. That would help towards getting skilled enough to bring justice, even if it didn't bring his parents back.

When Alfred returned back to the manor, he found the pair giggling in the kitchen. Cookies cooling on the side as the pair pretended to do silly ninja moves while watching ninja warrior clips on Miss Marinette's phone. Alfred smiled to himself while craftily snapping a photo of the pair. Miss Marinette was an excellent babysitter and was slowly bringing happiness back into the manor. Bruce's sour moods from grief definitely improved with her presence.

Gina's recommendation was perfect.

…………………………………………………………..

Marinette had almost become a permanent feature in Bruce's life. She was round at least once a fortnight. Sometimes once a week and had been for the last 9 months and he had grown to see her as almost an Aunt or cousin or something more than a babysitter. She was becoming family. He desperately missed his parents still but having Mari and Alfred he didn't feel quite as alone on the bad days.

The pair were both doing homework in the garden while Alfred was out when Mari's phone rang. She switched to another language on answering. Bruce paused from his work and watched. He didn't know the language and felt left out not knowing what was being said. He would ask Alfred to sign him up for language lessons when he returns. The martial art lessons were awesome in the boys eyes. Language lessons would help connect more with Marinette. And help in spying and his secret hero training.

Watching her though she seemed to flit through a range of emotions in quick succession which were a blur to interpret before they went. They disappeared from her face. He couldn't read what she was thinking or feeling. Bruce knew he was fairly good at reading adults. It was helpful to avoid getting into trouble at school (and with Alfred). It was amazing and scary to not be able to do so with Mari.

"Mari…?" Bruce gently asked when the call had ended "How'd you do that?"

"Hmmm.. do what mon poussin"

"Hide your feelings. How'd you do that?"

"Hide them?" Marinette mused over what Bruce was meaning. "I didn't really hide them mon chéri. I just sifted through them as I felt them and checked if they were helpful to me or not. If it wasn't helpful I parked to deal with it at a later date so I could focus on the call with a clear head. Given who I was talking to, getting upset, angry or frustrated wouldn't benefit me at all. Why do you ask?"

"Can you teach me?!" Bruce demanded with enthusiasm. To be able to be able to do that would be so cool. To do it in games with peers and hide what he was feeling and therefore thinking would be awesome.

Marinette laughed at her temporary charges determination.

"It takes time and patience to learn mon poussin. And I started by learning to meditate and recognising my own emotions. Learning what I'm truly feeling and working out what I need to do to process it.

If we complete our homework soon I'll teach you some basic mediation and we can go from there if you like?"

"Yes!! But don't have to do homework first….. can't we skip it pleeeeeeease"

Marinette just raised her eyebrow, in a very Alfred manner, at the boy who ducked his head in return.

Much to Alfred's surprise he came home to find the pair sitting in the garden as Miss Marinette took Master Bruce through a guided meditation. He hoped that this may be the start of Bruce starting to openly process his grief.

#maribat #maribat au #ml x dc #dc x ml #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #ml crossover #marinette x bruce #marinette x alfred #plantonic #friendship #babysitting #found family

225 notes · View notes

watermelonlovershigh · 3 years

Text

Emetophobia Comfort (Harry)

You were asleep in bed next to your loving boyfriend of a year Harry. Harry was the most gentle and compassionate person you have ever meet. So every night that you lay in bed with him, you are amazed as to how you got so lucky. He takes care of your every need and makes sure you feel safe at all times. You shared everything with each other. Your biggest insecurities, your life dreams, secrets, and even your biggest fears. But there was one thing that you never told him. You don't know why you had never told him. Probably because it just never had a opportunity to arise. But as you slowly wake up from your peaceful sleep, you soon realize the reason for your awakening. You're nauseous. This may be slightly unsettling for most, but for you its your worst fear. Worst fear being sick. Emetophobia is the technical term. This is what you haven't told Harry. Because in the year you've been together you haven't gotten sick. So the issue never arose. But the longer you lay in bed with a churning feeling in your belly and a panic in your chest you contemplate on what you should do. Do you wake Harry up from his peaceful sleep and tell him your feeling sick or do you go to the bathroom alone and end up having a panic attack trying your best to swallow you vomit.

You decide on option number one. So you turn to his sleeping figure and tap on his shoulder gently. "Harry please wake up." "Please!" you plead. He lifts his head once he wakes up and turns to look at you. "Love, what's wrong. Are you okay?" he asked in his low raspy voice. "No my belly really hurts. I feel sick" you moan with tears running down your face. "Here lets get you to the bathroom love" he says nonchalantly. "No Harry I'm scared." "Scared of what love?" "I never told you this because it never got brought up but I have emetophobia. I'm scared to throw up." "It's alright love. I'll be with you in there comforting you yeah? Here bear hug me and wrap your legs around my waist and I'll carry you in there." You nod and follow his instructions without much protest because you could feel your dinner crawling up your throat. He stands up slowly to not upset your stomach anymore than it already is and you nuzzle your head into the crook of his neck while he stokes his hand up and down your back. When you finally reach the bathroom he turns on the dim lights and sets you down in front of the toilet. "Here love. I've got you. You're safe. It's alright" he whispers to you while scooping your hair into a ponytail and placing the elastic from his wrist into your hair so it's not in you face. He keeps noticing your throat swallow and coos into your ear "Let it out love. You will feel so much better. I'm right here and I'm not leaving." And though you tried really hard to keep last nights dinner in your stomach, your body had other plans and you arch forward over the toilet and forcefully gag. As you gag you start breathing heavy and tears are running down your face. With Harry knelt behind you and a hand gently rubbing your back, you finally let go. And it wouldn't stop. It just kept coming. At one point you couldn't catch you breath and started to panic even more. Harry notices and calmly tells you "Shhhh. Love, you have to calm down and breath. You will make yourself more sick." You slowly but surly calm down and when you feel slightly less nauseous, you fall back into Harrys embrace and put your face into his chest. He wraps his arms around your trembling body. "Do you know what's made you so sick my love." "No. My belly just started hurting in bed and I wasn't going to wake up but I felt so sick and I know if I came in here alone, I probably would have had a panic attack. I usually have panic attacks when I get sick because I get so scared. I also felt embarrassed to tell you I felt sick." "Why my love. Why would you feel embarrassed?" "Because puking is gross and I didn't want you to see me like this" you say quietly. "Look at me love", he says while using two of his fingers to push your face up to meet his. "There is no need to feel embarrassed. Everyone gets sick

sometimes. Even me. And though it's not a pretty sight, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else right now except here watching and helping you get sick." "But Harry, being scared of puking isn't normal. In past relationships, my partners made fun of me when I'd cry because I felt sick. So I wasn't sure if you'd think it's weird to." "Baby, I'd never judge you for this. You can't help feeling scared of throwing up. It's never a pleasant experience for anyone. Especially when you feel like you have no control of your body. And regarding you not wanting me to to see you like this. Well you might want to get used to it because I'm not leaving anytime soon and I'm sure you'll get sick many more times throughout our time together. Like morning sickness when we make beautiful babies together or when you get too drunk on a night out. Whatever the case might be, I'll be here to hold your hair back and comfort you. Hell eventually you will probably see me sick and I'd hope you'd comforted me the same way I'm doing for you. Because I love you. I'd do anything for you." With hearing him say this, you get even more emotional. Just thinking how lucky you are to have Harry in you're life. Rubbing his thumbs over you cheeks to collect your tears he softly whispers "Why are you crying my love? Do you feel sick again?" "No I'm just so grateful to have you. You're so nice to me and I don't deserve you." "Don't say that baby. You do deserve me. You are everything to me." Hearing his soft voice go through your ears, you begin to feel sleepy. "Harry?" "Yes love?" "Can we go back to bed now? I'm feeling a little better and I'm super sleepy." "Of course my love. Here let me carry you. Just rest you head on my shoulder." Harry stands up with you in his arms and bends down to flush the puke filled toilet. Then makes his way to the bedroom where he gently places you onto the bed and pulls the covers over you. "I'll be right back love. I'm going to get the rubbish bin to place beside the bed in case you feel sick again." He walks into the bathroom, picks up the bin, and places it beside your side of the bed. Then walks to his side and crawls under the covers beside you. "Here my love. Come here and place your head on my chest and if you feel sick again, please wake me up. I won't get made and you don't need to feel embarrassed." "Okay" you nod and the both of you slowly fall asleep. Throughout the rest of the night your stomach still hurt but nothing to make you feel sick and the next day you were totally fine.

AN: I suffer from emetophobia myself and there isn't a lot of fanfics dedicated to emetophobia so I decided to write my own. Let me know if you enjoyed and leave request down below.

MASTERLIST

#emetophobia #tw vomit #i feel sick #sick #solo harry #harry styles #comfort #phobia #styles #puke mention

127 notes · View notes

typical-simplelove · 3 years

Note

Can i request matthew for number 9 on the prompts list pls? <3

9. “Don’t look at me like that.” “Like what?” “Like you still love me.”

Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @boqvistsbabe @beauvibaby @heatherawoowoo @rmaye (Do you want to be tagged in my fics? Fill out this form.)

