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sunkissed-zegras · 2 months

Note

38. "stay with me, please? i need you tonight. maybe for the rest of my life, if you're generous."

with jamie!

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧 | jd⁹

♡ ─ word count | 1.6k

♡ ─ warnings | hurt/comfort, ANGST!! jamie being an asshole (but it was lowkey justified), mention of his injury/trade :((, thats all!

♡ ─ ev's notes | okay listen i forgot the prompt but the last few paragraphs basically describe what the prompt conveys if that makes sense, i still hope u enjoy it nonnie 😭🩷

Jamie had a pretty hard season, with him moving to Philadelphia unexpectedly and him being injured had really gotten to him. He's spent the last two weeks at home recovering and trying to get better as soon as he could, he wanted to be back on the ice as soon as possible. His injury added another layer of frustration. The pain, both physical and emotional, weighed heavily on him. Hockey had always been his sanctuary, and the forced break on top of the trade felt like the whole universe was against him.

You entered the condo, sighing with exhaustion. The last couple months had been frustrating for you as well, but it didn't even come close to how Jamie was feeling. As you entered the small condo, you heard the shower running and assumed it was Jamie.

You put down everything and began starting on dinner, Jamie probably hadn't eaten anything except breakfast. You were worried for him, more than you could ever express. You'd always had faith in him even in the lowest of the lows but he had never been this low in his entire career. He'd always been a determined person but right now, it really did feel like the odds were stacked up against him.

You wanted to do everything in your power to make him happy again, even if it was for a fleeting moment before the world closing on him again. The smell of a home-cooked meal began to fill the air as you moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables and preparing a comforting dish.

As you worked, your thoughts lingered on Jamie's struggles - the trade, the injury, and the emotional toll it all took on him. You understood the importance of hockey in his life, how it served as a source of purpose. Tonight, you wanted to provide not just a meal but a reminder that he wasn't alone in this struggle, no matter what happens.

As your timer beeped, indicating that dinner was ready, you set the table, adorned with comforting dishes. The shower turned off, and soon Jamie emerged, his weariness evident in his movements. You gave him a warm smile, opening up your arms for a hug.

"I made your favorite,"

He slumped down to your height and embraced you tightly, sighing. You let him hug you before he slipped away from the embrace, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders as he did. The weariness in his pretty eyes spoke volumes, but so did the gratitude for the effort you put into making the evening a little brighter.

"Thank you," Jamie murmured, his voice a mixture of fatigue and appreciation. He walked over to the table and sat down as you brought waters from the fridge before sitting with him.

"How was your day?" You asked gently as you settled into the seat, glancing up to watch him.

"It was fine." He responded shortly as he began eating the food, avoiding your gaze. You knew he didn't want to come off bitter but it stung, you tried your best to not to take it personal. "You?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," you replied with a light chuckle, trying to maintain a casual tone. "Work had its moments, but nothing too exciting. I did manage to catch up with Maya over the phone today, she said she missed us back in California."

You knew you had messed up as you heard Jamie's fork hit the plate, the sound echoing throughout the apartment. Shit, I shouldn't have mentioned California. You looked up and caught his tired gaze as he sighed.

"I'm sorry," you offered softly, regret lacing your words. "I didn't mean to bring up anything that might upset you. It's just habit to share little updates about people we know, you know?"

Jamie took a deep breath, and you could see the effort it took for him to compose himself. "It's okay," he finally replied, though the strain in his voice betrayed the words. "I just... miss the way things used to be."

His vulnerability hung in the air, and you felt a pang of empathy. The unexpected move to Philadelphia had disrupted not only his career but also the familiar life you both had in California. You reached across the table, gently placing your hand over his. "I miss it too, Jamie. But we'll make new memories here. It just takes time."

He sighed and pulled his hand away from yours, your chest squeezing in hurt. He took the fork and continued to eat, choosing to stay silent. You didn't know why he was being so distant, so cold. You hated it but you couldn't resent him for it, you knew it wasn't his fault. That still didn't mean it didn't hurt, though.

The room seemed to shrink with the silence, the only sound was the clinking of cutlery against the plate. The unspoken tension between you and Jamie hung heavy in the air and despite your attempt to offer comfort, he withdrew further into his thoughts. As he continued to eat in silence, you couldn't shake the ache in your chest. The distance, both physical and emotional, left you feeling like a spectator in Jamie's struggle, unable to bridge the gap that seemed to widen with each passing moment.

You had never had this problem with Jamie before, he communicated everything he felt so that it was easier for the both of you so this was new territory. What had changed? Why was he retreating into this new, silent version of himself? The questions lingered, unanswered, amplifying the sense of helplessness.

With a heavy sigh, you set your fork down, the clatter against the plate echoing the unease in the room. "Jamie," you began tentatively, your voice soft but carrying the weight of your concern. "I hate seeing you like this, I just want to help."

Jamie had finally slammed the fork down, looking up at you with agitated playing on his face. "You can't fucking help me, Y/N. Do you get that, is that simple enough for you? I can't breathe around you without you looking at me and trying to analyze it and help me. You look at me like I'm some kind of burden you need to carry, and I'm sick of it."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the raw emotion behind them stinging more than any physical blow. It was a side of Jamie you hadn't encountered before, and the harshness in his tone took you aback. There was silence as you both stared at each other and you saw the regret slowly seep into Jamie's expression.

You took a moment to collect yourself, swallowing the lump in your throat before finally speaking. "I never meant to make you feel like a burden. I just care about you, and seeing you struggle hurts. I thought we could face it together, like we always have."

He lowered his gaze, a visible conflict playing out in his eyes. The regret painted across his face was palpable, and for a moment, it seemed like he was grappling with the weight of his words. "I know I messed up," Jamie finally admitted, his voice softer now, remorse evident. "It's just... everything feels like too much right now, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry, baby."

The pet name rolled off his tongue like honey as he spoke and you could see the old Jamie come back slowly as you gazed at him. You nodded, acknowledging the complexity of the emotions that had fueled his outburst.

"Everything will be easier if you just talk to me, Jamie." You paused, choosing your words carefully. "I want to understand, Jamie. I want to be there for you," you continued, your voice gentle but firm. "We can face whatever it is together. Just talk to me. Please."

He sighed, the conflict in his eyes softening. "I know, Y/N. I just... I'm not used to all of this. The move, the injury, it's like my whole world got turned upside down, and I don't know how to understand it."

You reached across the table, your hand finding his. "We'll figure it out together. You don't have to carry it all on your own. I hate seeing you hurt like this, baby."

He squeezed your hand, the warmth of the gesture was filled with gratitude. "I don't want to push you away, Y/N. I just... I've always been the one who had it all figured out, you know? But this, it's different. It's overwhelming."

"You don't have to have it all figured out, Jamie. We'll navigate through this together. It's okay not to be okay, you don't have to play the part because at the end of the day, you're just human."

He nodded, a mixture of emotions flickering in his eyes. "I'm just scared of losing everything, of losing myself in all of this mess."

The weight of his fears hung in the air, and you leaned in, your thumb gently caressing his hand. "You won't lose yourself, Jamie. I'm here to help you find your way back. We'll take it one step at a time."

For a moment, he hesitated, the weight of vulnerability hanging in the air. Then, slowly, he began to open up. The words spilled out, frustration, fear, and the overwhelming pressure he felt. As he spoke, you listened, offering support.

After the conversation, you laid next to him in the bed, his head laying on your chest. The silence was comfortable as you both began to seep into sleep, enveloped in one another. Your fingers gently traced soothing patterns on his back as you held him close, your presence a reassurance that he wasn't alone ever.

The soft rhythm of his breathing matched the steady beat of your heart, as Jamie shifted slightly, his fingers finding yours in the darkness.

-> make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated! <-

thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#❀ evangeline's 1k celly!!⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚#jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x you #jamie drysdale smut #philadephia flyers #philidelphia flyers #jamie drysdale x y/n #nhl angst #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl players #hockey smut #hockey fic #hockey stuff

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bleucalire · 4 months

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Hello!!! I literally adore your art style! The way you manage to add depth and perspective to your faces without heavy use of facial planes is really impressive because my art looks similar to yours, (but without the depth) but every time I try to use facial planes it just doesn't work with my style. Do you have any art tutorials or pics with guidelines?? and if not would you ever consider making any?

once again LOVE your art your azi and crowley are just ADORABLE!!

thanks!!

Hi !! Thank you for your kind message !!

I’m afraid I don’t have any strict process that i could explain..? Except A LOT of training ? 😭 I can share how I like to train though ! (it’s often warm-ups before starting working)

- Posemaniacs !!!

20min of 45sec-1min poses every morning is a super cool warm-up, and it forces you to be quick and go to the point ! No unnecessary lines ! (Posting my sketches because i often see people who starts using it trying to do super detailed pics, with a lot of lines, and can’t finish their sketches before the time limit. Loose sketches are fine, you want to get the pose, the perspective, the overall volume, not to create a masterpiece. Posemaniacs is super rad because it helps you learn how to draw any pose from any angle. Also they have a bank of hundreds of 3D models with various poses you can move and turn how you like in a 3D space when you want a reference for when you’re drawing !)

- Do studies from animators/series you like !

Sakugabooru is a mine of references for that ! (i do both movement studies and still of frames i find super cool/instructive) Animators try hard to convey the depth/volumes, even on simple designs, so that’s good references (and yes i’m a kameda simp)

- Pictures of real people !/Real people from real life !!

For studying poses, clothes etc ! (Super rough and not detailed sketches like these ↓ help me a lot ! Sports references are cool ! Try to stay concise, not too many details ! It will leave you more time to do even more studies, and it forces you to find the essential points and lines of what you want to draw !)

- Michel Lauricella’s Books !!!

Suuuuper useful !! Also always checking them at work ! (My books are at work so sending my studies as well 🙈)

As for the style, most of the series i work on have a « simple style » (i like it when there’s not too many lines because it’s easier and funnier to animate). So i’m used to it and it’s reflecting on my Azi and Crowley i think ! If you like my style i can recommend you to do studies from Ousama Ranking, Mob Pyscho, Sherlock Hound, Doraemon, The Gutsy Frog, (and many more haha) (also of course 80’s-90’s Aoyama Gosho’s works ! Magic Kaito, Late Yaiba/Early Detective Conan ! The expressions I draw are heaaaavily influenced by it, as it’s the first thing I actively studied)

I hope it gives you ideas to dig when you want to train a bit !

Thank you again for your kind message ! Have a nice day !!

#ask #nice people #art tips #animation #my art #sketches #studies

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whimsiandwild · 5 months

Text

Pairing: Astarion x Female!reader; Former Gortash x Female!reader

Word Count: 1400

Triggers [PLEASE READ]: Mentions of past abuse, panic attacks, PTSD, verbal abuse, implied non-consensual, hurt/comfort, some fluff at the end.

A/N [PLEASE READ]: So, this is coming from a very personal place upon some revelations I've had today. It's heavy so please don't feel obligated to read it. And please, please don't read it if you are triggered by any of the above; I know how hard it is to deal with this stuff on a daily basis and never want to be the cause for anyone. To anyone who does read it, thank you <3

“Tav, are you alrighht? What’s wrong?”

Icy fingers on your shoulder made you jump, grabbing the offending limb and shoving it off. Spinning around, Astarion grabbed the top of your arms to still you. The concern on his face had never been more genuine.

“Darling, are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Your smile didn’t reach your eyes and he frowned, taking your hand in his and linking your fingers as he led the party into Wrym’s Rock. He knew something was wrong, and that it had something to do with the man you’d all been summoned by, he just didn’t know why. Gods, you’d always hoped you’d never have to tell him.

