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#it feels good to have got it done

inkjackets · 3 months

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To Save a Loved One Epilogue

It's been a moment since I've posted any sort of fiction let alone for this story, but I've finally found the time to get this epilogue done!

I hope you all enjoyed reading this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you did :)

I hope to see you in future works.

AO3

Ch1 Ch2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5 Ch6 Ch7 Ch8 Epilogue

~~~

10 years later

‘How are you?’ Gabriel’s voice was low and soft, and reverberated through Emilie’s heart.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The scent of bleach and sanitiser penetrated her senses and the conditioned air dried her throat, blonde wisps of hair fluttering against her neck.

She slowly exhaled and met the gaze of her husband sat on the other side of the table. Each time she came here he looked older but no less refined. He wore his elegance like a shield – like a mask – a form of protection behind of which existed an exhausted, worn-down man.

‘I’m well,’ she said quietly.

Gabriel’s expression softened into the barest of smiles.

‘And Adrien?’ he asked. ‘How is he?’

Emilie didn’t reply; she let his question hang in the room as she thought back to a few days ago when she’d last seen their son. Adrien had been laughing and smiling, and oh, he was the most beautiful thing in the world; he’d been gorgeous as a child and only blossomed further as he’d grown – something she didn’t quite know how to forgive Gabriel for missing out on.

‘Do you regret it?’ The words slipped from her tongue before she could stop them, words she’d wanted to voice for years but never dared to.

Gabriel’s smile fell away. What little warmth was in the room vanished.

‘No,’ he said, in a voice so deadly gentle it sent shivers down her spine.

Emilie cast her eyes down. She ran her fingers across the metal surface of the table, catching her nails on the grooves made from years of wear and tear.

‘You know you didn’t just lose Nathalie that night…’ she said soft and quiet. ‘You lost Adrien too.’

Gabriel swallowed. ‘I know.’

‘And yet, you say you regret nothing.’

‘Everything I did, I did for you.’

He took her hand and she slowly raised her gaze to meet his. His grey eyes pierced her heart and warmth rose within her at the love and devotion he clearly held for her.

‘I know,’ she whispered. Her heart clenched in her chest. She twisted her hand and gripped him back just as tight, gazing at him with conflicted affection, love flowing for him despite her better judgement. ‘I know.’

Emilie breathed in the sunshine as she strolled along the river, savouring every moment that her second life gave her. Grateful to be out of that prison and amongst life.

She paused at a billboard showcasing the latest Emilie collection. With his side-swept blond hair and smile that lit up the skyline, the model was the perfect Emilie ambassador. Yet he was nothing compared to her Adrien.

After Gabriel’s imprisonment she’d taken over the company and rebranded it. Though she hadn’t expected Adrien to disagree with her about it.

‘You’re continuing the business?’ Adrien had asked her after he’d found out. ‘You’re not selling it?’

‘Of course not,’ she replied. ‘It’s your father’s legacy. And it would be wonderful if you would continue being the face of the brand.’

Adrien had stared at her, offended and wounded, before turning his back on her and walking from the room.

Emilie exhaled and tore her gaze from the billboard. Despite the years that had passed, that rejection still hurt and confused her. But after her conversation with Gabriel this morning maybe, just maybe, she could start to understand.

She turned away from the river and crossed the road to meander down the backstreets and alleyways of Paris, determined to get lost; to explore and discover, whether it be stumbling upon a fresh set of blooming flowers or a new cafe that had opened. Overcome with the overwhelming desire to not waste her life.