You walked into the private room at the restaurant. You took a deep breath. You could do this, right? You could celebrate your engagement to a man who made you feel trapped. You could celebrate your engagement with a man who you mostly loved. It was going to be okay.

“It looks nice in here,” Jordan tells you. “You and your mother went all out.”

You nod. You both did. Somehow, your mother knew that you truly didn’t want to marry Jordan, so she let you have control of what you wanted. You were having a dream engagement party but with the wrong person. You weren’t celebrating the marriage you wanted to be having.

“I just don’t get why we had to have the party in Calgary,” Jordan says. “It’s not like our families live here in Calgary.”

“Jordan, we’ve been over this,” you say. “My friends are all here, and some of them probably won’t be able to come to the wedding. Having this here allows for me to have one last hurrah before the wedding and the move to South Carolina.”

That was partially true. You wanted to have the wedding in Calgary, but Jordan’s mother insisted that it be in South Carolina. Also, she insisted that you both move to South Carolina. You fiddled with the engagement ring on your finger. It felt too heavy, too big, too trapping. You wanted the engagement party in Calgary so that you could say one last goodbye to him. You wanted to say goodbye to the real love of your life -- Matthew.

“Yeah, sure, let’s not fight about this. People are arriving.”

After about an hour of guests arriving, the guests that you truly wanted to see began to arrive.

“Jacob!” you say and give him a hug.

“Hey, yn!” he replies. “Congratulations on the engagement.”

“Mhm,” you say. Jacob knew you better than anyone; he knows you truly don’t want to marry Jordan. He also knows that you’re itching to ask one certain question.

“I’m pretty sure he’ll be here,” Jacob whispers in your ear.

“Slow down there, buddy,” Jordan interrupts. “Don’t you go whispering into my fiance’s ear. It’ll make me think you’re trying to take her from me.”

“Jordan,” you warn.

“Yn, really?”

“I’m going to go outside for a moment,” you say. “I’m really overwhelmed right now.”

You walk out of the restaurant and walk outside. You couldn’t do this. You wanted to be with one other man, not Jordan.

“Yn, you okay?” someone says beside you.

You look at him. “Matthew?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Matthew says. Despite breaking up over two years ago, Matthew still called you sweetheart. “Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you lie.

“Okay, now that you’ve perfected your lie, care to tell me what’s really going on?” Matthew really could read you well.

“I feel trapped,” you tell him.

“Why do you feel trapped? Do you not love him?”

You look into Matthew’s eyes and try to express every emotion you have in just one look.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he says knowing exactly what you were trying to convey.

“Like what?” you ask.

“Like you still love me.”

“Matthew…”

“No, don’t. Yn, you’re getting married.”

“I have to go; I can’t do this.”

You walk away. Yeah, you still loved Matthew. You still loved Matthew way too much. You thought you’d be marrying him, but you weren’t.

Two hours later, you and Jordan are called to make a speech to thank everyone for coming. Jordan gets up and puts his arm possessively around your waist. He always was jealous of your friends and community you had in Calgary. You feel trapped. You don’t want to be here; you have to get out of this situation.

“Yn, do you want to say anything?” Jordan asks and hands you the microphone after he makes his speech.

You nod. You scan the room to see if he’s in here. He is. Matthew’s sitting there with his teammates and looking at you like you’re the world to him. Matthew can see that you’re nervous, so he flashes you a wink. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. You put the microphone down. “Jordan, I can’t do this.”

“So, she doesn’t want to make a speech, that’s fine,” Jordan says, trying to brush it off.

“No, I can’t marry you. I don’t love you; I’m in love with someone else.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” you say and give him your engagement ring.You exit the restaurant in hopes to get away. You get outside and walk a few blocks away from the restaurant when you finally break down. You never thought you’d have the guts to do that, but you did. You stood up for yourself. You weren’t sure how or when he followed you, but somehow you ended up in the embrace of Matthew. The embrace you longed to have.

“Matthew,” you whisper into Matthew’s chest.

“Hey, shhhh, it’s going to be okay,” Matthew tells you. “Everyone could tell you were miserable. The fact that Joshua couldn’t tell means he didn’t really know you.”

“Jordan,” you correct.

“It doesn’t matter,” Matthew says. “I’m here for you in any way you need, okay?”

You nod. Wait, this was what you wanted, but was Matthew on the same page as you? “Matthew, why are you doing this?”

“Because you’re crying.”

“Yeah, but anyone else could be comforting me, but it’s you who’s here. Why?”

“Because I love you, and I never stopped loving you,” Matthew says. “I almost didn’t come because seeing you with Joseph really broke my heart.”

“Jordan,” you correct.

“Doesn’t matter,” he says. “What matters is that I’m here, and I’m going to help you with whatever you need. We will go at a pace that works for the both of us, and one day we will hopefully be here.”

“Crying over an ended engagement?” you tease with a smile. You know he meant that the two of you getting married, but the opportunity was too great to pass up to tease him.

“You know what I mean, Yn, and I put a smile on your face. I’d take that as a win.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“We’ll be okay,” Matthew tells you. “Most importantly, though, you’re going to be okay because you’re a strong woman. You’re going to be okay even if it takes a while.”

Yeah, you’ll be okay.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fic #nhl writing #Claudia writes

98 notes · View notes

inlovewithhisblueeyes · 3 years

Text

The Great Jewish Cook-off

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Jewish Reader

Prompt: Latkes from the 8 Days of Henry-kkah

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Mentions of sadness and depression in regards to the holidays and the current pandemic.

A/N: Happy Hanukkah. I wanted to get this done for the first day, but my depression reared it’s ugly head. I decided to start off this challenge by writing for my favorite bear. I’m feeling a bit homesick due to the fact I’m normally back home with my family at this time of year. So this piece reflects a bit of that.

A delicate blanket made of snowflakes had nestled itself over the streets of Minneapolis. Normally by the time Walter was evicted from his office at the station, this picturesque scene would have been turned into mucky slush. However, with the impending snowstorm on top of the current stay at home order, the snowy streets remained relatively undisturbed. Walking towards his car, he took in the sight before him; it was different to be caught up in it rather than watching this winter wonderland from his office window.

The tired detective let out a groan as he clamored into his freezing car. The sun was just beginning to set and bright oranges and reds danced across the wintery whiter stage that was this city. He quickly turned on the ignition and peeled out of his parking spot, eager to be out of the cold and in the arms of his girl. The ride home was rather uneventful due to the denizens of this icy city finally listening to restrictions set in place. At least, that’s what he had hoped. The amount of times Walter had been called to break up a party in the past few months would have astounded him had he not been dealing with humanity’s worst of the worst in homicide.

In addition, Faye had been participating in remote learning, which allowed her to blow up his phone throughout the day. It was bad enough that he had be relegated from homicide to deal with those covidiots, but having a stir-crazy teenager attached to her phone when she should be paying attention to her classes was surely wearing him down. He went from having a phone that could stay charged for a few days straight to having to charge it nightly due to his daughter’s antics. In hindsight, it was better than her spending her ample free time messaging strangers online. All he wanted now was a quiet night at home with his girlfriend; perhaps, cuddled up on the couch with some wine and watching whatever silly holiday movie piqued their interest.

The first thing he noticed as he pulled into the driveway was that your car was parked out front, yet the lights were off in the house. It was still rather light out so it wouldn’t have been the biggest deal in the world if Walter wasn’t a cop. Nevertheless, it caused the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up as he exited the vehicle. The curly haired man quickly removed his gun from his holster and began to walk towards the front door. With a swift turn of the door knob, he could tell that you had once again left the door unlocked. This was a continued point of contention in the relationship as the horrors of that dreadful day a few years back were ever present in his mind.

Granted, the two of you had not even met yet and most of the details of that brutal case were never to be disclosed to the public. Walter carefully opened the door and stepped into the house. He heard the crackle of the fire in the next room and quickly ascertained that his worst fears hadn’t come true. Sliding his gun back into the holster, Walter quietly toed off his boots and hung his jacket up in the closet. Then he took off his mask and set it on the table by the door. His sock covered feet padded against the hard wooden floor of the entryway as he made his way towards the living room. The electric fire was the only source of light in the room and he could scarcely make your sleeping form out on the couch.

It wasn’t like you to be asleep this early, but ever since the world shut down, things have been rather different around here. Walter silently leant down to give you a kiss on the cheek and to check to make sure you weren’t suffering from a fever. Grabbing his phone from his back pocket, he made his way over to the kitchen to get started on dinner. Just as he was about to go through the sea of texts from Faye, the detective noticed a faint smell of burnt food. He set his phone on the counter and quickly flicked on the lights.

Walter immediately saw the culprit of the smell sitting on the stove. The pan that was there had something black seared to its insides, yet it was too charred for him to tell further. Whatever you had made had clearly gone awry and you had quickly cleaned up almost all traces of your failed attempt. You were a good cook and always roped him into whatever cooking show was on tv; even Faye would join the two of you whenever she would stay over. You had spent your down time during the quarantine trying out new recipes; some were good enough to be added to the meal rotation, while others had failed to win approval across the board.

