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berriebun · 1 year ago

Text

I know, and I don’t really care

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia Character(s): Keigo Takami | Hawks Other tag(s): Angst? Idk for sure Word count: 1,378

A/N: Well this was my first time ever writing Hawks... Wanted to give it a shot and found a prompt that sparked some inspiration here: “You were my greatest failure. I hope you know that."

Sitting perched on the corner of a building in the early morning sunrise, Keigo stared uninterested at the message he had just received. Apparently, his old man was dying and had requested the chance to talk to him one last time and the HPSC was oh so graciously allowing him to step away from his duties for a whole fifteen minutes to do so. Oooh, wasn't he special. He figured it wouldn't be a good visit regardless, he held no hope that his father was going to apologize for how he treated him or the life he put him through. But hey, fifteen minutes was fifteen minutes. Might as well entertain his dying father, if only to have a minuscule break. Besides, it might be nice to see the old man bothered by how unbothered he was about his opinions. He taps out a confirmation to taking the time to visit his dear old dad to say goodbye, using as few words as possible to 'thank' his handler for the chance. He then sweeps through to a different text channel and instructs one of his sidekicks to watch over his patrol area for the short time he had to step away.

He finds himself taking to the air, heading towards the jail where his father was being held. Of course, he wouldn't be released or provide comfort in his last hours but Keigo couldn't find it in himself to care. He didn't have the energy to waste on someone who didn't matter in his life anymore. He was sure it was off-putting for him to show up with a carefree smile on his face and cheerfully inform them of his reasons for visiting. Sure the jail knew that he was coming, but he didn't know what they were expecting, but a happy camper wasn't one of them. It amused him which made it worth it at the very least. He was all charming smiles and light-hearted comments as he was led back to a private visitor's room until they reached the doors. As he entered the room, his expression changed dramatically; expertly closing himself off and leaving only a slight, smug smile on his face as he sauntered over to the table to sit across from his father. He definitely looked worse for wear, with pale ashy skin, and sagging features evident of someone who was deathly ill and at the end of their rope. He looked exhausted and just as cranky as he had been in Keigo’s childhood. Ever a scowl on his face and judgmental eyes.

“Hey, pops. I was told you wanted to talk, eh?” He takes the initiative, not wanting to waste any more time than he needed, and wanting to just get to the meat of the visit. Let his father say his nasty words and move on from this. He was greeted with a cold stare and those annoyed pursed lips, apparently showing his father’s reluctance to talk at the moment.

“Well, I’m here despite everything, so aren’t you lucky? Really just wanted to see how you were fairing, you were my father after all. As awful of a one you were anyway. Still, I figured I owed you a chance to see my face one last time before you passed. So what is so important that you had to wait till your deathbed to share with me? Surely it wasn’t just to have the chance to glare holes through me for fifteen minutes. That’d be kinda disappointing, to say the least.”

They stare at each other for what feels like years until his dad finally coughs and clears his throat- a disgusting wet noise that makes Keigo cringe inward despite his carefully masked ease.

"You were my greatest failure. I hope you know that." His father finally rasped out, disdain and malice oozing with every word. Keigo supposed he meant to be hurt by those words, but all he could do was grin freely.

“Oh yeah, I’m well aware. Was that all?” He asks jovially, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. His father seemed confused, and Keigo knew that wasn’t the reaction he was expecting, which just made it worth the visit. He was pleased to show this man that he didn’t have any effect on him anymore.

“It’s touching that even in your last moments, you’re still thinking of me, Dad. I’m sure it burns ya up, huh? Did you hear the news? Just last week, I was made the number two hero, ain't that just peachy?” Keigo hummed, leaning against the table and resting his chin in his hand in doing so. That seemed to rile up his father’s spirit, making the man scowl and sneer at him.

“Of course, you went off an became one of those filthy attention-seekin’ government dogs.” He spits, coughing as he expresses more emotion than he had just seconds ago.

“Yep. Someones gotta catch the yuck of society like you, after all. Otherwise, the streets would be uninhabitable.” It seemed that with every word that came out of his mouth, his father was more and more irritated. It was cathartic, seeing the old man getting so upset over how unbothered Keigo seemed to be with his attempts to cut him down.

’How self-centered did he have to be to think that the child he abused for years before his arrest would still be sparing him any thought? Did he really expect me to be hung up over what he had to say?’ He snorts mentally at the idea. He didn’t have time to dwell on his past that much, with how much work he was doing, his thoughts were always firmly stuck in the present and future- Had to stay one step ahead of the game after all, there were a lot of people in the world who needed saving and he felt like he was the only one really capable of doing it well enough. As much as he didn’t care for his rankings, it was an honor bestowed upon him because of the public. He made them feel safe and protected, even though there was still so much going on in the world and behind the scenes of normal society. If they knew the kind of crap he had to take care of or deal with, the world would be sent spiraling through chaos. He wishes things were as peaceful and kind as it was made to look. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to bend over backwards all the time doing what he felt was needed, and what he was made to do by the HPSC.

When it seemed like his father wasn’t going to say anything more, shaking up with so much anger and resentment to even form words, Keigo stood up and casually stretched.

“If that was all you wanted to say, then I guess we’re done here, huh?” He glances at the clock. “And not even a minute to spare. I’d say it’s been great seeing you again, pops, but we both know that’s a lie.” He doesn’t really know how to say goodbye to this man, so he just gives him a lazy salute and turns to leave. He doesn’t hear his father say anything or try to do anything in reaction, outside of falling into a coughing fit which saw a nurse rushing into the room after he left. Keigo assumed he should feel something over all this, but nothing was really coming up. He didn’t feel relief or joy, nor sad or depressed. Was he numb? He couldn’t tell. What was he really feeling? Was he trying to trick himself or was this it? It was times like these that Keigo lamented his habit of fabricating certain emotions to fit the situations he found himself in, constantly questioning if he really felt one way or another, or if it was just an elaborate ruse that even he was falling for now. Who knows really… Such was the life of a double agent hero. He went from one tiny cage to a larger, nicer cage, but still a cage nonetheless… He did find the irony in the fact that he just wants to be free like his father did all those years ago.

#hawks #keigo takami #angst #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #penned

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luxxuryycar · 10 months ago

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As promised, here it is!! I hope you like it, anon!

Arthur has had years of experience with business negotiations, and as the de facto leader of the chocolate cartel, is well-versed in the tactics that his business partners often employ during said negotiations. For the life of him, however, he cannot understand why Felix always feels the need to flirt. Shamelessly. Admittedly, it’s not always his fault; some of the men they’ve met with in the past have even started it. Arthur hadn’t thought he’d mind so much, given that it’s been a consistent tactic of Felix’s, and in fairness he is trying very, very hard not to mind. Because that’s the thing: it works. Arthur is pretty sure Felix is responsible for at least half of their successful deals, and that’s hardly trivial-which, of course, makes Arthur’s desire to break the wrist of the next man who lays a hand on Felix entirely illogical.

It’s not personal, and he gets that, of course he does. His own life is sharply divided between business and everything else (with the latter category admittedly having been sorely lacking until recently), so it would hardly be fair to ask Felix to change his entire strategy now, just because they’re…involved. And so he hasn’t asked, which is why he now has to sit at the vault’s bar and watch some stranger touch Felix’s hand and laugh at all his jokes and look way too fucking charmed by it all. Arthur is very glad he had had the foresight to pour himself a glass of whiskey rather than a martini, as the whiskey glass is much sturdier and therefore able to withstand his tight, frustrated grip on it.

There are reasons, of course, to ignore it, to let the evening play out however it will (the other man will sign whatever they offer him, because Felix asks him to) and say nothing. Firstly, of course: the man will sign the deal, and they will get what they want, and Arthur can ask Felix to stay late if he chooses to and they can- Ahem. Secondly, Gerald has no idea that Arthur and Felix’s relationship is anything more than business partners, and frankly Arthur would prefer to keep it that way. Nothing against Gerald, this is just…none of his business.

The other man leans closer and takes one of Felix’s hands in his own, admiring his rings and his impeccable dark green nail polish, and Arthur feels his frustration ratchet up a notch. Why the fuck does he think he can just touch Felix? He wants to snarl, to throw his whiskey glass across the room and make this prick want to forget he’s ever met any of them, but he restrains himself, instead lifting the glass to his mouth and taking a slow sip. Felix seamlessly turns the grip on his hand into a handshake and Arthur allows his irritation to lessen. They’re nearly finished. Only a few more minutes of this and then-

But the other man doesn’t let go of Felix’s hand, not when they both stand up, Felix clearly intending for the interaction to come to a close. Instead, he says, “You know, this has been fun. I’d love to continue it somewhere more…private.”

Arthur channels all of his remaining restraint into placing his glass delicately on top of the bar rather than throwing it across the room. “No,” he says. “We’re done here, thank you.” All eyes in the room turn to him, but he keeps his expression neutral, impossible to read.

“I think Mr Fickelgruber can answer for himself,” the other man blusters, clearly put out at having had his clever plan derailed so easily. Arthur tilts his head, adjusting one sleeve of his jacket.

“Mr Fickelgruber has a boyfriend,” he replies, allowing his now-thunderous expression to imply the rest. “I repeat: we’re done here. Thank you. Gerald, if you would show him out.” Felix has by now extricated his hand from the other man’s grip, and says nothing as Arthur’s orders are followed, Gerald quickly ushering their guest out of the room.

“Boyfriend, huh?” he says once they’re alone, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

“Yes,” Arthur says, though inwardly it feels much more intimate to say it now, in front of Felix alone. “I…didn’t like that he was touching you,” he admits, more quietly. It’s still difficult for him to get used to expressing any kind of actual feeling, given how much of their prior relationship had been strictly business-related…and how much of Arthur’s life, in general, had been business-focused.

“Oh,” Felix says, crossing the distance between them. “Is that the only reason you called me your boyfriend?” he tilts his head.

“No,” Arthur answers quickly. “I want…” he trails off, unsure how to word it.

“Me to stop letting assholes think they have a chance with me so we can bribe them?” Felix guesses teasingly. “Or, no, I know, you want me to stop showing off my rings. Or…maybe you want me to be less pretty?”

Arthur laughs despite himself, reaching out to take Felix by the waist and pull him closer. “No, Felix. I just want you to be my boyfriend.”

idk if you'd want to write something where Felix get all flirty with another business man they're trying to negotiate with and Arthur tries not to get jealous (because he knows felix would never) but after they close the deal the guy tries to take things further with felix and Arthur gets all possessive....

Oh I would very much be interested in writing something like this!! Thank you for the suggestion!! If you have any other thoughts please feel free to send them :) I will either reblog this with whatever I come up with for this prompt OR will post it on ao3 if I like it enough!!

#felix fickelgruber #arthur slugworth

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daphnedauphinoise · 3 years ago

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Hey daphne loveeee your advice. Any ideas on how to incorporate the 90s super model look? I think all the girls style and beauty is so iconic.

Emulating the runway look

To understand how you can incorporate their style in your daily life, you first need to understand what aspect of the supermodels you like and what was on the runway at the time.

Which model do you resonate with style-wise?

There were soooooooooo many successful amazing models during the 90s. Enough for one each and for you pick a few and study.

When choosing a muse, go with the inital vibe. If they strike something within you then yes, don’t spend time pondering over their race, skin colour, blood type or what they ate for breakfast. The purpose of a style insipiration is just about style. A lot of the models dressed the same on and off runway so you really just have to go what strikes you. For example, I love Christy Turlington as a model, and I wholly believe that she is the most beautiful model of all time but I don’t resonate with her style wise. Unlike on the runway now, models were allowed to show their personality on the ramp and they did this through their walk. Naomi was fierce and fiery and Linda’s was more curt and cold. So watch videos of the models on the runway and see whose walk you like the best. I reccomend the youtube channel The Runway Collection.

My personal favourites are Claudia Schiffer and Yasmeen Ghauri. Claudia Schiffer is stunning and she looks a lot like Brigitte Bardot with her low eyes and pouty lips. And you see this in her walk too. She walked like she knew she was the most beautiful girl you will never see again, and for someone who didn’t want to do runway initially she had what it took. There is slight conservative charm to her walk, something relatable. Yasmeen.. well she is THE YASMEEN GHAURI. Everyone thinks Naomi had the best walk but that is only because they forgot about Yasmeen Ghauri, who decided to leave the runway out of the blue and go to university. Like Tyra Banks said, ‘Yasmeen had the walk of life’. Whilst Naomi’s was a baltant ‘I don’t give a fuck about you’ walk, Yasmeen was more ‘ I don’t need to say anything to, you already know I am the best’. She was effortlessly cool, sharp and intelligent and that showed in her walk.

Looks on the Runway: Tailored Casual

This is what the mother of the pretty preppy girl in your school wears now but in the 90s everyone was wearing this. I love the tailored look of the 90s. It makes you look more grown-up, the vision of Dolly Patrons 9-5- the original girl boss look. You don’t need to walk around with a three piece suit on but have tailored pieces in your wardrobe is essential. For this look, you will need to learn how to layer (thinnest to thickest) and how colours work next to each other. The key point to these outfits is that they are all part of a set. Eventhough Cindy Crawford and Karen Mulder are not wearing suits, their jumpers still match the colour of their trousers which makes the outfit looks more cohesive. This whole matching sets and colours were big in the nineties. There is reason why a matching set of joggers and sweater looks better than a mismatched one. Colour blocking or going for a monochromatic looks cultivated. I know we have brought back a similar business casual but I don’t think it looks as good as it did back in the 90s.

When buying tailored pieces, you really need to put the the and effort to do it properly. In an ideal world, everyone would be able to get custom tailored clothes veru afforably but until then learn about your own porpotions and read the size guide on the clothes you buy. You can totally get whatever you buy from high street store tailored and that will cost less than a custom suit.

I love bright colours but it is hard to look suave when you look like a traffic cone. I am not saying go for beige colours but go for more muted shades or shades that you don’t see as often like dove grey or duck egg blue.

Get the Look

Brands: Reiss, Zara, Mango, The Frankie Shop, Ralph Lauren, The Row

Good For: This look would work for work settings or anywhere professional.

Look #1: You can never go with a white shirt, fitted trousers and belt. A nice tan belt is an essential to have in your wardrobe and it is one of the key ways to make yourself look more polished. I would keep jewellery on the low and opt for something classic like a pair of studs.

Look#2: I love the look Naomi Campbell is wearing. I think it is a red strutcre blazer over a black dress. The best things about this outfit is the black dress, the black beret and the black tights matching but contarsting against the red oversized. I rarely see people casually wearing a true red anymore which is a shame because one of my favourite outfits in cinema is Drew Barrymore’s red esemble in Poison Ivy.

Look#3: You need a light cashmere sweater and matching trousers. And I can’t believe I am saying this but don’t get it in black.

Looks on the runway: Chanel Girl

Everyone can recognise the 90s Chanel look. Matching tweed, mini skirts, layered belts and hair accessories. Compared to the business casual look this look is more youthful, flirty and girly.The reason all of the outfits are good is because they follow simple fashion rules. The matching sets easily makes you look more put together. The crop top and the skirt works use length perception to make you look taller. My favourite bit of all this outfit is the skirt and the belt. I love the layered Chanel belts but they are pricey at £10 000 for a vintage one. You can easily just get a cheaper non-Chanel one or even make one. This is the perfect time to incorporate this style because the school girl fashion is making it’s way back into the runway.