Eventually though, she found herself gazing up at the familiar building where her son lived – a humble little flat he shared with the Dupain-Cheng girl. Not for the first time she wondered why they didn’t move somewhere more suitable for his station, it’s not as if they didn’t have the money.

After a moment’s hesitation, she strode up the steps to their flat and paused outside the door, fist poised to knock. She probably shouldn’t show up unannounced.

Especially just after visiting Gabriel…

But she dismissed her concerns with a shake of her head, and rapped her knuckles on the wood.

‘Mum!’ Adrien opened the door with a wide smile on his face. And tension leaked from Emilie’s shoulders as he wrapped her in his embrace. ‘I wasn’t expecting you, come in, come in!’

Plagg popped out Adrien’s mop of blond hair as she followed him into their little sitting room, he stared at her with his unreadable green eyes. She smiled at the Kwami.

He narrowed his eyes in response.

‘Can I get you something to drink?’ Adrien asked, turning and forcing her to break eye contact with Plagg. ‘Tea? Coffee…?’

‘Tea would be nice.’ She placed her bag on the couch and sat down, looking around, ignoring Plagg’s eyes on her as Adrien headed into the kitchen. This living room was so small it barely held the television and sofa.

As Adrien made their drinks she leafed through the exam papers scattered over the coffee table that he’d been in the middle of grading. She sighed. Being a teacher was such a waste of his potential.

‘I saw the Gorilla the other day,’ Adrien spoke loudly from the kitchen as the noise of the kettle boiling died down.

‘Oh?’ Emilie put the papers back. ‘How is he?’

‘He’s doing well! He’s got a gig driving around some high-flying lawyers, so he treated Marinette and I for dinner last week. We had a really nice time.’

‘How lovely.’

He appeared with two steaming mugs. ‘Have you been up to anything?’

‘Oh a bit of this, a bit of that. Nothing out of the ordinary.’

Adrien handed her a mug, smiling, and Emilie’s heart swelled. She loved that smile, it never failed to warm her heart. What she didn’t like however, was the unnatural paleness of his skin and the deep shadows under his eyes.

‘How are you sleeping?’ she asked, wrapping her hands around her mug.

Adrien shrugged. ‘I tried coming off my medication, but they put me back on it. But it’s always hard this time of year, regardless.’

‘Well, I’m glad the medication helps, even if it’s just a bit.’ She brought her mug close to her chest and cradled it in her hands, grateful for the warmth seeping into her skin.

Adrien hummed an agreement and perched on the arm of the sofa. ‘It does help,’ he said. Comfortable silence wrapped around them and Emilie blew gently on her tea.

‘You seeing him doesn’t.’

Emilie tensed. She met Adrien’s gaze, which had lost its former brightness and grown an icy edge.

‘You don’t deny it then,’ he said at her silence.

Emilie squeezed her mug so hard it burned her hands. ‘He’s my husband,’ she said quietly.

Adrien’s expression grew unreadable. ‘He’s my father,’ he said, devoid of emotion. ‘Yet I’ve never had the urge to visit him.’ He raised his mug to his lips. ‘Then again, I didn’t choose to be related to him.’

‘He’s still a good man, believe it or not—’

‘I don’t.’

She closed her mouth at the hardness in his eyes. Eyes which had long lost their childhood innocence. She glanced over his defined jawline, clenched fair too tight, with its ever so faint shadow of stubble, the ever so faint creases at the corners of his eyes, and his long locks of blond hair so haphazardly styled.

She’d never admit it, but she often missed the child he used to be. The one who never defied her – who said, ‘Yes, Mummy!’ to everything she said and listened to her like she was queen of the world.

She went to gently brush his fringe to the side but he pulled back.

‘You remember it, don’t you?’ she began softly, lowering her hand. ‘The way he would smile and play with you when you were little?’

Adrien looked away. ‘That was a long time ago.’

‘He can be like that still,’ she urged, ‘if you just—’

‘Drop it, Mum,’ he said, his voice quiet but sharp. ‘There’s no coming back from what he did.’