It was no bother to him to take your place as the cook tonight if it meant you had one less thing weighing you down. This time of year was hard on most people and adding in a pandemic only made things more difficult. Tossing the pan into the sink for a well deserved deep cleaning at a later time, Walter noticed his phone light up on the counter. Another text from Faye joined the countless others and now was as good a time as any to go through them.

Walter had to thank whoever blessed him with his daughter and her daily text spams. The mystery of the burned food had been solved without having to wake you. Clearly, you had a bit of trouble with the latkes, but luckily for you now he was home to assist in anyway you needed. Hanukkah dinner could be a team effort. The curly haired man made quick work of getting the pan you had been using clean before he made his way over to the couch you were on. Getting down on bended knee in front of your sleeping form, he gently placed a hand on you to wake you up.

“Sweetheart…would you consider rejoining the land of the living?” He whispered.

“Too cozy,” you grumbled as you pulled an arm up to cover your eyes.

“I bet you are, but you won’t be if I take this blanket,” Walter chuckled.

That got you to sit up and stare blearily at him. “You wouldn’t dare let me freeze” you replied to which he raised an eyebrow at you as if to say try me.

You sighed heavily and pulled the blanket off you before folding and returning it to its spot over the back of the couch. Your bear of a man sat down beside you and gently pat his thigh, the universal signal for you to come cuddle up on his lap. You eagerly shot up and made yourself cozy on his lap, burying your face in his neck and breathing him in. His hand came up to slowly stroke your back as the two of you cuddled in silence.

“What’s on your mind, love?” He questioned as he kissed the top of your head.

You tried to hold back the tears that were eager to pour out, “I miss my family, Walt. I’m so used to spending at least some of the holidays with them. Then my cousins decided to have a latke cook-off since we can’t get together and I burned them. I have no idea how I did it. It was awful and it made me wish that my gram was here to help me fix it. B-b-but she’s back home and I’m here and I don’t know when I’ll get to cook with her again.” The last part came out in as sob.

“Shhhhh honey. Shhhh. It’s ok,” Walter murmured into your hair and he hugged you tightly as you cried into his neck.

It took a few minutes for all your sadness and frustration to be sobbed out. The detective remained the strong beacon of light that his girl needed to get through this storm of emotions. He whispered his love and praises into your hair, never letting go of you even for a second. You needed to get everything out that you been bundling up in inside. When the last remaining tears had fallen and your sniffles had abated, you slowly lifted your head to look at him.

“Well I think together we can try and kick those cousins of yours’ arses, sweetheart. What do you say?”

“I’d say let’s try to save Hanukkah.”

“Good. Up we get,” Walter said, giving a small swat to your butt.

You quickly clamored off of his lap and hurried into the kitchen to get out the supplies. Walter followed after you and waited for further instructions. The two of started cleaning and shredding the potatoes. You even turned it into a game to see who shred the most potatoes the fastest and it turned out a tie. Soon you added the rest of the ingredients to the bowl while he heated the pan. Walter and you worked together as a perfect team; joking around and laughing as you fried the latkes.

Walter set the table as you continued to cook up you Hanukkah meal. He grabbed the applesauce and ketchup since that what you recommended to accompany them. When you had finally finished cooking the last few and added them to the growing pile, you took the precious cargo over to your eager boyfriend. Each latke turned out a perfect golden brown that was hard on the outside and softer in the center. With the first bite, the two of you moaned at the salty, oily goodness.

“Now you see why we only make them once a year,” You hummed in between bites.

“I do indeed. Faye asked you to save her some.”

“Well we did make enough to feed an army. The only issue is you big guy,” You teased,” But yes I can save her some.”

You finished the latke you were on and padded over to the kitchen to grab a container before returning. You carefully placed the latkes inside and headed back to the kitchen to stick them in the freezer for the next time Faye was over. The two of you contentedly ate as many latkes as your stomachs could handle. With your stomachs and hearts full, the table was cleared and you both returned to curl up by the fire.

“Hey Walter,” You started, smiling up at him.

“Yes, love.”

“Thank you.”

#henry cavill #8 Days of Henrykkah #8DaysofHenrykkah #happy hanukkah #Hanukkah writing challenge #walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #night hunter #nomis #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #the cavillry #henry cavill fandom #jewish reader #hanukkah #jewish writers

139 notes · View notes

amarimaryllis · 3 years

Text

I Liked You So Much, We Lost It (Iwaizumi x Reader)

Pairing: Iwaizumi/Reader

Prompt/Summary: You and Iwaizumi are so in love with each other that the only way the universe can separate you both is to put 8,577 kilometers worth of land and sea between the two of you (spoiler: the universe actually does put 8,577 kilometers worth of land and sea between the two of you).

Tags: Fluff, Angst

Note: I used she/her pronouns for the reader, Lots of timeskips, Inspired by Ysabelle’s “I Liked You So Much, We Lost It”, Sequel to “I Like You So Much, You’ll Know It” but can be read as a standalone fic

Warnings: Angst, Very Slight Manga Spoilers, Slight Canon Divergence (you won’t even notice it if you don’t read into it so let’s shhhh, I mean this entire fanfic is a canon divergence but let’s not 😌)

Almost everyone in Aoba Johsai knew that you and Iwaizumi were together. So many people had invested themselves in the friends to lovers situation that you guys had that it was impossible for them to not find out that you guys were finally together. Nearly three years of you guys just tip-toeing around each other and it finally paid off.

You guys were practically inseparable since the day that Iwaizumi brought you to the convenience store to shelter yourselves from the rain. If one was to see either of you, it was sure that the other would come around eventually. You guys were so deeply in love with each other that nothing could separate you. However, months had passed, and in a few weeks, it would be time for you all to graduate. You never really knew what Iwaizumi’s plans were after Seijoh. You just trusted that everything would fall into place as it always did.

“Hajime, why are you avoiding my gaze?” You pout from the floor of his bedroom, sitting with your legs crossed as you basked in the warmth that his hoodie brought.

Iwaizumi looks up from his work to give you a small smile. “You look too cute in my jacket.”

“And?” You blush slightly, but you don’t let him fully change the topic.

“It’s distracting, and I have this final project to finish.” Iwaizumi turns to look back at the paper.

“Project? Didn’t we finish them all last week?” You raise a brow, trying to take a look at the paper before Iwaizumi hastily pulls it away from your view. “Hey, Hajime… What is that?”

“It’s nothing.” Iwaizumi’s body is tense, avoiding your gaze as he fiddles with the pen.

“Okay.” You can feel your heart beating quicker. Worry filled your veins, but you try to tell yourself that you’re probably just overreacting. “I trust you.”

Iwaizumi sighs before he stands up and goes to your side. He plops behind you, pulling you in between his legs before he wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on your shoulder. “I’m gonna miss this.”

You smile at his touch, closing your eyes to bask in the warmth that he emits before his words sink. “You’re talking as if I’m gonna be leaving.”

You giggle lightly before you turn around and wrap your arms around Iwaizumi’s neck, pressing your forehead onto his. “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry.”

Iwaizumi looks conflicted as he stares into your eyes, his grip on your waist getting tighter with each passing second. You can see his eyes swirl with a million different things, and it scares you. What was it that had him acting like this?

“Hajime—“

Iwaizumi cuts you off with a kiss.

It’s desperate. The way his lips move against yours, searching for something, longing for something. His lips were soft against yours, but the emotions you could feel swirling inside him made his movements hasty and thoughtless. It was like he was trying to forget something, erasing whatever it was that ate him up on the inside as he deepened the kiss.

He pulls away, giving you a chance to breathe before he’s hoisting you up and dropping you on his bed, hovering on top of you as he gazes into your eyes.

His eyes were teary, and this prompts you to speak. “Hajime what’s wrong?”

Iwaizumi drops to your side on the bed before he pulls you on top of him as he wraps his arms around you. “Promise me.”

“Promise you what?” The serious tone laced in Iwaizumi’s words makes your heart beat quicker, the fear of something—you didn’t know what exactly made you feel afraid at that moment—settling itself deep into your chest. “Hajime, what’s going on?”

“Promise me you’ll stay with me.” Iwaizumi whispers, his arms wrapping tighter around you as if he was afraid that you were going to disappear. “Please.”

“I promise.” You grab Iwaizumi’s cheeks with your hand before you press a quick peck on his lips. “Now tell me what’s going on. You seem so stressed lately, and it’s kind of making me worried.”

“I’m…” Iwaizumi’s voice is strained as if the words stuck in his throat were laced with thorns that wound him as he struggles to let it out. “I’m gonna study Sports Sciences.”

You giggle lightly. “Why are you worried? You’re gonna do great—“

“In California.” Iwaizumi whispers, but you hear it nonetheless.

It doesn’t sink in. You don’t want it to. As the anchors of that statement plunge deeper into the ocean of your system, the currents that try to keep you alive raise themselves to fight against the weight of the anchors. It’s futile, the waves of emotions, thoughts rage until they’re slowly drowning you in the uncertainty of your future. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“What?” Iwaizumi sits up, which in turn makes you sit up as well. “No. I’m just… I don’t want to lose you just because I’m leaving.”