There had been telltale signs that he’d recognised as the two of you grew closer, similar things that occurred in him when a particularly awful memory of Cazador resurfaced. He’d asked about it, but you’d always told him it was nothing. Just a bad memory you didn’t need to dwell on. And you hadn’t, not really. Sure, the trauma attached was still there but you could handle it, you had for years. But then you’d seen him before the fight with Ketheric Thorm. A man you’d hoped to never see again, now being ordained archduke of Baldur’s Gate.

The guards showed you into the ceremony hall, your hand sweating in Astarion’s grip as you began the long walk down the aisle; it felt like a lifetime, a force beyond your control forcing your legs to move. You couldn’t look up, feeling bile rise in your throat as you stared at the carpet. Everything you’d worked so hard to forget was coming back to hit you full force. You wanted to hurl, and cry, and scream, and run away. Mostly, you wanted to hurt him. Hurt him the way he’d constantly hurt you, but you knew that was a line you’d never be able to cross.

“Well, well, well. Look what’s been dragged back into my home.”

Your legs almost gave out beneath you, his voice still as charming and alluring as ever, your free hand clinging to your vampire’s shirt sleeve. Astarion had become more than a little concerned by this point, Lae’zel and Gale flanking the two of you.

“Still as ignorant and disobedient as ever,” he scoffed, and you felt Astarion tense beside you, your grip only tightening in an attempt to keep him by your side. “Look at me when I’m speaking!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, your head snapped up and you were staring into the all too familiar eyes of Enver Gortash. Still handsome as ever, and with that vicious glint in his eyes that always occurred when he looked at you, at his property.

He’d been Enver Flymm when you’d first met him. He hadn’t been the most loving of partner’s, but he showed it… in his own way. Soon, however, he got lost. Then Enver Gortash was born. An abusive tyrant who had put you through hell until you’d finally managed to escape. You could still remember that nigt. The way your wrists had bled as you’d tried desperately to break free of your restraints, the painful swelling around your eye and the deep gashes along your legs. The scars seemed to flame against your skin at the memory.

You couldn’t speak. You couldn’t breathe. Why was breathing so hard? How was everyone so seemingly fine? Astarion was staring at you in bewilderment, worry etched into his furrowed brow. You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t think of the words to convey the fear that was threatening to bubble over any minute and make you run screaming.

“Your manners clearly need improvement,” Gortash sneered, his hard, cold gaze never leaving your cowering figure. “Now, it seems we all have some things to discuss, regarding all this ridiculous Absolute business. However, I have a ceremony to begin. You will stay and watch, won’t you, kitten?”

The use of the old pet name he’d used to degrade you was enough to finally break your resolve. Bursting into tears, the last thing you saw as your companions dragged you away was his smug, arrogant smile.

His hands were everywhere. You tugged at your hands but, as always, the bonds were tight and unbreakable. Panic began to flood your veins as he grabbed at you too tightly, bit too harshly, moved your body too roughly. And there was nothing you could do but lay there and let it happen.

“I don’t see why you’re being so difficult, kitten. You’re normally much more compliant.”

Tears leaked from the corners of your eyes and wet your hair, shaking your head in denial. He was lying, you knew he was, but it still caused the same guilt and shame to flare up it always did. He was always so good at making you believe you were the problem, the one who’d done wrong. He’d done it so many time you almost believed him.

With a sharp tug at both your knees, he spread your legs as wide as he could, the sudden jolt of pain shooting up your thighs making you cry out in agony. One hand freed a leg but you weren’t brave enough to move it back. He used his now free hand to run against your core, smirking as he glanced in satisfaction at the slick on his fingers.

“You filthy little bitch. All this protesting and you’re already dying to have me.”

“Enver,” you begged, your lip trembling as he towered over you suddenly. “Please don’t.”

“Shut up!” he shouted, making you flinch and look away. He gripped your chin and forced your tearful eyes to stare at him. “You’ll take it, and you’ll enjoy it.”

You struggled against him as he lined himself up, screaming as he entered you with no care in the world for your wellbeing…

The screaming got louder and louder to your ears until you realised you’d screamed yourself awake, along with your poor partner. Astarion was bewildered as his hands cupped your wet face in an attempt to calm you. You were panting by the time you’d realised you’d been dreaming, your heart close to breaking out of your chest.

“Darling, what happened? What’s wrong?”

“Oh gods… he…. he-!”

You sobbed into your hands, unable to finish your sentence as he cradled you, embracing you for however long you needed him to. Eventually your tears stopped falling, though the ache in your chest wouldn’t fade, no matter how hard you tried to rid yourself of it.

Astarion was more quiet and patient than you’d ever remembered seeing him. He was clearly deep in thought, and you didn’t want to disturb him. Instead, you wrapped yourself around him and enveloped yourself in every aspect that was him. He was your safe space, and you needed to relish in that right now.

“I have to ask, darling,” he said quietly after a long while. “This Gortash,” He all but spat the word. “Did he… did he treat you as Cazador treated me?”

Nodding, you buried your face into his chest as his grip on you tightened. You were relieved he hadn’t asked you to elaborate; you didn’t think you’d ever be able to speak out loud the horrendous things that man had done.

“Tav, please know this, and know it to be true,” His fingers tilted your chin so you were gazing into his liquid crimson eyes. “If he comes near you again, if he merely looks at you, I will rip him to pieces, revive him, and do it all over again. You never need to tell me details; I’m sure I can understand well enough; but know I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you like that ever again. I… I love you, darling.”

Breaking down, you let him hold you for the rest of the night, your head on his chest as he comforted you with words of love and soft touches. Sniffing, you dried your face, and sat up on your elbows, staring down at him.

“I… thank you, Astarion,” you whispered, pressing a hard kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

He said nothing, just flashing you that charming smile of his before he pulled you back to him, holding onto you like his livelihood may depend on it. You stayed like this for as long as time would allow, and you’d never felt safer.

#TW: ABUSE #CW:ABUSE #PLEASE READ TRIGGERS #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #enver gortash #lord gortash #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #gortash x reader #gortash x tav #gortash x you

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slothgiirl · 2 years

Text

an understanding

morpheus x reader. 5k. no use of y/n. yearning. the only thing i know about video game development comes from mythic quest. dont feed ducks bread (its bad for them) morpheus.

“You know feeding ducks bread is bad for them right,” you pointedly tell the stranger in black. The man was wearing 30 layers of black under the midday sun. You had no clue how he could bear wearing a wool coat in this heat. Sweat was already gathering around your forehead and you were in a gauzy shirt.

“Oh.” His voice was deep, an alluring quality that would’ve made him a perfect audiobook narrator. He doesn’t look up, still hunched over his loaf of french bread: the good kind that was made fresh in store at some local bakery.

“Mind if I sit here?” You didn’t want to sit on the grass. Lugging a towel on top of your laptop and bag was bad enough so you were really hoping for a bench, even one with no shade. It was just too nice of a day to spend working indoors.

He doesn’t respond. Tearing another piece of bread, he pops it into his mouth, finally looking up, looking out at the park contemplatively.

You decide that it’s okay. He didn’t say no.

He was obviously incredibly awkward or maybe didn’t get out much judging by his pasty skin. It was rather unfortunate too. Now that you’d gotten a good look at him he was cute in a way that would’ve thrilled you at twelve when you were wearing studded belts and obsessed with Mary Shelley and Trent Reznor. His hair was a hopeless mess: it’s color so black it seemed to destroy any sunlight that shone on him.

Too bad he was about as interesting as a pet rock.

Even the beta testers who were chronically online, still figuring out women at the ripe old age of twenty six (which you understood as your dating life was no better and all your hopes rested on Hinge) were livelier to talk to.

You were probably being too hard on him, you thought as you opened up the company issue computer. It was the fancy type that bent completely backwards. There were so many dialogue trees to work through. So many paths.

Sitting cross legged on the bench, you get back to work and try not to think about the man on the other end of the bench.

He managed to make eating bread an incredibly depressing act; gaunt as he was, with a forlorn expression in his clear blue eyes.

Clearly the guy was going through something.

Refocusing on your work, you turn up the screen brightness and pull up your saved files for Project: Dracul City.

There were notes.

Bottle: get sent to old lady Constancia and gain +1 luck token

Newspaper: uncover school turned shelter LORE

Right.

“Thirsty now, are we dearie,” you utter under your breath. You worked best like this, saying the lines out loud. At the office, no one batted an eye, but you’d gotten plenty of looks at cafes.

No. That was too fairytale-esque. This was more survival horror. The words rich and velvet were also on the moodboard.

“A bottle of wine to soften the blow eh?” You frowned. It sounded too young, too flirty. Old Lady Constancia ran a black market shop in the game.

“Well then, a bit of liquor for the road? Better than anything in the tavern.”

Again, it was wrong. The wrong feel for the setting.

“No need to ask how your night is going then.” There. You grin a little, reading over the dialogue tree that led here, skimming over Lady Constancia’s lines. There’d be no voice actors for this so the diction would have a lot to convey.

“What.”

“Huh,” you look up from your screen. You’d completely forgotten you were sharing the bench, speaking too loudly.

“You were saying.” The man looks over at you for the first time. His gaze is no longer distant as he studies you. It was obvious you held his full attention in spite of how cold his demeanor was.

“Nothing,” you laugh nervously, “I just-it’s something I do while working. Say what I’m writing to see if it makes sense. It’s a really good trick for dialogue. Sometimes what sounds good in my head sounds really awful to my ears. It was advice I got years ago in school. Really fucking helpful though.”

“You are a writer?”

“Ha, I wish,” you scrunch your nose feeling yourself blush. “Well, sometimes. I don’t know. I always wanted to work in video games and thought writing for them would be cool. And yeah, every now and then I think I’ve got a novel in me but I like my job. Sure-I’m not lead in anything yet but it’s fun to flesh out these characters and help build a world where people can escape into. Just look at early fallout, Kentucky Route Zero’s a really good one. . .” Your own sincerity embarrassed you. “I know,” you look down at your screen, the blinking | waiting for your next words, “most people play to blow things up and kill lines of code but, I really do think it means something to people. Give them a world to play in, create, dream. . .yeah.” God you rambling so bad. “I can stop if it bothers you?”

There’s the slightest hint of interest in the subtle relaxation of his expression, “Not at all,” he replies, putting aside the bread he had left, “There is nothing frivolous in striving to inspire people.”

His words catch you off guard. He’d been so distant before, you were expecting a brush off. “Well maybe this line won’t impact someone but you never know what characters players latch onto.” Mariska Lutz’s tapes haunted you for months after playing Bioshock for the first time.

The man does not reply again, watching the ducks hop into the murky water.

You return to your work, making an effort to keep your mumblings quiet.

It’s not until the battery low notification pops up on your screen that you look up again, shutting your laptop and stretching your legs out. Your left foot tingles hellishly, having fallen asleep.

You look over, only to find that the man had left without a word, without making a sound. It was unsurprising. When you worked you got tunnel vision. That was the reason your pot of pinto beans had burned before. No enfrijoladas for you that day.

Well, he had certainly been a character.

*****

You escape a hectic office where you’d spent the past week during crunch time as the demo went live, a short teaser of the gameplay for corporate who would never even play the game but wanted to see evidence that money would be made when the game released in time for October aka when everyone would be over school and the spooky month would fit the game’s design. You’d brought a tote bag with your lunch and snacks from the office. Nothing hit the same as lays with salsa valentina though you would like to know who kept using your bottle. You’d labelled it. As a last resort you’d taken to stashing it in your desk when you knew you’d be working from home.

July.

Kids were chasing the poor ducks back into the pond. A woman in leopard print roller skates took on hills like a pro.

You liked the warmth of sunlight on your skin.

You still wore sunscreen though.