Emilie lowered her gaze. ‘He saved my life.’

Adrien glanced at her, more tired than ever.

‘I know.’

All the other acts Gabriel had done filled the room with their silence, swirling around and around like the tea in Emilie’s mug as her hands clenched tighter and tighter. He wanted us to be a family again, she wanted to scream but she bit her tongue. She knew too well where that sentence led.

She took a deep breath and sipped her tea, the lemon bitter on her tongue. Her eyes drifted around the room and landed on the mantelpiece, specifically on the framed picture of Adrien looking gorgeous all dressed smartly in black, with the Dupain-Cheng girl dressed in white next to him.

‘How’s Marinette?’ she asked, breaking the silence.

‘She’s well,’ he replied, sipping his tea, not looking at her. ‘Not that you care.’

That stung her. ‘I care—’

BANG.

They both jumped as the door slammed open.

‘Adrien, I’m home! And I’ve got everything for dinner! Also Alya just messaged saying her and Nino will be over at seven — Oh!’ Marinette froze as she stepped into the living room and laid eyes on Emilie. ‘Madame Agreste,’ she acknowledged, her demeanour suddenly changing. Without taking her eyes off Emilie, she placed her bags down and walked over to Adrien, placing her hand on his shoulder. The gold band on her ring finger glittered dangerously. ‘It’s nice to see you.’

Emilie pursed her lips and, like she did every time, scanned Marinette for any sign of hidden jewellery. She never had figured out what the girl had done with her peacock miraculous, though that wasn’t for lack of trying.

‘You’re not overworking yourself, I hope?’ she put on a smile.

Marinette placed her hand protectively over her stomach. ‘Luckily I’m sat at a desk drawing all day, it’s not demanding work, but I thank you for your concern.’

Emilie nodded. Of course she cared about Marinette; if the girl wasn’t careful or healthy the effects could be disastrous.

‘I’m sorry, did I miss a memo?’ Marinette asked. ‘I wasn’t aware you were coming over today.’ The air of nonchalance in her voice hid the ice underneath.

Adrien slowly shook his head. He placed his mug on the coffee table.

‘Can’t I visit my son?’ Emilie asked.

Adrien’s eyes grew cold. ‘Not when your trying to convince me to forgive him.’

‘I’m not trying to convince you to forgive him,’ she said. Adrien raised an eyebrow. She deflated a little, glancing away and rubbing her arm. ‘Just to visit him,’ she admitted.

Adrien rubbed his face. ‘I’m not having this conversation, not again.’

‘He’s your father!’ Emilie said.

‘He’s a terrorist.’

‘He loves you!’

‘No. NO! I’m not doing this, Mum!’ He jumped to his feet and found Marinette’s hand and gripped it tight.

‘You’re married with a baby on the way!’ Emilie cried. ‘He deserves to know and you should be the one to tell him!’

‘He deserves nothing,’ Marinette hissed as Adrien ran his hands through his hair in distress.

‘I don’t want anything to do with him!’ Adrien cried, ‘Why don’t you understand that?’ Tears rose in his eyes. ‘I can’t do this, not again, Mum. Please,’ he begged.

Emilie stepped back, a stab of guilt flashed through her.

‘I just want what’s best for you,’ she whispered, truthfully

Adrien swallowed. ‘I know,’ he said. He sounded so tired. ‘But this isn’t the way to do it.’

Emilie looked away, not knowing what to feel.

‘I think you should go,’ Marinette said quietly.

Emilie looked sharply at Adrien, and her heart sank as he glanced at her and nodded.

She swallowed, picked up her bag, and followed Marinette to the front door.

She turned back, holding her son’s beautiful green gaze.

‘I love you,’ she told him, filling her words with truth and sincerity, brimming with emotion.

Adrien sighed. ‘I love you too, Mum. I’ve never denied that.’ The barest of smiles rose on Emilie’s face. ‘But I loved Dad too.’

His words curled in her stomach, goosebumps ran up her arm.

‘Adrien—’ she began, desperate. Adrien turned away. Marinette grabbed her arm and pushed her out the door

And Emilie was left standing in the hallway, trying not to cry, with the sound of the slamming door in her ears, and her son’s broken eyes in her mind.