“Then why are you so stressed?” You could feel your eyes well up with relief, but no matter how much you look on the bright side, there’s still that gnawing feeling in your stomach. “You’re not losing me unless you break up with me, idiot.”

“Hey, don’t cry.” Iwaizumi pouts lightly at you, making you laugh at the way he looked. He smiles, his heart swelling as he sees you laugh. “Are you sure you’re okay with it? I’m gonna be all the way in California. The timezones won’t match. I’ll be busy on some days. I won’t be here to hug you or kiss you. Which is pretty damn unfortunate cause I really like kissing you—“

“Iwaizumi Hajime.” Iwaizumi stops when he hears you call his name while grabbing his cheeks.

“Yes, love?” Iwaizumi responds immediately. It was as if months of being with you had trained him to do so when you called out his full name.

“I love you, and kilometers of land and sea isn’t gonna change that.” You smile before pressing a kiss on his lips. “Stop worrying.”

“Do that again.” Iwaizumi says as he eyes your lips.

“Do what?” You decide to tease him, acting as if you didn’t know that he wanted another kiss.

“Y/N.” He groans as he glares at you playfully. “You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t.” You have a shit-eating grin on your face.

“Fine, be like that.” Iwaizumi huffs before he pulls you for another kiss.

You can feel him smile against your lips as you wrap your arms around his neck.

That was 10 months ago. Iwaizumi left in July, making it a total of six months that you haven’t seen him in person. The first month went off without a hitch. Video chats every day, messages shared regardless of the other’s time zone, and other methods of communication were used just so you guys felt like you were still there with each other in person. Unfortunately, it didn’t go that well.

If you were to describe what happened, you would say that you could compare it to a candle. It burns brightly at first before it slowly melts the way and the candle comes crashing down, snuffing out its flame with its own wax. Each month that passed was a step closer to the end that you both desperately tried to ignore.

You laid in your bed, snuggled into your blankets as you tried to seek warmth. The jacket that Iwaizumi gave you that you wore provided no warmth. It may have eased the cold that the rain brought, but it did nothing to ease the winter that stormed within your chest. Despite the bitter cold, you held on. After all, every winter has to end, right?

You frowned as you looked at one of the pictures that Iwaizumi was tagged in. A blonde girl with her arm around his shoulder, and Iwaizumi with a bright smile. The kind of smile he used to wear in pictures with you.

You could feel anger in your veins, jealousy mingling with it as it brought your blood to a light simmer. You were being unreasonable, you knew that, but six months without Iwaizumi was getting to you, and seeing some other girl doing what you desperately wanted to, but not being able to, made an envious feeling grow in your chest. It didn’t help that she wore the jacket you knew all too well: A jacket you gave Iwaizumi before he left for California. Your eyes teared up at the fact.

You shut your phone and your eyes, ready to turn in for the night before the familiar ringtone fills your ears. You wait. You don’t answer immediately. You let the phone ring a bit more. Your irrational side coming out to play as you hoped that maybe Iwaizumi would feel just as cold as you if you answered him later than you usually did.

You pick up.

“Good morning, love.” Iwaizumi’s face pops up on your skin, a bright smile on his face as the beginnings of the morning sun kiss his skin. The background was moving, and the camera was unstable, which meant that Iwaizumi was probably walking to his class somewhere, “I’m sorry for calling at this time. It’s probably late there but I missed— Wait, are you okay? You look like you just cried.”

You saw that Iwaizumi had stopped walking, the background behind him as stagnant as the words stuck in your throat.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?” Iwaizumi furrows his brows. “Talk to me.”

You begin to speak. “I don’t think—“

The lightning strikes outside, and a bright flash fills your room. You laughed bitterly in your head, perhaps it was a warning from the universe.

You change your approach. “In the hundred different futures you imagined… In the Dateko game…”

You struggle to find your words.

Iwaizumi smiles, but it looks quite forced to you. “The hundred different futures I imagined with you when you cheered for me in the Dateko game?”

“Yeah.” You almost feel guilty as you finalize the words you’re about to say in your head.

“What about those?” Iwaizumi asks, ever the patient and understanding boyfriend he was, but you could see it. The glint in his eyes that he had whenever he wanted to finish something. The look he had in his eyes whenever he just wanted to get things over with like they were some sort of… Inconvenience.

“Did you...” You shift in your bed, second-guessing your words as you sit up and fiddle with the hem of Iwaizumi’s jacket. “Was there a future that went like this?”

“Like this?” Iwaizumi looks confused. “Where I call you in the middle of a street? Not really? That’s too specific, honestly.” He chuckles and your heart sinks.

“No, not that.” You say solemnly. “A future where we don’t work.”

“What?” Iwaizumi looks stunned, and for a second, your heart races at the sight of him looking as he did before… Before he went to California. “What do you mean? Y/N?”

“I just—“

“HAJIME!” You could hear a woman’s voice on the other side. Years of learning English made sure that you understood what she said without a problem “Ready to go?”

Iwaizumi looks away from you as he turns to the source, a smile painting his face. “Of course, just give me a second.”

Your heart sinks in realization.

That’s how he smiled at you in the past.

“I’m gonna go.” You choke out as tears flow down your cheeks. “Have a good day, Iwaizumi-san.”

You shut the phone.

You cry. You didn’t need to hear it fall from Iwaizumi’s lips. You didn’t need to have it confirmed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and you knew that he had feelings for that girl, whoever the hell she was. You knew that he probably only kept you because he didn’t want to hurt you. It wasn’t like he didn’t love you anymore. He probably did, it’s just that he found someone who was… There. Someone who wasn’t in a different place. Someone he could hug anytime he wanted to. It’s unfortunate that it wasn’t you, but maybe you should’ve seen it coming.

So you let go, and it was timely. What started underneath the rain, ended under it. The warmth of the first confession was washed away by the droplets, leaving nothing but the cold to soak deep into your system as you sobbed into your bed, hastily pulling the jacket off of your frame.

You make sure that Iwaizumi never gets to contact you. You had left him a message: a cruel “I’m breaking up with you, I’m sorry,” and nothing more. Maybe that would hurt him enough to make him feel less guilty about making moves on the other girl. You knew it was stupid to just leave him like that, but you just wanted it to stop. You hated the feeling of uncertainty. You hated the feeling of not being able to do anything. If you had to hurt yourself in the process of finding your peace of mind, then so be it.

Years pass and you’ve graduated. You’ve moved on. It wasn’t an easy process, but you pulled through. There were moments you just so wanted to desperately call Iwaizumi and crawl back into his arms, apologizing and all, but you stop yourself each time. You cut off all contact with him, you weren’t going to waste that. However, you knew that no matter how moved on you are, some part of you will always love him… And that’s okay. You’re okay. That’s the only thing that mattered.

Currently, you were in a convenience store, grabbing a quick snack before you went to the stadium to watch the volleyball match with Oikawa, who arrived from Argentina a few days back and wanted to meet up. The setter was probably looking for milkbread in one of the aisles, so you took your sweet time in picking a drink and snack because the setter would probably be shocked by the new variety of milkbread choices that popped up while he was still in Argentina.

Your phone buzzes.

Flatass: I’m at the table near the back, slowpoke. Get your ass here.

You roll your eyes with a grin before you text back.

You: You’re just jealous I have more ass than you.

You don’t get a reply. You shrug and pay for your items before you walk to the back of the store to eat with Oikawa.

“Oikawa—“ You stop at the sight.

Instead of Oikawa on the chair, it was Iwaizumi, still as handsome as he was years ago.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi smiles. “Do you mind if I watch with you guys? Oikawa had an extra ticket and who was I to decline—“

“I don’t mind.” You smile, nothing but happiness filling your chest as you reunite with an old friend.

A/N: I like to pretend that this part of the storyline doesn’t exist 💖. Also, this was written before Iwaizumi Hajime (27) Athletic Trainer was a thing so please excuse the ending.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #genre.angstfluff #cont.spoilers #tw angst

46 notes · View notes

atomicfroot · 3 years

Text

Say hello to...

HELL CORPORATION

They convert convert Hell's energy to energy for the city! In short, they are...kinda the opposite of Lobotomy Corp?? Kinda. They are 2nd place, right behind Lobotomy Corp. They took H corp's nest right after Garion destroyed the last H corp 10 years ago.

Let's move onto the layout!

Here we are. So as you can see, the layout is very similar to L corp, yet you can still see some differences.

Top layers: "Limbo"

-Control Department - Barachiel

I must admit, She's pretty commanding. Which is good! ...Though she's pretty bad at showing her emotions. She means well, but most people take what she says as a threat.

-Safety Department - Uriel

Calm and collected. He's actually pretty laxed out of the others. When people make mistakes, he just lets it slide and tries help them on their problems. That is if he feels like committing to them.

-Training Department - Selaphiel

Despite her small and cute appearance, She's actually very..STRONG. She takes no shit from no one. Pretty cruel when she trains the newbies sent to her department. Short hot tempered too. Yikes. But in the end, she goes a bit more soft to people she's close to or appreciates.

-Information Department - Gabriel (Yes i know yesod but shhhh it's just a code name along with the others)

He's...so fucking tired of everyone's shit. Yet he refuses to sleep or rest, as much as he wants to. A workaholic if you will. Speaks in a monotone voice most of the time, indicating that he doesn't care. Dead people? "Sucks to be them I guess. Now get back to work."