It’s Thursday but the park is packed. You try to look for any spot that has some shade, an open seat so you can enjoy a hard earned lunch. Your fingers have cramped from all the typing you’ve done in the last few days. You haven’t checked in the mirror but you feel like roadkill.

It was about three in the morning when you’d started using eye drops to keep going, but the meeting was happening. You’d done everything you could for your team.

No luck.

The moms were out in full force today, phone in hand as their kids ran wild.

Then-

You spot the same man from your last visit to this particular park. He looks the same, only his coat is longer. It was like he was trying to get heat stroke.

Well, the trick to adulthood was just going for it. Sharing a bench wasn’t the end of the world.

You walk over.

“Hello again,” you wave, “mind if I sit here?” You could always keep looking. There was plenty of time before you had to rush back to work.

“No.”

You plop down, leaving space for not only Jesus but all his homeboys too. “Thanks. I feel like everyone keeps having the same idea as me, but I guess it’s summer and unless you take the ferry west we don’t have the best beaches.” You open the bag of chips and liberally pour salsa on them, “want one?”

You hold out the bag, offering up your snacks to the man. He seemed less morose than last time, but was for sure managing to sulk under clear skies.

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Instead he reaches into a white paper bag and slowly grabs a pinchful of birdseed to toss over to the ducks.

You’re left holding the bag of chips long enough for it to be awkward before you shrug and dig in, sucking the salt and salsa from your fingertips.

This is why you’ll never have a flat stomach. Five minute abs workouts from tiktok were not enough and you sure as hell were not giving up gansitos. There were some in your freezer waiting alongside a pint of ben and jerry’s.

“You got birdseed,” you note, amused. He had been listening to you. A thrill of excitement bubbles up in your chest.

He nods, the motion small.

Your companion was not an expressive man.

“No fat pigeons,” he states neutrally.

You’re puzzled but shrug it off. “I’ve heard you can feed them oatmeal. But I’d probably double check that.”

Finishing your tiny chip back, you fold it up neatly into a square and pop it back into your tote bag until you can toss it into the trash. Your actual lunch was a cold tomato and fresh mozzarella pasta.

Nothing exciting.

You’d been at the office for practically a week, only going home to have a quick shower and pick up food. You were overtired. Food was fuel. You’d treat yourself tomorrow to breakfast at your favorite cafe.

You idly eat as people bike by.

It could use some more sauce.

Your melancolic acquaintance continues to feed the ducks, lost in his own thoughts.

You stab a grape tomato, deciding to make conversation because what was there to lose. “I didn’t catch your name last time.” Last time, ha. You were really going on like there would be a next time. What was the chance you’d see him again? There’d been students in your same major you’d never shared a class with.

The question hangs in the air.

You chew the tomato, the juice spilling out into your mouth. It was tart.

You didn’t think he’d reply and were already considering fleeing. You could finish eating at your desk.

“Morpheus.”

“Morpheus,” you repeat so you don’t forget, “like the Greek god of sleep?” At least, you think he was the Greek god of sleep. It had been a while, he might have been a mythic hero.

“Of dreams,” he pauses, turning to you, his clear eyes peering into yours intensely, “and sleep. Yes.”

It’s only polite to introduce yourself properly now. You wipe the corners of your mouth clean and reply, “Nice to meet you Morpheus,” feeling silly and giddy (flip flopping between the two similar states) as you give him your name.

Blandly he states, “We have met before.” But with his attention on you, you catch the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The corners of his small mouth twitch in the ghost of a smile.

“All the same,” you beam at Morpheus, and finish your long lunch in quiet companionship.

*****

When you’re exhausted, you don’t even dream. Depending on whatever game you are working on, there’s weeks when you’re so mentally drained that you don’t even get under the covers before you’re out like a light.

You’re pretty sure this is a dream. Your mind rested enough to dream.

It’s usually in the middle of the dream, in the middle of the scenery changing from a party in your grandmother’s house where a bird offers you a peach to you sitting on a trampoline that you remember from summer days at your childhood friend’s house before the trampoline broke and sent you both to the ER where you only had scratches only your friend isn’t there but a programer from your internship and hey maybe this was sign from your subconsciousness that you should text her-

You let out a breath.

The sky turns pink.

Yup, this was a dream.

You lean into it, letting it happen around you, letting your mind wander as the trampoline bounces lightly with Nina’s movements. It jolts your body, your brain swings around in your skull pleasantly like being in those massage chairs.

A breeze runs over your cheeks.

You look at the blue of the trampoline border. Blue like the waters in instagram pictures. Blue-

The black trampoline washes away into dark waves and your favorite aunt lays in an innertube sipping on a cocktail, “I’m really glad we came to Hawai’i.”

“Me too. Though I’m still waiting to see a mermaid.”

“It’s great. I’m glad Lady Gaga approved the highway from San Diego to Hawai’i.”

“And we got to see those sea dragons!”

“Exactly!”

You feel something by your leg and stick your head underwater. The water is so clear, you can see everything around you, including the dolphins swimming around you, leading you somewhere. Minecraft dolphins. You grab onto it’s fin, wondering where they want to lead you. Atlantis? Too see a mermaid.

From under the water you tell your aunt, “I’ll be right back!”

“Yeah-”

And your alarm goes off. Your dream rapidly fades as you wipe the sleep from your eyes and blindly grasp around your nightstand for your phone. “Shut up!” The alarm was so annoying. Shrill ringing in your ears when all you wanted to do was go back to sleep.

You send Nina a heart emoji on discord, followed by let’s grab some shaved ice.

Then, you flop back on your bed and doom scroll for a few minutes before you have to sign in on Slack.

*****

It becomes a habit.

Even as the weather takes a turn as fall sets in, you try and make it out to the park once a week, and without fail Morpheus is there. He’s not always feeding the ducks. But he’s always there and always leaves without saying a word.

You’re not offended when he barely acknowledges your wave as you sit down next to him. That was just what he was like. Morpheus suffered from perpetual resting bitch face because of his pouty mouth. You’d yet to see him smile.

It didn’t matter. You liked his presence. You enjoyed having company as you got fresh air.

He listened but rarely had much of a reply.

“It’s nice to go into the office and touch base with the other writers,” you muse, sipping at your drink, “make sure everything is coherent and I guess it helps to talk to people who are also living with this whole world in their head. It helps. The entire story’s been fleshed out by James, our lead.” You let the words hang in the air. Working from home was nice too. It lets you wake up at noon and crawl down the rabbit hole of your own imagination until three in the morning.

Morpheus’ tilts towards you as he continues to watch the wind sweep through the trees. A trio of teenage girls had brought an entire charcuterie board and flowers for their park day.

“Not to mention James does have to sign off on my work. I’m still pretty low on the totem pole.” This was your first full time gig out of school. Not an internship with terrible pay and long hours or freelance, but an honest to god full time job with benefits and pay that meant you could finally rent your own studio apartment. “Do you game?”

“No.”

You glance at him in profile. He remained as pale as the first time you’d seen him, but the gauntness in his cheeks had receded. There’s lines under his eyes that led you to believe he was closer to forty than your late twenties, closing in on the big 30. The Cut loved to post how everything changed at thirty.

“It’s fun. I didn’t really get into them until high school but that was only because my parents bought into the whole video games cause violence schtick but like, I wanted to play pokemon not Call of Duty, at least when I was nine.” You smile, thinking back on fond memories, “then I started going over to Michael’s house after school and we’d play Zelda and Fallout. His parents were complete nerds who knew Klingon so they were cool about us playing whatever they were also playing.” Your parents would not have approved of Left 4 Dead.

“I will take your word for it,” Morpheus tells you, sitting back against the bench.

You sip your tea. It’s still warm enough that the ice is melting away, watering down the taro flavor. “Or you could come over sometime and play Stardew Valley?” You pick a tree and stare at it. You were nervous about his reaction. But it had been weeks. At some point you had to make plans and grab a burger or a drink. That’s just what friends did and if you left it up to Morpheus it would probably take a year. That’s all. It had nothing to do with how your heart sped up the moment you spotted his familiar head of hair in the park. It had nothing to do with the anticipation that had you smiling like a fool on Wednesdays when you routinely went to the park.

He doesn’t respond, his expression dour.

After a beat of silence, you find it within yourself to look at him.

Morpheus meets your searching gaze with his own. You could see the emotions playing out in his blue eyes, but you could not read them. Like the eyes of a bird of prey, you could see the intelligence, the life and consciousness within, but lacked the ability to understand them the way you could read other people.

The corners of his mouth lift, his smile a precious thing you couldn’t turn away if you wanted to. “Perhaps,” he allows. “Once the image of an avenging Mina Harker fills the minds of dreamers around the world.”

Smiling softly you reply, “Only if it’s successful.” You could never be sure with indie games.

“It will be,” Morpheus states.

“I try not to focus too hard on what happens after it’s released and out of my hands. What will be will be.”

He nods.

You finish your tea.

It was a lovely day. The August sun was not so harsh after four. There were less people as families planned for a return to school. The tourists stopped visiting the Northwest in droves.

And maybe Morpheus would come over.

That was more than you’d had yesterday.

You could even show him the demo of-

You bite your lip, trying to think if you had let anything slip about Project: Dracul City. Developing games came with a strict gag order. Nothing could leak before it’s time, not the gameplay or plot or any of the concept art. Usually, you were pretty good about keeping quiet.

Surely you hadn’t told him.

And yet he’d known.

You frown.

“Do you wish to feed the ducks as well?”

His words break your line of thought. You hadn’t even noticed the crinkling sound of the paper bag as he opened the birdseed up.

“These ducks must be the most spoiled in all the public parks,” you muse, smiling at Morpheus before grabbing a handful of feed and tossing it lightly into the grass.

It was exciting to see the ducks and birds come over. The shyer animals waited to see if it was safe. They all had their own personalities.

You’re not bothered by his lack of response, the conversation stilling. You’d grown to like his taciturn ways. It gave what he did say more weight. He wore black like a uniform and over the course of the weeks in which you had been meeting up with him (undiscussed by either of you) he had become beautiful in your eyes. You wanted to run your fingers through his unkempt hair. You wanted to steal away his smiles for yourself: to know you could make such a dour man smile because he couldn’t help himself around you.

You reach for more birdseed only to find that Morpheus had left.

Figures.

*****

Unsuccessfully, you try to wipe away the number written on the cup of hot apple cider, otherwise known as the perfect fall drink as the leaves grew into vibrant array of reds and oranges with the change in seasons as the days grew cold.

The cashier had been nice, but you were only interested in one man.

The sharpie doesn’t budge at all.

You give up trying to get the sharpie off when you spot Morpheus. “Hey I got you a drink since it’s starting to get cold out.” It wasn’t coat season for you yet, but you’d started wearing a sweater while running all over town.

You hold out one of the cups, the one without the number scribbled on it.

His eyes widen, pink lips parting in surprise. But he makes no move to reach for the cup you’re offering.

“It’s apple cider,” you tack on, “warm you right up.”

He blinks.

You roll your eyes, “just take it and say thank you.”

It works. Morpheus nods, taking the cup from you, his fingers cool when they brush against your skin. “This was not necessary.”

“I know,” you say, plopping down next to him. “But I wanted to.”

“Thank you,” he inclines his head toward you. The sincerity in his voice is clear as a bell.

Heat blooms on your cheeks. “You're welcome.” Again, you smile at him as you take a sip of your cup, “I can’t wait until the street vendors start having roasted chestnuts.”

“You enjoy winter.”

“Yeah. Some of it,” you laugh, “The snow can get annoying at times but more and more I find myself taking the time to enjoy the little things. It’s not like I’m working towards getting into college, getting a degree or anything anymore. I’m just enjoying life, yeah?” You flush. In your head it sounded wise, but out loud you just sounded naive.