~~~

Marinette leant back on the door, fringe hanging in her eyes, and exhaled. Nothing was easy with Emilie.

She brushed her loose hair behind her ears and turned her gaze to Adrien; he stood silent, jaw tense, hands clenched, with a crease in his brow, gazing unseeing to the side. After a moment he bit his lip before grabbing the mugs from the coffee table and headed into the kitchen.

Marinette followed him.

She watched him as he placed the mugs in the sink and turned the tap on to get the hot water running. His hair shrouded his face as he washed the mugs, and when he turned the tap off, they were both met with sudden silence, broken only by the gentle dripping of water echoing in the drainpipe.

‘After all these years,’ he began softly, ‘all these years and she still doesn’t understand that he never loved me like he loved her. He never will.’

Marinette walked over to him, her soft footsteps loud in the silence, and placed her hand on his shoulder. He yielded to her touch, turning into her, burying his head into her neck, wrapping his arms around her. And she held him back, one hand clenching the back of his shirt, the other tangled in his hair, and she held him.

Tikki, Plagg, Nooroo and Duusu crawled out of their hiding spots and pressed themselves into the spaces between her and Adrien.

‘You did good, kid,’ Plagg whispered as he curled up against Adrien’s neck,

And the six of them stayed like that for a while in the broken yet warm silence, protecting each other just like they’ve always done.

Eventually Adrien pulled back. Marinette held his cheeks and gazed into his eyes. She planted a gentle kiss on his forehead, nose, and then on his lips. Adrien chuckled and warmth lit within her.

A sly look appeared in his eye.

Marinette yelped as Adrien spun her and dipped her, scattering the Kwamis and making heat rush to her cheeks as he winked and kissed her. Even after all these years he still made her blush so easily. One of the Kwamis found the speaker and Adrien threw her back to her feet in time with the music, before grabbing her hand and making her spin back into him. She grabbed his hand in return and spun him and spun him — Dusuu swooping and yelping, Tikki giggling, Plagg egging them on, and

Nooroo begging them to be careful but with a smile on his face — until Adrien was crying with laughter and begged her to stop. She pulled him close.

And they danced in the sunlight falling dappled through the window, dust motes swirling around them, hearts fast, breaths quick, life thrumming between them.

They ended up arms wrapped around each other rocking gently in the middle of the room.

She went to brush his hair back and he leant into her hand before taking it and kissing her fingers in quick succession – one two three four five.

She rested her head against his shoulder, but after a moment he tilted her chin back up to face him and forced her to gaze into his eyes, so soft and gentle, skin flushed pink.

‘I love you,’ he whispered.

She raised to her tip toes and kissed him on the lips, holding the moment between them.

‘I love you too,’ she murmured in his ear. ‘Now go get the shopping, let’s get this feast going!’

‘Anything for you, milady,’ Adrien smiled and kissed her on the nose.

They spent the rest of the afternoon cooking, intermittent with dancing and laughing, the latter of which only increased as Alya, Nino, and Chloe walked through the door, each bearing delicious gifts of their own.

They had a wonderful dinner, the five of them, like they did every year. Filled with memories and stories and laughter and fun. All cheering as Marinette brought out another bottle of wine along with a fantastic dessert.

Before long, plates were empty, everyone was sat back, glasses were topped up for the umpteenth time. The Kwamis were curled up on the sofa, sleeping together as the clock ticked past midnight. Soft music in the background, everyone smiling as they listened to the story Nino was telling…

‘—so she walks onto the set wrapped in this golden shawl,’ Nino said, ‘with these heels which must have been like ten inches high, and this MASSIVE headdress thats all spiked and celestial looking, and this gold paint on her cheekbones—’

‘She looked like a goddess,’ Alya chimed in.

‘She looked. Like. A. GODDESS,’ Nino agreed, slamming the table, ‘but with a Kazoo in her mouth. Like what? I know! Ruined her image. But then Kyle, the lighting guy, walks up to her and, well he—

Marinette snuck her hand towards Adrien as she listened to Nino. She found his fingers and weaved their hands together. He instantly gripped her. She smiled. ‘—And then she says, she says’—Nino struggled to hold back his giggles,—‘“Well I would, but it’s impossible with you standing there!”’ They all burst into laughter.