Notice how skirt is black in most of the outfits, that is our base. Whenever I mention base, I mean this is one item that you should invest in. The top is colourful, personally I would look heinous with that lime colour so I would probably just go with black or pink. When buying a croptop, pay attention to where is ends on your body and make sure it works to make your porportons better. I know brooches have died down but I think they are fabulous pieces to have. You can easily buy something that looks very similar to the Chanel and add it to your look.

Get the look

Brands: Maje, Zara, Sandro, Chanel

Good For: I would wear these styles when I am out with the girls, shopping or musuem dates.

Look#1: Wear matching sets. They are a good investment because not only do you get a complete outfit you also get two pieces that you can use at anytime. To make them more fun, accesories with cute pair of socks, hats or sunglasses.

Look#2: Tweed can get very expensive very quickly but Zara usually does a lot of tweed. They are not the best of best and with Zara, sometimes you need to be willing to sew things in properly or fix a hem straight. A cute tweed jacket, with a crop top and trousers is our second look. I like the idea of tweed jacket and a crop top because it makes it more girly than what your grandma woul wear. Add a cute belly chain like the one Claudia Schiffer is wearing.

Look#3: Crop Top, mini skirt with a layered belt. I would suggest heeled Mary Janes or platform heels with this look so your legs can look extra long. Black mini skirt is a staple and will last you many more trends and looks than just this one so invest in a good one that makes you feel like a Chanel Girl. This look looks great with a half up, half down hairdo. Keep jewellery to a minimum but accesories your hair and your waist.

Supermodel Off Duty

I am going to tire you out by saying this but- Back To Basics. Look at how simple their outfits are, nothing is loud or revealing, everything harmoniusze. Yes, I know they look good because they are supermodels, but they look good because they stuck to the basics. All that they were wearing can be worn today by anyone and it will still look good.

90′s Supermodel’s Basics

slip dress

mom jeans

white button down

fitted trousers

big statement belt

gold hoops

suit set

knit dress

Look #1: Denim jacket and jeans with a silm fitted black top. You are on your way to rival CIndy Crawford.

Look #2: Oversized blazer, knit jumper, mini skirt, tights and boots. Toussle your hair

Look #3: Slip dress over a shirt, boots and a silver necklace. Go be grunge.

Look #4: Plain white tee, mom jeans hoops,heels

Look #5: knit dress, statement belt

On the pinterest board for this post on 90s supermodels, there are some of my favourite models who I adore for their style. I know I am missing a couple from the big 5 but I like the women I have chosen as they have have the best overall aura. This took forever to write but I hope it was what you wear looking for.

Much love,

Daphne xoxo

#you ask for daphnes answer #daphne's style file

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softquietsteadylove · 2 years ago

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omg hello i am literally obsessed with your work on ao3 and i had no idea you take TUMBLR PROMPTS??? this is the best discovery of my life i'm so THRILLED!! may i possibly request more from the spies AU? i just read it and it was SO GOOD, and i would love to see gil & thena put in more situations where they have to save and look out for each other as they do! thank you and again, thank you for your lovely writing!

"Thena, how's it going?"

"I'm working on it," she muttered, knowing her mic would pick it up. "What does it look like out there?"

"Boring without you."

She could imagine the little smile on his face as he said it, although her eye on him via security cameras did nothing to bring out his handsome features. She moved her eyes back to the main screen, searching through emails for the intel they needed. AI could only get them so far.

"I see her."

Thena watched the monitor as their target approached. The wife of a very rich, very connected, very not-law-abiding citizen who was profiting off of all the art present at the auction--real and fake alike. "That's your cue, tiger."

"Come on, you know I'm terrible at this."

"You better not be--it's your job," Thena let her smile leak into her voice as she continued her work. And she knew it wasn't true, either; Gilgamesh was much more charming than he thought he was.

Sometimes he was a little too charming.

"Let me," Gil said quietly as he retrieved a sparkling glass of champagne for the lady.

Thena listened to the small talk - the flirting - over their open channel. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes as Gil flattered the woman shamelessly. But the target drank it up, taking every shiny little compliment and batting her eyes in response.

"Are you here to buy one of the works of art?" the target asked between sips.

Gil took a pause, and Thena knew what he was doing. He was looking down at his feet, then up, raising a cool brow; "I see only one masterpiece worth anything right in front of me."

Thena did roll her eyes at that. "That was terrible."

"Mister Lee!" the target laughed, and Thena watched the visual of her give him a playful shove. It was a little more friendly than playful. And it wasn't a shove, so much as she put her hand right on his chest. And it stayed there.

"Rein it in, Gil." She didn't expect an answer, and obviously he couldn't respond to her with the target present. But she heard him chuckle. He was having a little too much fun with this.

"Although, should I be worried about the masterpiece on your finger?"

A massive diamond, sparkling band, and about as symbolically bloodstained as it got.

"Oh," the target tucked some hair back in a display of shyness. "I...my...we're together in name, I suppose. But my husband could name the inventory number of this diamond before he could remember my middle name."

"What a disservice to such a beautiful woman."

Thena keyed in her commands and watched as the data transfer began. It felt slower than it usually did. "Too much, Gil."

"And what service should a beautiful woman like me have?"

Thena's brows raised. She could respect the target for going after what she wanted. It just wasn't allowed to be Gil.

"How about..." Gil paused, and Thena watched him adjust his stance. She didn't have to be there to know that his hand - hidden by their close stance against the bar - was slipping against hers. It was to extract her room key, but still... "I meet you in ten minutes and show you?"

Thena watched intently. She tapped her finger against the desk with every step the target took towards the elevators. She had to manually switch cameras to follow her, but she felt...compelled. The target stepped on, and as soon as she had a mirror handy she fluffed up her hair and adjusted her dress. Thena switched back to the main ballroom feed.

"Meet you up there?"

Thena couldn't resist a little jab, "don't you have a hot date waiting for you up there? I wouldn't want to interrupt."

"Come on, I got the key, didn't I?" Gil laughed, sounding much more like himself as he loosened his bow tie.

"What a disservice to such a beautiful woman," Thena repeated in a thick, drawling tone.

"Yeah, okay, it was a little much. But it got the job done."

"Toying with the poor woman's heart, Gilgamesh?" Thena let out a faint laugh as the data transfer completed. She stood, "this job has changed you."

"Hey," he snorted before lowering his voice, obviously looking down at his shirt to speak directly into the mic in his collar. "You know you're the only woman for me."

Thena huffed, ignoring the heat flushing her cheeks. "Your little pick up lines won't work on me, you realise."

"I realise," he said as he headed for the elevators. "They're true when they're for you."

"Luckily the target craves flattery like her husband craves money laundering," Thena mused as she also headed to an elevator. A freight elevator, but still. "I'll try not to startle your girlfriend."

Okay, maybe she was laying it on a little thick, now.

But Gil laughed loudly, having the elevator to the lavish suite all to himself. "Hope she doesn't mind I invited my wife."

Thena rolled her eyes, and she was sure he could tell she was smiling despite her exasperation. He was entirely too charming for his own good.

#Um #the second I saw your url I recognised #I have reblogged so much stuff from you #very honoured #and I did like this AU #so I'm a little tickled that someone else did too #Thenamesh Spy AU #for the record #they're not actually married #but that line was just too good

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lily-drake · 3 years ago

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Photograph

Based on

Thank you @johannaiii for letting me write this!!!! It was so much fun and it was a really good prompt!

Talia didn’t like the process of giving birth, in fact she loathed it. She swore she would never, and she meant never do it again. But when she was giving birth, and she found out that she was having twins, and she got to hold her children that she sacrificed and suffered for, she loved them. When she learned that one of them was a girl, she knew that her father would be furious and demand her death. So she immediately summoned one of the monks from the Tibetan temple that her father was allying with and gave them the girl. She demanded that they train her and protect, and that she would never, ever be mentioned to Ra’s. She even killed the nurses who helped her give birth to make sure that there was no one left who would know. It wouldn’t be hard to find replacements for them anyways, it’s not like their lives were significant. They had served out their use, now there was no need for them. When it was time she presented her son, Damian, to her father claiming him to be the only child and heir to the Demon’s Head. Ra’s was very pleased with her and she felt pride at being able to carry out her task properly that her father was very much pleased with her and her child.

Even though Marinette, as she had named the child before she had given her up, was no longer in the league, she made sure she was still in her daughter’s life. Once every year she left for “training” purposes with Damian and went to the ancient temple in Tibet to visit her daughter and make sure that the two siblings got to spend time with each other. Marinette was growing up so fast and the monks would report to her of her daughter’s progress. They told her that Marinette was destined for greatness and to be a powerful leader, and that pleased Talia greatly. The man in charge of her daughter's training, Master Wang Fu, would show her photos of her daughter and her accomplishments; she wished that she would be allowed to do the same for Damian. But the League and the Temple of Order, while partners, were two separate entities when it came to how they were trained and taught. She smiled as she saw her children sparing on the temple’s grounds, each assessing how strong the other had become since their last meeting a year ago.

They were both 6-years-old now, and Marinette had lost one of her top baby teeth. She wore the traditional light blue training robes the monks wore while Damian wore his traditional black and red armor with his katana sheathed on his back. She watched her children and a small smile graced her lips as she watched the two. They were opposites in almost everything, yet they were still so similar. Damian’s fighting was aggressive and forceful while Marinette’s focussed on out maneuvering and tiring out the opponent from a distance before striking where it hurt the most. Their personalities were like fire and ice with Damian being aggressive and mighty while Marinette was soft and humble. Damian was assertive and forceful in the way he spoke, while Marinette was gentle and descriptive. Though, like she said before they had many similarities that helped to cement their relationship. They both were very artistic, in battle they both would get up and personal with their challenger if given the opportunity, both were very intelligent and soaked everything up like a sponge, and both were highly competitive. The sound of metal being hit together sounded from the training grounds as Damian and Marinette fought with their respective weapons; Damian with his katana and Marinette with her two daggers.

“You’ve definitely improved since the last visit, 'ukht, but so have I.”

Damian announced as he went in to sweep his sister’s legs all while bringing his blade down towards her. Marinette used her daggers to lift Damian’s blade and flipped backwards as Damian tried to perform his strike. She was very flexible and graceful when she was in the air. It sometimes looked as if she were flying when she performed some of her stunts.

“Maybe you have, Xiōngdì, but I seem to still have the upper hand.”

Marinette replied with smugness dripping from her voice as her brother glared at her. Marinette carefully crafted her words to manipulate while Damian spoke his mind and used his to order and command. They were opposites, but they completed each other in a way few will ever know.

The day Damian and Talia were to begin their trek back down the mountain Fu ran up to Damian and placed a piece of paper in his hands. He bowed respectfully to the old man and looked at the picture. It was a picture the old man had taken a few days ago. Marinette was smiling brightly and had her arm around his shoulder while he had his arms crossed in front of him and leaned into his sister’s touch with a small smirk. They were both in their training clothes and stood in front of the mountains that hid and protected the Temple of Order. He smiled at it and glanced at his sister who was waving goodbye with a big sad smile. He simply nodded and left not knowing that this would be the last time he would for many years that he would lay eyes on her once again.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Order, it was gone, destroyed! Marinette felt tears rush down her face as she watched her friends and mentors perish in the flames of miraculous magic gone astray. She could feel the cold wind passing by her as Master Fu dragged her away, but she couldn’t remove her gaze from her home that was falling into pieces. What would Damian think, she had to leave something for him to let him know she was okay! But she was never given the chance because she couldn’t pull away from her master. They were the last ones left, and Marinette couldn’t wrap her mind around it at all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian and Talia hiked the trial many months later, and as they neared the top they could sense something was definitely off. The top of the temple would usually be in view by now. When they finally reached the top they froze as they saw the ruins of the burned and destroyed temple in front of them. Talia was the first to break from her daze and ran to the ruins searching through them to find any remains of her daughter. Damian soon joined his mother, but it was no use. Damian and Talia believed the worst had happened to her, and with silent tears flowing down his face he stabbed his sword into the ground in front of the burnt remains and fell onto his knees in front of it. The sword would serve as a gravestone for the fallen warriors here, but it specifically would serve as Marinette’s grave marker. She was a brave warrior, one of the best, and she was gone now. Talia stood by her son’s side and soon kneeled in front of it as well with her hand placed on her son’s shoulder. As they traveled down the mountain Damian swore that he would never be vulnerable again, he would never care about anyone ever again, because the pain he felt was too intense and never wanted to feel it ever again.

So both He and Talia took on more missions, Talia was rarely at the base, always gone doing whatever her father needed. The training in Tibet never happened again, and Damian grew closer to his grandfather. He trained harder, attacked ruthlessly, and channeled all his pain and rage into his strikes. He held onto the photo that Fu had given him of the two of them so many years ago. He had it tucked away in a secret place in his room where no one would ever find it, because he wanted to keep her with him in some way. Never again, he wouldn’t be hurt like before ever again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette lived with Master Fu in a tea parlor under the guise of Marin Fu. She helped him run his parlor and distribute his charms to the people through the teas she brewed while he placed charms on people through the massage therapy he did. Fu let her be home schooled as she already knew way more than any normal school could teach her. She would just be repeating things when she could be learning more new material. She was also taught how to better practice her magic and use the miraculous. She was going to be the new guardian one day, she was going to be the last guardian one day, and that thought scared her and brought back all of the nightmares. She locked that night and anything before the fire back up in her mind only remembering what she needed to when she needed to.

Fu wanted her to interact with people though, so with the money he made he sent her to a gymnastics class where she could still retain her skills and get better at them. She honestly loved the classes and she felt so free when she did them. Nobody could beat her, in fact she advanced to level 10 quickly and was well on her way to the elite by the time she was 13. And that’s when Hawkmoth struck Paris.

Lady Rouge and her partner Chat Noir made a decent team, but he was nowhere near her skill level which often annoyed her. He wasn’t a true black cat, her brother was. He was her balanced counterpart, and this cat was just a stand in. And as time went on the imbalance continued the boy became corrupted by the destructive energy of the ring. She had continually told Master Fu about it, but he would not listen. And then it was time for him to pass, and she became the grand guardian, the last grand guardian. Tears fell down the young 15-year-olds face as she watched her mentor's spirit leave him in his peaceful slumber. He was so old, and it was just his time for him to go, but now she had nowhere to go, but she knew what she had to do.

“Hello, M’lady.”

Chat Noir said in a flirty tone as he spun his staff as if the speed he was doing it at would impress her.

“Hello, Chat.”

She replied terse with her arms crossed in front of her as she leaned on the railing of the Eiffel Tower and gazed at the sky that held little stars due to all of the lights of the city below them.

“Are you not excited to see your soulmate? Come on M’lady,”

He said grabbing one of her hands with a large smile and deep voice,

“let me take you out somewhere, just the two of us.”