“My sister shares your thoughts.”

You arch a brow, “you have a sister! Older or younger?”

With a slight smile, Morpheus answers, “older.” He must be fond of her.

“Well she’s right. It’s hard at first. I’d pick up flowers for myself and then think about what a waste of money they were but why not. I like having flowers. Or I’d make up excuses not to go out with my coworkers to stay in but if you do that enough times they’ll stop inviting you and you fall into a rut and that’s no way to live. And some people are so different outside of work.” The older you get, the easier being content becomes.

Stop and smell the roses indeed.

Then you ask him, deviating from your unspoken plans, “do you want to walk around?”

“If you wish to.”

“I do, but we don’t have to.”

Morpheus stands, and you take that for the answer that it is.

******

The grass tickles your calves as you wander through the meadow. The sun paints the sky in hues of orange as it sinks below the treeline.

It’s lucky it’s not raining.

On your first trip to this national park, it had rained the entire time. Not surprising. Rain was a constant companion in this city, but it was more than worth it when you got this lovely meadow all to yourself. Wildflowers were sprinkled throughout the grass.

You’d always wanted to come back, splurge on the fancy lodge instead of being in a tent and hoping the rain wouldn’t get through the plastic. Plans to come-

You blink, looking around slowly.

Was this a dream?

You try to string your thoughts together: trying to remember how you got here. It was fall. Not spring. It’s hard, your brain feels like it's sinking into a thick comforter, the way it always feels when you’re on the border of deep sleep.

Taking in the scenery, the solace, you let your train of thought dissolve and you give into the nonsensical logic of dreams, letting yourself fall back into deep sleep.

It’s lovely.

You sit down in the grass as the leaves take flight, butterflies in the air twirling in constellations before settling back down in the branches. These trees were unmatched by anything you’d seen before. It only made you wish to see more, go to more places.

“You are fond of the natural world.”

Turning, you find Morpheus sitting next to you. His long coat is no longer black but a starry night. Stars twinkle in the depth of the fabric as you take him in with wide eyes.

“Morpheus,” you’re delighted to see him.

And because this is a dream, you don’t hesitate to reach out, crossing boundaries without a thought, you brush your fingers over his shoulder, half expecting your hand to go right through and slide into an abyss of night. That doesn’t happen.

Sheepishly, you meet his gaze.

His eyes are black unfathomless pits with a sole pinprick of light for a pupil. At this, you draw back.

Morpheus says nothing, regarding you carefully.

You blink.

And when you can bear to meet his waiting gaze again, his eyes are clear as ever. It must have been a trick of the light.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” you note lamely. The national park wasn’t exactly close.

“I have business to contend with,” Morpheus replies, which leaves you with more questions than answers. You didn’t even know what he did for work. “We will not be able to meet in the Waking world for some time.”

“Oh,” you answer, crushed. It was ridiculous to feel so intensely about someone who was the equivalent of a classroom friend. You didn’t even have his number. Lin, your coworker, would call that a red flag.

His words sink in and, “the waking world?” Now you’re just confused.

His brow furrows with concern. “We are in The Dreaming.”

“I don’t understand.”

Morpheus frowns. “This a dream, your dream.” The sky goes periwinkle as snow starts falling. “And I am King of Dreams, Ruler of the Nightmare Realms.”

“Oh,” you go, “should I bow or something?”

Your words elicit a rare smile from the dour man.

It made your smile grow, to know that you had made him smile.

“There is no need,” the small smile stays on his pink lips.

“No off with her head” you joke, accepting dream logic and not questioning it as you quote the Queen of Hearts.

Morpheus frowns. “I would not be so crude.”

“Oh so I should be worried,” you wiggle your brows.

“Not of me.” He utters softly, his eyes become glassy. “Not while you are under my protection.” Morpheus reaches for you. The back of his hand ghosts over your cheek.

You lean into his touch without a thought.

You meet his gaze unabashed.

He blinks slowly, peering at you through dark lashes. There was a sedate romance to him that the Brontë sisters could only dream of.

“I cannot stay,” he confesses with remorse.

“You did say you had stuff to do.”

“I do.”

His hand is soft against your cheek. Neither of you move, resting in the moment, holding the pause for as long as possible.

Morpheus draws away, standing. Snow falls around you but the temperature remains pleasant. Snowflakes fall on your arms and do not melt.

You stand.

It’s the awkward point where you’re waiting for him to leave but don’t want him to leave and he’s dragging it out too. You’ve been through this plenty of times on friends' doorsteps as you chat and say goodbye and wait.

He stuffs his hands in his coat. It touches the ground, melting away the snow around the hem with its soft red flames, more ember than anything.

Morpheus makes no move to leave.

You wait, taking in the sight of him. Snowflakes fall in his unbrushed hair.

“Here,” Morpheus draws something from his pocket.

“Oh.”

He drops it in your outstretched palm without ceremony. Morpheus looks away as you study the object.

It’s a necklace. The chain is simple gold. It’s the pendant that catches your eye.

Encased in glass are grains of sand. They swirl inside the glass on their own.

“Thank you,” you look over at him.

Morpheus nods slightly. “It allows you to enter The Dreaming at will.”

“A standing invitation then,” you wink.

“Yes.” He has a talent for filling words with a weight beyond their common vernacular. Morpheus’ gaze is heavy on you.

You can’t parse out why this is so important, but it obviously is for him.

You unlock the clasp, wrapping the chain around your neck. With your fingertips, you try to lock it. The clasp is impossible when you cannot see it.

The hairs at your nape get in the way.

“Allow me.” Morphues closes the distance between you.

“Yeah, that would be great.”

He takes the chain from you, his fingers brushing against the back of your neck. He works swiftly, making quick work of it.

The pendant hangs in the middle of your chest.

Your heartbeat is hummingbird quick.

Morpheus’s breath tickles your nape.

You don’t dare move, fearing this is all a dream that will end if you do anything.

“I shall be expecting you.”

“I’ll be sure not to disappoint. Though it’s about to be crunch time and I’m not looking forward to-”

His actions cut you off.

Morpheus leans forward, his lips brushing against your neck chastely.

You draw in a breath.

The moment is over in the blink of an eye.

Something witty, sure to ruin the moment, is on the tip of your tongue as you turn, looking over your shoulder. But he’s gone.

****

The sand continues to swirl, defying gravity inside the pendant, when you wake.

You play with it as you scroll through files, read through work emails, and desperately try to recall the details of your dream.

You’ve never been more excited to sleep in your life.

#morpheus x reader #morpheus x you #morpheus x y/n #dream of the endless x reader #the sandman #an understanding #lmao i love miscommunication as a trope #to morpheus: he explained what he is perfectly #meanwhile readers like: idk whats going on but im into it #unedited as usual

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clonehub · 2 years

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i fucking love Andor. not a single bad performance, there was so much layering into the first interaction between cassian and the corporate guards--the fact that there even IS a corporation that has its own town, that owns basically everything, that runs the streets, that is being hired by the empire for security purposes. the fact that most of the members of this corporation are white British men (thank you for that disney).

When those guards said "Did you swim over here?" I didn't miss the metaphor for racism in that--asking an immigrant how they got here, assuming they did so through extreme and illegal means. They're basically cops harassing anyone they don't think belongs in their city (Cassian got attention first at the brothel and neither of thse guards was able to let that go). Even Cassian being described as having "dark" features (with so many of these guards, I feel, having blue eyes and lighter hair). This happens in real life and it hurt to see that happen to Cassian.

The acting was incredible on all fronts. I don't remember his name, but the corpo cop who pushes so hard to do the investigation, to go all in on innocent people that he thinks are beneath him--people that are largely people of color? He performed beautifully. Perfect levels of overeager too-strict stick up the ass newbie hoping to get a pat on the head mixed with baby fascist. You'd look at him and 100% expect to go all in if he thinks it's his duty (until, of course, his bullheadedness gets people killed).

(that conversation between him and the higher up telling him to lie? golden. i also loved maarva and cassian's argument.)

Diego Luna was wonderful, and even the side characters were amazing.

The writers didn't hold anyone's hand by having characters explain all their thoughts and why they're doing what they're doing. they code oppression and the need to hide very well in people's dialogue. From the corpo wannabe and his CO talking about how to cover up the death of two guards to cassian and....basically everyone in his town conveying as much information as possible in as normal-sounding dialogue as possible. A necessary skill for people under the thumb of the empire.

(god, I loved the dialogue I really did)

I liked that even with the village children not speaking Basic/English, you could clearly tell what was being communicated. They had enough group behavior and body language to let me know basically exactly what everyone was saying.

The soundtrack? Beautiful. The opening and ending themes are amazing, and the closing scene of episode 3 almost had me pressing my face into the screen (I love that the emblem at the top of the screen in the opening so much resembles a planet being backlit by the sun at first. i noticed just how little sunlight there is throughout the series until the very end).

Andor is such a mature show and I think that ability to go deeper, to have this ambiguity with characters--having the protagonist be as dishonest and slippery as he is, showing these adults trying to manage relationships/sex lives with each other and in some ways that short sightedness causing problems for them--is what allowed it to flourish. They don't shy away from the results of an explosion (not that it's gorey--but how often do people get hit and you hear their comrades calling for a medic?)

#ch posts #andor #andor spoilers #im gonna lose it this is so????#the DIALOGUEEEE AAHAHHHHHHH

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cnnmairoll · 8 months

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hello! i'm the anon that requested for the the moles' beloved miss hehe - just wanted to say that IT WAS ADORABLE AF <3 loved the domestic and homey feeling of the whole fic <33 read your other works and WOHHH I LOVE YOU AS I WRITER <3

if i may, may i request a hurt-comfort for dan heng and luka (separate hehe) ? like, they notice that their s.o, the reader, has become more distant towards them and their shared friend group (the express crew for dan heng, and maybe wildfire for luka). they check on the reader but they just get "i'm okay" as a response. one day, though, they get a letter from the reader, thinking it's the usual love letter that they give, but it's actually a letter of the reader expressing their feelings of being left out, not being enough, and all - kinda like "i know you guys accept me, but i find it hard to accept myself." happy ending ofc hehe

i'm so sorry that the prompt was so long whahsha have a great day/night, as always! <33

A Letter of Words I Can't Convey

Character(s) : Luka, Dan Heng Genre : Comfort, Fluff a/n : glad u liked the fic anon :thumbsup: here ya go

Luka had noticed the change in you for weeks now. It wasn't like you to withdraw from the wildfire, your close-knit group of friends that included Luka himself. At first, he thought it was just a phase, a rough patch, but as days turned into weeks, he grew increasingly worried. You had become distant, your smiles less frequent, and your laughter absent from their gatherings.

One evening, after practice at the underground boxing ring, Luka decided he couldn't ignore it any longer. He approached you cautiously, his robotic right arm glinting in the dim light of the gym. You were leaning against the wall, seemingly lost in thought. He cleared his throat, trying to hide his concern.

"Hey there," Luka began, his voice gentle. "You've been… different lately. Is everything okay?"

You glanced up at him, and for a moment, it seemed like you would open up. But instead, you managed a weak smile and replied, "I'm okay, Luka, really. Just going through some stuff, you know?"

He didn't want to push you, but he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to it. Luka nodded and patted your shoulder. "Alright, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me, right?"

You nodded, and that was the end of the conversation. Luka walked away, his heart heavy with worry, but he trusted you to reach out when you were ready.

Days turned into weeks, and your distance only seemed to grow. Luka missed your laughter, your warmth, and your presence in their group. He found himself lying awake at night, wondering what had changed between you two.