‘Well he was being an idiot!’ Chloe said shrilly, with a smile on her face.

‘Of course you’d think that, Chloe,’ Alya said, sticking her tongue.

‘Hey! I won’t stand for this slander!’ she scoffed in mock offence. ‘That’s ridiculous! Utterly, ridiculous!’

They all dissolved into laughter once more, Nino swung back in his chair dangerously.

Marinette shared a grinning glance with Adrien and he squeezed her hand under the table.

Despite the warmth in the room, it couldn’t help but bring memories of the five of them sitting around that coffee table all those years ago.

And Marinette watched them. She eyed her friends. She could see it in all of them. The hurt from all those years ago and their concern for Adrien.

It was in the way Alya swirled the wine in her glass but never quite managed to drink it. The way Nino would speak just a little too loud and tell just one too many jokes. The way Chloe would fuss over Adrien’s appearance and mutter about how he needed a hair cut.

She ran her thumb over the back of Adrien’s hand. All of their wounds, despite leaving scars, had managed to heal over. Except for Adrien’s. His wounds were constantly being ripped open, again and again. By his mother, his father, by Parisian celebrations.

Marinette closed her eyes. If she listened hard enough she could just make out – behind the jokes and the laughter and the music desperately trying to drain it all out – the noise on the streets from those celebrating Hawkmoth’s downfall.

Adrien was still smiling after everyone had left but Marinette eyed him worriedly. He danced as they cleaned and hummed while brushing his teeth but when they collapsed into bed, he lay on his back with his eyes wide open.

Marinette curled into him. ‘Talk to me,’ she whispered, bringing his forehead to hers. They both stayed there a minute, breathing in each other in silence.

‘Even now…’ he swallowed, ‘I still hold hope he might become a good father.’

A lump rose in her throat. ‘I know,’ she said.

The gentle sound of their breathing was the only sound for a moment.

‘I think I need to see him.’

Her breath caught. She pulled back and looked him deep in his eyes. ‘Not if you don’t want to, you don’t have to.’

He closed his eyes in a faint grimace, holding back his emotion. ‘I know. But I think I want to,’ he whispered.

‘Then I’m here to support you.’ And her heart broke for Adrien who would once again have his wounds ripped open.

~~~

‘What changed your mind?’

Adrien cast his eyes down and let the question roll around the room.

‘Why did you decide to see me after all these years?’

He let the silence swell.

‘I’m glad to see you. How has life been with your mother?

Adrien raised his eyes to meet those of the man who sat opposite. He looked tired and old. He had lost all of his former elegance and yet the look in his eyes held the same coldness that had haunted Adrien’s waking life all those years ago. Only at the mention of Adrien’s mother did warmth flash through them.

‘Do you understand me now? Are you finally here to forgive me?’

Adrien let the questions sink in.

‘Ten years ago I exchanged one parent for the other.’ He began quietly. ‘Over the years that followed I learnt why it was that you two were both so well suited.’ He ran his fingers over the grooves in the table. ‘You both knew how to tie your hooks into me so well, pulling and pushing and making me do what you wanted me to. Mother has learned to back off. It’s either that or she loses me, and she fears losing me more than she fears losing control of me. But I don’t know if that applies to you.’

Gabriel held Adrien’s gaze.

‘I don’t understand you,’ Adrien whispered. ‘I’m not here to forgive you. I will never forgive you.’ And his heart broke inside because this man, despite everything, used to be his father.

‘Why are you here?’ Gabriel asked.

Adrien twisted the ring on his finger.

‘Was it worth it?’ he asked, ‘The price you paid to…’ he trailed off.

‘Out of everything I did,’ Gabriel began slowly, ‘bringing your mother back is the one thing I do not regret.’

‘But what about Nathalie? What about Marinette? What about—?’ He cut himself off, biting down on his tongue, fighting the burning in his throat.

Gabriel sighed. ‘What happened to Nathalie was unfortunate, but she knew the risks. As for Marinette, she was a talented girl — still is from what your mother tells me. I would not have wished it to be her that got caught up in what happened, but I was not the one who selected her as wielder of the Ladybug Miraculous, it was not my fault it was her that got caught up in that fight.’

Adrien gazed in pain at his father. Waiting for an apology. Waiting for any form of repentance. Waiting for him to answer his third, unfinished question but the man remained silent.

Adrien swallowed his emotions, his face impassive. ‘I shouldn’t be here,’ he muttered and stood up. ‘I don’t know what I expected.’

‘Adrien, wait,’ Gabriel moved as if reaching for him.

Adrien looked at Gabriel’s hand. He slowly raised his tired eyes, waiting.

‘I’m so sorry,’ Gabriel whispered, voice cracking.

‘No you’re not.’

Gabriel opened his mouth, but no words spilled out. He stammered, silent.

Adrien stared at the man and all he felt was sadness. Sadness for a life lost, for what could have been, but nothing at all for the man himself.

‘I’ve married Marinette and she’s pregnant with your grandchild.’ He said emotionless. ‘Mother wanted me to be the one to tell you.’

Shock rose in Gabriel’s eyes. ‘Adrien. Adrien! Wait—’ but Adrien had already turned on his heel and walked from the room. He didn’t look back.

