#seal it tight

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Hold Me

Sherlock thought his heart broke when his grandmother died. He was wrong. It got a crack, sure, but it was nothing compared to the heartbreak he felt when Victor walked out of his life without any explanation. 

Please, tell me what I’ve done wrong! I can fix this. I promise you. Anything, Victor. Please. Sherlock.

The letter was never answered.

Sherlock wanted to drown himself in the nearest river or rob the medical cabinet in Matron’s office and OD on whichever substances it contained. He never got the chance to do either because Mycroft turned up at Cambridge and took him away to their favourite place in France, their grandmother’s family home. 

After a week of fresh air, delicious food and Mycroft’s advice, Sherlock was able to shut the door to his heart. Infinitely.

“Seal it tight, brother mine. Only then can you be certain to never get hurt again. Sentiment is never an advantage.”

Sherlock was grateful to his brother for the advice. It worked and slowly the thought of Victor and what they had faded, and he was almost successful in deleting it. Almost.

He was always confident when he faced danger and criminals. Every word he spoke was the truth, unless he was lying to get a confession or trick said criminals. But that kind of lie came out easy and confident as well, because it was part of the game. His voice never faltered or showed signs of distress. He was quite certain he would pass a lie detector test if required.

***

It came as a shock to him that lying to Moriarty was futile. When he told the villain that he had no heart and Moriarty contradicted him, Sherlock knew he was beaten. 

John Hamish Watson, who thought himself to be ordinary and unworthy, did something no one had ever accomplished. By being himself, never put off by Sherlock’s odd behaviour, always praising his deductions, protecting him from harm’s way from day one, he’d torn the seal over Sherlock’s heart to shreds. It lay bare for anyone to crush and break, and Moriarty knew. The most dangerous man Sherlock had ever encountered knew his weak point, that he was human and not a stranger to sentiment and love. 

Sherlock could barely breathe after he’d tossed away the bomb jacket John had been wearing. John who’d urged Sherlock to run. John who’d been willing to die so Sherlock could live. 

He tried to stand up, but his feet wouldn’t cooperate, and he sunk to the floor, his head slumped forward. Meeting John’s eyes was out of the question. His own eyes would reveal too much now that he was utterly shaken and out of control.

A sound broke the silence. It was a choked sob. Sherlock realised it came from his own throat and tried to fight his transport to regain his normal superior posture but in vain. He was trembling all over. 

Warm hands on his shoulders startled him and all his defences broke when John spoke.

“Come here,” he said softly and pulled Sherlock to him.

Without hesitating or giving his movements a second thought, Sherlock encircled John’s back with his arms and held on for dear life. He rested his head on John’s shoulder finding comfort in the familiar scent from John’s skin.

“Hold me,” Sherlock whispered almost inaudible. “Please, John.”

And John held him as tight as Sherlock had ever been held. Sweet words were murmured into his hair.

“I’ve got you. Always. Don’t shut me out anymore, Sherlock. Let me love you the way you deserve. Please?”

*** 

Sherlock had thought it would be awkward once they returned to Baker Street, but John was nothing but determined when he’d set his mind to something. John showered first and when Sherlock came out from the bathroom, John was waiting for him and simply took his hand and led him to the bedroom.

Before Sherlock fell asleep in John’s arms, he asked John to promise something.

“Keep my heart safe, John. It won’t survive another break.”

And John, wonderful John, promised. Without blinking or hesitating. 

“I promise, my love. Your heart is safe with me. Always.”

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at @7-percent @ninasnakie @sabsi221b

[mtnikolle]

A Potion for the Ages

For @kakairu-rocks KakaIru Valentine's Week 2024, Day 2 Prompt: Love Potion and @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt "Seal It Tight!"

