#i'm trying to eat more healthy this month but then you get hit with cafe con pan and :/

[elizabeth-mitchells]

i wonder why i was feling like shit today i mean it's not like i had just four cups of coffee and not water at all in all day but- oh wait

[kozutenshi]

FLOWERS & PEARLS—KEIJI AKAASHI

keiji akaashi x f!reader

collab: spring formal with hqhangout!

what: 1.3k of fluffy mutual pining in two different lives with a hint of hanahaki and angst.

Spring was around the corner, but the war hadn't ended unlike the cold days of winter.

The man with gunmetal green eyes held his lover close to his chest, giving them a shell, somehow like a telephone, with a pearl attached to its point.

His lover remembers the parting smile he gave before he went on to war with tough spirits, carrying the other of the pair of shells.

From afar, through the distances, he called and talked until his voice disappeared, swallowed by the pearl that had grown bigger overtime.

Three, four years later, his voice had disappeared and it was spring again. Believing that he will come back to his lover waiting for him, he visited the cherry blossom trees near his home everyday until the cherry blossoms grew in his body, with the sight of his beloved in another's arms, her voice restored.

Swallowing the pearl by himself to reclaim his voice, he cried and grieved about his lost love until he coughed up flowers, familiar white and pink petals covered in blood, and felt his heart stop.

Akaashi closed the book in his hands. He didn't know the reason why he even opened the book in the first place. The cover was a bit torn, the pages sure to become brittle soon and the golden letters that spelled "The Tale of Hanahaki" were barely visible.

But he felt drawn to it, as if the book was beckoning him to pick it up.

He sighed, wondering if it was real since science had not found an answer to Hanahaki's source yet. Even he knew that in every story, there is an inkling of truth.

He had watched people lose their voice, the first symptom, and recover shortly after they "confessed" to the people they liked and learn that they reciprocate those feelings. He watched some advance to the next stage of the disease with bloody petals in their hands.

Rationally, he couldn't believe it, but it was real, and the only cause they knew for the Hanahaki disease was unrequited love.

He had read books under the genre of romance, had seen movies, and even witnessed it in real life as he crossed paths with different people on the street insignificantly and held the significant ones close.

Is love real, or is it just a construct?

Finished, he made his way out of the library, on his way to his work to bump into you.

He recognized you as one of the workers in a cafe he frequently went to. Apologizing, the both of you walked towards the train station, you on your way to work while he's on his way to grab a cup before work. The cherry blossoms weren't growing yet, but the wind told him that spring was in a few weeks.

He didn't know that learning your name, and the small encounters whenever he goes to the cafe was a big deal until the reality hit him when he found him staring at you more, getting flustered, and feeling more than what friends feel. He wondered, in this early spring day, with the almost melted snow and budding blooms, do you feel this way too?

Was this what love truly is?

His feelings for you were no secret to his friends, nor was it to your coworkers. Maybe, you were just as dense as a brick to not notice them, or you were too focused trying to stop your own feelings from growing every time you meet his gunmetal eyes, when a smile creeps up his lips, and his protective stance whenever you two rode the train.

You didn't notice, until he came with you to the cafe, failing miserably in hiding his sickly pale complexion, and with trembling hands.

At first you couldn't convince yourself that his situation was real. After all, he seemed healthy the previous days. Yet, reflecting, you remember how he excused himself a lot whenever you're around, how he comes back with a smile that was trying to coax you to believe that he was okay, that his disease didn't exist.

And the same goes to him.

Years, months, days; he tried so hard not to fall in the same situation. Yet, here he was, trying to catch your attention with an order of a cup of coffee and playful, short banters. Here he was, falling down the rabbit hole of unrequited love like all those victims of the disease.

Why, of all the better timings, did it choose to come now?

"Let's go find a good spot and reserve it."

His voice was hushed trying to shield the fact that his voice was disappearing. You know it, with the way he shoots a short reassuring smile when he coughs, or when you just simply look at his direction.

Always so reassuring, ever reliable Keiji Akaashi.

Watching the cherry blossoms in full bloom was, yearly, your tradition. You used to stay only for a few minutes, visiting them alone and praying to famed gods for prosperity and happiness. Having him beside you, a picnic basket on hand, was new.

But you, oh you, could definitely get used to this.

With a nod, you followed him. The sun hasn't risen yet, but the moments before it were already fulfilling. Unpacking breakfast and eating it silently, laughing at the silliest arguments, and just being together in silence.