~~~

Marinette gave birth in the middle of a storm.

The rain battered at the windows and wind howled through the cracks, then a baby’s wail rang out, drowning it all out.

The nurse placed the baby boy in Adrien’s arms as lightning flashed outside. He sat down on the bed with a thump, stunned and amazed and gazed at his son, at his tuft of dark hair and large bright eyes.

Marinette lay her head on his shoulder. ‘He looks like a Hugo, don’t you think?’ she said softly.

Adrien burst into tears.

Marinette and the nurses looked at him in alarm as he held Hugo tight to his chest and thunder crashed outside as rain pummelled the rooftops.

That storm, oh so many years ago, had changed his life for the worse, filled it with regret and guilt and ways he should have changed it.

But no more.

Adrien couldn’t stop staring at the baby in his hands. Marinette cooed and played with Hugo, and when Hugo giggled, Adrien was filled with so much emotion fresh tears poured down his face.

Marinette wiped them away and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I love you,’ she whispered. And Adrien gazed at the amazing woman who had saved him in more ways he could count.

‘I love you,’ he said fervently and kissed her full on the mouth.

And finally he could see so clearly his path moving forward. He was done with the past. Done with it dragging and ripping into him time and time again.

He had a family worth loving and a life that was worth living. He could finally begin to heal.

#miraculous ladybug #ml #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #adrienette #ml fic #angst #angst with a happy ending #gabriel agreste #emilie agreste #ml angst #this ending has been living at the back of my mind for the last three years #can't believe it's been that long oops #it feels good to have got it done

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inkskinned · 4 months

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i had been used for my body before, i didn't mind it. i had a good trick about it - i didn't have to be there, not in my skin. i could wear the mirror, wear the puppet. you would see your perfect girl, a little monster i had concocted. she would glisten, distilled out of my own blood and venom. it meant i would be using you instead - you think you are taking from me? darling, i think this is a fucking joke, a role i am playing. you can't hurt me, i'm not present for the event. this is just a body, like a book is only words.

and then you came into my life, easy and honest. reaching for my hand in the crowded holiday market. passing me a water before i realize i'm thirsty. checking on me once, twice - the first time i said i'm okay, you knew i was lying. i keep thinking about the shape of your blue eyes and the wild of your hair the last time i saw you. how you got out of my car and when you looked back, i was looking back too. your quiet breathing in a hotel room.

you kissed me like you meant it, is the thing.

i don't know how to be a person yet, not fully. i don't know how to let you kiss me and touch bone. i tell my friends i hate this so much i want to throw up. your name slips into my head - i am no longer really ever alone. a little frazzled heartrate keeps splattering against my collarbone. my therapist asked yesterday - why are you afraid? what is the cost of vulnerability?

a terrifying thought: when i'm with you, it feels like finally coming home.