Fandom: Naruto

Characters: lruka & Naruto

Pairing: lruka/Kakashi (future implied)

Word Count: 1092

It's (relatively) early on a Saturday morning in February when Iruka slips through the door of the Namikaze-Uzumaki household. The weather has been unusually warm for February, and everything outside is slippery from last night's freezing rain.

lruka quietly hangs his jacket (not his parka!) on a hook in the entrance, sets his boots on the mat, steps around Kakashi's backpack, and goes to find Naruto. Minato may or may not be home from work yet, and if he is, he'll be sleeping. Which is why he's here on a Saturday morning instead of his usual Thursday after school. Iruka is both surprised and worried that he doesn't hear Naruto. Naruto is loud at least 90% of the time that he's awake, and at—Iruka pulls his phone out to check—8:30 in the morning, there's no way Naruto isn't up.

Iruka pokes his head into several rooms, none of which hold Naruto, before he finally hears the babbling sound of a Naruto stream of consciousness ramble™️ coming from the kitchen.

lruka steps into the room and, even though Minato and Kushina said he didn't need to come until 9, wishes he'd arrived earlier. The kitchen was, well, not a <i>complete</i> disaster, but not far from it either. There are so many bottles of things from the fridge and cupboards on the countertops that lruka can't help but wonder if they are completely empty. The sink is full of dirty bowls, and there are puddles of… something on the floor and countertops.

Quietly, Iruka greets Naruto, “Hey, kiddo, whatcha up to?”

“Iruka!”

Naruto's whisper is so loud that it might as well be a shout.

"Is your dad home yet?”

“Yeah, he got home an hour ago. And Kakashi, that lazy bum, isn't up yet.”

Iruka snorts. Kakashi isn't remotely lazy, though Iruka understands why Naruto thinks he is.

“Did you have breakfast?”

Naruto grimaces, but nods.

“Dad made <i>so many</i> pancakes for supper last night!” Then he pouts. “We're gonna be stuck eatin’ ‘em ‘til Mom gets home!”

Iruka knows Kushina is gone for the next week, so this is definitely an exaggeration.

“What are you up to, then?”

“A potion to help Kakashi!” he exclaims.

“A potion?”

"Yeah!”

Iruka shushes Naruto before he gets even louder and wakes Minato. Naruto looks contrite for 0.25 seconds, but does continue more quietly.

“Me and Kakashi watched a movie last night—he let me stay up so late, it was awesome!—there was dragons and battles and wizards and witches—”

Iruka lets Naruto’s flood of words continue for a while, but none of them explain the mess in the kitchen or how any of it is supposed to help Kakashi, who is due to roll out of bed and stumble out the door late for work soon.

Eventually, Iruka interrupts, "Naruto. What does any of that have to do with this…?” Iruka gestures to the mess all around them.

“The sword guy had a crush on this sword girl, but she never even <i>noticed</i>, even though he was always talking stupid and turning red and watching her when they weren't fighting zombies!”

Iruka blinks in stunned confusion. Zombies? He thought it was dragons…

“So he went to this guy who made a potion so she would notice him and fall in love with him.”

Naruto sounds completely disgusted as he says those last few words, but he's also still young enough to believe that girls have cooties…

“Kakashi…?” Iruka prompts.

“Right. Mom said he has a crush. But he never does anything about it! Tch, lazy—”

“Naruto,” Iruka interrupts.

“Right. He needs <i>so much help</i>! So I'm making a potion so Kakashi can become awesome and the guy will notice him and fall in love.”

It's moments like this that show how much Naruto now sees Kakashi as his brother, rather than an interloper, because while Naruto’s tone expresses his disgust at the whole concept and how lacking he thinks Kakashi's person is for this, he <i>does</i> genuinely wanted to help. Which is cute, if misguided, but he decides to leave that conversation to Kakashi…

“And how is it going?”

Naruto sags. “Ugh. Not so good.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. We don't have any of the weird stuff the potion guy used, so I've been trying all kinds of stuff.”

That certainly explained all the bottles. Iruka decides to abandon the homework plan that was originally created for the morning and asks, “What can I do to help?”