Then, one day, he received a letter. At first, he thought it was one of your usual love letters. You had a habit of slipping little notes and sweet messages into his jacket pocket. But as he unfolded the paper, his heart sank. It wasn't a love letter; it was a heartfelt confession of your feelings.

Luka,

I hope you're doing well. I know I've been distant lately, and I'm sorry for that. I want you to know that it's not because of anything you've done. It's me. I've been feeling like I don't belong, like I'm not enough for the wildfire. I know you all accept me, but I find it hard to accept myself. I've been struggling with these thoughts, and it's been tearing me apart.

I hope you can understand. I just needed to get this off my chest.

- [Your Name]

Reading your words, Luka's heart ached. He realized that he had been so focused on trying to make you open up that he had missed how much pain you were in. Without wasting another moment, he set out to find you.

It wasn't easy, but after asking around, he discovered you were at your favorite quiet spot in the park. He spotted you sitting alone on a bench, staring off into the distance. Luka took a deep breath, feeling a mix of emotions - concern, determination, and love.

Approaching you, he said softly, "Hey there, I got your letter."

You looked up in surprise, and there was a flicker of vulnerability in your eyes before you looked away. "Oh, I didn't expect you to find me so quickly."

Luka sat down beside you and gently turned your face to meet his gaze. "You're not alone in this, you know. We all care about you, and I care about you. Your feelings matter."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you finally let them fall. "I just… I feel like such a burden, Luka."

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. "You're not a burden. You're a part of our wildfire family, and we stick together through thick and thin. And I'm here for you, no matter what."

You clung to him, your shoulders shaking with sobs. Luka held you close, offering you a safe haven to release all the pent-up emotions you had been carrying. As the tears subsided, he whispered soothing words of comfort and reassurance.

"We all have our struggles, and it's okay to ask for help," Luka said softly. "You don't have to go through this alone. We're here to support you, and we'll get through this together."

In that moment, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and a glimmer of hope flickered within you. Luka's unwavering support and understanding gave you the strength to face your inner demons. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but with him by your side and the wildfire behind you, you had a fighting chance.

As the sun began to set, you and Luka remained on that bench, talking and sharing your deepest fears and insecurities. It was the first step toward healing, and together, you would overcome the darkness that had threatened to engulf you. In Luka's embrace, you found solace and the reassurance that you were, indeed, enough.

It had been weeks since you'd last spent quality time with Dan Heng and the rest of the Astral Express crew. Something had shifted, something you couldn't quite put your finger on, and it left you feeling distant, isolated, and overwhelmed by a constant sense of inadequacy. Your once lively presence within the group had turned into an invisible shadow, always there but seldom noticed.

Dan Heng had noticed the change in your behavior, how you'd become distant from the Astral Express crew, including him. He had always respected your privacy and your need for space, but this was different. It was as if you were slowly retreating into your own world, leaving him feeling helpless and concerned.

One evening, as the crew gathered in the common area for their usual card game, Dan Heng noticed your absence once again. He sighed, unable to ignore the growing concern that gnawed at him. With a subtle glance toward the others, he excused himself and made his way to your cabin.

His knock on your door was soft, almost hesitant. He waited for a moment, and just as he was about to turn away, the door cracked open, revealing your face, tinged with surprise. You'd clearly not expected him.

"Dan Heng," you greeted, your voice a shadow of its former warmth.

"May I come in?" he asked, his blue eyes searching your face for answers.

You hesitated but then stepped aside, allowing him to enter your dimly lit cabin. It was a small, cozy space, filled with books and trinkets from your travels. He admired it briefly before focusing on you.

You looked down, avoiding his gaze. "What brings you here?"

Dan Heng took a deep breath, unsure of how to broach the subject. He knew he had to tread carefully. "I've noticed you've been distant lately. We all have. Is everything okay?"

You turned away, your fingers nervously fidgeting with a book on your shelf. "I'm okay. Really."

But he wasn't convinced. He knew there was something deeper bothering you. He couldn't bear to see you like this, shutting everyone out.

He couldn't stand the thought of you struggling alone, and yet, he understood that pushing you for answers wouldn't help. Instead, he decided to give you the time and space you seemed to need, hoping that you would come to him when you were ready.

Weeks passed, and every day felt like an eternity for Dan Heng. He missed the times when you were both alone, your conversations filled with laughter and affection. He yearned for those moments but was willing to wait for you to reach out.

Then, one day, it happened. A small envelope slid under his cabin door, catching his attention. He picked it up, expecting another one of the love letters you often left for him. But when he opened it, his heart sank as he read the words on the paper.

Dan Heng,

I hope this letter finds you well. I know that lately, I've been distant from the crew, and it's been hard for me to explain why. I've been struggling with some things, things I never thought I'd admit even to myself.

You see, despite all the love and acceptance I feel from all of you, I can't help but feel like I don't quite fit in, like I'm not good enough to be part of this incredible group. I know you guys accept me, but I find it incredibly difficult to accept myself.

I've been battling these feelings in silence, and I'm sorry for shutting you all out. It's not because I don't trust you or care about you—it's because I've been struggling to understand my own emotions.

I'm writing this letter because I needed you to know what's been going on inside my head, even if I'm not ready to talk about it in person just yet. I want you to know that I treasure the moments we've shared, and your presence means the world to me. But sometimes, I need to figure things out on my own, and I hope you can understand that.

Thank you for being patient with me, Dan Heng. You mean more to me than I can express in words.

- [Your Name]

Without a moment's hesitation, he left his cabin and made his way to yours. His knock on your door was gentle, a silent plea for you to open up to him. When you did, he saw the surprise in your eyes, but there was also a hint of relief, as if you had been waiting for him.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him enter. He took a seat on your bed, and you followed suit. There was a moment of silence, neither of you knowing where to begin.

"I got your letter," he finally said, his tone gentle and understanding. "I want you to know that I'm here for you, no matter what. You don't have to go through this alone."

You met his gaze, your eyes reflecting a mix of emotions, from vulnerability to gratitude. "I… I didn't know how to talk about it," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Dan Heng reached out and took your hand in his, offering you a reassuring squeeze. "You don't have to explain everything right now," he said. "But I want you to know that you are enough, just the way you are. We all care about you deeply, and I care about you deeply."

Tears welled up in your eyes, and this time, you didn't hold them back. You let them fall, letting go of the pent-up emotions that had been tormenting you for so long. Dan Heng pulled you into a warm embrace, holding you close as you cried.

As the tears subsided, you found comfort in his presence, in the fact that he hadn't pushed you for answers but had simply been there for you when you needed him the most. He may not have all the solutions, but he had his unwavering support and affection to offer, and that was enough to start healing the wounds that had been plaguing your heart.

In the quiet of your cabin, beneath the soft glow of the astral stars outside your window, Dan Heng and you began a journey of rediscovery and healing. He continued to listen, to be there for you, and to assure you that you were valued and loved just as you were.

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soursvgar · 1 year

Note

hii !! i have been absolutely obsessed with your writing every since i found your blog 💖 the way you write each character is just oshshqjs SO good (especially lucifer!!i see him as a hard character to write but yours is just *CHEFSKISS*)

if its okay i would like to request the brothers reacting to an mc who strongly reeks of their sin, i would like to think that the brothers sense their sin on humans so them coming across of one who is just bathing in it would be interesting, whether mc acts on it or not its up to 💖💖

The brothers with MC that matches their sin ♡

A/N: thank you so very much, this is a huge compliment 🥺 this is actually such an incredible prompt and i love this idea so much, it was challenging but really fun! i really hope i managed to convey your intentions with this request ;v;

Pairing: demon brothers x gender neutral reader

Warnings: Since this inherently revolve around the topic of sin there are some warnings, so please read at your own discretion! (food mentions and implied ED to some level in beel's part, as well as insecurity and mental health themes in general, also just basically demons being demons?)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Lucifer ━ ෆ

Pride is the sin used to weaponize the devil himself, a deceitful perception of the self that led to the downfall of many━ but not yours. Adversative to the concept of humility, you exult in your achievements and flaunt your success; you've always believed that preeminence should be celebrated. Needless to say, you did not draw the same praise from others, judging you as arrogant and vain. Thus, a new beginning in a new place was exactly right for you. But what happens when two entities harboring hubris are put together?

The moment you walk in, Lucifer has you all figured out, or so he believes, at least. Your conceit is so prominent it tugs on every cell in his body. But to his dismay, the act you put among demons is the antithesis to the image you exude. You portray a clean, humble image of an innocent human, ready to cleanse a rotten world. He will force it out of you, though, there is no need to be modest, not with him. And it will be exceptional, a beautiful display of your sin.

"There's nothing more attractive than a corrupted soul." He exclaims when he finally earns a scarce chance to be alone with you, signaling you to join him on the couch. "Us demons..." He trails off, eyes skimming over your features. "We can't resist the temptation to taint a pure soul, but when we sense a human with a sin already ingrained in them, it's even more impossible to defy our instincts." Explaining, he pulls you closer by your collar when you take your seat next to him. "Will you be good and start acting upon yours━ or shall I say, mine? Or do I have to provoke you to do so?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Mammon ━ ෆ

For anyone who is familiar with you, or even just spent a couple minutes in your company, it is clear that you are ambitious, and always strive for the most. You need to present yourself in the best luxurious brands, you absolutely have to acquire the most advanced, cutting-edge technology, and you would never be caught with a cheap knock off of anything, down to the smallest, most mundane items. Throughout your entire life you had been insatiable, forever on the pursuit for the next big thing; careers, relationships, you always desired something better than what you already had, which was going pretty badly for you. That is, until you reached the devildom.

When Mammon meets you it’s like he finally finds his partner in crime. It's your visuals that speak to him first, your glamorous attire was the first piece to a puzzle that piqued his curiosity. However, it's only when he delves deeper, picking your brain during your time spent together, that he realizes how deep the sin runs within you. But is it morally wrong to feed into that sin? Will he break some kind of a promise to Lucifer or Diavolo for tainting your delicate soul if he only fosters an already existent feature? And is he even a demon if he wouldn't at least try?

"Oy." He calls out to you from the further corner of the room. "I'm about to sneak out and hit the casino, do ya wanna- like, y'know, join maybe? First few rounds are on me- unless ya end up losing." He examines your body language as you listen intently, and by the looks of it, it tells him that it's game on.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Leviathan ━ ෆ

Veiled under the surface, lies a thin layer of covetousness under your compliments. It's not that you are unable to genuinely flatter, it's just that you are certain it is your wishes that should be coming true, your efforts coming to fruition, not others'. It had been a bad habit that you were unable to shake, forever to be concealed in the depths of your wishful, jealous heart. Unless?

When you first arrived, Leviathan was unfazed; you were just another human, a species he was well acquainted with, and found pretty boring - faultless, innocent normies with their rules and integrity. Once he makes the effort to step out of his room and actually meet you, though, something immediately clicks in him, you are different. Leviathan sees through you, your sin glows in his eyes, responding to his presence as it engulfs you in its aura. He had never perceived a human beautiful before, not until he senses the envy waiting to ooze out of you, and he can't wait to release it, wanting to see your malice shine in its full glory.

"Hey best friend." Leviathan grins at you, hand delicately caressing your cheek as he speaks, his tone soft and mellow. "Remember when I beat you in your favorite game? Over and over again? And completely crushed you? Aren't I so good at it?" He merely laughs as your face flushes, enjoying the anger visibly seething within you at his attempts to make you act out on your envy. Strangely, you didn't mind, and you have never felt more validated in your life. No one in the human world prepares you that being in love with a demon means they absolutely bask in anything you ever viewed as your shortcomings.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Satan ━ ෆ

You didn't want to call it anger issues, but everyone else did. In your opinion, it was everybody else's problem for trying you. You were aware that your patience has its limits, and said limits are plainly easy to cross; it doesn't take much to provoke you and your reactions are far from being controlled and passive. You choose to live by it, though, as your wrath is a beast even you couldn't tame, and you wonder if anyone out there were to prevail it.