Middle Layers: "Heresey"

-Central Command A - Jeremiel

Short tempered boy with a sharp tongue. He will berate you on things that he doesn't agree with. Calling you names and such, as well as pulling out facts on why you are wrong?? Though he has a hard time apologizing when he has to. Aside from that, he can be a nice good boy. Mostly just because he wants something from you.

-Central Command B - Jegudiel

An absolute sweetheart!! She's rather shy and more polite than her brother. Speaking in that soft tone of hers. Unfortunately, she's a bit of a pushover. Glad she has Jeremiel to help her out.

-Welfare Department - Michael

Holy shit...this guy is the definition of creepy and sadistic. He takes pleasure in punishing others. Like Selaphiel, he takes no shit from anybody. (They get along very well! Brother-Sister relationship) He has a MAJOR god complex as well. He likes to take those down a peg or two, so he would remain on top. The man being a major perfectionist.

-Disciplinary Department - Raphael

Like others, he is strict and commanding. Yet he acts like a mother hen. He acts like he doesn't care about your wellbeing but in reality, he cares very much so. Also he has turtle's running around in his department. Don't ask or he'll throw one at you.

Lower layer: "Treachery"

...Wait a minute I forgot there was a 10 image limit..man..as much as i want to fit them all in one post, i suppose i would have to make a separate post.

Please stay tuned if you are interested with the rest!

The next post would introduce the 3 CEOs along with the lower layer!

Part 2 here!!

https://atomicfroot.tumblr.com/post/641305596672491520/hell-corporation

#lobotomy corporation #Fanmade #Art #spriteart #sprite edit #Hell corporation #library of ruina

46 notes · View notes

hiscyarika · 4 years

Text

Need You Now

Word Count: 2.2k

Pairing: Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x Reader

Summary: It’s been a year and a half since Reader left Jack, but when she receives a voicemail late one night she wonders if she made the right decision.

Warning(s): Angst, Mentions of Injury

A/N: This is the first thing that I’ve written for Whiskey, so hopefully he’s not too out of character. I love that we’ve all collectively agreed to flip canon the bird and make him absolute husband material though. Here is the instrumental that I listened to while I wrote.

Masterlist

Tag Lists

“Darlin’, I know I’m the last person on this earth you wanna hear from… I don’t know. I guess I just needed to hear your voice. You don’t have to call me back, sugar. I understand… I won’t call again.”

You’ve been sitting on the end of your couch for a few hours now, listening to that voicemail over and over again. There’s a glass of Jim Beam in your hand, the second or third of the night—you haven’t been paying attention. You hate the taste and the way it burns on the way down, but you can’t drink Jack Daniels anymore without thinking of him.

It’s been almost a year and a half since you left Jack. You loved him, you still do, but being with him was killing you. You’d always known that what he did for a living was dangerous, but it wasn’t until you were finally cleared by Statesmen that you truly understood the risks that Jack took every time he walked out the door. You couldn’t take it anymore. Every time he left the house you would feel nothing but endless worry until he came home. There were close calls. Sometimes he would come home so beat up and bruised that he could hardly stand to be touched. And though he’d never admit it, you knew that there were parts of the job that taxed him mentally as well.

Last night must have been one of those nights. He’d called in the middle of the night. You hadn’t listened to his voicemail until this morning. It’s all you’ve thought about all day.

The sound of his lilting southern accent sounding so broken and desperate, it’s enough to break your heart a thousand times over. And with the light slur that accompanies his words, you guess that he’d gotten himself good and drunk too.

You sigh and pick up the phone again, a crushing weight sitting on your chest as you continue to debate calling him back. You don’t want him to suffer alone, but you know that calling him will be the opening of a door that you closed and locked when you left him. Part of you wants to be able to see Jack again, to let him hold you in his arms the way he used to. You’ve never met another man like him, never met someone who made you feel so safe and loved and cherished the way a woman was supposed to be. It’s a shame that his job came between you. You would have married Jack Daniels if he ever asked.

That though leaves you with tears burning at your eyes, the life that the two of you could have had together. Jack always struck you as the settling down type, and you certainly didn’t have anything against spending the rest of your life by his side. The first tear makes its way down your cheek as you foolishly allow yourself to envision it all.

You’re ready to dial his number when you hear a knock at the door.

The sudden noise brings you out of your emotional state, immediately sobering you up as you try and think who could possibly be at your door this late at night. You put the glass down on the coffee table, slowly rising from the couch. All the while your gaze is fixed on the door, waiting for another knock or for someone to speak. Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You grab the baseball bat you keep in the foyer for times like this. Living alone, one can never be too careful.

With the bat gripped in your left hand, you slowly make your way to the door. Your hand trembles slightly as you remove the chain and unlock the deadbolt, and you have to take a deep breath before you can bring yourself to turn the knob. You open up just enough to peek through the crack.

The bat goes clattering to the floor when you see who it is.

You swing the door all the way open, leaving you face to face with him.

“Jack?...,” you breathe, hardly able to believe that he’s standing in front of you.

“Hey there, darlin’. You weren’t gonna take my head off with that baseball bat were you?,” he quips, but his voice is quiet and strained, not at all oozing the confidence and charm that you were used to.

You let out a sigh, trying to rid yourself of the tension that had mounted before. “I mean, I don’t usually get visitors, especially not in the middle of the night,” you reply, though not at all in a chiding manner.

“I didn’t wake you did I?,” he asks.

You shake your head. “No. But Jack, honey, what are you doing here?” The pet name escapes your lips before you can even think about it.

You watch as the whites of his eyes turn red. He’s absolutely silent.

You frown, knowing that it’s taking every fiber of his will to keep himself together. Tears and shame well up in his eyes as he faces you. You know he’s aware of the line he’s crossed by coming to you in this state, but right now you feel nothing but worry for the man standing before you. It takes you back to the nights that he would come home to you, still sporting some of the Statesmen tactical gear because he had to get to you as soon as he could. Those were the nights you’d held him until the break of dawn, reassuring him that everything was going to be alright. Those were the nights you watched Agent Whiskey break Jack Daniels, and you know that’s what you’re about to witness now.

You step back, gesturing for him to come inside with you. You close the door behind him, turning around as he hangs the Stetson on your coat rack. He stands with his head hung slightly, clearly not sure where to go from here.

“Come here, Jack,” you murmur. He’s got his arms around you before you can even fully open yours as an invitation, nearly crushing you against his chest and burying his face in your shoulder. Your arms are around his neck, and you gently card your fingers through his hair. Your chest swells as you feel him beginning to shake.

“Shhhh. Honey, I’m right here. You’re okay,” you whisper, trying your best to soothe him with words. You already know from experience that it won’t do much good.

“I’m so sorry, angel. I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t be doing this to you. It’s not fair. It’s not right,” his words are desperate and rushed, almost panicked.

You shake your head. “No, Jack. It’s alright. I would never, ever turn you away,” you assure him. “But I need you to tell me what happened. I can’t help you until I know what’s going on.”

You feel him take a deep breath, steading himself before he tries to speak again. He separates himself from you now, looking back down into your eyes, but he never releases his hold on you completely.

“It was a solo mission. Champ and I both agreed I could get the job done just fine on my own. But there were more of ‘em there than we thought. I took care of it, but…” He can’t bring himself to say the words, but instead turns his head to show you a wound on his temple. You immediately know that it’s a graze from a bullet, and the sight of it makes your stomach churn. He’d been alone. There would have been no one there to save him if he’d been hit. You knew about the Aquagel that Ginger Ale used to bring the Statesmen back from injuries like that, but it wouldn’t have been any good to Jack then.

You find panic rising in your chest at the thought, cutting off your breathing as you wonder if you ever would have found out what happened to him. Would you have just carried on with your life with no idea that he was gone?

“And...I know that’s why you left, darlin’. But I just couldn’t stomach the thought that I could have been dead and gone without ever seeing you again,” he whispers, closing his eyes and hanging his head again. He’s right. Your fear had driven a wedge between you, and yet you find that you’re glad that he came to you. Maybe you were wrong to give up on him the way that you did.

You gently take his face in your hands, your thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones. You feel him lean into one of your palms and he pulls you close to him again, resting his forehead against yours. His nose is just barely touching yours. Before you can stop yourself, you lean in closer, eliminating the last inch or two between you.

As your lips meet his, something inside Jack finally breaks, and salt mixes with the taste of him that you had nearly forgotten. He keeps one arm wrapped strong and tight around your waist, but then his free hand tangles with your hair, an attempt to bring you impossibly closer than you already are. You feel his trembling breaths against your lips, and you wonder how the hell you ever let yourself leave this man.

“I love you, Jack,” you tell him, opening your eyes to look at him again. Your words cause him to do the same, and he seems shocked as he looks down at you. Suddenly he’s separating himself from you, and you worry that you’ve upset him even more. He puts his hands on your hips, never losing eye contact with you, and slowly begins to lower himself to his knees. You quickly grab him by the forearms, trying to keep him on his feet, but you don’t have the strength to hold him up. “What are you doing?,” you ask desperately, confused and scared that there’s something wrong with him.