Naruto actually pauses to think, and Iruka hears the front door close, so Kakashi definitely heard most of that. Iruka smirks as he imagines Kakashi playing along.

“It should be Valentinesy, I guess, maybe...?”

“That's a good idea. Maybe something chocolatey or sweet?”

Naruto's face lights up, “Yeah! And mom said something about being hot, so maybe spicy…?”

Iruka snickered, then sighed.

“Ok, well, we're going to need to clean this up before we can get started.”

Naruto makes a face, but doesn't argue, so Iruka starts putting bottles back in the cupboard, and Naruto grabs a dishcloth to start cleaning the spills.

🍾

Chocolate sauce.

Vanilla.

Honey.

Chili flakes.

Mustard powder.

Cinnamon.

They mix it all together in a clean bowl, and Naruto scoops some out for Iruka to taste. Iruka, having the advantage of knowing what's in it, doesn't grimace or wince once it goes into his mouth. He simply swallows and decides he's lucky that the flavours of the spices haven't had time to develop…

(Afterwards, he also adds some of Minato and Kushina's chocolate whiskey, but Naruto doesn't need to know about that.)

“Let's see if we can find a nice looking container for it, shall we?” lruka gives the concoction his seal of approval.

Before Iruka can stop him, Naruto jumps up, fist in the air, and shouts, “Yes!”

“Shhhh!”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It's your dad you're going to need to apologise to if you wake him up,” is Iruka's stern response.

🍾

Together, they go and look through all of the vases, old perfume bottles, medicine bottles, water bottles, and food storage containers in the house. Nothing is quite good enough for Naruto. Naruto eventually hits the jackpot anyway with a little bottle in the recycling bin. Iruka thinks it was probably a sampler alcohol bottle Kushina brought home from her last business trip. The important thing is that it's cool looking enough for Naruto, and Iruka can wash and sterilise it.

🍾

“Seal it tight! You can give it to Kakashi when he gets home.”

Slyly, “Maybe <i>you</i> should give it to Kakashi instead.”

[renee-writer]

For @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 239. Also for

A prompt I have been wanting to do for awhile.

She doesn't know what woke her. Something deep inside just knew. With a groan, she turns towards her phone to check the time. It is flashing.

“What the…” an emergency broadcast, you know the kind that are always tests. ‘ if this has been an actual emergency type things. This time though - it is flashing one word, again and again, “RUN!”

Her heart starts to thump. Some joke, right? It has to be. Raising on shaky legs, she looks around for a threat. None is detected still that flashing message won't let her just go back to sleep.

She grabs her robe, slipping it and her slippers on. After a second thought, she changes them for her sneakers. ‘Run!’ If she needs to sneakers will be better.

She picks up the heavy flashlight she keeps by her bed, again just in case.

This is insane, she thinks. Still the part of her that keeps track of the oddities of life, it raises the hair on the back of her neck. It knows.

She walks through her house, flipping lights on. Still nothing. That is until she looks out the window. The sheer horror freezes her in place for a moment. Something beyond comprehension, a monstrous presence, is attacking her neighbors. She backs slowly away from the window. 

Run! No! No no no! She isn't going out there!

Her hands are moving before her brain catches up as her fight or flight instincts take over. She closes the curtains, putting down the shades. She bolts the seldom used dead bolt ( it is a safe neighborhood, was). She moves through the house making sure all windows are locked, all doors are secure. 

She finds pieces of wood left over from where she built her own bookshelf. These she criss-crosses over the back and front doors, securing them with the biggest screws she can find. She does the same with the windows.

“Locked in tight.” She realizes she is saying it aloud in a strange monotone. Shock. She is in shock. But maybe just safe from whatever is out there. 

She gathers water and cans of tuna and a few sleeves of crackers She picks up the butcher knife and adds it as well. These she brings into her bathroom. It has no outside windows. Taken the last of her extra wood, she places it over the door, locking herself in. 