It took everything in Marinette not to break his wrist in that moment, but she had to play along.

“Okay.”

Chat’s eyes widened and his leather tail began to move side to side in an excited manner.

“W-wait, really?!”

“You know what, ya. This week has been really tough and I could use it.”

Chat’s smile turned into a smirk and a dark twinkle lit up his eyes. He took a step back and held his hand, his ringed hand, out for her to take. SHe smiled at him gently and innocently and took his hand, and as he was about to pull her forward she took hold of the rings and ripped her hand off, taking the ring with her. There was a blonde boy with green eyes staring at her with shock and hurt written all over his face, then eventually anger.

“I am revoking you from being able to wield the Black Cat Miraculous. You are not compatible to wield this power as you are not my balanced counterpart. The ring has been corrupting and harming you after all of your exposure to it when you are not the right one to wear it while I hold the earrings. Thank you for the help you have given me in the past, but I’m afraid that I can not risk hurting you any longer.”

The boy stared at her with wide shocked eyes and nodded. She could see that he too had now noticed the change as with the ring it didn’t feel like he changed at all. She helped him get to his house and left after shaking his hand and thanking him one last time for his help. And as she was about to leave the property she heard the sound of something above her opening and through the now open window she saw an akuma flying out of it.

She quickly caught the akuma and crashed through the glass window into the dark room. Before Hawkmoth could even realize what had happened she had tied him up in her yo-yo and he was pinned in place with the tight cord. If she pulled it any tighter it would cut into his skin and draw blood. She grabbed the broach from the middle of the suit --which was as hideous as his akuma designs, if not worse-- and watched the man detransform making sure the camera on her yo-yo recorded the whole thing.

“You will be subject to the curse of whatever your abused kwami sees fit for you, and then the people of Paris will have you.”

Was all she said as she brought the man onto his knees so he could properly respect the kwami and the God’s they are. Nooroo appeared and stared down at the man in front of him with an angered fiery glare.

“Gabriel Agreste, you have abused me and my miraculous for too long! I bring upon a curse upon you, that no one will ever believe a word you say, and that your craft of manipulation will only work against you!”