He wants you as his project. Satan mentally exclaims. His own little feisty human who's troubled with the burden of a short fuse and fails to command it, just like he used to be. Teaching you to contain and channel your power is an achievement he'll be able to brag upon, something within his department, that only he can master, and Lucifer could never. Except, he did not expect the outcome - Satan finds himself fascinated by you, your reasonings, and most of all, the passion that fuels your intense emotions. Without realizing, his plan backfires as he ends up wanting more of your fire, more of your ferocity, becoming a little too tangled up in enabling your wrath, and reviving his own in the process.

"I said I don't have it!" Your brows furrow, shooting daggers at the blonde. "It's alright if you took it, just let me know next ti-" His expression is calm, even condescending while he accuses you in vain. "I didn't take it!!" You don't allow him to complete his sentence, your nerves quickly getting the best of you as your voice is raised by a couple octaves. Satan smirks, he knows you didn't take his belongings, but he also know you're one popped vein away from turning the situation into a steamy, temper filled makeout session.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Asmodeus ━ ෆ

Viewing the world through a pink lens, you were one infatuation away from losing your mind. No one could quite understand your deep attachments, or support your confidence; perhaps it was all because you are the one putting the emphasis on your wrong attributes. There is no doubt that you are breathtakingly beautiful, and people notice it from a mile away, letting you have your way with them whichever form you like. But then, why do you constantly feel so empty?

There is no way a human can be this beautiful, maybe- even more than himself? No, this can't be, can it? Asmodeus finds himself in a state of consternation. He resents it at first, he used to be the one drawing everyone's attention with his unimaginable beauty; it's not until your eyes finally meet that he's struck with the same bewilderment. But something seems off about this human, do they seem... sad? For some reason, it cheers him up. Maybe it's because it makes you more approachable, or maybe it's because he finally meets someone who shares a similar problem, one that no one else can see past the initial vibrant attitude. No one, but Asmodeus.

"Do you like this outfit on me?" Patting out your clothes, you bashfully seek for Asmodeus' approval. "Sweetheart, with your gorgeous face you would look good wearing even a potato sack." His eyes soften as he scans your roseate cheeks. "You do look good in it though, but... you know that that's not where your charm lie, right?" He frowns when your eyes widen with surprise, are you truly not aware of your good measures? Because they are so obvious to him.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Beelzebub ━ ෆ

Food is among life's greatest pleasures - satisfying, comforting and delicious. You label yourself a curious connoisseur, admiring the different stages your food goes through before ending on your plate, tingling your tastebuds. You truly love, appreciate, and cherish the different types of cuisines in the world, however, society viewed your food adoration as disgraceful, consequently causing you to suppress a meaningful chunk of your personality for the sake of acceptance.

Beel is desensitized to the inkling that washes over him when he initially sees you. He's used to receiving this warm, familiar feeling from food all the time, so he's mostly indifferent to it, and didn't realize it's actually you emitting it this time. He only pays mind to it when the family sits down together for your first dinner with them - inquisitive, you eye the diverse food on the plate, only to reject it with a smile. Cocking an eyebrow at the sight, Beel is wondering who in their right mind would refuse a devildom delicacy.

Later that evening, a knock on your door breaks the silence settled in your new room. You allow the visitor in, watching as Beel steps in with a loaded tray, filled to the brim with a variety of snacks. "You didn't have anything at dinner, so I wanted to introduce you to some other local treats, maybe there's something in here that would fit your taste?" He explains, placing the platter on your desk. "Thank you Beel, but I'm not really hungry." You inform, but the latter won't budge. "Well, I'm staying here until you try at least some of them, so take your time. I have no other place to be at for awhile." Your heart flutter at the gesture. Maybe in this new world you no longer have to hide who you are, at least not with Beelzebub.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

ෆ ━ Belphegor ━ ෆ

On any day, you would take staying home with a good book or a movie over going out. Leaving your safe haven often feels like a chore, and the older you became, the rarer it was to find the time for these moments of solace. Nothing beats the comfort of staying in bed for you, cuddled in a duvet and left to your lonesome. But people continually take it the wrong way, deeming you apathic and careless for not wanting to engage in the same tiresome activities they enjoy. Life in the human world is not easy for a domestic being, and surrounded by all the wrong ones, you find yourself pondering if like-minded people even exist.

Belphegor has months of making up to do when he's finally (properly) introduced to you. His sentiment with you was way too damaged to even acknowledge the fact his sin was practically covering every inch of your existence, something he usually would sniff from miles away. It took a bit of warming up from your side as he patiently waited for you to set the pace, but when you finally agree to nap with him one afternoon━ nose buried in your soft locks━ he ultimately detects the reason he feels so in tune with you.

"Who is it?" Belphegor peeks over your shoulder as your phone lights up with a text message. "It's Asmo, he wants me to go window shopping with him." You sigh, your finger hover over the keys, contemplating your reply. Belphegor puts an end to your turmoil by taking the device from your hands and clicking it shut. "There, problem solved. Now come back to bed, it's cold without you by my side." He smiles, pulling you closer by your arms. "You're a bad influence, Belphie." You shake your head, but he just shrugs in response. "You can call it that, but I just know what you want."

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios #obey me imagines #obey me headcanons #omswd #obey me mc

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mimisempai · 6 months

Text

Little notes of happiness

Summary

When Crowley wakes up that morning, it's not an angel beside him, but a small note written in his handwriting.

It's just the first in a little game Aziraphale has orchestrated to make sure his demon doesn't get bored without him.

Notes

I wasn't at all prepared for the story to go this way, and I hope you'll enjoy it.

Day 18 : Love notes

On Ao3

Rating G - 1564 words

As Crowley finally awoke, turning and blinking, he became aware of three things. The first was the absence of a warm body beside him, the second was the morning light streaming in through the open window, and the third was a small note on Aziraphale's pillow.

His mind still a little foggy from sleep, he grabbed the note and read what was written on it.

Crowley,

In case you forgot, I'll be away with the Bentley all day.

I'll be back this afternoon.

Keep an eye on the bookshop.

Love.

Aziraphale.

Now that he was awake, the demon remembered why Aziraphale had left. The angel had said that he had to visit several booksellers in the countryside. Since he'd complained several times about having to take the train, Crowley had suggested he take the Bentley. He would have gone with him, but he had a session at the planetarium himself. And while it was still a little hard to let him have the car, Crowley had to admit that the angel was taking good care of it.

Even though his session at the planetarium was much later in the morning, Crowley decided to get up. After dressing, he made his way downstairs and, passing the shelf of photos taken by Muriel, stopped to look at them and noticed two new ones.

He didn't know when, but the curious little bee had managed to take his picture during a session at the planetarium.

He couldn't help but smile at how enthusiastic he looked as he pointed up at the artificial sky.

But the second photo made him smile even more.

Muriel had managed to capture them both, Aziraphale drawing Crowley asleep on the sofa. He ran his finger gently over the photo, a little touched by the sense of domesticity it conveyed.

The little bee really had an eye for capturing moments like that.

Perhaps they could help them explore that talent.

When he reached the horse statuette on which his glasses were perched, he saw another note and chuckled softly as he read it.

When you go to Nina's for coffee, bring me some pastries.

But suddenly he stopped snickering, because this time the angel had signed with a heart! With a heart!

Who did he think Crowley was?

Though he was grumbling, the demon's cheeks were slightly pink as he tucked the little note into his pocket with the first one he'd found on the pillow.

Aziraphale often left him a note when he rose before him, and Crowley knew exactly why. The angel was well aware of his slight concern about the time Aziraphale was about to leave with Metatron, and even though that fear had faded from Crowley's heart, he still appreciated the little tradition that had taken root.

Although the angel seemed to have been zealous today in leaving him more than one. Which, if the demon was honest with himself, he didn't mind.

Crowley put on his glasses and left the bookshop to go to Nina's, returning a few moments later with a coffee and a plate of pastries.

He placed the plate on Aziraphale's desk and when he sat down on the sofa, he saw the newspaper there. He sat down, took a sip of coffee and opened the paper, from which fell another small note.

He picked it up and read it.

It's today's paper.

So you have something to do if you get bored without me, my dear.

Crowley shook his head and smiled. He didn't know what had gone through his angel's mind this morning, but now Crowley couldn't help but wonder if Aziraphale had left such little notes elsewhere.

Looking at the time on the old clock, he thought it might be something to discover after his session at the planetarium.

The little note joined the first two in his pocket, and he flipped through the paper while sipping his coffee until it was time to leave for the planetarium.

For the first time since he'd decided to take this little job at the planetarium, Crowley had found it hard to concentrate. He kept thinking about the little notes and had reached into his pocket several times to touch them.

When the session was over, he left the planetarium in a hurry and walked through the door of the bookshop a few moments later. He placed his glasses carelessly in the usual place and began to search.

It didn't take him long to find another little note lying on one of his plants, and he eagerly grabbed it.

I'm so proud of you. Despite the little stain on one of its leaves, you've been good to this plant.

PS: Don't roll your eyes, I know you're kind.

Crowley grumbled, "Angel...that's a low blow."

Which didn't stop the fourth note from joining the first ones in his pocket.

The demon continued to browse the shelves of the bookshop when his gaze suddenly fell on a book whose modern cover stood out among the ancient volumes. He pulled it out and saw that it was a book about the most beautiful beaches in the world. He opened it and was not surprised to find a small note between the cover and the first page.

How about a vacation next year?

Next year.

They'd already spent so much time together, but reading those words on paper made Crowley realize that they could actually talk about the future, and a future together. Closing his eyes, he could almost see himself on the beach, Aziraphale reading under an umbrella and him lazing in the sun next to him.

He put the note in his pocket, closed the book, and took it with him to the sofa to leaf through it while he waited for the angel.

But before he reached the sofa, his gaze was drawn to the gramophone, on which, of course, was a little note.

You know my talent for French, so to save you from hearing me butcher that language of love again, listen to this song and imagine it's me talking about you.

Crowley turned on the gramophone and sat down on the sofa to listen to the music. He laid his head back and closed his eyes as the first notes began to sound.

Des yeux qui font baisser les miens

Un rire qui se perd sur sa bouche

Voilà le portrait sans retouches

De l'homme auquel j'appartiens

Quand il me prend dans ses bras

Qu'il me parle tout bas

Je vois la vie en rose

Il me dit des mots d'amour

Des mots de tous les jours

Mais moi, ça me fait quelque chose

Il est entré dans mon cœur

Une grande part de bonheur

Dont je connais la cause

C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui dans la vie

Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie

Et dès que je l'aperçois

Alors je sens en moi

Mon cœur qui bat*

Crowley swallowed and looked again at the note in Aziraphale's handwriting.

Imagine it's me talking about you.

He muttered, "Angel, you can't write things like that."

"Why not? If it's the truth."

Crowley, startled, gasped and turned to see Aziraphale standing not far from the sofa. He had probably been so caught up in the song that he hadn't heard the angel come in.

Aziraphale moved to sit beside him and took his hand, "Of course I can say things like that, because it's true. That's how I feel."

He chuckled slightly and added, "Although Edith says it much better than I do in French. But it's true, life is so much better when you're with me."

Crowley replied quietly, "It's mutual, Angel."

Then he pressed his lips to Angel's and they kissed tenderly before curling up together on the sofa.

After a few moments, Aziraphale asked softly, "Did you have a nice day, my dear?"

Crowley kissed his hair and replied in an amused tone, "You made sure I had a good day, Angel, with your little notes. And while I found it very entertaining, I am curious as to what made you do it?"