Akaashi smiled, bittersweetness flowing through his aura, as he re-reads the Tale of Hanahaki. Now, he feels how sad the tale was. Seeing their lover gone from their arms, growing flowers that he didn't desire to see anymore; the whole tale was just too unfortunate. He notices the similarities of the war veteran in the tale, and him, a simple human overworking himself with a cup of coffee on his table.

Would it end the same for him: alone, returning to nature through becoming one of the cherry blossoms you'll visit every year after he passed?

The sun started to rise, yet he found himself inching closer to you. His touch was tentative as he interlaced his fingers in yours, bringing them to his lips.

The slight touch of his lips on your knuckles made you feel warm, cozy, as he took you in his arms, pulling you closer to his chest. You watched the sunrise together, oddly familiar with his warmth, his smell, and overall presence. Butterflies swarmed in you, fluttering rapidly as you felt him press a kiss on your temple. Your heart raced as he whispered his next words, a sentence that you've waited on for so long, one that you would've said if he hadn't:

"I love you, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to answer, nor do I need it. I—" you shushed him with a tight squeeze on his hand. It was warm and sweaty, trembling from weakness and nerves. The hand you held was his, and he held yours.

"I love you too."

For a second, he couldn't process what you had said. After all, it wasn't what he was expecting. Have you known about it for a while? Was this your own way to console his stupidity in falling in love?

He didn't know, but he did know the genuine happiness, and the tears of relief that bubbled up your eyes.

And suddenly his chest wasn't so heavy.

There are a few things a human can do compared to their gods. Decide fates, create universes, and show how beautiful their creations are. It was a sad fact, but on that spring day, the only thing in his mind was the flutter of his heart almost like the delicate flower petals floating, taken by the wind and your mesmerized eyes as he holds you in his arms.

And he, oh he, could definitely get used to this.

footer: there's something so romantic abt the tradition of flower viewing for me :") i wish i can watch cherry blossoms soon too *dreamy sigh* reblogs are appreciated!

tags; @rendezvoi join the taglist if ur interested!

[itshaejinju]

Hey Honey! I'd love a FFXV match up. Some things about myself, I'm a 5ft2 Sagittarius ENTJ - violet hair, curves, and sea-green eyes. I love reading, writing, gaming, and cross stitching. I'm an English Major with focus on literature. I love travelling, learning and experiencing culture. Bit picky with food, but ramen for days please. Friends describe me as very flirty, witty, outspoken, and passionate. If I like you, you know. If I don't like you, YOU KNOW.

Match ups are closed~.

Okay legit I was in between Gladiolus and Nyx here but I feel like you two would clash a lot, Gladiolus and his way of being outspoken and if he doesn’t like you know I think that would be some butting of the heads. It would be a good angsty/hot headed relationship that could work but I think Nyx would be the ultimate pairing.

( °-°)シ ミ★ ミ☆ I match you up with Nyx Ulric!

Nyx is attracted to your, passion to your friends, your flirty ways gets his attention quickly, your outspoken and witty manners makes him laugh and enjoy his time with you. Nyx would love to sit with you, curled up reading a good book with you. Nyx would be first to read your writings, he’s quite good at picking up errors and adding extra action to the story. Nyx is flexible at being a homebody and a world traveler so he would be quite fine exploring the lands with you, as long as he has you by his side. Nyx would definitely learn to cook better than he does already to find something you would like to supplement your ramen addictions. Nyx is rather passionate man but he is always willing to make the right comprises when it comes to debates, knowing that there are other ways to get what he wants.

Little Drabble Piece:

Nyx wasn’t sure when he fell in love with you, to be honest you were just his roommate at first then over the years it became something a bit more. Something a bit more intimate.

His pay for the Glaive was not enough to make the rent on his apartment and no matter how much he cared for Crowe or Libertus he didn’t want to live with them. So he did a listing in the papers for a roommate, he felt like he was almost filling out a dating profile with all that the things he listed. His privacy was important when he was home, his outgoing Glaive personality was shut off and he was more quite, reserved. So he wanted someone who could respect that. That is when you answered his advert, it was like the Astrals smiled upon him that day when he looked over the profile, to talk to you on the phone he was automatically pleased.

He liked all that was you, your passions, your writing, even the little cross-stitch crafts littering the apartment. The way sea green eyes sparkled when he mixed up homemade garlic sauce for you one night when you had been feeling a bit ill, spreading it on some fresh bread he bought from the market, it made him smile and feel proud of himself.

Nyx felt proud often but the sense of pride you brought to him was a bit different than what the pride work brought to his being

Slowly over time the sense of pride you brought to him started to irk him because he couldn’t pin out how it was different from work. He was always the Hero of the people but for some reason you made him feel like he was just your hero and no one else. Like he was the most important person in the world and he couldn’t quite figure out why that felt so good why that was so much different.