Then she waits.

[your-funky-human-companion]

the duality of love

art takes so long and its so tiring but if i dont make art for the rest of my life ill die

[astronnova]

danny phantom cast explorations and thoughts :v

[mimisempai]

Seal it tight

Summary

Not letting anything show, not letting himself go, hiding and locking up what he feels deep down, Aziraphale has known how to do this for millennia. Even when, over the years, a little of what he feels leaks out, he knows better than anyone what to do.

Seal it tight.

Notes

Angsty but as always with a happy ending.

A little premise of my longer project.

Fore the @flashfictionfridayofficial Prompt #239 : Seal it tight

On Ao3

Rating G -  563 words

"It'd be funny if we both got it wrong, eh?"

Crawley looked at him with a slight chuckle and continued, "If I did the good thing and you did the bad one."

Aziraphal couldn't help but join in, finding the idea amusing as well.  

Before he realized what he was doing. 

He was laughing with a demon.

Then he put on a serious expression and protested, "No. It wouldn't be funny at all."

He ignored the slight disappointment on the demon's face.

Yes, like that.

It was too dangerous.

Seal it tight.

**********

"Well, maybe there is something to be said for. Shades of gray." 

He raised his glass to Crowley, who in turn raised his, and they toasted as the demon added, "Well, shades of... dark grey." before taking a sip.

Aziraphale, buoyed by the atmosphere, retorted, "Shades of a very light grey, I'd rather fancy." 

They continued drinking in silence.

The angel cast a few more furtive glances at Crowley, allowing himself a brief moment to soak in the gentle atmosphere.

Before he locked away the feelings that had blossomed inside him that night.

The night that had shown him how risky it was for him and for Crowley.

He couldn't let himself go.

Seal it tight.

Until next time.

**********

I love you. I love you. I love you.

"I forgive you."

Yes, seal it tight.

Crowley backed away, sighed, and as he left, whispered, "Don't bother."

Don't leave me. Come with me. Don't turn your back on me.

Seal it tight.

The closing door didn't slam, but the sound echoed just as loudly in Aziraphale's heart.

He put his trembling hand to his trembling lips.

His whole body was shaking.

Do it again. Come back to me. Don't leave me.

Seal it tight.

He heard the door and turned sharply, hoping, but saw Metatron enter and turned away immediately.

"How did he take it?"

Aziraphale took a deep breath and turned to him with a smile on his face.

Seal it tight.

**********

Standing in front of the elevator, Aziraphale tried to resist the impulse to turn toward Crowley, to run toward Crowley, aware of his presence near the Bentley.

The pressure was so strong that he couldn't hold back a glance, barely turning his head.

He filled his eyes one last time with the vision of the one he loved more than anything in the universe. His heart screamed, but his face showed nothing.

Seal it tight.

Then he took a deep breath, put a fake smile on his lips, and stepped into the elevator.

He kept that smile on his lips as the doors closed on everything that made up the life he loved so much.

Seal it tight.

Just a little longer.

Until the day you won't have to anymore.

**********

"Good morning, Angel."

Aziraphale is jolted from his thoughts by Crowley's still sleepy voice as the demon finally awakens.

Watching him stretch and emerge from his slumber, Aziraphale, still in the recollection of his memories, gently touches his own lips, then begins to smile.

With all his heart.

Without restraint.

No need to seal.

Neither his mouth nor his heart.

He leans into Crowley's face and softly replies, "Good morning, my love." 

Then he closes the distance between them and presses his lips to the demon's in a tender kiss.

His lips on Crowley's.

The only seal that matters.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Growing Love series : (After season 2) 

Part 1 Story 1-99

Part 2 Story 100-?

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

[camarilla-arts]

A stray thought about all the less often used, or concept art only, Mutant Turtles from throughout the TMNT Franchise lead to this AU that haunted my brain for a week. So here's some sketches from a universe where the main cast never existed and yet four turtle siblings still work to save the world.