Aziraphale shrugged, "Just a touch of silliness on my part."

"Don't look so embarrassed when you say that, I told you I enjoyed it. Although I did find you a bit cheeky in some of it."

The angel chuckled slightly and asked, "Did you find them all?"

Crowley listed them and Aziraphale replied, "There's only one you didn't find. Which is normal, because I have it with me."

He pulled out a small piece of paper and, blushing slightly, handed it to the demon.

Crowley unfolded it and, after reading it, pulled the Angel to him and whispered into his hair, "I love you too, Angel."

*Song translation :

Eyes that make mine droop

A laugh that's lost on his mouth

This is the unadulterated portrait

Of the man I belong to

When he takes me in his arms

When he speaks softly to me

I see life in pink

He tells me words of love

Ordinary words

But it does something to me

He's entered my heart

A great happiness

The cause of which I know

It's him for me, me for him in life

He told me, he swore it for life

And as soon as I see him

Then I feel inside

My heart beating

Edith Piaf - La vie en rose

_________

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 : here (After season 2)

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here (Before season 2)

#good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable boyfriends #aziraphale #crowley #good omens fanfiction #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens s2 spoilers

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shkretart · 3 months

Note

wow.....König....

I honestly don't think you drew "another regular guy" he is a military man, a "jarhead", also he is Austrian, and Austrian/German men do have that bone structure (I lived in Germany for 10 years)

His eyes.....his eyes say it all, so much sorrow and turmoil, absolutely incredible!

Ive seen all kind of rendering of his face and I can say that I really love your vision of König and Ghost and they are canon in my head!)

I hope to see more of him or any art from you because its absolutely beautiful. You translate emotions so well in face expressions witch is extremely hard

❤️

Oh hello! It's very awkward and I'm embarrassed. When people with a lot of experience like you look at my drawings, I get even more nervous haha.

I'm really glad if I managed to convey this slightly sad look and closeness to his "roots"

I've seen many different versions of his appearance from different artists. Many people draw him with long red or brown hair and many scars on his face (like Ghost). And they are very interesting compared to my drawing. So I definitely don’t claim any kind of canon or beautiful versions of the characters (Ghost and König).

I'm still glad if you liked my drawings with them. I'm not sure if I'll draw more of them because... well, I really don't know how to draw these guys. Other artists draw from much better.

I was glad to read such a review ❤️ thank you!

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otomehoneyybearr · 4 months

Text

Luke’s Holiday Event Story!

Pictures and story provided by @candied-boys

(This one is a bit spicy so minors please don’t interact.)

I spent Christmas night alone with Luke, as we gazed at the snow falling gently outside the window.

Luke pushed a cart carrying a cake cut into five slices, towards me.

Luke: “Emma, I made a Christmas cake, so let’s eat.”

Emma: “Wow, it looks delicious! But why’s there so many slices?”

Luke: “Since its Christmas, just eating a regular cake would boring, don’t ya think?”

Luke: “So I thought we could play a little game.”

Emma: “A game?”

Luke: “I’ve hidden something inside one of the cake slices. If you find it, I’ll give you any present you want.”

Emma: “That sounds interesting!”

(It makes me happy to think that he prepared and planned various things to make Christmas enjoyable.)

Luke: “Anyway, just try eating one and see if you can manage to grab one.

Luke picks up a fork and offers it to me

Emma: “Thank you. I’ll choose… this one. Here goes nothing!

Choosing the leftmost piece of cake, I nervously stab the fork in, suddenly encountering a hard sensation

Emma: “Oh, there’s something in this one…!”

I gently move the cream aside, and a bear-shaped candy rolls out.

Luke: “Hey, you found it.”

Emma: “Really?! Alright!”

Luke: “Well, go ahead, tell me what you want. Anything is fine.”

Emma: “I’m happy I got it right, but… hmm… what should I ask for?”

(There’s nothing I want more than this time spent enjoying Christmas with Luke…)

(I’ve received so much happiness… That’s it! I want to give something back to Luke.)

I sneak a glance at Luke and notice his intense gaze directed straight at me.

(I think I understand what Luke wants…)

Emma: “Luke, I want you.”

Luke: “Are you sure? I’m always yours, no matter what.”

Emma: “It’s because Christmas is such a special day, that’s why I want my beloved Luke.”

Luke: “You say the cutest things, Emma. Well then, today, you can have it your way.”

Luke smiles and pulls me closer, and we both sit facing each other on the bed.

(Now that it’s come to this, I’m not sure where to start.)

Emma: “Is it really okay…?

Luke: “Yeah. I’ll grant any wish you have.”

Determined, I try to lift Luke’s shirt, reaching for the hem. Despite having embraced each other many times before, undressing him shouldn’t have been such a big deal.

Yet, I feel oddly self-conscious, my heart’s racing and my movements are awkward.

Luke: “Your face is really red. We can stop here if it’s too much for you.”

Luke’s eyes glint with amusement. Feeling frustrated, I shake my head.

(I started this to give something back to Luke, so stopping here is not an option.)

Emma: “…I won’t stop. I truly want you, Luke.”

Summoning all of my courage, I kissed him while trying to remove his shirt.

I timidly move my lips and try to use my tongue, but he doesn’t respond as I’d hope.

Emma: “��Meanie.”

Luke: “Sorry. You trying so hard is adorable.”

Luke: “But you won’t be satisfied with just this kind of kiss, right?”

As I struggle with both frustration and a maddeningly lustful sensation, Luke returned to his relaxed demeanor—

I surpassed my own threshold of embarrassment and clung to his neck, pressing my lips even deeper.

A kiss fueled by an instinct to convey all my passion, not allowing any ‘cute’ comments from Luke…

Then, Luke’s tongue moved with intensity, ravaging my mouth.

Emma: “…Ngh, Luke…”

As our lips parted, damp and ragged breaths echoed in the now silent, intimate space.

Emma: “…Haah… Couldn’t hold back anymore?”

Luke: “Oh yeah, you got me all worked up.”

Luke: “Besides, I’ve been wanting you too… Don’t hesitate to ask for what you want.”

(Luke seems to realize that this was my way of ‘giving back’.)

Emma: “Of course. It’s something I desired.”

With desire-soaked eyes drawing nearer, I’m pushed down, exposing not only my body but also my heart’s longing for Luke…

Emma: “Ahh…”

Luke: “Before I knew it, I ended up receiving a gift from you.”

Luke: “Merry Christmas Emma.”

Emma: “Yeah… Merry Christmas.”

We deeply loved each other as if we were exchanging meaningful gifts.

After being fulfilled and fulfilling in return, it was time for Luke and I to eat the cake.

Emma: “Oh, there’s a bear-shaped candy in this one too?!”

In another plate of cake, separate from before…

And upon closer inspection, even the cake Luke was eating had the winning candy hidden inside.

Luke: “Didn’t say there was only one winning candy, did I?”

Luke: “It’s Christmas, after all. I wanted you to freely ask for whatever you desired.”

(I’m surprised, but Luke’s sentiment is incredibly heartwarming.)

Emma: “Thank you. I love you, Luke!”

Luke: “Yeah, I know, I know. I love you too.”

Even on the coldest nights, with the snow falling outside, Luke’s love and kindness make it warm.

Filled with overwhelming joy, I kissed Luke on the cheek.

▼・ᴥ・▼

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri spoilers #ikepri luke #luke randolph #ikepri translations

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sofasoap · 8 months

Text

Love at first sight - 6

Pairing: Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra x F!reader ( aka Mini MacTavish)

Summary: Finally letting your feelings known. Part I, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4,Part 5,Epilogue

Warning: Mature rating. inaccuracies to medical and military related. discussion of injury. A/N: Thanks to @kaplerrr and @okayyadriana helping me with Spanish words :) if there are any mistakes. Please blame me not them.

“masterlist”

“Doc.. Doc… Doctor MacTavish. MINI.”

Your hand trembled slightly, mid suturing, as your surgical assistant called out to you. Breaking you out from your intense concentration.

“I’ll finish up.”

“But..”

“You've done enough.” You need rest. The unspoken words conveyed through the stern look.

Before you can reply, he already nudges you gently to the side with his hip, not even giving you a chance to refuse. Passing him the instrument and after giving them final instructions, you left the theatre as the scout nurse shoos you out.

Tearing off your cap and gown and throwing them into the bin, You stumble towards the sink. Looking up into the mirror as you splash some water onto your face, red rim eyes, dark eye bags and not to mention hair in disarray. Gez I really look shit.

Giving yourself a good slap on the face, your mind finally gets a moment to pause and try to process through what has been happening in the last twenty four hours. Not even minutes arriving at the base you were shoved onto helo and straight into medevac mission.

“SERGEANT MAJOR RODOLFO PARRA,YOU BETTER KEEP THOSE DAMN ASS EYES OPEN FOR ME OR ELSE!”

The panic you felt, it burns a hole in your heart. You have nearly lost all your hope as his vitals dropped and stopped responding to any stimuli. But you are Mini. The fierce and hot headed Doctor that is famous for never giving up on their patient. The Lady Fortuna.

And today, you won again. Luck and fortune was on your side again.

What would you do if you didn’t?

Cursing yourself in your mind for that negative thought as you walked out of the theatre, you saw a figure immediately standing up from the bench from the corner of your eyes.

“Colonel.”

“What is the situation?” Cutting straight to the chase. You don’t blame him, this is his second in command and closest friend’s life on the line here.

“We managed to stabilise him. Now it’s just waiting for him to wake up in recovery and hope for the best.” You roll your shoulders as you give him the postoperative rundowns. Eyeing Alejandro, you notice he didn’t come out of the mission unscathed himself.

Grabbing his arm , you made a noise of disapproval, “You are injured as well, Colonel, have you had someone look at you yet?”

“I am fine.” Alejandro waved off your concern lightly and frowned as he looked at your wearied form. “You look worse than me. You haven’t stopped the minute you got dropped off. Worry about yourself first.” You drop your shoulders and make a face. “Why is everyone trying to push me to rest?” “Because everyone knows you too well.” Pressing your shoulder, insisting you to take a seat. “Stay here.” he walked off after making sure you were not going anyway.

Closing your eyes as you lean back in the uncomfortable hard plastic bench, exhaustion catching up to you all of sudden. Maybe you really should start doing what you preach, before you collapse and become a burden to others.

A gentle tap on your shoulder brought you back from your mind wondering. Alejandro standing there with two cups of coffee and crackers.

“Not quite sure how you take your coffee. I added a bit of sugar and milk into it.”

“Thank you Colonel.” Quietly thanking him, you only realise that you haven’t had any food or drink for the whole day. No wonder you were on the edge of collapsing. But then there were more pressing matters to think about, injuries to attend to, life to save. Especially someone you cared about so much, slipping away from your grasp.

“He misses you a lot.” Alejandro quietly mentioned it after a moment of silence.

“I know.” Taking a sip of the coffee, contemplating if you should ask the question. You feel like you know the answer, you just want to be sure.

“Colonel.”

“Hmm?”

“What did Rudy say before he fell unconscious?” picking on the edge of the plastic cup, "not my Spanish is the greatest.. But I think I …”

“I think it’s a question you should ask him directly when he wakes up." Gently cutting you off, “I can only tell you, never have I seen my brother so lost before. Nothing ever phases him, not even in the most dangerous situation. That is why he is my second in command. The one I trust to keep an eye on my back.” Turning his head and looking at you with slight sadness in his eyes, “Thank you for saving his life, Mini.”

Draining the rest of the coffee, and throwing the cup into the bin. “Come. I’ll take you back to the base.”