“Darlin’, I need you to come home. I’ll work something out with Champ so I can be home more and you won’t have to worry so much. But baby please… I can’t do this anymore, not without you...,”

He’s on his knees.

Begging.

You bring your hand up to stifle the cries that escape your lips. You love this man so much that it’s breaking you to see him this way, to know that you are the one that did this to him.

You sink to your knees in front of him, putting both hands on his shoulders as a way to keep yourself balanced. You nod. “Yes, Jack,” you breathe.

And then he smiles, really smiles, for the first time since you opened the door, and takes you back into his arms. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, slowly drying your tears as you savor the closeness of the man you love and the reality that you’re not going to live another day without him by your side.

“God, I love you so much, darlin’,” he says.

“I love you too,” you reply, finally smiling yourself.

You stay right there for a long while, each finding peace in the presence of the other. Until a soft yawn escapes your lips, reminding you just how late it is.

“Let’s go to bed,” you whisper, forcing yourself to sit upright again.

Jack nods in agreement, brushing your hair back behind your ear. He moves to stand, taking ahold of your arms and bringing you to your feet with him, but then he sweeps you off of them again, carrying you bridal style down the hall. You can’t help but giggle, but then again you’re not surprised. This isn’t the first time he’s done it and you know that it won't be the last.

With the bathroom being the only other room in your apartment, it doesn’t take him long to find your bedroom. Jack steps into the room, gently kicking the door shut behind him. After carefully laying you down, he sheds his jacket and lets it fall to the floor, and it’s soon joined by his boots, socks, and jeans. While he undresses, you curl up under the thin comforter, your smile brightening as he finally joins you. He reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp, but then settles down beside you.

Jack holds you close to him, letting you rest with your head on his chest. You feel his warm lips press lightly to the crown of your head. You hum softly in content, closing your eyes and letting his heartbeat begin to lull you to sleep. “I love you, Jack,” you murmur in the dark.

“I love you too, darlin’,” he says, squeezing you gently.

It’s not long before you hear light snores emanating from his lips, and you know that means that he’ll be out for a while. You follow him in sleep soon after, finding better rest now that you’re back in his arms.

You’ll never let him go again.

---

Tags: @theforceofdisney @aerynwrites @hail-doodles @murdermewithbooks @swimmingbyrd @themandjalorian @longitud-de-onda

#agent whiskey #jack daniels #agent whiskey (jack daniels)#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey (jack daniels) x reader #kingsman: the golden circle #kingsman

570 notes · View notes

emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

Text

Just some general angst

I mean, it’s kind of ‘fluffy’ angst because it has a happy ending and it isn’t CRESTWOOD, but still angst.

Enjoy a concept of Fane’s vallaslin removal. (I’m writing a follow up with smut, so shhhh!) I told you there would be tears, @oxygenforthewicked! I supplied them, even if I was somewhat tearing up the whole time writing this!

***

“Sit down, vhenan.”, Solas directed Fane gently, holding his face between his hands with a tenderness he had long thought was wasted on him. “Let me free you from these shackles you should never have known.” Two thumbs ghosted along the high points of his cheekbones before they flicked up to trace his vallaslin - his shackles.

Fane let his eyes flutter shut at the feather light touch, reveling in the feeling of safety and warmth it gave him. He became literal putty in this man’s hands - melting, molding, and melding until their souls felt as if they were intertwined like a beautifully tied knot. To anyone else, that may seem like slavery, like the very inked bonds upon his face, but it wasn’t. Not by a long shot. This was a promise, a devotion that ran so deep he no longer knew where one end began and another ended.

This was a vow plated in gold so, so long ago. A vow that had been shattered, forgotten, and then reforged anew with emerald fire and blue water. It would never be sundered again. Never.

Fane took a deep breath, opening his eyes slowly to see a pair of stormy blue gazing at him patiently, lovingly. The gorgeous array of blue, grey, indigo, and hints of lavender were waiting for him, but not rushing him. They housed eternity, and a sky he had turned his back on for too long. They would never end, never go completely grey. Not as long as he breathed. Not as long as he endured.

Fane paused in his thoughts as he stared ever deeper into Solas’s eyes, watching as quiet indigo sparked within steely blue. That spark made a similar spark within his chest ignite, slamming his prior, old thoughts into the ground. No, he didn’t just endure this world, or the ignorant people within it. He didn’t just observe how that ignorance did not paint everything without feeling this same spark in his soul, or fostered guilt when otherwise there had been none. He knew more now, he knew better now.

He lived, and everything they had been through; the tears, the triumphant victories, the soul crushing anguish, the seemingly uncrossable rifts, and the madness of a world so desperately crying for help, proved he was alive and had a place in it.

A place, but a place without being bound and shackled with chains that had always threateningly rattled in the back of his mind even when he had not known the truth.

“I’m ready.”, Fane said after a few moments, leaning forward to rest their foreheads together. Their eyes connected without hesitation, without reservation, and he couldn’t help a tiny smile from forming despite his inner trepidation. “Take the vallaslin away. Free me from this nightmare I unknowingly walked into due to forgetfulness and my own ignorance.”, he pleaded with a desperation he hadn’t known was still lying dormant within him.

Solas’s eyes softened further at his words, the grey within swirling with age old sorrow and guilt before they shut themselves slowly. He momentarily mourned the loss of those eternity bearing eyes. He had never realized just how much he had missed them until he had realized who they belonged to once again.

They sat in silence amid the moonlit grass and the starry bathed canopy of trees that shielded them from the world outside of this forested refuge they had found after their flight from Skyhold, from the Inquisition. Fane’s eyes idly roamed the expanse as he waited for Solas, offering the elf resting against him the same amount of time that he had offered him. He watched the quiet bobbing of fireflies as they wove up and under each other in a seemingly ritualistic dance of their own. Their gently ebbing glow lightly bringing a golden sheen to the pale green grass every time they hovered along it.

I wonder, will my eyes look the same when the ink is taken away? Fane found himself thinking as he watched the grass take on a more verdant hue. Once upon a time, the thought of seeing his eyes in their full glory terrified him, disgusted him to the point where he’d shatter glass without fear of slicing into his fist. But now, he yearned, painfully yearned, to see them ebb and flow like the fireflies did with so much whimsical abandon.

Fane let his gaze travel away from the dancing dopplegangers of his eyes to look upwards. The moon was out in its full glory this starry eve, bathing the world in white ivory and pale yellow. It was such a beautiful contrast to the twinkling, but dark sky that was its home. He felt his eyes go hooded as another thought flickered into his mind without a preamble.

So white. Like new fallen snow. Will my face be as glowing as ivory? Will I be unscarred, and untouched as if I had just awoken once again? As if I still had my scales? Will I be able to see every freckle and birthmark that I couldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t before?

These questions permeated his mind like the scent of steaming water - invigorating and freeing. How far he had come. To being repulsed with his own reflection, thinking it looked so much like a monster’s he now knew he had no connection to, to desiring to see it and to never look away.

To never look away. The thought made him smile a bit more as he watched a shooting star soar across the blue-black backdrop of the night sky. Yes, he would never look away again. Not for fear or indifference. He would keep his gaze skyward as the world reflected him in two forms.

One form would be as itself - ever reaching and boundless. And the other form..

..would be his sky - flesh and bone with a spirit so bright that he couldn’t look away even if he tried.

Fane slowly drew his gaze away from the sky above, giving it a silent nod in acknowledgment before looking at his very own expanse of eternity, who had reopened their eyes to watch him with a tender smile and a wealth of adoration. He had to clear his throat a bit as embarrassment at being watched so closely had his ears heating up a bit. Okay, maybe he would look away sometimes, but not often.

“Something interesting?”, Fane grumbled with a tiny frown, shifting his gaze back and forth between Solas and the ground below. Damn, he was getting flustered so easily now that it was just the two of them. It was refreshing to be able to indulge without constant stares, but he was still getting used to vulnerability.

Solas let out a quiet chuckle before shifting closer to him. Fane felt himself stiffen a bit as their knees brushed together, his scars jumping in protest before he forced them to relax. No, now wasn’t the time for his body to ruin things. He had accepted the pain of his body, and he would live with it.

Live. Such a freeing word. Yes, he would live. Live, live, and live. The word made him feel light like he could fly once again.

“I am merely curious as to your conversation with the sky.”, Solas said after a few moments, voice light and soft instead of guarded and measured. It would see he wasn’t the only one to have changed with their disbandment. It was...nice, even if Fane knew they both held guilt and dread of years to come in their hearts.

Fane let out a quiet scoff, turning his gaze back to give Solas a withering glare. “I wasn’t talking to the sky.”, he said. Okay, maybe he was a little bit, but the elf didn’t need to know that.

“Mm-hm. The illumination of gold told me otherwise.”

“Do you ever stop talking? Like seriously?”

“I believe you said you enjoyed our discussions.”, the Elvhen mage quipped back with amusement, eyes surprisingly bright for once.

Fane let out a tiny growl. “Only when you aren’t being full of yourself.”

“I thought I was only asking a question. You like curiosity, correct?”