#spilled ink #warm up #writeblr #i got distracted while writing this so i don't like it lol #btw the coming home thing is a good feeling i just resent it bc i have spent the last 18 months #being like #lOVE ISNT REAL >:(#to the point that i haven't been writing love poems on here #and NOW?????????? WHAT HAVE U DONE TO ME??????????????????????????

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ruporas · 1 year

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bound to want (part two) /// part one rest of pages under READ MORE after ID

[ID: 23 page digital comic of Vashwood from Trigun Maximum. The comic is in a limited palette of a dark blue, light pink, white, black, and a light beige color for Vash's skin and a mid-brown color for Wolfwood's. This comic is the second part to "Bound to Want" and is spoiler-free. The first part is linked here.

It begins with a panel close up of Vash's expressions. The sky colored in dark blue can be seen behind him. He has a neutral expression, but he holds a slight frown and the reflection of his glasses covers one side of his eyes. Wolfwood says, "Hey. What's with the distance?" In the second panel, the shot widens to show both of them, a clear physical distance separating them with Wolfwood walking ahead and Vash trailing a little behind. Vash responds, "What? I'm just walking a bit slower today..." Wolfwood looks at him with a an irritated expression, clicking his tongue. Wolfwood says, "I was going to wait for you to start... But yer just running away away."

Vash is seen looking away, unable to hold eye contact with Wolfwood as he continues, "You've been avoiding me since that night. Did ya think I wouldn't notice? It's about that dream, right? Tell me about it already if you're going to be moping like this." Vash looks slightly downwards, his brows furrowing and he starts to walk ahead of Wolfwood without looking at him and responds stiffly, "I really don't want to talk about it..." Wolfwood looks at him with a surprised expression, but doesn't probe.

A panel close up to Wolfwood's eyes as he watches Vash go on ahead before he follows suite with an irritated sigh. The panels are overlapped by Wolfwood's hand holding the bottle of the Bride with motion lines, indicating a transition in time.

A wide shot of Vash and Wolfwood in a room now. Vash is seated, his back turned away from the viewer, while Wolfwood's body faces the viewer with his eyes looking towards Vash. He rests the bottle of the Bride on the table with a "clack" and his other hand holds two shotglasses. The background is coated in a light pink.

A panel shows a close up of Wolfwood's face, his eyes looking downwards to Vash as he says, "Let's drink." Next to this panel is Vash looking up at Wolfwood, his brows furrowed and a slight frown. The bottom half of the page is a wider shot with Vash's body turned away from the viewer as he says, "I'm not going to talk about it." Wolfwood responds, "You don't have to." as he sits down.

A wide panel of Wolfwood holding the shotglass, pouring in the drink as he continues, "I'll talk." The next panel is a profile view of Wolfwood, his eyes looking down at the now filled shotglass as he continues to say, "You're..."

"... upset with me." Vash can be seen next to this speech bubble with narrowed eyes, looking towards Wolfwood. The panels are all coated in with a dark blue background. Wolfwood continues, "I can't be certain why since yer not telling me a thing -- but it's probably... my bad." The panels show Wolfwood about to bring the shotglass to his mouth but he turns way as he continued to speak, his eyes not on Vash. The bottom page shows him looking away completely with a guilty expression as he says, "I'm sorry.

If you can ever tell me why, I can try and adjust to make it more bearable. But if you're just trying to get rid of me--" The panels follow Wolfwood's certain expression as he says this, "I don't intend to leave you. I can't... and I won't." A panel shows Vash's wide-eyed expression, surprised upon hearing this, and then his eyes soften as Wolfwood again concludes with, "I'm sorry."