And with that, pain courses through Gabriel and the wings of a butterfly were branded on the left side of his chest just above his heart. She left soon after that and sent the footage for the police. She watched from a distance as the police took him in, and told one of the officers that Adrien was innocent and had no connection to his father’s scheme. Once she was sure Gabriel would not be able to escape his justice she pulled the horse miraculous from her yo-yo and summoned a portal to wherever she needed to be next.

~~~~~~~~~~

Damian was in the cave training when Todd burst in and began to run towards him with a stupid smug grin on his face. Damian rolled his eyes and watched Todd stop in front of him holding something small and flimsy in his hand.

“Demon Spawn,”

He breathed out, his smug smile growing wider,

“Did you have a girlfriend in the league?”

Damian was….confused. He had no such thing, but as Todd showed him the thing in his hand his blood froze. It was the photo of him and Marinette. How did he find it?! Why did he even have it?!

“Give it back, Todd.”

Damian growled lowly hands gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

“She is! Guys, Damian had a-“

He tackled Jason after that and wrestled the photo out of his grip and held it close to him. He glared daggers at Todd and made absolutely sure that the old photo was still intact. Once he was sure. Todd was back on his feet and Damian had the urge to run him through with his sword for daring to rummage through his belongings and to dare touch his picture. He opened his mouth to spit out fiery words of anger, when a portal opened right in front of Damian. A girl walked out of it and the portal immediately closed. It was absolutely silent in the cave as the other occupants who were also there stared at the person. The girl was rigid as she stared Damian directly in the eyes, and he felt a familiar pull to her.

“Kaalki, Tikki separate. Tikki spots off.”

She spoke quickly, and her voice, and those words, and he knew who she was. But that was impossible, because she had died, hadn’t she?! Arms wrapped around him and he could hear sniffles and he felt his arms wrap robotically around the small frame of his sister.

“Xiōngdì, I missed you so much! I’m sorry I couldn’t get to you sooner! Th-the Order was destroyed and Fu woul-wouldn’t let me leave a message, and-and someone was misusing the Butterfly in France (sniff). And-and…..”

She took a long shaky breath in and sighed,

“I missed you so much.”

It took a while to realize that silent tears were falling down his face, and he hugged her even tighter against his chest. Because his sister, his twin sister was alive, and she hadn’t died in the fire and destruction of the temple.

“It’s okay, 'ukht. I’ve got you.”

They stayed like that for a few precious moments before Todd yelled,

“What the f*!”

———————

Permanent Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar

#maribat #sibling au #sibling daminette #marinette al ghul wayne #marinette fu #damian al ghul wayne #monk marinette #talia sugar #bio!dad bruce wayne #twins au #The Order #mlb x batman #dc x mlb #angst #fluff

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astro-syd · 3 years ago

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Jimin’s Duality (From an Astrological Perspective)

Jimin has become quite famous for the dual nature of his personality, so today I’m here to give a bit of astrological insight into this phenomenon! Jimin easily transitions between his sweet, adorable, mochi self and his passionate, intense stage persona. Neither of these “personas” are an acting stunt of any kind. They’re true aspects of Jimin’s personality! He simply knows which moments are the most appropriate and effective for channeling each side of himself, and all of these sides show up clearly within his natal chart. Let’s take a look!

Cancer Ascendant: child of the moon

Jimin’s Ascendant falls within Cancer, a cardinal water sign ruled by the moon. This also means that the moon is Jimin’s chart ruler! It holds a lot of significance in his natal chart.

Because Cancer rules over your home, family life, childhood and foundations, people with their Sun or Ascendant in this sign tend to have a very sweet, innocent, even childish nature about them. They tend to keep in touch with their inner child as they grow older, and might have something of a mischievous nature because of this too!

Cancer and the Moon often rule the mother in astrology, so people with this ascendant can easily take on a very motherly, nurturing quality. Jimin has been known to keep a close eye on the other members and he’s often the first one rushing to comfort them if need be.

This also somewhat stems from his emotional intelligence and sensitivity. Those with a Moon ruler tend to be very sensitive to emotions and mood swings, and Jimin is no exception. He’s highly empathetic, and with his Libra Sun & Mercury in his 4th house (ruled by Cancer), one of his natural gifts revolves around bringing balance to others’ emotional states. Others will feel magnetically drawn to him for healing.

Cancer is a common Ascendant to see in people within performing arts careers. This is because of their emotional availability and talent for expressing feelings. There’s something about Jimin’s vulnerability which makes people empathize with him, understand him on a very human level, and even want to protect him, much like you would a small child. It definitely contributes to his very “cute” and “sweet” vibe, even if he is a fully grown adult who’s capable of handling himself, haha.

Cancer rising people are very sensitive to their environment. When Jimin is put on unfamiliar ground, he will tend to withdraw or act shy until he feels more comfortable. He’s also likely to become flustered easily, especially when he’s in public and knows he’s got many eyes/cameras on him. His overarching moods and personality take on a very changeable quality, much like ocean tides. The ways in which he chooses to present himself are often highly based upon his immediate environment.

The Ascendant also holds a lot of weight over someone’s physical appearance. Cancer rising people can have a round, moon-like face shape and cute apple cheeks, especially when they smile. They’re known for a very large, bright smile, and large, puffy lips. Cancer natives often possess tiny hands and feet, and might even have something of a frail appearance.

They usually are quite soft-spoken, and with Jimin’s Moon residing in Gemini, this sign will have a lot of influence over his tone of voice. It definitely contributes to his light, “angelic” tone and the emotional quality of his singing. The Gemini influence here also appears in his sloping jawline and more pointed chin.

Moon in Gemini: messenger of emotion

Within Jimin’s chart ruler residing in communicative Gemini, he definitely knows how to put his feelings, memories, and experiences into words. Even if he doesn’t like to talk about his feelings too often, they’ll naturally bleed into his speech, his writing, and his art.

His emotions are easily influenced by others’ words as well, and this is especially true of his family and the people he loves. ARMY has picked up on the fact that our Jiminnie loves praise, but he’s not really using it as an ego boost. His feeling states are genuinely affected by the words of those around him. Watch the way his whole face lights up when the members compliment him and you’ll see what I mean. This also makes him more sensitive to negative feedback though, so he has to be a little careful about the opinions he chooses to expose himself to.

One of his greatest life lessons is to learn how to articulate his own inner feelings and experiences, as well as encouraging others to do the same. Allowing himself to be vulnerable and emotional is not only extremely healthy for him (even more so than the average person), but it also helps others to feel more comfortable and healed when doing the same.

In his childhood, his family members probably spent a lot of time talking about their feelings, but they might have struggled to actually feel them and discuss these emotions from a genuinely vulnerable standpoint. This is part of Jimin’s ancestral lesson to carry out in this lifetime!

His moon resides in his 12th house, which is a highly intuitive and spiritual placement. The 12th rules all things unseen, including spirits, dreams, secrets, hidden enemies, and religion. It’s a very foggy, mystical house. A lot of his feelings and mood swings are at least somewhat subconscious, which is also why it’s very healthy for him to speak about them. Communication will help to draw his emotions out of this hazy house and into the light of day where he can then process and make sense of what he’s feeling.

The 12th also rules the collective unconscious, so Jimin unfortunately also has a very good understanding of all of the underlying pains, traumas, and wounds of our societies. He’s very good at understanding human nature and human suffering, which makes him a great artist and an incredible healer, but it’s also a heavy burden to bear. Much of his empathy stems from this awareness which he’s possessed from a very young age. It’s possible that he even has psychic or empathic abilities of some kind, regardless of whether or not he’s in touch with them.

He’s a very trustworthy confidant. Jimin is a great listener, and because the 12th house rules secrets, he’s fantastic about protecting people in this way. He can be trusted with just about any information and will genuinely take these secrets to the grave. He enjoys the process of healing and supporting others, and protecting their most sensitive memories, experiences, and information is just another way for him to nurture those around him. This is another part of his appeal as a celebrity- he simply feels trustworthy, especially when he’s speaking from the heart and caring for those around him. He’d also make a great therapist, haha!

Libra Sun & Mercury: creator of harmony

Jimin has both his Sun and Mercury residing within fair and balanced Libra. It’s a sign which enjoys showing a polite, friendly, peaceful, and harmonious attitude, especially in public. Jimin is very much aware that there’s a time and a place for all aspects of his personality, and he knows when to utilize each side in order to achieve the best response from the public. He knows how to play an audience very well while still coming from a very genuine place within himself.

Because Libra is ruled by Venus and rules over the house of partnerships, these people tend to be natural flirts- and Jimin is definitely no exception. Flirting with others and generally being a huge tease is very fun for him, in fact he sees it as something of a game (more on that in the next section). He likes to charm others and be received well in the eyes of the public as much as possible.

Libra is a very non-confrontational sign which dislikes conflict, and Jimin can act as a peacemaker within their group whenever disputes or misunderstandings occur (though all BTS members share this energy to some extent). When appearing in public or voicing his opinion in interviews, he often has a very well put-together, diplomatic vibe about him.

Scorpio Venus, Mars, & Pluto: the playful devil

So, we’ve discussed our charming, diplomatic prince Park Jimin, as well as our cute and loving mochi, but where on earth does that stage persona come from?! Let me introduce you to Jimin’s most deadly placements: His Venus, Mars, and Pluto all within his 5th house in Scorpio.

Venus and Mars are both planets which deal with romantic relationships. Venus in astrology tells us about the sorts of people, things, and experiences we’re attracted to, as well as the kind of person we’ll be within a romantic relationship. It rules over the arts, fashion, partnerships, and commitments. Mars, on the other hand, is a lot more masculine and aggressive. It rules over our anger, our motivations, and our drive. It can indicate how we’ll chase after the people, goals, and experiences we desire in life.

Jimin has both of these romantic, charismatic planets in his 5th house, which rules performance, the arts and creativity, fun and games, parties, lighthearted romance, and children. It’s very common to see actors and performers with strong planetary placements within this house, but Jimin certainly has quite the combo working for him here.

The emphasis around his intense, passionate, and charismatic stage persona comes from the sign we’re in: Scorpio. It’s ruled by Pluto, the Underworld planet, and rules over all things dark, mysterious, and taboo in society. Secrets, mystery, the occult, psychology, sexuality, and power all fall within this planet’s reign.

People within strong Scorpio placements like to dive deep into their relationships and experiences. They like a little mystery, but the appeal comes from the act of uncovering these secrets. They often make great detectives or psychologists because they’re fantastic at understanding human nature and getting to the bottom of a situation.

This is the reason behind Jimin’s intense stare. Many Scorpios are known for having really intimidating eyes, and it’s because they almost seem to peer straight into the depths of your soul. It can feel as if they’ve exposed all of the things you wish to keep hidden simply by watching you- and with their keen observational skills, maybe they have.

That said, the lure of the dark and mysterious catches the eyes of many- and Jimin uses these placements to his advantage when performing. Scorpio is a fixed water sign, so you can think of it like the depths of the deep ocean. His art, movements, and power are all influenced by this energy. His movements are fluid but powerful, his art is deep, emotional, and moving but still mysterious and somewhat guarded, and even just this side of his personality seems unique and captivating when compared to his usual off-stage personality.

This is also a sign which is prone to obsession. Jimin’s work ethic and attention to detail has been praised time and time again, and it likely stems from the careful attention he gives to every aspect of his work until it meets the image he wishes to portray. He knows what the audience wants to see and how best to meet their expectations. He lets you glimpse into his power, his depth, and his sexuality through his performances, but never exposes more than he wants to.

Remember that those Libra placements love to tease, and in the 5th house here, he plays his movements like a game. His performances become a place where he can momentarily flaunt the darker Underworld energies within his personality, knowing that the audience will respond well when it’s within the right context. The sides of himself which are deep, obsessive, jealous, intense, and passionate find an outlet on the stage, and he needs this outlet to avoid taking these energies out on either himself or others in more destructive ways.

His Mars conjuncts his Pluto here, which is a wildly powerful placement. Pluto is the planet of death and rebirth, destruction and transformation, and in joining with the God of War in a chart, these two become a major force to be reckoned with. You can see it in his confidence on stage, his presence, and the ways in which he influences a crowd. He’s magnetic and attractive, and he can command attention without hardly lifting a finger.

In any other sign, this combination of planets has the power to become incredibly destructive (and in fact, it can be the worst in Scorpio if not handled properly), but Jimin’s grasp on this force he embodies is admirably strong. Remember when the other members said that he’s the scariest when angry? You wouldn’t want to see this placement out of control. The same forces which can give the strongest ability to understand, uncover, and heal others’ hidden wounds also has the potential to use them for harm.

Jimin, however, understands his power and channels the most intense sides of his personality into his art. When he steps onto a stage, he knows exactly what he’s there to do. He has rehearsed tirelessly, he knows what he wants to portray and how to achieve it, and he has a great sense of how the public will respond to his every move.

His chart is water dominant, and he’s a constant reminder that the water element is not just sensitive and emotional. Jimin’s Moon ruler pushes and pulls at ocean tides in the same way he influences our emotions. The same waters which flow through Jimin’s heart and psyche also have the power to create new life or flood entire cities. He’s a great example of how our charts become what we make of them. He’s successful and powerful while still retaining his humility, he’s sensitive and emotional without being too fearful or avoidant, and he’s understanding and manipulative but uses these forces for healing. An angel, perhaps?

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love-and-monsters · 4 years ago

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Fake Dating pt. 2

M Faerie X F human reader, 6,405 words

This is a part two to this story. Elwain and his human are safely in the human world, dealing with things far more mundane than an assassination attempt. Both of them are adjusting to the new life and to each other. Very fluffy, with some caretaking. I was in a very romantic mood while writing this and I think you can tell.

Content notes: mentions of parents trying to kill their child, descriptions of minor illness.

“This is the dumbest thing I’ve ever seen. Why do humans like this?”

You repressed a snicker. “You’re watching it.”

Elwain didn’t even look away from the screen to reply. “You put it on.”

“I just turned on the TV. You’re the one who started watching.” Elwain made a noncommittal noise. You pressed your lips together, trying not to smile. “I can change the channel, if you want. There’s a documentary on that I wanted to-”

“No, this is fine,” Elwain said. He hopped onto the couch next to you and curled up. “Ugh. These people know that expensive doesn’t mean good, right?”

You covered your mouth with a hand. Elwain actually, legitimately enjoying trashy reality shows was by far the best thing you’d learned about his personality since you’d started living together. The worst thing was probably that he’d grown up with servants and had no comprehension of household chores. It had taken a few weeks to get him to put his food back in the refrigerator when he was done with it, and you weren’t sure he was ever going to get the hang of doing dishes. Still. He was getting better.

“You’re still going to need to vacuum later tonight,” you reminded him. Elwain groaned.

“I spent all day at work!” he said. “I should get a day off.”

“You only had a five hour shift today. I worked seven. Plus, I have school. You don’t get breaks on household chores. Doesn’t matter how much you worked, they still have to be done.” Elwain looked away sulkily. That was an expression you were getting uncomfortably familiar with. “And you’re not allowed to do magic for it, either.”

“What? Just because you can’t use magic, there is no reason for me to be forbidden!” Elwain said.

“Yeah, sure. You remember what happened last time you used magic to clean the apartment?” Bright pink spots appeared on Elwain’s cheeks. He glared down at the couch, expression screwed up in irritation.

“I fixed that.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. You fixed the apartment. What you’re never going to fix is my trauma from walking into my apartment and finding everything covered in spiders!”

“I apologized!”

“Look, the next time you decide to enchant a bunch of bugs into doing household chores, just. Don’t.”

Elwain huffed. “They weren’t even venomous to humans! All of you are so easily frightened. They weren’t going to hurt you.”

“I think the heart attack I had upon entering my own apartment could be considered as hurting me,” you muttered. Elwain looked sour, but didn’t respond, apparently returning to his TV show. Elwain’s adjustment to the human world had been… difficult. He had no real understanding of conventional social norms and obviously still expected everyone to treat him like a noble, despite working a minimum wage job at a fast-food restaurant. Not to mention that he seemed to have very loose morals when it came to enchanting mortals. As far as you were aware, he’d never done it to you, but he didn’t seem to have any sort of restraint when it came to anyone else. Before he’d gotten his job in customer service, he’d made all of his money by charming random people off the street into handing over their wallets.

Admittedly, his skills had come in handy. You didn’t feel particularly good about it, but he had charmed the landlord into giving you the apartment for significantly less than the going rate. In your defense, there hadn’t been many options. You couldn’t stay in your parent’s house with a Fae hanging around, and even with both of you working, there was no way to afford an apartment otherwise.

It did not help that Elwain apparently found your moral crisis very funny.

“You all live by such dumb rules all the time. If you really wanted, I could probably charm someone into giving us their house, or just letting us stay there.”

“That feels morally dubious,” you said.