“I swear to anything that’s fucking holy, Solas...”, he warned, leveling the man with a dangerous glare that he knew wouldn’t make the other shrivel up, but he did it anyway. Force of habit.

Solas only raised an eyebrow at him, one side of his face bathed in moonlight to where many of his already sharp features appeared sharper, while the other was shrouded in gentle shadows, making those same sharp features soften as if melding with the darkness. There was a tiny knowing smirk upon his lips, stormy eyes twinkling like the stars above with mirth and tenderness, but still a form of apprehension towards what they were about to do.

Fane’s embarrassment and grumpiness trickled away at that hint of hesitation in deep blue. He let out a quiet sigh, calming himself of his agitation before reaching down to take a hold of Solas’s hands, which had been resting on his lap as if awaiting his command and consent. Immediately, the mage’s fingers entwined with his own, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze. He let out a tiny laugh before shaking his head at that. He should have known. Leave it to this fool to worry. All the taunting and all the teasing was just Solas’s way of trying to filter that emotion out. He was starting to think that’s all his sky could manage some days.

“I’ll be fine, Solas.”, Fane said, gently tugging on their joined hands to coax Solas closer. He would be lying if he didn’t feel a smidge of anxiety towards the removal, but that was only because of the fact that he may potentially get sick. Sensitivities didn’t just go away within a year when they had been festering for ten, but it was no matter. He wanted this, and he would have it.

Solas let out a quiet sigh of his own, easily coming closer to press their foreheads together again. “I know, but the last time such magic had been so close to your mind, you--”, he trailed off, softened features hardening with painful memories.

Fane shook his head firmly, even though they were connected. “Stop. I’ll be fine.”, he reaffirmed before unraveling one of their hands to place it upon the back of Solas’s neck. “I can endure any amount of discomfort.”

“That you can. However, that does not mean I like that you must, ma’isenatha.”, Solas told him, reaching up with his own freed hand to cup his cheek reverently. “I would prefer you knew no pain.”

He rolled his eyes a bit at that before sighing gently. “You know that’s a hazy dream, Solas. Pain is a part of life. It’s embedded in the path we tread, and the one before.”, he stated before leaning in closer, brushing their lips together to whisper against them. “But so is love, and I’ll endure anything, anything, if it means that that’s what’s waiting for us in the end.”

Solas chuckled, lips curling into a smile against his own. “Such optimism. Are you sure I am the one dreaming?”, he teased.

“Maybe.”, Fane said with a light shrug before giving the lips against his a light peck. “But dreams are nice, aren’t they?”

“They are, indeed.”

“Then let’s make one seemingly unreachable dream a reality. Let’s make the world a little less grey. Let me be free.”, he offered before continuing with more determination. “So, please, free me, Fen’harel. Let me be your dragon again. Not the..”, he trailed off, motioning to his own face. “...Not the ones who enslaved me in the first place.”, he finished, huffing a breath out through his nose as an ember of anger tried to break through. He wasn’t going to get angry during this. Not this time. He wouldn’t let his creeping insanity spoil this one happy moment.

He pulled away slowly with those words, watching as Solas’s pupils widened and then narrowed from the change in light. He had to smile a bit at that. Eyes were windows indeed, and how he loved the ones shining back at him with equal emotions of wonder, adoration, and tempered grief.

He loved the sky, and all it offered.

Solas watched him closely, steely eyes boring holes into him before a tender, but slightly sorrowful smile graced his lips. Fane felt his own widen a bit more at that, the muscles straining slightly, but he willed them to obey. It was time, he knew.

It was time for him to be freed from the leash that ensnared him.

“You will tell me if anything is beyond bearing, understand?”, Solas said with a stern expression, his softness and unguarded smile gone to harbor seriousness. “I know this is something you desire fiercely, vhenan, but I will not put you in jeopardy if I see agony in your eyes.”

Fane felt his own face fall and harden with seriousness as he nodded once. “I understand.”, he said, even as minor irritation made him want to growl. He knew Solas was just being caring, but he wanted this more than anything right now. He wanted to see himself without a mask hiding him.

“Very well.”, Solas said before reaching up gingerly to delicately cup his face, his hands cool despite the warmth of blood rushing through them. “Take a deep breath, but do not hold it.”, he instructed.

Fane let out a tiny snort. “I know how to breathe, you ass.”

He watched with a tiny spark of mirth as Solas gave him an exasperated glare. That only made him give the other a tiny shrug before a tiny smirk broke his serious mask.

“That’s what you get for being full of yourself.”, Fane said with the same smirk, trying to ease the tension that had settled in the air around them. As much as he knew this was a serious situation, it didn’t have to be. This was a moment, and he wanted it to be light.

My, how he’s changed, hm? Who would have seen this day? Not him.

“You are insufferable.”, Solas said flatly before shifting closer, face relaxing a tiny bit.

“You love it. Don’t lie because I can see it.”

A deep chuckle had a shiver running down Fane’s back as Solas came closer, holding his face all the while. Ohh, he had forgotten the other could make that sound. A sound that reminded him of his kin. That was a dangerous sound.

“And I can see you love me being an ‘ass’.”, the mage shot back, the area around them beginning to glow a calming blue. “Or is it more you love my ass? I seem to recall you stating something along those lines.”

Fane grimaced slightly despite their banter, the smell of mild ozone making his mouth water with the want to expel, but he swallowed around it. “Ngh.. Shut it.. mgh..”, he said between quiet grunts.

“Breathe, Fane. Listen to me.”, Solas gently instructed, dropping their back and forth immediately upon signs of his discomfort. “Focus on my eyes, block out all your other senses. Use your abilities, if you must, and tell me what you see.”

Fane swallowed around some rising bile, his body beginning to tremble slightly and sweat lightly as more magic was gently brushed along his face like a thin sheet. Focus on...Solas’s eyes? He wanted him to...observe him right now? Why? As a distraction maybe? Well, if it would get him through this then he’d give it go.

“I...ngh..!”, he grunted out harshly before he could even try to do what was instructed of him, feeling how the ink upon his face pulled like a bandage was slowly being peeled away. “D..Damn..”, he cursed, reaching out blindly, as his vision was blurring with pained tears, to wrap his arms around Solas’s waist.

Ugh, how this hurt! Solas had stated it wasn’t supposed to be painful, but maybe this was just his body’s doing. It was so sensitive to magic that it spurned even the most gentle spells? How typical!

“Shh, ma’isenatha. You are doing fine.”, Solas murmured to him soothingly, easily coming closer when he pulled with insistence. “Tell me to stop and I shall.”, he offered a way out, even as methodical hands continued to work their magical cleanse.

Fane shook his head lightly, merely tightening his hold around the mage’s waist with a gasping breath. “I..It’s fine. I..I’m fine..”, he managed to get out before blinking away the tears threatening to spill from his eyes to meet Solas’s worried, but proud ones. That nearly had Fane wanting to cry openly. Such pride. For him. He couldn’t take it, but he wanted to!

“Are you--?”, Solas began to ask, but Fane cut him off with a deep growl.

“I want this. N..No matter the agony.”, he snarled out as another wave of nauseous had him nearly ripping his head away to puke onto the pure, moonlit ground. Yes, he wanted this! He wanted this! For the first time in his life, he would proudly soak in all this pain if it meant he could be free to live!

Through his own tears and slightly blackening vision, Fane swore, for just a moment, he could see a line of dampness reflected back at him from the sky watching him. He swore he saw rain clouds beginning to roll in hues of purple-grey and deep blue. He swore he could feel droplets kiss his cheeks as the sky closed him to meet him.

He swore Solas was crying.

At that, gold tinted his vision, obscuring it more with its gentle brightness before it ebbed away to signify his eyes had swapped colors from emerald to gold. He watched as Solas’s whole visage nearly crumbled with more pride and more grief built love, the hands upon his face trembling for a moment to where magic washed through his it with renewed vigor. Fane bit down on his cheek, willing his eyes to stay open despite how they wished to close from the sudden surge of hot pain that bit into it. There was no turning back, no matter what Solas saw!

With a shaky, tense movement, Fane reached up to cup Solas’s face with his hands, brushing away a few errant tears that had miraculously escaped from the stormy clouds harboring them. A sensation of warmth and relief washed through his sweating body as his earlier observation was confirmed.

“You’re crying..”, Fane murmured, stroking the mage’s damp cheeks with clumsy movements. “You’re crying with so much love within blue. Adoration with indigo. Devotion within grey. Pride within lavender.”, he rattled off each emotion as his draconic nature burst forward, wishing to soak in and freely observe every last morsel given to him. “And they..ngh..all swirl together..to make eternity.”

Solas’s expression only twisted with a sorrowful, but yet, happy smile as the aura around them brightened another fraction. There were no words, no comments, no distracting banter. His sky was watching him, just as Fane watched it. He let out a slightly choked sound, taking a deep breath as he felt more of his skin tug and unwind. It was almost over. It had to be! Almost, almost, almost!

It was warm. It was cold. It was stinging. It was soothing. It was grey. It was blue. It was eternity. It was the end. The ritual was all of these things, all of them, and he could feel how his body tingled and shook with them rather than pain.