Clenching onto the cup tight, nearly spilling the content out, “No. I .. I want to wait for him to wake up.” I want to be the first person he sees when he opens his eyes.

“You need rest.”

“I can sleep on the chair. I can sleep anywhere.” Pressing your lips tight, stubbornly refuse Alejandro’s offer.

Shaking his head, Alejandro sighed. “They were right about you again. You sure are stubborn as they described.” Pointing to the little bag on the ground that you haven’t noticed before, “Sergeant Soap dropped off the bag for you before. I’ll ask the staff here to see if there is an On-call Staff room or bed for you to rest in.”

Face heating up with slight embarrassment, you quietly thank him before he grasps your shoulder and turns towards the nurse station.

Now it’s a waiting game.

Rudy slowly opened his eyes. White ceiling. Definitely not back at the base. He closes his eyes again as the intense pounding of headache and bright light hits him. Definitely still alive. From the amount of pain he is feeling all over. Unless he is in hell where this is probably a form of torture. For punishing people who have taken too many people’s lives. Innocent or guilty.

Hearing light snoring coming close to the edge of the bed, slowly and with difficulties he turns his head to check out the source of the sound.

Well , maybe he is in heaven. Otherwise what would be the logical explanation that you are here with him. It must be part of the hallucination he was experiencing. He reaches his hand out, wanting to touch you, making sure you are real.

You slowly stirred as his hand gently caresses your hair. Your head shoots up as soon as you register what is happening, gasping for air with realisation that he has woken up.

“You ..are.. real.” Rudy blinked slowly, voice husky and coarse from lack of use. “You are here with me, mi amor…mi vida…”

Tears flooding over the edge of your eyes, you were overwhelmed by emotion and relief, months of pent up feeling, stress, regrets burst through the damn, flowing out from you all in one go.

“Aquí estoy mi amor….I am so sorry.. So sorry….” You couldn’t stop your sobbing and hiccup as you grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. Feeling his pulse, his warmth, him being alive.

“Why are you even apologising?There is nothing to apologise for.” he whispered as he returned your squeeze.

“I nearly lost you. If I didn’t get there in time.. If I didn’t manage to pull through that surgery.. If… “ you rambled on as you beat yourself with guilt, “I left you, and I nearly made the decision of not coming back, I would have lost the chance of telling you that I… I…. “ Taking in a deep breath as you look into his eyes, now with determination. You have to let him know. “That I miss you, I love you. I love you so much. I would never, ever, love anyone else like how I love you for the rest of my life.”

Rudy’s eyes widen with your bold confession. His heart aches as he takes in your features. Sadness and fatigue, how long have you been sitting by his bedside, waiting for him to wake up?

Forgetting his own injury, he tries to push himself to sit up, wanting to get closer to you, to pull you into his embrace, to comfort you, to soothe your worries. He winced in pain as he felt a pull around his abs. You look down at his torso in alarm, a slight bit of blood starts oozing out from the site.

“Stay down Rudy, you're going to tear out all your stitches and start bleeding again if you move too much!” you chided as you gently pushed him back down, immediately switching to doctor mode. “I didn’t spend hours and hours in the theatre trying to close your wound and to have you bleeding to death in this bed!”

“Please don’t leave me. Please my love… I just can’t bear the thought of you leaving me again.” He tenses up as you stood up and about to walk out of the room, the irrational fear flooding him, scaring you were going to disappear on him again.

“I am not going anywhere.. I promise. Now rest..” You push the slightly overgrown fringe away from his forehead, leaning down to give him a soft kiss on the lip. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”Your heart clenched at his desperate tone, “I need to go grab a nurse and some equipment,” pointing to his stomach, “and get that cleaned up.”

With that reassurance and another kiss, this time you let your lip linger a bit longer over his, Rudy closes his eyes again. He knows next time he opens them, you will still be with him.

He can finally relax.

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miss-hyoko · 1 year

Text

A Unique Love Song Ft. Octavinelle

Character(s): Azul, Jade, and Floyd

Summary: You confess to him through a song that you wrote yourself

Tag(s) and warning(s): GN!Reader, fluff, romantic, mutual pining (kinda?), a bit cringe, the boys being their usual self

Note: I was Azul's simp, but ironically, I rarely post any stories for him. So here, everyone, enjoy the Octavinelle boys for today 🥰🥰

You don't have the courage to confess directly to your crush, so you chose to convey your feelings through a song that you wrote yourself.

With Azul's permission (which you worked so hard to get), you're allowed to hold a small concert in the Mostro Lounge.

You give your crush an invitation to the concert, but you don't know whether he can come or not. And even if he shows up, will he realize what you're trying to say through the song?

On the day of the show, you sang three popular songs in a row. The fourth song is your last song, and also the song that you've written especially for him. After telling the crowd that this last song was your original song, you sang the song full of emotion. When the song was over, your eyes accidentally met his. Remembering your love for him, you subconsciously raised your mouth and smiled gently at him.

'My feelings, has it reached your heart yet?'

1. Azul Ashengrotto

There is only one reason why Azul allows you to sing in the Mostro Lounge. It's because he has feelings for you. If letting you sing in the Mostro Lounge makes you see him in a better light, then he doesn't mind. After all, it also benefits him and he can hear you sing too. It's killing two birds with one stone.

Initially, Azul only focused on counting how many visitors came after knowing that you were going to sing at Mostro Lounge. But as soon as you start singing, he will immediately hand over the task to the nearest Octavinelle student to better hear your singing. Using his authority as the owner of Mostro Lounge, Azul managed to secure the most strategic place to watch your show. Not too close for you to notice him, but not too far for him to hear your voice.

He knows quite well the first three songs you sing, but as soon as you say the title of the last song, he's a little lost. What song is 'Three Hearts'? Is that song just released a few days ago? Or does it come from less well-known artists? Oh, turns out it was your original song. Azul was a bit taken aback, but knowing that the song was your original work made him all the more excited to hear it. Using his magic pen, Azul is more than ready to record your song. This is your first original work after all, of course he has to document it.

When you start singing the fourth song, Azul listens very attentively because it's a song you wrote yourself. As the song progresses, he realizes that the song you wrote is a love song. It made his heart stop beating for a moment. Are you in love with someone now? Did you have that person in mind when writing this song? His mind started to become muddled, even so, his ears still listened keenly to your song.

Entering the chorus, Azul feels that the lyrics of your song have turned a little strange. What do you mean by 'I hope I have three hearts to love yours'? Do you really love that person so much? Or the person you love has three hearts? But that's weird! Every living being generally only has one heart, only a few types of animals have more than one. And as far as Azul knows, the one that has three hearts is octo... pus.

The realization hit him hard, like an ocean wave in stormy weather. Azul knows that in this school he's the only one who has a direct relationship with the octopus, being an octomer himself, but he's still in denial. What if the one you meant wasn't him, but another octomer? Or maybe your song is just for entertainment purposes and you're not really being serious with the lyrics?

Once the song is over, his eyes coincidentally meet yours. When you directed that ever so gentle smile at him, Azul feels like he once again fell for you. He will need some time to process the fact that you, his crush, also have the same feelings as him. But as soon as his brain started working again, slowly but surely, his face would start to turn red like a tomato, and he would rush back to his office. Azul won't come straight to you as soon as the show is over, since he still requires more time to calm down and prepare himself to face you again. After your shocking confession just now, there's no way Azul can still pretend to be his usual-composed self around you. But soon enough, Azul will call you into his office to discuss your last song. After all, as a businessman, he needs to double-check everything he deems important, right?

2. Jade Leech

When Jade first heard that you'd be performing at Mostro Lounge, he was a bit surprised. He knew your singing skills were pretty good, but he didn't expect that you would be brave enough to appear in public. It seems like you never fail to surprise him, huh?

Actually, Jade already knows you have feelings for him. How could he know? Isn't it your attitude, who enjoys his company while at the same time easily flustered by whatever he does, already speaks for itself? So, yes, Jade is very much aware of your feelings towards him. But will he tell you about it? No, he didn't want to lose his main source of entertainment. At least, not yet.

No one knows how Jade feels about you, but (according to Floyd's words) he seems more relaxed when he's around you. Jade would probably chuckle when he heard it, saying that he only stayed with you because you always surprised him with your unexpectedness. But when the day comes for you to perform, Jade will unknowingly go the extra mile when setting up the lounge, making sure everything is perfect so you can perform your best.

When you started singing your first song, Jade was still working behind the bar to serve the customers who came to watch your show. But don't worry, Jade is a master of multitasking. While making drinks for the customers, his ears are constantly focused on your song.

The moment you said the last song was your original work, Jade almost knocked over the glass he was currently cleaning. You're singing out in public is already shocking enough, but now you're saying that you wrote a song yourself and will be premiering it at Mostro Lounge? Now, now, that's something Jade would call a surprise.

You named your song 'Gentleman and Sociopath', which made Jade even more curious to listen to it. Jade originally thought your song was about two people who were polar opposites. But as you sang the part 'I fell in love with the gentleman, but the sociopath made me fall harder', Jade suddenly realized that the gentleman and the sociopath were actually referring to the same person. Fufufu, what an interesting plot twist. It seems you managed to catch him off guard again, little pearl.

Even after the music stops, Jade's focus is still on you, who haven't left the stage yet. It was then, you two looked at each other before you finally gave him a smile that Jade would never forget. Because that smile of yours makes him realize that your song was actually directed at him. You really are full of surprises, aren't you? It seems a little unfair that you're the only one who always surprising him, so what if he tries to surprise you too? Starting with… telling you what he felt when he heard your indirect confession earlier.

3. Floyd Leech

When Floyd first heard from Azul that you, his favorite fish, would be performing at Mostro Lounge, he was buzzing with enthusiasts. He was so excited that he even dumped all his jobs at hands just to meet you and confirm the truth.

That day, Floyd didn't return to Mostro Lounge to finish his work. He was so focused on watching you practice your singing that he lost track of time. If it weren't for Jade coming to get him on Azul's orders and you persuading him to go back, Floyd would have preferred to stay longer.

On the day of your show, when you just got on the stage, Floyd was the very first one to cheer for you. His cheers were very loud and full of enthusiasm, since it was his favorite fish that will be singing tonight. Unlike Jade, Floyd will leave all of his work behind to focus on watching you performance.

Often accompanying you on your practice, Floyd will also sing along occasionally on the part he likes. But when the time comes for the fourth song to begin, Floyd was a bit startled because normally, you only practice three songs. Does this mean sometimes you'll secretly have a train without him? Floyd's a bit unhappy. He really loves your voice, you know? So knowing he missed more chances to hear your singing voices leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

But after knowing the fourth song was something you wrote on your own, Floyd immediately understood why you didn't take him with you when you practiced it. So, his little fish wants to surprise him, huh? His mood immediately soared, and his cheers became even more excited than before. With how loud his cheers are, the people around him will start to think that Floyd is a beastman instead of a merfolk. 'Menace Looks Good On You' is now officially Floyd's favorite song!

Near the end of the song, there are lyrics that say, 'You may be a menace, but that's just made me love you even more'. Hearing that lyrics, Jade subconsciously glanced at his twin to see his reaction, but Floyd himself was too busy cheering on you to realize the hidden meaning in the song.

After the song is finished, it's finally time for Floyd to ponder over the song's lyrics. Once his brain catches the true meaning of your song, he will smile so widely while looking at you. When you looked back at him and smiled, all of Floyd's self-control immediately disappeared into thin air. Without hesitation, he'll sweep you away from the stage and take you somewhere else that's more quiet so the two of you can discuss your last song in more depth. Hey, little fish, did he ever tell you that you're the most interesting fish he's ever met? Already? Then, let him change a bit of his words from that time. You're interesting, and Floyd likes interesting things, so why don't we stick together, eh?

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