“Ugh. You won’t let me steal anything, you won’t let me charm people into letting us use their things without stealing them, you won’t even let me charm people into handing some things over!” Elwain flopped across the couch. “So now we’re living in a garbage apartment and I have to work at a greasy food place where customers yell all the time and-”

“It’s a nice apartment, especially considering what we’re paying for it,” you interrupted. “And if you use magic too often, people might start figuring out that something weird is going on.”

“I doubt it. Mortals are stupid.” But Elwain didn’t protest, and went to his job as usual, and didn’t steal, which was more respect for your rules than you were worried he’d show. And, really, you were glad you’d instated the ‘no magic’ rule at large, given how unpredictable the results could be.

Elwain sprawled across the couch. He had a tendency to take up ridiculous amounts of space, pushing you to the edges of the couch to avoid contact. Eventually, you got up.

“Where are you going?” Elwain asked as you walked out of the room.

“I’m going to study for a bit before bed,” you called back. “Enjoy your show.”

He stared after you until your door clicked shut. Weird. He’d seemed almost annoyed about you leaving, even though it meant he could watch his shows for longer and you would stop bugging him about vacuuming. Whatever. He’d been acting weird recently, though. Maybe you should talk to him about it. He’d seemed fine for the first month or so after leaving his home and his parents trying to kill him, but maybe he was having some sort of delayed reaction.

You buried yourself in your textbooks for the next few hours, trying to get a solid start on one of your papers. The back of your mind seemed to be focused on the little noises in the apartment, though. Every sound of footsteps or things being moved pulled your attention back to the rest of the house. Eventually, you heard the sound of the vacuum running for a while before Elwain headed into his room.

He never went back into the main area of your apartment and, buried in work, you were soon thoroughly distracted. Gradually, as you worked, your mind grew less and less focused until you were face down in your books, dead asleep.

“Wake up!”

You bolted upright. There was a piece of paper sticking to your cheek from a stream of drool. You hurriedly pulled it off. “What? What’s going on?” You blinked, focusing on Elwain’s fine face in front of you. “What are you doing in my room?”

“Your alarm was going off. I can’t believe you didn’t hear it. It woke me up.” Sure enough, your phone, which was still sitting across the room from you, on its charger, was ringing furiously. You weren’t surprised that you hadn’t noticed it, though. Your head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton.

“Oh. Sorry.” You rose a little unsteadily and turned the alarm off. “Thanks for waking me. Probably would have slept right through it if you hadn’t.”

“Uh huh,” Elwain said. “Did someone curse you?”

You blinked at him. He seemed dead serious. “Uh, no. I doubt it. Unless you know something I don’t.”

“If you’re asking about my parents, I would assume they are no longer concerned about me,” Elwain said. His voice was clipped, like it always was when he talked about his parents. “I don’t think they would bother to curse a mortal. If they had the means to lay a curse on someone, it would be far easier and more effective to just curse me.” He paused. “I was only asking because you look terrible.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled.

“You do. Why didn’t you sleep in your actual bed last night?” he asked.

“Because I fell asleep at my desk by accident. Are you going to stand here and just insult me or-” You broke off into a round of thick, hacking coughs. Elwain took a step back, alarm crossing his face.

“What is happening to you?” He lifted his arms in front of him, like he was trying to ward off some kind of evil spirit.

“It’s a cough,” you said. “Have you never seen a cough before?”

Elwain lowered his arms, still looking at me like he thought you would start convulsing at any moment. “Fae don’t do that.”

“They don’t cough?” You rubbed at your chest. A significant amount of phlegm had settled there. God, your body really had to pick the worst time to get sick.

“Not like that,” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I’m sick,” you told him.

He nodded slowly. “I’ve heard of that. A mortal thing. Your forms are weak, so you occasionally fall ill. It is a sign of your small, failing lifespans.”

You considered correcting him, but decided that you had better ways to spend your morning than trying to explain germ theory to a Faerie. “Yeah. Sure. Well. I’m sick. So that’s why I’m coughing. It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.”

Elwain narrowed his eyes. “Hmph. Well. I have work. Don’t die while I’m out.”

“I’m not in any danger of dying,” you told him. “Go head to work. Have fun.”

“That’s unlikely,” he muttered, but he left your room without protest. You closed your door after him and set about getting ready for your day.

The cold had settled into your head and chest and you could tell it was going to be bad already, even before it had come on fully. God. You could not afford to get sick.

Elwain was eating breakfast when you shuffled into the kitchen. You’d needed to absolutely cake your face in makeup to look presentable, and you saw his brows rise as he looked at you. Fortunately, the Fae at least knew how to keep their mouths shut. He just looked back at the frozen waffles he was toasting.

You snagged a granola bar and headed for the door. “Have a good day at work!” you called over your shoulder. Elwain grunted in response. The door swung shut behind you.

Work was exhausting, as per usual. It was better than Elwain’s job by a long shot, since you were working in a local candy store run by a sweet older couple, but between keeping an eye on any batches of candy being produced, sorting out customers, and having to deal with the requisite child-throwing-a-fit-for-not-getting-sweets, it was tiring. Trying to look bright and perky while being weighted down with a cold was awful.

As soon as work was off, you had class. Dragging yourself through it was a slow, painful slog. By the end, your head was fuzzy and you felt dead on your feet. Slowly, you hauled yourself on the bus and fell asleep.

Naturally, you missed your stop.

About an hour after you were supposed to be home, you dragged yourself in through the door. Elwain practically slammed into you. His hands clapped on either side of his face and he peered intently at you. “Where have you been? I’ve been calling you! I thought you were dead!”

You pushed him off you and bent to one side to cough heavily until you were nearly sagging to the floor. Elwain stared at you. “Sorry,” you rasped when you’d stopped. “I fell asleep. And then my phone was on low battery and I wanted to make sure I had enough battery to use my GPS to get home.”

“You couldn’t have texted me?” Elwain drew himself up, hands on his hips. The entire situation reminded you, ridiculously, of your mom when you came home after a night out. “I was worried! I didn’t know where you were, and mortals are so ridiculously fragile-”

“Aw, you’d have been fine,” you said. “If anything, you’d be able to do more without my stupid mortal morals.”

Elwain’s expression went strange for a moment. “Are you feeling well? You seem… off.”

“I’m not feeling well. I’d like to lie down, actually.” You coughed again. “That okay with you?” Elwain was still frowning, but he stepped aside, allowing you down the hall and into your room.

You went down into your bed face-first. Almost as soon as you hit the pillows, your mind faded into sleep. Sleep came to you in fitful waves. You kept waking, coughing, rolling over and falling asleep again. When your alarm pulled you back to full consciousness, you felt thoroughly awful. The cold had settled firmly into your chest and head, gumming everything up. Your chest rasped every time you breathed in, prompting heavy coughing fits, you shivered even when you were wrapped in blankets, and your head felt full, achy, and cloudy.

The cold had apparently decided to upgrade to a full-blown illness. Slowly, you shoved yourself upright. It was hard to breathe through your nose and your mouth. Your throat stung with every inhale. Every cell of your body just wanted to pop some of the cold medicine that made you sleep and hopefully you’d wake up when it was all over.

Just as you were standing up, someone knocked on your door.

Well, you knew who. There was only one person who it could be. Grimacing, you walked over to the door and pulled it open. “Elwain. What?”

He stared at you. “I was- are you okay?”

“I’m sick. You remember the discussion was had yesterday?” you said. “Anyway. You needed something?”

Elwain looked you over. You hadn’t looking into a mirror, but given his expression, you probably looked terrible. He seemed to think you were five seconds from crumbling into a pile of ash, like a vampire exposed to sunlight. “Do I need to call 911?” he asked.

“Uh, no. It’s a cold. I don’t need an ambulance. I need to sleep for a while. Why are you knocking on my door?” you asked. Elwain’s mouth moved wordlessly. Whatever he had wanted to talk to you about, it seemed to have been completely derailed.

“I… er.” Elwain’s gaze flicked over you again. “Well. I wanted to see how you were doing. You went to bed right after you got home last night and I never saw you again. And you seem to be doing… poorly.”

“Yeah. I’m not doing great. I really just want to go back to bed.” You rubbed your hand over your head. “I feel like shit.”

Elwain hesitated. “Do you need me to do something?”

“Just go about your day. I’ll try to keep my gross self out of your way.” You slouched across your room to your bed. “If you don’t need anything else, I’m going to try to get a little more sleep.”

Elwain lingered in the doorway for a few moments longer. Finally, he turned and headed into the kitchen. The door remained open behind him, and you couldn’t be bothered to get up and close it again. Instead, you buried your head in your pillow. Sleep claimed you again within moments.

Less than an hour later, your alarm went off again. You slapped at it balefully until it shut off. Somehow, it felt like you gotten negative sleep, like sleeping had made you even more tired. Slowly, painfully, you pushed yourself upright. Shivers wracked your frame. How had sleep made everything worse?

You threw on the first clothes that you could get your hands on and shuffled into the kitchen. Elwain looked up from his breakfast. His mouth opened slightly. “Good lord. Maybe you have been cursed.”

“Thanks,” you mumbled. “I don’t look that bad.” You did, but you’d slathered enough makeup on your face to cover most of it. Then again, maybe that wasn’t enough to hide from Fae eyes.

“You look like a walking corpse,” Elwain said. You collapsed in the seat next to him and coughed into your fist. The force of the motion made your head throb. Elwain curled his lips back from his teeth in a grimace. “Are you certain you don’t need me to call 911?”

“No. It’s a cold. I’m-” You dissolved into a fit of coughing so severe it was difficult to catch your breath. Elwain stared at you, eyes wide. “I’m fine,” you croaked.

Elwain narrowed his eyes, but returned to his phone. You didn’t know where he’d gotten it from, because he certainly hadn’t purchased it, but you’d decided you weren’t going to ask. You ate slowly, mostly because your stomach felt tender, and you couldn’t finish even half of your normal portion. After a while of picking at your food, you dumped your dishes in the sink and started gathering your items to head out.

“Where are you going?” You startled. Elwain had appeared at your shoulder, completely silent. You might have chalked up not noticing him to your cold-dulled senses, but he could sneak up on you no matter how well you were feeling.

“Work,” you said.

Elwain looked back down at his phone. “You are not supposed to leave the house if you’re sick.”

“It’s a cold. I’ll be fine,” you said.

Elwain kept looking at his phone. “If you are sick, you are supposed to stay home, both so you can avoid infecting others and so you can recover.”

“Are you reading that off a website? Where are you reading that from?” You tried to grab his phone, but he gracefully slipped out of your reach.

“I searched about human illnesses on the internet,” he said. “Your symptoms are consistent with the common cold, but they are also consistent with pneumonia. It says you should sleep and drink water until you are recovered.”

“Look,” you said. “I’m fine. It’s a cold. I’ve had them before. I will have them after this one. I know how to handle them. I’ll pop some cold medicine and I’ll be fine.” Elwain stared at you. His expression was hard to read. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.” You sniffed and blotted at your face with a tissue. “I’m going to leave now. I’ll see you later.”

You swept out the door, giving Elwain a wave. He stared after you, not moving until you slammed the door shut.

It was a long, slow, awful day. You could barely keep your head together. By the time you got home, your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and your mind was swimming.

You dragged yourself through the door. Your body felt like you were wrapped in a massive, thick blanket. Everything was warm and it was hard to move, like everything was stiff.

Elwain stared at you as you pulled yourself into the kitchen. “You look like death warmed over.”

“Fine,” you mumbled. “’m fine.” You slouched over the counter and leaned against it. Elwain stood, stepping closer to you. “I’m good. I… I’m good. Just… Tired. Tired. Need to nap.”

“Perhaps you should nap in your room,” Elwain said. “Not on the counter.”

“I’m fine here.” Your words were getting mushy. Why weren’t your lips moving correctly? “I’m good. I just, um. Need. Something…”

“It’s okay. You’re okay. Here, hold onto me. I’ll-” Elwian’s hands were on your waist, on your back. You felt boneless, mushy. Your limbs weren’t moving the way you wanted them to. The only thing you could feel were Elwain’s hands supporting you. Was he carrying you? Maybe. You felt like you were floating. Your head was disconnected from your body, floating. Someone was speaking to you from far away, a soothing voice. It was so soothing. Maybe you could just sleep for a bit. Just sleep. It would be nice to just sleep.

Dimly, you came back to yourself. You blinked your eyes open. The ceiling was unfamiliar, at least as ceilings went. Not that you were familiar with many ceilings, really. Looking down at yourself revealed why the ceiling was so unfamiliar. The bed was covered in heavy, dark blue sheets. Elwain’s sheets. You were in his bed.

Slowly, you pushed yourself upright. You still felt bad, but less bad than you had been feeling. A raking cough escaped your chest, thick with phlegm.

“You’re up!” Elwain appeared in the doorway. He looked… frazzled? You weren’t sure the Fae could look as frazzled and unkempt as a human could, but he didn’t look as ethereally beautiful as he usually did. He looked sort of ruffled. “I was considering dragging you to the hospital, but the internet said that maybe ginger tea would actually be better, so I got you some of that.” He indicated the cup in his hands.

“You have got to stop getting all your information from the internet. Or at least I need to give you a media literacy course on identifying good sources,” you croaked. Your voice sounded bad, but it no longer hurt to speak. It just felt uncomfortable.

Elwain gave you a bewildered look and held the cup out toward you. “Drink it.” You took it obligingly and took a sip. Elwain must have dumped half a bottle of honey in it, because it was so sweet you almost couldn’t taste the ginger. You swallowed it carefully.

“Thank you,” you said when you’d finished the cup. “What, uh. What exactly happened to me?”

Elwain sat on the end of your bed. He was wearing his old cloak, the one he’d taken with him when he’d fled from Faerie. He tucked it tighter around him, fingers fidgeting at the hem. “I was hoping you could inform me of that, actually. I was quite frightened when you collapsed like that.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said. Vaguely, you remembered passing out. “How long was I out?”

Elwain glanced at the clock. “Mn. Less than an hour? You were in and out for the first ten minutes, mumbling a lot.” You had vague memories of Elwain leaning over you, expression panicked. Must have been from then. “Once I got you into bed, you fell asleep. I wasn’t sure if I should wake you or not.”

“It is,” you said. “Probably a good idea to let me sleep. Though if I ever do collapse again, please call 911.” You considered. “Well, I guess don’t call 911 unless I’m actually dying. I can’t afford the ambulance.”

Elwain nodded, even though he looked politely confused. “Is your illness getting worse?”

“Maybe,” you said. “It’s hard to tell. I think I have a fever now, so that sucks.”

With absolutely no warning, Elwain leaned forward. His face was abruptly so close to yours, close enough to feel his cool breath tickling your skin. The hairs on the back of your neck lifted. Suddenly the only thoughts in your head had to do with his lips pressing to yours, his cool mouth meandering along your skin-

His forehead touched yours. His eyes closed, a little furrow appearing in his brow. “You’re warm,” he said. “Very warm.” He sat back.

You blinked. “Uh. You can do that with your hand, you know.”

“Oh? I saw the forehead one on the internet,” Elwain said, but he reached up and cradled your face in his hands. With a soft, delicate touch, the back of his hand brushed against your forehead and down your cheek. The touch made something in your chest tighten and your breath catch. “You still feel warm.”

You moved your mouth, trying to get your brain back in gear. “Uh, yeah. Fever! That’s, uh. Bad. I need, um. You remember that pill bottle in the bathroom I showed you? The one with the little red pills?” Elwain nodded. “Get those and a glass of water. They’ll bring the fever down.”

Elwain vanished for a moment and returned with a tall glass water and the bottle of pills. He watched as you downed them and sank back into bed. His sheets were softer than yours, his bed even more luxuriously plush. You weren’t sure where he’d gotten the sheets from, or if maybe they were the sheets you’d bought him, just augmented with magic. “Why did you put me in your bed, anyway?” you asked. “My bed’s not that much further away.”

“I wanted to keep an eye on you,” Elwain said. “And you do not like me coming in your room.”

“I don’t like you just walking into my room whenever you feel like it, but you can come into my room,” you said. But you were pretty glad he’d put you in his bed. Everything in his room smelled faintly floral and herbal, a smell that relaxed you. Everything was cozy.

“I am not familiar with how to deal with sick mortals,” Elwain said. “Do you need anything else?”

“No. I just need to rest.” You paused, looking toward the window. “I should probably head back to my own room, actually. You’ll probably want to sleep here tonight, right?”

Elwain shook his head. “Stay. You need to rest. I will sleep elsewhere.” He swept out of the room, cloak fluttering behind him. You stared after him for a moment before sinking back into bed. Despite just waking up, your head was already muddy again. Maybe Elwain had gotten you the pills with the sleeping medicine in them. Your eyes closed. Within moments, you were drifting away, fast asleep.

You dreamed of strange things, of hands on your face, cupping your cheek, of soft lips pressed to your neck, of kind eyes and strong arms carrying you around. When you opened your eyes to see the same kind eyes staring down at you, you were half-convinced you were still dreaming.

“Hello,” Elwain said. “You have been asleep for a while.”

You blinked. Your body did have that foggy heaviness that came when you’d been sleeping deeply. Even your discomfort from the illness seemed far away and dim. “Elwain.”

“Yes. I’m right here.” He said it more gently than a simple statement of fact, almost like a reassurance.

“How long was I out?” There was bright sunlight streaming in through the window and across the bed. You lifted a hand to clumsily shield your eyes.

“Over twelve hours. I thought you should probably sleep. That’s what the internet said.”

“Oh, man, we are going to need to get you some better resources than just ‘the internet,’” you said. “But you were right. Thanks for letting me sleep.” Slowly, you shoved yourself up into a sitting position. “What’s that?”

Elwain held a bowl out to you. “I was told that soup was good for mortal illnesses.”

You took the bowl of vegetable broth. Elwain’s cooking was usually pretty hit or miss- he could follow recipes just fine, but he also had a habit of deciding that he had a better idea than the recipe and going completely off the rails. The soup just seemed to be broth, though. You took a cautious sip. It was watery, but tolerable.

“Are you feeling better?” Elwain asked. You nodded, glancing over at the clock.

“It’s past nine,” you noticed. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I called in sick. I wanted to stay home to make sure you were all right.” Elwain looked completely serious.

“It’s just a cold. I’m fine.”

Elwain’s eyes narrowed. “You collapsed.”