Come on. Come on. Come on! Fane’s mind roared like the dragon within his soul as impatience began to rear its head. They were nearly there! Nearly! The tugging was becoming less in certain places, the sting left behind no more than a memory!

Suddenly, upon those thoughts, as Fane thought he was about to pass out from how much he was gasping and sweating, it was over. No contradictory sensations. No tang of ozone tickling his nostrils. There was stillness, and silence, apart from both he and Solas’s gasping.

The blue aura dissipated, his vision clearing to allow delicate moonlight and glowing fireflies to grace it once more, and most of all, there was no more pain, no more sharpness.

There was only light and freedom soaking into his soul much like how the sweat upon his brow was.

“Ane vasreëm, ma’isenatha.”, Solas’s voice pushed through the euphoria and residual pain, eyes swimming with tears, but also genuine wonder as they flitted across his face as if never having seen it before.

Fane blinked, his mind in a haze as magic continued to slip away from his face like water on a cliffside. He was...free? He was free… He was free! He was free!

“I’m..”, Fane began to say as unrestrained jubilation coursed through his body, but soon after, a sudden rush of dizziness had the world spinning before him. “I’m..”, he tried again, but couldn’t continue as he felt the world rush to meet him and black suddenly drowned out all the eternal colors that were widened in horror and deep concern.

“Vhenan!”

The desperate voice of Solas reached him, but he was unable to respond as his body met the ground behind him. However, he knew he would be okay. He just needed to nap. Just a small one. Nothing to fret over. He’d apologize when he woke up for making his sky panic.

I’m free. I’m free. I’m free. Those words echoed with certainty and childlike joy, even if he could not see himself as black finally followed with true silence.

***

I’m not crying. Solas is crying! I make him cry because he needs to, so yeah! I’m not fucking crying! *sniffles*

#my writing #solavellan #drabble #solavellan hell #oc: fane lavellan #solas #dragon age #dragon age inquisition #this is big deal for fane you know?#it's why Im still playing around with how it'll go down #and i just like envisioning that the ritual a tad painful for him #magical sensitivity doesn't just go away #i love writing solas as a smart ass too #fane doesn't XD

12 notes · View notes

nagitoandkokichioneshots · 3 years

Text

One Angel, One Flower

It was during times like this Hana Komaeda would attack her two sleeping parents with a hug and cuddle with them all day. Only this day was a bit different for the three year old platinum blond. She peeked into her parents' room, them softly sleeping in their shared bed. Her father seemed to be naked under the sheets, for his shoulders were exposed. He snored lightly, nuzzling his head with the nape of his wife's neck. Hana could see his marshmallow locks tickling (Y/N) from behind, making the (H/C) female giggled slightly

"My hope.....my angel....I love you..." Nagito mumbled, pressing her closer to his skinny frame. Hana chuckled to herself, careful not to wake them up. Papa always said the strangest things when he sleeps, Hana thought to herself. She smiled lightly, letting her toddler mind ponder about her and her Papa

"It is I! Hana K-Komaeda! The flower of hope that will bring down any d-despair that comes my way!" The pale skinned toddler chanted, holding up a plastic pirate sword in her hand. Her usual platinum braid was disheveled from the back, there were black washable marker stains under her eyes, and her pink bedsheets were tied as a cape around her neck. After playing the floor is lava, playfully stabbing her 'despair' filled stuffed animals, and retrieving the 'jewel of hope' (a gold necklace that her father gave her mother), Hana decided that her next task as the flower of hope should be the most difficult--the grand finale!

But what?

Her (E/C) eyes fell to Nagito's home office's open door. Behind his desk chair was a shelf with box and unused wrapping paper on top. Hana smirked, knowing what her last mission should be--Finding where her birthday present was hidden and unboxing it!

The toddler made her way inside her father's office, placing her toy sword under his desk. After a few failed attempts, she finally managed to climb on top of Nagito's desk chair, balancing herself on the seat. She gritted her teeth, stopping for a split second to let the rolling chair adjust to the weight added

Stupid wheels! The little girl mentally sulked before continuing with her mission. She steadied herself further before taking a deep breath and making her way to the backrest of the chair. Hana planted her feet as firmly as she could when she reached the top of the backrest, still a bit too short to reach the top shelf. She huffed, needing to get on her tippy toes. As she lifted herself up, her fingers brushed against the box before....

"H-Huh?! ACK!!!"

The little flower of hope yelped as the chair made a sharp movement away from the shelf, making her fall to the floor. She felt a throbbing pain in the back of the head, rubbing it gently. She winced and felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She tried to wipe the hot stream of tears, only to find more coming out. She felt herself about to break down until footsteps passed the office

"H-Huh? Hana?!" A familiar white haired man ran into the office, kneeling down in front of her. Nagito placed one hand on her shoulder and the other digging through his jacket pocket. He produced a black handkerchief in his hand, gently wiping Hana's tears

"What happened, my flower of hope?" He asked her in a gentle tone, the hand that was on her shoulder, making its way to her back, softly rubbing small circles against it

"I-I tried to se-see what was on the shelf, b-but I fell and my h-head hurts...--" The platinum haired girl sniffed, trying to explain what happened through tears. But she felt her emotions taking over, as she burst into heavy sobs, wrapping her tiny arms around Nagito, crying in his chest. He frowned, feeling his heart break. His little flower of hope was in tears and hurt. Nagito almost felt like crying himself, but he knew that he would have to treat her injury first and fill her with the hope she usually displays for her parents

"Shhhh, shush now. I know just what to do," He whispered in her ear, not stopping the back rubs on her back. He picked her up, carrying her in an upsie, as he made his way towards the kitchen. He placed Hana onto the couch as if she was the most fragile piece of glass. He opened the freezer door of the fridge and pulled out a bag of frozen peas

"Peas?" Hana asked her father, as he came back, sitting next to her. He nodded, placing her on his lap

"Yes, flower. Peas may taste icky to you, but they can help a boo-boo go away," He gently smiled, moving his daughter's messy braid from behind, sweeping it over her shoulder. The frozen peas were smoothly placed behind her head, making her tense from the sudden cold, but ease after a few moments of adjusting

"You feel a bit more hopeful? I think that hopeless little bruise is no match for the flower of hope!" Nagito chuckled softly, booping her nose. This made Hana let out a small giggle, making her father keep his smile on. He was able to fill his daughter with the hope that was lost from her. He was useful and felt like he was aiding in keeping his little hope alive. The pale skinned man took this happy moment to tell his daughter something serious. He moved a few baby hairs from her face, tenderly kissing her head before facing her again

"Darling?" He asked her, getting her attention

"Yes, Papa?"

Nagito's face became serious, his hands adjusting the bag against his daughter's head

"Never scare Papa like that again. Promise?" He asked her, making Hana blush in embarrassment, but nod

"I promise, Papa. Pinkie promise!" She cheered, holding her small hand out, sticking her pinkie out. This made Nagito flash a bright smile again, interlocking his pinkie with hers

"Wonderful!" He pulled Hana into an upsie again, making her wrap her legs around his waist. His green orbs locked with her (E/C) ones, his grip on the frozen pea bag never leaving

"How about we take a walk in the park for a little while, yeah? And maybe we can get a chocolate chip bagel or two from the coffee shop right across~" He smirked, already grabbing his keys. His daughter gasped at the word 'bagel' and nodded rapidly

"Yes, Papa! Yes!" She agreed, making him let out one last chuckle, opening the door for the both of them

Hana snapped out of her fond memory as her father grunted, rubbing his eyes. Signaling that he was awake, he pressed a kiss on her wife's temple before slowly getting out their bed. He slipped on black jeans before turning his bed, flinching a bit from not noticing his daughter earlier. That shocked expression turned into a gentle smile, as he made his way towards her, still gentle enough not to wake up (Y/N). He closed the door, making him and Hana make their way outside the room

"You scared me there for a second, my hope flower. Did you sleep well?" He asked her, kneeling down to her. He gently tickled her chest with his slender fingers, making her squeal cutely

"I slept just fine, Papa. I wanted to wake you and Mama up, but you looked like you were s-sleeping very s-soundly," She said, making Nagito blush from...last night's events with his wife. His smile remained on his face, letting out a slight chuckle

"Y-Yeah, we had a long night yesterday. Work and...adult stuff," His blush gradually faded, as he stood up, taking Hana's small hand in his larger one

"Do you want to help Papa surprise Mama with breakfast?" He asked her, making the little girl nod

"Of course, Papa! Can we make her bagels?" She asked cutely, making a soft laugh leave Nagito's mouth. Yeah, Hana also inherited his love for bagels, as well as his love for hope

"Maybe for another day, darling. I want to make this special for Mama. How about...waffles?" He asked three year old, opening the waffle iron. She gasped, giving him a toothy grin

"Yes please!" she ran to hug his leg, making Nagito's heart skip a beat, wondering how he got so lucky with his little flower of hope

First his angel of hope...and now his flower

#nagito x you #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #nagito headcanons #nagito komeada kin #nagito oneshot #nagito drabble #nagito danganronpa #danganronpa x reader #danganronpa goodbye despair #nagito family

37 notes · View notes