[mav-the-artist]

"I shall be the instrument of Armageddon."

[imminent-danger-came]

I'm so convinced that LBD's og plan was to use MK (as a battery to power her mech, just like SWK was a battery to power Spider Queen's mech in RoTSQ), and to use MK specifically to undo the memories of the world. Like. It's just lining up

[spinetacks]

help I knocked them over and the case broke open D:

they have been FREED after 15 long years stuck inside there oh no. oh no

[teddybeartoji]

fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa fem!oikawa

[renee-writer]

For @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 239. Also for

A prompt I have been wanting to do for awhile.

She doesn't know what woke her. Something deep inside just knew. With a groan, she turns towards her phone to check the time. It is flashing.

“What the…” an emergency broadcast, you know the kind that are always tests. ‘ if this has been an actual emergency type things. This time though - it is flashing one word, again and again, “RUN!”

Her heart starts to thump. Some joke, right? It has to be. Raising on shaky legs, she looks around for a threat. None is detected still that flashing message won't let her just go back to sleep.

She grabs her robe, slipping it and her slippers on. After a second thought, she changes them for her sneakers. ‘Run!’ If she needs to sneakers will be better.

She picks up the heavy flashlight she keeps by her bed, again just in case.

This is insane, she thinks. Still the part of her that keeps track of the oddities of life, it raises the hair on the back of her neck. It knows.

She walks through her house, flipping lights on. Still nothing. That is until she looks out the window. The sheer horror freezes her in place for a moment. Something beyond comprehension, a monstrous presence, is attacking her neighbors. She backs slowly away from the window. 

Run! No! No no no! She isn't going out there!

Her hands are moving before her brain catches up as her fight or flight instincts take over. She closes the curtains, putting down the shades. She bolts the seldom used dead bolt ( it is a safe neighborhood, was). She moves through the house making sure all windows are locked, all doors are secure. 

She finds pieces of wood left over from where she built her own bookshelf. These she criss-crosses over the back and front doors, securing them with the biggest screws she can find. She does the same with the windows.

“Locked in tight.” She realizes she is saying it aloud in a strange monotone. Shock. She is in shock. But maybe just safe from whatever is out there. 

She gathers water and cans of tuna and a few sleeves of crackers She picks up the butcher knife and adds it as well. These she brings into her bathroom. It has no outside windows. Taken the last of her extra wood, she places it over the door, locking herself in. 

Then she waits.

[fluffmamon]

the great ace attorney x trese crossover

[usagimen]

hc + nightmares

         Sayuri is an oddity when it comes to sleep in general; she is someone that sticks to a strict regime, hence, she does have a set bedtime. Now, does she have nightmares? Yes && no, she is constantly tormented by her past version along with the knowledge the entirety of her bloodline is cursed, deeply. She often regales in the fact she could not save her dearest friend && eventually, after Shibuya, she starts to develop night terrors. Especially when it comes to fire which is an irony as it is one of her symbology of being a scorching flame. She is not someone that will often stress that her sleep is uneasy or she is burdened by the reminders of yesterday, though there are signs.

          The dark hue under her eyes, the exhaustion when she speaks lacking that cunning bite, or she seems somber reflecting over the memories that constantly echo in her mind. She would find it odd for a sorcerer to not be tormented with their own ghost, phantoms, whatever it is that comes for them in the evenings - she is not the exception. Highly private, it’s difficult to tell if she is putting on a front or enduring to not think of it as it will shatter her heart; she cannot stand it. Sayuri is infinitely more fragile than she alludes but carries the weight of each hope on her shoulders despite her own anguish. 

[ashematashe]

No thoughts, head empty, only aerial silk performer Chisaki 🥺

[cappurrccino]

book binding 🤝 3d printing

being the hardest thing in the goddamn world to find information on when it comes to the supplies you need and how to care for/store them