“Well, yeah, but…” You trailed off. There wasn’t much you could say in response to that. “Fine. But if you get fired for this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“I will not be fired. My boss loves me.” Elwain gave a superior little sniff, nose stuck up in the air. You laughed into your bowl of broth.

When you were finished, Elwain took your bowl back into the kitchen, returning only a few moments later. “Do you need anything else?”

“I think I’m okay,” you said. “You really didn’t have to stay home to take care of me. There’s not going to be a lot to do. I think I’m mostly going to sleep.”

“Regardless. I think it is better to be safe.” Elwain looked at you from the doorway for a moment longer. “I need you.”

He left the doorway. You could hear his footsteps retreating into your apartment, perfectly steady, like what he said hadn’t made your chest tighten intensely. You sank back into his bed. His scent wreathed around you, gentle and reassuring. Oh, god. Warm feelings were fluttering up in your stomach, swelling through chest and trembling in your lungs. Worse than that, they felt familiar. How long had these feelings been lingering in the background of your mind? And now they had surfaced and you didn’t know what to do with them. Naturally, you would have some kind of emotional crisis when you were sick.

You faded in and out of dreams where Elwain’s scent wreathed around you and his gentle hands stroked your forehead and cheeks. You woke up feeling oddly melancholy.

The sounds of the TV drifted through the open door. Shaking some feeling back into your heavy limbs, you hauled a blanket over your shoulders and headed into the living room.

Elwain was draped over the couch, staring at the TV. There was some soap opera on with a woman and a man hysterically throwing themselves at each other. Elwain looked up as you padded into the room. “Is it okay for you to be out of bed?” he asked.

“Yeah. I feel better, actually.” The sleep had helped quite a bit. You still felt foggy, but the pain in your head and chest had faded. Elwain sat up, drawing his limbs in closer to himself so you could sit next to him.

“You look less… corpse-like,” he said. Before you realized what he was doing, he took hold of your face in both hands and pulled you closer to him. “You are still warm.”

“Uh, yeah. I’m getting better.” You reached up and carefully pried his fingers off your face. You were overly aware of how your fingers lingered together. “How’s your day off going?”

“Human TV is still strange,” Elwain said, turning back toward the screen. “I can’t imagine any humans really behave like this. I have never seen it.”

“No, it’s a soap opera. It’s supposed to be deliberately over-the-top and crazy. That’s why they’re fun to watch.” Elwain rolled his eyes, but there was amusement in his expression.

“Is there anything you want to watch?” he asked.

“No, this is fine.” You settled into the soft cushions, staring at the TV. As much as you were looking in the direction of the TV, most of your attention was focused on Elwain. His gaze kept flicking toward you, as if he was unable to focus on the show either. After a moment, he reached out toward you.

One of his hands settled on your head, the other on your shoulder. Before you realized what had happened, he pushed you so your head was resting in his lap. You stared up at him as he, apparently unconcerned, started weaving his fingers through your hair.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“You did this for me when I first came here,” Elwain said. “It was soothing. I thought you might like it as well.” He paused. “Was I incorrect?”

You considered for a moment. His fingers were still carding through your hair, twining strands around his fingers. “No. I don’t mind.”

Elwain continued to stroke your hair. His nails scratched lightly at your scalp. The feeling of being touched made something tremulous swell in your chest. It was a pleasant feeling, but one so sharp and overwhelming that it almost made you cry.

You lay with Elwain for a while, his hands absently playing with your hair and trailing along your head and neck. He seemed to be paying far more attention to you than to the TV. “You should take better care of yourself,” he said, stroking your bangs back from your forehead. “If you were to die, I would be alone in the mortal world.”

“You’d manage,” you said.

“Perhaps.” Elwain removed his hands from your hair and hesitated for a moment. He seemed to be struggling to speak. Then he sighed. “But I would prefer it if you were with me.”

You looked up at him. He was staring deliberately to one side. There was a faint pinkish color to his cheeks and his eyes were narrowed. “You could have left, once our deal was up. I only asked you to stay with me for the night. And yet, you helped me. There was no reason to. I no longer have my connections or any particular Faerie skills. Even the few powers that remain with me, you don’t like me using. You have gained nothing from this deal and you help me regardless.”

“Of course, I did.” Thinking about that night only brought one image to your mind. Elwain, who had nearly been killed by his own parents, looking lost and confused and abandoned. He had been cocky before, but in that moment, he had just looked forlorn and upset. He had just looked scared. “I wasn’t going to just leave you on your own.”

“You could have,” Elwain pressed on. “Easily, you could have. You could have justified it, even by mortal morals. There’s not a lot here that could kill me. As you have pointed out, I would be fairly fine on my own. But you stayed with me regardless, for no other reason than just helping me.”

“You’d just almost been assassinated. I couldn’t leave you,” you said.

“You could have. But you didn’t. And, at least so far, you have asked for nothing from me in return. To be quite honest, you’ve been almost annoying with how little you allow me to do.”

“I try,” you said. Elwain snorted. It was an inelegant noise, but somehow also incredibly attractive. “Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to explain to you that I care about you. I want you to be well and safe and healthy because you saved me and you didn’t have to and I appreciate it.” Elwain’s cheeks flamed red. “That’s what I’m trying to say.”

You reached up slowly and let your hand cradle the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing. “It’s strange. I’m not used to this,” he said. “My parents loved me as far as they could use me. It’s how Faeries are. But you have used me for nothing, gained precious little advantage from having a Faerie living with you. And I wasn’t used to it. I still think I’m not used to it. But I am so… so… happy. For this. For you.” He blinked his eyes open. They were hazy with emotion. “Thank you.”

It was an impulse maybe you could have resisted if you were feeling better, but you were overwhelmed with feeling and not in the mood to fight with yourself. The hand on his cheek shifted position toward the back of his neck and pulled him down on top of you. His mouth pressed into yours, tense and unyielding, then softening as he realized what was happening.

There was a moment of fumbling, while Elwain registered that you were kissing. You broke away from his mouth, but he was pressing into you again, pulling you close to him and meeting your lips over and over with his own. His tongue brushed your lower lip and his moan sounded against your mouth.

You weren’t aware of how it happened, but suddenly you were lying back on the couch with Elwain on top of you. He was kissing you furiously, his hips flush to yours. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pushing him as close to you as you could get.

One of your gasping breaths caught in your chest, triggering a coughing fit. You rolled over, trying not to cough right into Elwain’s face. He sat back. His lips were already slightly kiss-swollen and he looked a bit rumpled. “Right,” he said, trying to finger-comb his hair back into a presentable state. “You’re still not feeling well.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute, we can keep going,” you said between coughs. Elwain pressed his lips together, but they were twitching toward a smile.

“You are admirably determined, but I think it would be better for you to rest,” he said. There was a pause. Elwain tugged on a few of the longer strands of his hair. “I take that to mean you feel the same way?”

“That I like you? Yeah.” You pulled him down so he was laying across your chest. He looked at you, eyes surprisingly wide and innocent. “When I first met you, I thought you were kind of an asshole. And you are kind of an asshole. But you’re also charming and endearing and you try to follow my rules even when you totally don’t have to. And you’re willing to take care of me when I’m sick.”

“You took care of me when I had lost everything,” Elwain said. “I only wished to return the favor.” His fingers wandered over your stomach, tracing absent patterns on your shirt. You could feel his warmth against your skin. “Usually, that’s how it works, with Faeries. Favors are given because giving means you can get something in return, and you’re always trying to leverage the deal to get more than what you’re giving.” He closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing. “But when I saw you were sick, I wasn’t thinking that I needed to pay you back. I was only thinking that I wanted to help you.”

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “That’s what love is.”

“Mortal love,” he sighed. “I always thought it was flimsy and weak and short-lived.” His eyes opened again and he nestled into you. “It’s much stronger than I thought. So much more than I believed. It almost hurts, but it’s a good hurt.”

You started coughing again. Elwain swung himself up and gathered you into his arms. “I’ll take you back to bed,” he said. “You need to get better. I want to continue this.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead. You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. His heartbeat thudded against you, slow and steady. The feeling of him holding you swelled and ached inside you, a pleasant ache. You clung to him as he eased you into bed and settled in next to you. Your illness was all but forgotten. Everything was soft and pleasant under a heady wave of love.

#exophilia #fae #faerie #fae boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster lover #Fae lover

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retiredteabag · 4 years ago

Text

Valentines Day Special

Just Like The Books

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki X Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: ...

Synopsis: Valentines day was only a few days away and Shoto had not yet asked you to be his valentine!! Were you too romantically inclined from all those books you read or was Shoto just trying to make things extra special?

SPECIAL NOTE: This story is being read aloud by Mad July on youtube!!! The link will be posed here very soon, please give the channel all your love!

Link To Video- Here!!!

Link To Channel- Mad July

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It was less than four days until Valentine’s day and Shoto, Y/n’s boyfriend of a year and a half, had yet to request the spot as their valentine. Pure radio silence on his part. They weren’t worried though. Seriously! Y/n knew Shoto wasn’t the best with romancy stuff- it just didn’t come naturally to him which was fine! Still… everyone in 1A had a valentine. Heck even Mineta had received a love letter! Of course, everyone was painfully aware he had sent it to himself but either way- it was a bit embarrassing- what to have a significant other and them not even ask… whatever- Valentine’s day wasn’t even a big deal anyway!

Despite that- when the little envelope- wax sealed with a fingerprint- showed up in their school bag- they couldn’t help but feel the tiniest bit relieved. The paper was light brown and smelled of burned wax, after struggling for a second to open it without ripping the letter- they read to themselves:

“For every day that passes- I realize how many more I want to spend with you. Is this how Mr. Darcy felt when he was with Elizabeth?”

A smile grew on their face- Having introduced Sho to Pride and Prejudice last summer, it made their heart flutter to hear him bring it up.

“In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’ It must have been…will you accept my confession?”

- Your Secret Admirer

Not only did he remember their infatuation with the book, but he quoted the line too… he was just too cute! They folded the letter and gently put it in the box in which they kept all his letters. Only to promptly pull it out and read it a few more times.

The next day- it seemed Shoto was ignoring them. In class they would turn- only for him to look away. This wasn’t like him, usually he had no trouble staring- in fact, in the past Shoto would stare until Y/n was embarrassed, not realizing how hard it was to have him look so intently.

That night- after a whole day of hiding- it appeared that Shoto had been on their balcony. Strange as it is, there was a very obvious glow of a flashlight outside Y/n’s dorm room. Sat in the middle of the balcony’s ledge was another letter, held down by a small box. Y/n took at least a minute to look at the whole set up. It wasn’t crazy or anything- just a bit cute. The flashlight shown right through their curtain so they could see the display. Eventually they reached for the envelope. Wax sealed with a fingerprint just like it had been before.

“’Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt that the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar; But never doubt I love.’ I remember when you read Hamlet to me- I remember knowing I loved you when I heard the smile in your voice when you read those words. Do you remember? When you quoted them to me while you braided my hair? Do you remember when you leaned over and said them that last day of summer? I hope you do… Because I can’t stop thinking about them.”

- Your Secret Admirer

“Yes” they thought, “Yes, yes of course I do.”

It was a little funny, Sho referring to himself as their “Secret Admirer” when everyone knew they were dating, still- they couldn’t help but find it charming.

By the time they had read the letter for the fourth time- the icy air had chilled their skin considerably. The wind whooshed past their face, but it was hard to leave their spot on the balcony knowing he had been right there. They had already stood before they remembered the box that had been used as a paperweight.

Leaning over to pick it up they ran their hand over the silk exterior. Inside, delicately placed on a velvet stand was a silver ring- a tiny sun on one side and on the other? A tiny moon. It was exactly their ring size and was so beautiful they had half the mind to keep it hidden in a box and not wear it at all. It took a particularly cold gust of wind to bring them back to reality and go inside.

At lunch the next day Y/n sat with Jirou and Kaminari. Food was the last thing on their mind. All their thoughts were occupied with was the fact that Shoto Todoroki had been wearing a ring in class today. A ring that had tiny, engraved stars all over. They couldn’t even thank him because he was gone when class ended. Y/n had even stood quickly and ran after him to try to go looking but he was nowhere to be found.

“Hey- what’s wrong?” Mina stared worriedly. Y/n was sure everyone could tell something was up. It wasn’t the fact that they hadn’t been asked anymore-but that Sho seemed to be avoiding them. They couldn’t answer their friend because suddenly Kaminari jumped upright- startling the whole table. Jirou and the man in question were sharing a look. Jirou looking exasperated and shifted her eyes from the bag hung across his chair- then at Y/n and then back at Kaminari.

“Oh! Oh!!” Kaminari clapped his hands as if remembering something. He bent down and pulled out an enveloped from his bag- it had the tiniest of stems attached- little clusters of baby’s breath had been sealed to the letter. They looked up from their table with Jirou, Kaminari and Mina and watched Deku from across the lunchroom nudge Sho with a worried look. He just took a breath in and stared at his lap- a content smile on his lips.

“Just ask me Sho…” They thought. Maybe this was his way of asking. Previously- whenever Shoto wanted attention- he never asked- he would pull on their sleeve or tug on their belt loop… maybe he didn’t know how to ask. Either way- Y/n wanted to thank him for his gestures- to give him a gift too- even if it wasn’t as nice as what he gave to them.

“If you asked anything of me- I believe my heart always replies- ‘As you wish.’ You read to me all about Buttercup’s requests of Westly- I myself have a request of you if it is not too much. Would you be willing to meet with me at my dorm this evening?”

- Your secret admirer

And when they looked up- Sho was gone from his seat with Deku and Iida.

Tomorrow was Valentines- and y/n had spent so much time worrying whether Todoroki would ask them that they didn’t even have a gift for him. Needless to say- they skipped final period to go out and get something.

That night Y/n was nervous- “Pull yourself together” they told themselves- they’d dated over a year and yet it was still a bit nerve wracking to see him. They didn’t really get all that dressed up- just changed out of their uniform into something comfortable and made their way to Shotos dorm room. They had his gift in a small bag and while they knew he would love anything they gave him- it didn’t feel like enough. Simply him reflecting on the moments they had shared had warmed Y/n’s heart to no end.

Romance novels were sort of a part of their relationship- a little thing Shoto had never experienced before they had the chance to become close. And when y/n heard such a horrible truth? They made it a mission to read to him all their favorite stories.

They twisted their ring and took a deep breath- “It’s just Sho…” they told themselves before they knocked.

Instantly the door swung open- as if Shoto had waited for them to knock- “You’re here” he said softly- his hair was fluffier than normal, spread across his eyes- he had also changed out of his school uniform.

“Yeah” is all they could muster- eyes falling on his expression. He looked so good even when he didn’t mean to.

He slowly took a step forward and tugged on their waistband. Pulling them into his room. It smelled like wood and varnish inside- within the brief second in the room they spotted the books laying on his desk. Pride and Prejudice- Hamlet- and The Princess Bride were all neatly set in a pile next to his laptop- behind those were some other stories y/n had shown him- The Notebook, Anne of Green Gables and The Phantom of The Opera were set on his wall.

He grabbed their face- “Y/n” he cleared his throat-

“I’ve been meaning to ask you- and seeing as- “He pulls his finger from their pants elastic- his hand messily grasped at their sleeve before tightly grasping it and then letting it go. He looked at the clock on the wall and faltered- “seeing as- I have three and a half hours before well- you know- I think its best to ask- the thing? You know- Tomorrow is Valentines day and I was wondering if you wanted to stay- with- stay here… with me- until then. So, we could spend the day together?” Somehow his hand had gone back to their sleeve and was shyly tugging on it.

“Oh right!!” he let go. “What I meant was, would you be my Valentine?”

And the hand holding Shotos gift let go somehow and had pulled him in by his neck.

And you know, it really was just like the books. Time slowed down and it was so warm, and they didn’t want to move- so they didn’t.

They pulled away “Yes, yes that would be just perfect.” And then Shoto pulled them back in again by the shoulders and quietly murmured, “oh thank goodness.”

#my hero academia #baku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #mha x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #todoroki x y/n #bnha shoto todoroki #shoto x y/n #todoroki fluff #bakugou x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #todoroki fanfic #shoto x reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #katsuki x reader

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somanyerikas · 3 years ago

Text

Nostalgia sells - or does it? About BBC’s rehiring of a previous showrunner for Doctor Who as a marketing strategy

All, right, this is the one where I deal with my issues about RTD’s rehiring from the standpoint of BBC’s business strategy . Brace for passive agression, swearwords, brief history of british television and numbers. So, so many numbers.

Allright, so I already wrote a post about my problem with RTD’s (re)hire from the creative standpoint (it’s here in case you’re interested), but hey, I can bitch about it all I want, but we all know what caused the BBC to make this decision, right? You’ve heard about it for sure. The Dropping Ratings. You’ve read about it on so many posts, lots of them probably oh-so-gladly conflating this fact with their own opinion about the deteriorating quality of the show. (Don’t worry, we’ll get to that.) So Obviously the execs at the Big BBC Quarters needed to do something about it, and what better way to go than rehire a guy who’s run at Doctor Who is a warm childhood memory for so many in it’s fanbase? After all, it’s what we’re seeing nowadays: from Star Wars return to wave of 80′s nostalgia to every old blockbuster star doing a comeback, there is but a single conclusion - nostalgia sells.