Nyx enjoyed his time with you, granted you were not home a whole lot with the traveling you did but when you were it was fantastic. You always texted him when you would be arriving back home at first Nyx would just be at home to greet you but it became he would pick you up at the airport so he could spend more time with you, just even those few extra minutes from the airport to home was important to him. He enjoyed how reading together started in the same room you curled up on the arm chair and he sprawled out on the couch reading occasionally commenting on something. Then it became both on the couch, leaning up against each other teasing each other for their choice in story or reading out loud a particularly interesting passage. When he had found out that you wrote that perked his interest greatly, noticing that one day instead of curling up reading you were playing with your phone. Nyx could have sworn you were chatting up some guy which sparked jealousy in him in which he couldn’t figure out why you chatting with a guy hell it could have been a girl bothered him. But when he never heard any chiming sound or a dull vibrate sound of a reply there was something up, peering over your shoulder he noticed a wall of text on the smart phone’s screen.

That’s when he started to proofread for you, you had just humored him at first but it turned out that his offerings to better the plots the dialogue was legitimately good you took it a bit more serious. Nyx would read your drafts over breakfast before work, editing notes in bold to give you for suggestions then head off.

That is also when he started to realize that he actually loved you. It started on how much he fell in love with your writing style, your passion and care to detail. Then he realized other things that he had always liked about you that he had actually liked more than that. That he loved you greatly.

“Nyx I’ll be gone for a bit longer than normal on this trip, there are a few extra things I want to do so I’ll email you whatever I write during that time. Is that okay?”

Nyx tried to hide the sadness that hit him, his job didn’t allow him to travel much and not as freely he needed many months in advance to travel. So he was envious and really wanted to travel with you, to see he morning sun light bounce off your wavy violet hair, the way sat in a cafe and wrote sipping tea. The way your green eyes sparkled while discovering something new. But he had to work…he was going to miss you, he had also wanted to tell you how he felt. Nyx had planned on doing it this morning forgetting that you were going to Gauldin Quay for a while right over this breakfast the two of you were sharing. The one he had cooked up for the two of you…he felt like it would be in bad taste if he said it right now specially since this trip seemed more important than the others. He wouldn’t want you to be thinking such things when you were out traveling.

So he waited.

He waited for you to return.

Three weeks was a long time when you are a love struck puppy.

The excerpts of your writing that you sent him in emails was his lifeline, you were busy so he didn’t text you much. But he thought about you constantly. How well did you sleep? Did you eat healthy today? Did you read anything good? Nyx really wasn’t sure how you became someone he loved and no longer a just a roommate.

The day when you texted him saying you were arriving home earlier than planned by a few hours Nyx was in the middle of preparing a lavish dinner for you. Things in the oven he couldn’t leave to pick you up like normal he didn’t trust the taxis to pick you up, the one he loved! Calling up Crowe he asked her to pick you up which after some convincing to have her leave her pjs on her day off Crowe did.

Upon your arrival Nyx of course was not ready for food, halfway and he was trying to quicken up the process but he was failing. Not wanting to burn the food he decided knowing you were rational and would understand would be fine with it. When you walked into the room, with Crowe carrying the luggage with her as she wanted to come now to collect her fees. Nyx really wanted to pin you against the wall capturing your full lips in a passionate breath taking kiss. But Crowe was staring at him, hand out waiting her Gil…

And he hadn’t confessed yet, that would be a bit rude of him to do that to you so he restrained himself. It was quite hard.

As you had mentioned a shower and would be back shortly Nyx was back to finishing food. Pep talking himself the whole time, he’s the Hero, he’s a well known Glaive he was a accomplish man this would be easy right? Simple and a piece of cake!

In front of the stove stirring the pot Nyx talked to himself aloud, “It’s just a simple, string of words put together a few vibrations of the vocal cords in the right patterns. Easy and simple, Y/N I love you.”

Little did Nyx know that you had walked out of the bathroom down the hallway to the kitchen, pulling back your freshly combed hair into a loose bun, hearing all that he had just said.

“You what?” You asked incredulously, eyes wide with shock.

“Shit.” Nyx said stunned as he turned around to spot you in the middle of the kitchen staring at him.

“Nyx what was it that you said?” You questioned again, wanting to see his facial expressions when he said it.

“Well cat is out of the bag, I love you Y/N so very much.” Nyx said full of passion, his eyes locked on your reading your expression desperate to know what you thought of him.

To hope you liked him more than just a roommate.