Or does it?

Part One: Moving with the change; or very much refusing to.

Let’s start this off with some facts about the ratings for Doctor Who. (Well, I warned you there’s gonna be numbers, didn’t I. Stick with me, I’m going somewhere with this I promise.) In it’s beginnings, in the sixties and seventies , the series flown high, averaging a viewership from 8 up to 10 million viewers per season. Collin Baker’s series 17 brought in a record of 11.21 milion viewer asses in front of a good ol’ TV screen, real champagne opener here. But, as it happens, things were downhill from here. During the eighties, the rating started dropping steadily, reaching an all-time low of 4.15 milion couch-warming bottoms in 1989, the last season of the classic era.

Years passed, 16 of those years to be exact, and here comes our saviour RTD. Under his wings, the revived series premiered, bringing in over 10 milion viewers to the premiere episode of season 1, Rose. A viewership this high did not last for long, but still, RTD’s seasons averaged between 7 and 8 milion viewers per season, which seemed pretty respectable. But then, as the story likes to repeat itself, not unlike the bbc execs just did, along came the decline again. Ever since 2010, the ratings began steadily dropping again, from 7.95 in 2010 to 5.46 in 2017. Then DW experienced an unexpected peak in 2018 with the premiere of Jodie Whittaker’s first season, which averaged 7.96 viewing asses, but then continued the dropping trend on the next season, averaging 5.40 viewing butts.

So what went wrong?

You see, part of the reason that Doctor Who was bringing in such great viewership numbers in the 60′s and 70′s, was that, to put it simply, BBC did not have much competition. Or, to be exact, only had one competitor. ITV was literally founded in order to break BBC’s monopoly over British television. But in the 80′s, with the launch of Channel 4 and Sky, the british viewers had more and more options to choose from. So logically speaking, they no longer had to watch BBC’s programming just because there was nothing else on. There was more and more new programes to boredom-watch. And here’s something y’all need to know about the tv industry: the boredom-watchers, the casuals? That’s the most important demographic. As hard as it might be to swallow, us hardcore fans, forum dwellers and Ao3 gremlins, we’re not as big of a group as we’d like to think. Loving fans are important to the tv execs as providers of word-of-mouth advertisment, but the real numbers come from the casual, everyday viewer who will just put on the next episode cause the other one was kinda fun I guess. Or more fun than the other options, anyway.

And this is why, by the way, when someone is conflating low viewership with the show Dissapointing The Fans, they’re full of shit. I’m sorry, but we’re really not that much of a force here, definitely not enough to make such a big impact on the numbers. Another factor, that some of you probably noticed already, is that the numbers I’m quoting are from british tv only, while the online fandom is very much international, so our opinions matter even less to the british execs, I’m sorry again, hard pill to swallow I know, but true nonetheless.

But I digress. So, to sum up the previous paragraph, Doctor Who’s viewership decline in the 80′s was the effect of the changing landscape of the TV industry, with which the BBC struggled to come to terms with.

Sound familiar?

Let’s move on to the 2010′s, shall we?

2010 was is actually a good marker of a year to choose, because it marks one important thing that begun a big change in the industry. This was the year in which Netflix expanded their services overseas, from being a DVD rental company to providing VOD services. Over the next decade streaming services grew in importance, from being an add-on to your cable TV that you didn’t really want but they were throwing it in for cheap, to very much self-sustainable media services you might very well buy instead of buying the cable. And if you look at the numbers for Doctor Who viewership declining over the last 10 years, that’s precisely what’s been happening. It’s not that people don’t want to watch Doctor Who on tv, they don’t want to watch tv in general. Do you know what was the most popular channel in Britain this year? Can you guess? Fucking Netflix that’s what. It’s just slowly-yet-steadily ceasing to be the way we use home entertainment anymore. Again, not much to do with the audience approval, because for that matter, let’s see about the specific episodes that saw the spikes in viewership.

Rose, which i mentioned at the start of it, was for the longest time the unquestionable queen when it comes to viewership, at 10.81 milion. The next episode, The End of the World, pulled in 7.97 - almost 3 millions worth of lost viewer-butts in one week? Is it because it was so much worse than it’s predecessor? No, it simply did not have the smell of Newness, the Event You Must See, and as such brought forth less of the casual viewers who were simply curious about The New Thing. The next season followed the similar formula, peaking at the premiere, when the marketing was at it’s strongest, going down during the season, sometimes rising slightly for the finale, sometimes not. The most popular episodes are, of course, the specials - yet again, the vibe of The Event To Be Seen worked here, but one more thing working to their advantage is they often aired in spaces between seasons, serving as both a long-waited Crumbs of Content for the fans, and the basically stand-alones for the casuals. Do you know what the single most watched episode of revived DW is? No, it’s not Tennant’s goodbye with the role (yeah I know, I thought it had to be that as well). It was Voyage of the Damned, between seasons 3 and 4. The perfect standalone for the casual watcher. And last but not least, you know one more special feature that brought, maybe not as much, but definitely more than expected? The 1996 movie Doctor Who, with 9.08 million. Again, a perfect standalone.

But the standalones aren’t the only way to grab the viewership. The currently-highest viewing non-special episode of DW? The Woman Who Fell to Earth, Jodie Whittaker’s introduction. In 2018 no less, in the year when the streaming was the ruler supreme, this episode brought a whooping 10.96 million buts to the good ol’ TV again. Let me reiterate: this episode brought in more viewers than Rose did in 2005, while having WAY more competition and way less favorable circumstances of release that RTD’s debiut did. Not only that, it managed to bring on some numbers for the entire season as well, not as good of course as the premiere (because again, the Event vibes faded), but still brought a better average than the last six seasons did. (Again, let me reiterate: more than the last SIX seasons. More viewership than any series since 2010, since the Streaming Wars.) So clearly, this must be the way, right? Catering to this Weird New Trend, that saw directors notice there do in fact exist other actors than white men, that surely brought in some profit, even Marvel does it now, right? Out with the old, in with the new!

Part 2 The Deceitful Charm of Nostalgia

Well, it turns out the whole Doing New Things deal didn’t work out that well after all, now did it? The second season penned by Chibbnal averaged 5.40 milion, that’s 2.5 million drop from the previous one! It must mean it didn’t work, right? Well, yes and no. As much as the refreshment of the formula as simple as Let’s Put A Woman In It absolutely worked for one season, it very visibly did not hold up for longer. An Event-Episode is something that can still happen on TV, Event-Series? That’s pretty much reserved for streaming now, if you think about it, and it’s honestly kind of a miracle that Series 11 did as well as it had. Two consecutive Event-Series on network tv? Flat out impossible.

So how to make those ratings great again? How to get those butts in seats of the Good Ol’? Well, the execs of the BBC have a plan for that. They brought in a devouring beast, and it’s name is: Nostalgia.

Without a doubt, there is a number of people who feel nostalgic about RTD’s era of Doctor Who. It’s a lot of people’s fond childhood memory, or the series they started with, and judging by the numbers, there should be quite a lot of them. So the new plan, as it appears, is to get to those who maybe lost interest in the show and lure them with the promise of the thing That Is Totally Like The Thing You Used To Love, Remember? (This is why I don’t actually think that RTD will be allowed to do anything new and interesting, that’s not what they hired him for. And that’s why I think this is bad from the creative standpoint.) So there are two questions here: One, will the people be lured? And two, for how long?

Nostalgia as a marketing strategy is something that you’re probably sick of seeing already (I know I am). But it has very much been effective on many levels, especially the eighties-baiting, Stranger Things style, can bring a new IP up to relevance. But what about old IP’s that want to have a comeback?

It’s kind of dificult to find another TV show that I could compare to Doctor Who. Most series that have been running for that long are mostly soap operas, that operate on slightly different rules, and are also targeted to a different audience. So as much as the movie series is still not exactly the best comparison, when I think about a big IP, campy sci-fi, family-oriented (at least in theory) on its path back to relevance, I think about Star Wars, obviously. The Force Awakens gambled on that nostalgic feeling and won big, but the next two movies, while still financially successful, were nowhere near the astounding success of the first one. And that’s because - you guessed it - it created the Event You Must See again, The Great Comeback, but merely two years later, the comeback became old news. So what we can gain from that is that nostalgia can create an Event as well as a new trend, if not better. But the question remains: how long will that last?

That is, after all, the main difference between a movie franchise and a TV series in the traditional, network TV sense of the word: movie franchise must bring in the viewership every year or two, and TV series must bring in viewers every week for at least two months. Is RTD’s Nostalgia Vibes enough to provide for that?

I’ll say this: I’m absolutely certain that the 60th anniversary will be very popular. I still don’t think it will break any records because, as I’ve been trying to explain for this whole post, it is not 2007 anymore no matter how much the tv execs would like it to be. But ironically, the almost-certain success of the special is the very thing that could undermine the effect of bringing their precious Nostagia Boi back onboard. Remember, the first Event Episode is The Big Oof. That’s the one that gets asses to the Good Ol’, if anything ever does. After the first big event one, that’s the point when things start going down. They’re wasting their Special Event Boi for something that already would be an event, dear fucking gods, I hate your plan and I would still execute it better. Either have RTD be the Anniversary Guy and then hire someone new, use that hype and keep it going, OR have RTD come in after the anniversary, then at least you get the Event Effect for the premiere of his first return season. Fukin’ amateurs.

But even if they did that, here’s the thing: do you think that the people who departed from the show years ago actually want to watch another three to five seasons of The RTD Show? I mean, I’m sure the thought warmed some hearts, for sure. A number of people will definitely gladly watch the anniversary, probably the first few episodes of the first return to the basics, but after that? In the world when, due to streaming, they have an easy way to revisit the actual thing they’re nostalgic towards? I honestly don’t think so. And you’re not really gonna get many new people by going back, if that nostalgia factor isn’t there. And then there’s casual viewers, the backbone, as we established. And here’s the thing: lots of those people don’t even know who the current showrunner is, cause they’re not Terminally Online like we are, and the second thing? Lots of those people ARE JUST NOT WATCHING NETWORK TV, IM SORRY GARRY. They’re just. They’re just not. I don’t know how to spell it out better. Even my mum has netflix now. Your biggest base is in another castle mate, gotta get moving and gotta get moving quick, cause here’s another thing: all the nostalgia in the world will not do SHIT for you if your target, people who were kids/teens when the RTD era was airing, PROBABLY DON’T EVEN HAVE A FUCKING TV ANYMORE CAUSE THEY MOVED OUT OF THEIR PARENTS FLAT AND LOTS OF YOUNG PEOPLE JUST DON’T BOTHER. Just. I’m sorry but you’re trying to resuscitate a decade-deceased corpse there buddy. It just won’t work. The times have changed and you gotta swim or drown, and it’s just not gonna be 2005 again, no matter how hard you pretend it is. It’s not your content it’s your business model. Just push more marketing for your iplayer or whatever, focus on streaming as your primary not your secondary cause that’s just what it is now, and maybe don’t rely on the viewer-counting systems of the yesteryear to evaluate your business. Or else you’re gonna get stuck sacrificing the creative growth of your show for a marketing strategy that probably won’t even fucking WORK.

There, I got it of my chest. Feel free to reblog, and also: you somehow got to the end of this, congrats! I’ll make numbers nerds out of y’all yet.

#it's like. my sister and I were #watching a movie lately. the one with multiple will smiths and the de-aging tech #(don't recommend it it's real boring)#but when Youngened Will Smith appeared on the screen my sister got my spiting my tea laughing by innocently saying:#"oh i don't know this actor. it's nice that they're giving opportunities to the young actors. great to see a new face in the biz''#and u know what #this rehire is the same fucking vibe to me #some cunts from marketing plastering make-up to an old man's face and pretending its 2005 still #anyway #doctor who #i guess.

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jujumin-translates · 3 years ago

Text

Sakuya Sakuma | [SR] Twins • White | MANKAI Channel Filming - Part 2

Part 1 / Part 2

Sakuya: I go to the library often, and nearby the park too… We introduced a lot of different places.

Juza: Yeah, we did.

Sakuya: We’re almost done with filming but… Is there any place you want to go to, Juza-kun?

Juza: …? I’ve got it, Sakuya, come this way.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Juza: Here…

Sakuya: This is the Chinese bun shop that we both introduced as our favorite shop in the Veludo Town magazine.

Sakuya: I was hoping we could come back here together, Juza-kun.

Juza: Same here.

Sakuya: Well then, let me go ask the shop owner’s grandmother if we have permission to film here.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: This is the Chinese bun shop that was previously introduced in the Veludo Town magazine, “VELUDO”.

Sakuya: Juza-kun and I are big fans of the panda buns at this shop.

Juza: This is the panda bun. It’s sweet and has plenty of rice sugar. I recommend it.

Sakuya: Then, I’ll take half of this panda bun… And, let’s eat!

Juza: Yeah, let’s eat.

Sakuya: It’s delicious as always!

Juza: Mmmh, super delicious.

Sakuya: Back when we did the “VELUDO” special feature, we were supposed to introduce our favorite shops and…

Sakuya: Both Juza-kun and I chose to introduce this shop by coincidence.

Juza: I didn’t think we’d choose the same shop… I was pretty surprised at the time.

Sakuya: I was also really surprised! But I was pretty happy too.

Sakuya: This shop not only has the panda buns, but it also has other Chinese buns too. They’re all delicious and I highly recommend them!

Juza: Those were good.

Sakuya: Yep, they were.

Sakuya: Well then, I think this is about the end of the video. Juza-kun, thank you for coming as a guest!

Juza: Yeah, I had fun.

Sakuya: Mhm, me too!

Sakuya: Everyone, did you enjoy today’s city walk? If you’re in the area, please stop by.

Juza: And look forward to the next video too.

Sakuya: Thank you for watching!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Chikage: Well then, it’s time to edit the video Sakuya filmed.

Sakuya: Let’s do our best! Thank you, Director and everyone for helping review the contents of the video.

Tsuzuru: It’s no problem, I really wanted to see what kind of video you filmed, Sakuya.

Itaru: Same here.

Chikage: I’ll go ahead and play it then.

Sakuya: “Hello, all of MANKAI Channel’s viewers!”

Citron: Hello~!

Masumi: Are you going to the fruit sandwich shop first?

Director: That’s the shop Juza-kun was talking about the other day, right?

Sakuya: Yes!

Citron: Oh!? A GOD-za appearance!?

Itaru: Huh, looks like it.

Sakuya: We ran into them by coincidence.

Citron: The picture is shaking very much! Sakuya, were you being a cabbage!? (1)

Chikage: Savage, you mean.

Masumi: Seems like he applauded and it shook.

Sakuya: I’m sorry, I did applaud while holding the camera…

Citron: Chikage, please don’t cut this part, just put a caption here saying Sakuya is being savage!

Tsuzuru: I mean, don’t we need to get permission from GOD-za first?

Director: You’re right, we might need that.

Masumi: It’s a pain to deal with permissions and stuff, so cut it.

Itaru: Maybe just blur out their faces?

Tsuzuru: It’d be weird to blur it…

Director: I’ll quickly call Kamikizaka-san to check with him.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: Kamikizaka-san gave us the okay!

Sakuya: Great! Thank you so much, Director.

Chikage: Roger that. I’ll use this scene as is then.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Chikage: That’s it, reviewing and editing are complete.

Sakuya: Thank you so much, Chikage-san!

Sakuya: And everyone else too, thank you for spending so much time helping me!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: You’re good at filming.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: You’re good at filming.

Itaru: Yeah. Even though you clapped while holding the camera, it’s still something to love and respect. You got good shots of the scenery, the shops, and the food too.

Tsuzuru: Agreed. It was also interesting to discover new things even in places I’m familiar with because I was viewing it through Sakuya’s camera.

Masumi: You filmed a lot of things. I wasn’t half bad.

Sakuya: Wah, really? Thank you so much! Next time, I’ll do my best to show off the charm of a bunch of different places again!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 2: Reviewing it together was fun.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: It was fun to review the video contents together.

Citron: I think so too! It was very exciting to watch the video together!

Chikage: Thanks to everyone’s comments while watching, I was able to decide what to do with the editing and captions.

Sakuya: I had just as much fun watching the video with everyone as I did filming it!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: Overall, it was good to see Sakuya-kun and Juza-kun enjoying themselves and getting along so well, so the video turned out great.

Director: I really wanted to go to the places you introduced.

Sakuya: Thank you so much. Those words mean everything to me! All those places were nice.

Sakuya: Ah, how about next time we go together? I’ll guide you!

Director: Really? Then I’ll have to accept.

Itaru: Eh, with just the Director?

Masumi: I won’t allow you two to go on a city walking date together. I’ll go too.

Sakuya: Of course, everyone can go!

Citron: Yes! A city walk with everyone!

Tsuzuru: Sounds like it’s gonna be quite the lively walk.

Chikage: You’re right about that.

Sakuya: Going on a city walk with the Director and everyone seems like a lot of fun. Let’s go to a lot of places and shops together!

• • •

T/N:

(1) Originally, Citron says “あぶらってる” which means oily/greasy, Chikage corrects him with “荒ぶってる” which means savage/wild. I had Citron say cabbage to try and kinda make it match in English rather than just leaving the literal translation.

#a3!#a3! translation #〚 backstage story #sakuya sakuma #citron #juza hyodo #itaru chigasaki #chikage utsuki #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #// oh god this took way longer than expected i apologize jdhfjds #school decided to nerf me and then i forgot about finishing this #school my detested </3

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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 4 years ago

Note

what about ymir comforting sad reader?🥺

This account has been open for like two weeks and this is the first non-Annie request lmao

Warm

(Ymir x Reader)

AU: Modern

Warnings: None

Category: Fluff, hurt/comfort

Summary: Ymir's s/o is having a bad day, and she notices.

Words: 1.6K

Stepping through the door, you clicked the lock shut behind you, and threw the key in the general direction of the nearest counter.

Tears of frustration pricked at the corners of your eyes, and you bit your bottom lip to prevent them from spilling out. You huffed out an annoyed breath, and stormed off to your bedroom.

Today had been awful. Well, that was a bit of an understatement. You had had a pretty nasty fight with a close friend, and it left you hurting. You would be a liar if you said you weren’t part of the problem as well, but a lot of the things they said had been uncalled for and unnecessarily personal. You needed to take a breather.

Upon entering the room, you stretched your hands over your head to try and relieve some of the tension in your back, and you closed your eyes whilst taking in a deep, long breath.

They opened rather reluctantly, however, as you heard something clatter to the ground right behind you. Turning your head, you saw it was just the bracelet you wore around your left wrist everyday.

You think back to the day you got the bracelet. It was something your girlfriend had gotten you about a year ago, when you had celebrated your first year together. It was simple, just a small gold chain that ran around your wrist, but it had a small heart charm attached to it, and on the back, was a ‘Y’, for her name, followed by a plus sign and then the first letter of your first name. Obviously meant to symbolize the two of you staying together forever, and the idea undeniably made your heart flutter.

You bent over to pick it up, admiring the sentiment behind the jewelry as you slipped it back around your wrist. You went to stand up, but since you weren’t looking where you were going, you hit the top of your head on the corner of your dresser. Hard.

“Ow! Son of a-” Your hands shot up to the top of your head as you stood up and stumbled backwards. Conveniently, you weren’t given much time to scramble around, since the back of your leg hit the side of your bed, and you fell backwards clumsily.

Your back hit the bed sheets with a soft thud, and you groaned and rubbed your head. This day is not getting any better...��You sulked internally.

You sighed, opting to just succumb to the comfort of your bed. Y’know, sleeping the day away doesn’t sound so bad...

You turned over onto your side, and pulled the blanket over your shoulders for warmth, curling up into the fetal position.

But a sudden cold breeze blew into your open window, whisking the blanket off of your shoulders and onto the other side of the room. You shivered at the sudden lack of warmth, and curled further into yourself. You didn’t want to get up and grab the blanket- you didn’t want to get up at all. You just wanted to feel warm.

Thinking about warmth made a certain brunette girl pop into your head. Your girlfriend.

You wished she were here right now. She always had a knack for cheering you up on days like this. She always held you in her arms and reminded you how much she loved you. It made you feel safe, being in her grip. But she had left a few hours ago to run some errand, and one glance at the clock reminded you that she wouldn’t be back for some time.

Or so you thought.

The front door clicked open, and you turned around to look, confused. The only one with a key to your front door was Ymir. Your heart started beating faster, still unsure if it was your lover that had returned or a burglar.

“Hey beautiful!” A voice called from across the dorm. You calmed down at the sound of her soothing voice. You recognized the soothing, somewhat teasing tone that your girlfriend always greeted you with. “The market is closed today for whatever reason, so I’m back a little earlier than expected.”

“Hello, Ymir.” You responded, hearing her footsteps approach the bed. You didn’t turn to look at her at all, still content with being curled up on the side of the bed.

Ymir’s charismatic smile faded into a look of curiosity. It was standard for you two to greet each other with pet names after not seeing the other for a few hours, so calling her by her name instead of something like “darling” or “honey” was a bit strange. Stranger still was the fact that you hadn’t moved from the bed, hugging yourself as you lay folded on the sheets. She looked forward to the usual “I missed you" hug that you gave her every time she returned home to you.

“Is something the matter baby?” You felt the weight of the bed dip on the opposite side as she sat down next to you, setting her large but gentle hand on your shoulder. “You seem pretty out of it.”

You shrugged, exhaling shakily through your teeth as another breeze blew in through the window. Your teeth chattered relentlessly.

She thought about it for a second, before settled herself down next to you. She planted her face on the back of your neck, and her arms slinked around your torso, spooning herself against you. Her strong arms pulled your arms to un-cross themselves, and she grabbed your frigid hands tightly in her own.

Her touch was extremely warming to you. Not only did her body heat stop your shivering within seconds, but it made you feel loved. Ymir was always good at doing that, making sure you understand how special and important you were to her.

“Do you want to talk about it baby?” She muttered, before planting a short, but sweet, kiss to the back of your neck. You felt your heart flutter at the affection, as heat rushed to your cheeks.

You weren’t sure if you were ready to talk about it just yet, though, so you let out a prolonged hum before muttering “Maybe...” You brought up her hand, which was still tangled in yours, and kissed each individual knuckle gently, showing silent affection for the brunette. Although you couldn’t quite see it, you could feel her smile gently against your neck.

Contemplating what she should do to help you out of the little rut you were in right now, she settled on an idea, and got up and off the bed without saying a word.

You perked your head up in confusion, missing not only the body heat she gave off, but the feeling of affection and love that she gave you.

Still, you watched as she bent over and collected the blanket that lay neglected on the floor, and walked back in front of you.

“Ymir? What are you doing?”

She laid the blanket flat on the bed next to you wordlessly, before finally speaking up.

“Lay on your back, on the blanket.” She spoke, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. She doesn’t mean...

Still, you did as she asked, and as soon as you did, she moved her arms underneath the blanket and picked you up bridal style.

Oh.

You wrapped the sides of the blanket overtop of you, and tried to hide your blush from your face as Ymir slowly started walking out of the room with you.

“Hm? Why is your face red, Y/n?” She inquired, teasingly. She knew why, of course, but getting a reaction out of you would be ten times better, she decided.

You didn’t answer, of course, and only hid yourself under the blanket, basically becoming a cocoon in your girlfriend’s arms. She only laughed at you, but it wasn’t a mean-spirited laugh at all- it was a happy laugh. One that you could just feel the love and awe drip from it’s tone.

You felt Ymir finally stop walking, before setting you down on something cushy and comfortable. You poke your head out like a gopher in a prairie and noticed that she set you down on the couch, and was now searching around the TV stand for something. Letting out a small ‘aha’, she picked up the remote she had been looking for, and settled on the couch. She flipped through the channels absentmindedly, before deciding on a channel you were both fond of.

She settled onto the couch, sitting sideways and leaning her back against the armrest. You stared at her for a moment, and it seems your attempts at telepathy were a success, because she gave in, opening her arms wide and allowing you to shuffle up and against her.

You rested your head against her chest, not even pretending to watch whatever was on at the moment. The blanket draped over you, plus the beautiful girl you lay leaning against allowed you to finally relax, feeling your body temperature return to normal, no longer frigid.

The nap you wanted so much earlier threatened to drag you into its clutches, and you neglected to fight it. Ymir noticed your sleepiness, and ran her large, bony hand through your hair in the way that she knew you found soothing. She leaned down to kiss your forehead, and she smirked at the small smile that formed on your lips.

“Goodnight darling.” She said, taking the hand that wasn’t in your hair and slowly running it down your back. She could wait to ask you what was bothering you until after your nap.

You tried to mumble a goodnight, but sleep had taken hold of most of your body, so all coherent speech was lost.

Still, through your muttering, the gentle words “I love you.” managed to slip past your lips.

Ymir smiled, closing her eyes too, deciding that she may as well try to get some rest as well.

“I love you too...”

aaaaaaaaaaa i hate this

It feels a little rushed and not super with the prompt so let me know if you want a redo or something asdflkj;aljgks

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot #snk #aot imagines #snk imagines #ymir #ymir aot #ymir snk #ymir x reader #fluff

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jaskierswolf · 4 years ago

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hi wolfie it is i, the ramen man, i was wondering if you could write a prompt based on a baking competition tv show ? maybe even christmas themed if you want ?? no stress if you can't/don't wanna write it, i love u 🥺

This got... long? So you can also find on AO3

__________

Jaskier wasn’t stressed. He’d made this recipe a thousand times. It was his speciality! No one made better chocolate brownies than he did but his presentation let him down. They were messy, gooey and delicious but this was a competition. They needed to look good too. He whined as he sat in front of his oven. Who made chocolate brownies for a cooking competition? Oh god he was an idiot.

He glanced around the room. Valdo Marx was busy finishing up his winter spiced cake and it smelled absolutely divine; the bastard. Plus he’d brought along some holly sprigs to make the whole thing look a bunch more christmassy. Jaskier had baked some orange slices to decorate his brownies. He also had some edible golden glitter for the top and a few spun sugar decoration for good luck. His secret ingredient though was Cointreau. The orange liqueur kept the brownies extra gooey in the centre without them being too rich.

He stared into the oven, chewing his bottom lip anxiously as he ran a hand through his hair. They were almost done. There was a shiny film over the top that would give the brownies a nice crunch. If he did well with these he would get into the next round; the final round. In that round they hand to create gingerbread houses, well more palaces. They had to absolute architectural masterpieces and he was shitting himself. Like his brownies, his gingerbread tasted amazing but it wasn’t always pretty. They were delicious and wonderful but not much to look at on the surface.

He’d only gotten so far because they tasted good.

“Come on, come on, come on!” He muttered and pressed his face against the glass.

He really needed to at least get to the final. There were smaller cash prizes for all finalists and the publicity from the competition would do wonders for his little bakery.

“How’s it going?” Triss Merigold, one of the presenters asked.

He shrugged. “Not much I can do until it’s finished baking. It always goes much faster when you’re watching this at home.”

Triss laughed. “Clever editing.”

“I just hope I’ve done enough,” he sighed. “Maybe I can charm the judges with my guitar skills instead…”

“Ah yes, they said you play. Is that a hobby?” Triss asked with forced politeness.

Jaskier scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah. Well, I wanted to play as a kid. I was going to be the next John Lennon but you know how it is. My gran taught me how to bake and I became addicted. I still write my own songs for my YouTube channel though.”

“Wow! That’s amazing!” Triss made it sound like the least amazing hobby on the planet.

Luckily the oven timer went off at that moment and Jaskier was able to crack on. He pricked the brownies to make sure they were cooked through before setting it aside to cool. Whilst they were cooling he grabbed his tray of sugar decorations and the orange slicer.

“Bakers! You have five minutes!” Triss called out.

“Oh bollocks!” He groaned. He wasn’t going to have enough time to let it cool before decorating. Luckily the brownies tasted better warm but they were also harder to get out of the tin in one piece. He whined pitifully but dug a knife around the edge of the tin before slicing the brownies into the neatest rectangles he could manage. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The camera man glared at him for swearing but he just stuck his tongue out. He was stressed, he was allowed to fucking swear! They were crumbling in his hands as he moved them to the plates. He cleaned up the crumbs as best as he could before showering them with edible glitter. He arranged the baked orange decorations as best he could so they looked slightly less terrible and then finally delicately placed the spun sugar on the top, only breaking two of the little shits in his hands.

“And stop!” Triss yelled and all the bakers stood back from their stations.

Valdo Marx was smiling smugly. His winter spiced cake looked fucking fantastic. On his other side stood Priscilla. She’d made cupcakes that were elegantly decorated to look like snowflakes, each one slightly different and beautiful. Next to Priscilla was Essi Daven. Her chocolate Yule Log looked amazing, Jaskier almost believed it was a real log.

Oh he was so going out.

He sighed and plastered a fake smile on his face as Yennefer Vengerberg re-entered the room.

“Time’s up bakers. You are apparently the best of the best but only three of you will make the final round. My expectations are high. I’m sure you’ll disappoint.” She smirked at them, violet eyes flashing dangerously. “Sadly, it is not only me that you must impress with these bakes.”

Jaskier felt his eyes widen. Shit, he’d forgotten that they brought in a second judge in this round. The bakers never knew who would be until they were introduced but it was always a famous chef and Jaskier suddenly felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please welcome, my ex-husband… Geralt.”

Jaskier let out a pitiful whimper as Geralt fucking Rivia entered the room. The man was only his celebrity crush. He would be fine. It was going to be fine and holy shit he was even more gorgeous in real life.

Fuck.

“Now, as I am sure you are all away, Geralt and I have never once agreed on anything except our daughter. So this promises to be fun.” Yen drawled sarcastically.

Geralt chuckled and crossed his arms in front on his chest. He was wearing a tight black t-shirt and Jaskier’s entirely life was suddenly just Geralt’s arms.

They were so big.

“That is precisely why I was invited, Yen,” Geralt muttered with a fond smile. “Evens out the vote.”

“My vote is fine on its own.”

“Hmm. We’ll see.”

Jaskier zoned out the rest of the conversation as the other bakers made their way to the front to be judged. He was too entranced by the god stood before him. The long silver hair that was pulled up into a bun, revealing the oh so sexy undercut. Jaskier watched Geralt’s lips part as he tasted one of Priscilla’s cupcakes. He got some frosting stuck on the corner of his lips and Jaskier desperately wanted to help him lick it off, but instead Geralt’s tongue flicked out to catch it. Jaskier was weak.

He zoned back in long enough to notice with great satisfaction that Valdo’s cake was under-baked and a little bit shit, not even holly could save it. So Jaskier was still in with a chance, and then it was his turn. He was hoping the brownies would still be warm. If they’d cooled down too much then his presentation would probably fuck him over.

“Buttercup?” Yennefer raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “If you could stop drooling over my ex for two seconds, tell us about your… brownies?”

Jaskier’s fingers flexed and he tugged nervously at the edge of his shirt. “Ah yes. Umm. Hi,” He stammered and blushed as Geralt winked at him. “Brownies, orange. Chocolate orange brownies,” he swallowed and ran a hand through his hair. “I used dark chocolate mostly but there are chocolate orange chunks in there too, any orange flavoured chocolate is good. Orange zest, orange juice and umm.. oh ah, orange liqueur.”

“Aren’t you concerned the orange will overpower the chocolate?” Yen asked sharply.

Jaskier shrugged. “I make these every year. They sell well at the bakery.”

“Smells good,” Geralt noted.

“The presentation is shocking,” Yennefer countered.

“Yeah,” Jaskier admitted with a sheepish smile “but I can do better. If you give me a chance.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re running out of chances.”

“Yeah but I’m cute.” The words fell from his lips before he could stop them. He clapped his hand over his mouth and blush furiously. “I am so sorry!”

“Hmm.”

“Let’s just taste them shall we?” Yen suggested.

Jaskier nodded, still hiding behind his hands. “Please.” He felt a hand on his shoulder and he yelped.

“Relax, Jaskier,” Geralt murmured in a low voice.

Jaskier’s blush deepened and he smiled up at Geralt. Oh those eyes were like honey, so warm and inviting. There was still a small smudge of frosting on his lips that Jaskier hadn’t noticed before but now he couldn’t stop staring. He wondered if Geralt tasted as sweet as he looked. “Thanks, Geralt.”

“Geralt, stop flirting and taste the freaking brownie.”

“Yes, dear,” Geralt sighed.

Geralt took a bite of his brownie and fucking moaned. A quiet whimper escaped Jaskier’s lips. God he was going to melt on national television but he didn’t care. He’d had a chance to meet his favourite celebrity and Geralt had liked his baking! It was honestly life goals. The only thing he had left to tick off was his wedding to Geralt by the coast. That had always seemed like an unreachable fantasy that helped him sleep at night but now Geralt was right in front of him… it didn’t seem quite so far away.

“Fuck,” Geralt moaned. Jaskier chuckled, that would have to be beeped out in the final cut. “This is amazing!”

Yennefer looked surprised as she tried her own forkful of brownie. “Not bad, buttercup. Not bad at all. It melts in your mouth.”

“And the orange is actually subtler than I expected.” Geralt gave him a fond smile and Jaskier had to remind himself how to breathe.

“Ah, umm. Thanks, Thank you, Geralt.”

“It looks like dirt,” Yennefer said cooly “but it tastes heavenly. Presentation has always been your weakness, Jaskier.”

Jaskier’s eyes widened. Yennefer hadn’t called him ‘Jaskier’ since the first round when Triss had mentioned it was Polish for buttercup. “I know. I know!” He whined.

“If you get through to the final then you will fail miserably unless you can change that,” she added with a raised eyebrow.

“Taste won’t save you, no matter how cute you are,” Geralt smirked.

“I know. Wait hang on what?!” Jaskier stammered at Geralt’s words.

“You did good, buttercup. Well done.” Yennefer said firmly and rolled her eyes. “We’re done here.”

“Thank you, Yennefer, Geralt,” He nodded, definitely not still blushing as his gaze landed back on Geralt. “Thank you.”

____________

Jaskier screamed into the cushions as he threw himself down on the sofa. He’d fucking done it! He was in the final! He’d never imagined in a million years! Not to mention that Geralt Rivia thought he was cute. He wondered if he would be able to get Geralt’s autograph or whether that was just weird considering he was one of the judges.

“Jaskier?”

Jaskier rolled over so he could see Geralt, forgetting that the sofa wasn’t that wide and falling onto the floor. “Oh fuck!”

“Are you alright?” Geralt asked as he came over to help him stand up. Jaskier gripped Geralt’s forearm as he was pulled to his feet.

All other thoughts left his mind as he stared at the muscles in Geralt’s arms.

“Arms…” He blurted out. “I mean! Shit. Umm, oh god.”

Geralt just laughed and steadied him on his feet. “Look, I wanted to ask…. once the show is over and I’m no longer a judge. Did you want to get dinner?”

Jaskier gaped at Geralt. “I’m sorry what?”

“Unless I’ve completely misread the situation. Fuck. Sorry. Look you can say no, I won’t score you worse because of it,” Geralt paled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “We’ll pretend this never happened.”

“No, Geralt wait!” Jaskier grabbed his arm. “Yes, ask me again after the final but yes. Dinner sounds great.”

Geralt smiled faintly and nodded. “Great.”

“Great,” Jaskier repeated. “It’s a date!”

Geralt nodded again. “I have to go. We shouldn’t be seen alone together until after the final.”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.”

“Good luck, Jaskier.”

Jaskier grinned dopily as he watched Geralt walk away. It looked like Christmas magic was a real thing after all. “Yeah, you too.”

Wait. You too? Oh fuck it. _____________ Tag list: @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @victorieschild @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @electricrituals @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier pankratz #triss merigold #modern au #christmas prompt #wolfie's witcher writing #ramenyul #winter prompts

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