Vash's inner thoughts begins, a boxed speech at the center of the page and panels of his eyes, his brows furrowing again and a resigned, but frustrated expression. His thoughts starts, "Stop. I shouldn't be happy hearing that. And why are you apologizing? I should be the one to..! I can't let anything like that happen to you. You deserve to live a long steady and peaceful life. I want to be optimistic. I want to protect you, but I might end up doing the opposite." The text surrounds Wolfwood from Vash's perspective, the other man drinking out of his shotglass, his eyes downcasted.

"I shouldn't have you. And you won't leave." Behind these text is a panel of Wolfwood's eyes finally looking over to Vash. Vash's thoughts continues, "It's so unfair." When Wolfwood sees Vash, his eyes soften and he frowns. The last panel shows the lower half of Vash's face, but tears begins to flow down his cheek. Wolfwood's hand is already reaching to wipe at them as he starts to say, "You know..."

A wider shot of Vash and Wolfwood, Vash slightly leaning forward with his mouth tightly shut, and tears steadily continuing to flow out of his closed eyes. Wolfwood continues to wipe at them with his hand as he continues, "This isn't a dream anymore. I don't know what you saw for you to be this shaken up, but whatever happened, you'll overcome it, right? If not you, I'm here too. You'll be okay, Spikey. So..." Wolfwood's expression grows more tender, "Have a little faith in me... and come back already." The dark blue starts to fade.

The wide panel has the dark blue background faded and replaced is the light pink. It shows Vash in full up to his shoulders, his eyes are still tears littered, but there's light in them as he says, "Wolfwood..." making eye contact with the other. The next panel shows Wolfwood's tender expression, his eyes and brows fully soften and he has a small smile on his lips, finally seeing the other return a level of sincerity with him.

The next panel shows the bottom half of Wolfwood's face and his hand is offered towards Vash for a dance as he says, "C'mon. We don't have to talk, but this is okay, right?" The background is now white and a ribbon flowing across the page separates this panel from the next sequence. Vash's inner thoughts continus, "I've spent too long avoiding this. It's scary to want after I've taken so much from others." A sequence close up of their hands is shown, with Wolfwood's outstretched hand on the right and Vash's reaching hand on the left. Vash gently places his hand in Wolfwood and at the bottom, Wolfwood wraps his fingers across Vash's.

Throughout the page, a dark blue ribbon starts to flow around the both of them with confetti raining alongside the effect. Vash and Wolfwood are hand and hand, dancing together with Wolfwood as the lead. The viewer can see a peak of Vash's expression, full of fondness but also a hint of sorrow as he looks down at Wolfwood. His inner thoughts continue, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you. But why is that even though I have these burdens, I still want to love you. I still want you to be by my side."

With a close up of their mouths, Vash's thoughts continue, the text covering his mouth, "Wolfwood, I--" Wolfwood's speech bubble covers Vash's text as he completes his sentence, "want you." Vash's eyes widen for one panel and in the next, his eyes spark, a blush appearing on his cheek and the confetti flows and spark. Tears ease up on his eyes again.

"Want me too already, Spikey." Wolfwood has leaned in enough to rest his head against Vash, a hand of his on Vash's neck, holding his nape and another hand pressed gently against his back. A ribbon separates this panel from the next, a mix of confetti flows across the page, as Vash envelopes Wolfwood in a hug too, holding him and his hand gripping tightly onto his back.

This page is just the ribbon flowly throughout the page on the white background, one white ribbon and the other a dark blue. Near the bottom, the ribbon envelopes each other in a loop. A conversation of Vash and Wolfwood is held over these ribbons, Vash starting to say, "What if I hurt you? What if you..?" Wolfwood responds, "You? How could you hurt me?" Vash, "You know what I mean... You see it everyday..." Wolfwood responds, "If you think I'm going to kick the bucket so easily, I suggest you look at me more closely from now on, idiot. I'm not that easy to get rid of."

The next page has the ribbon criss cross over the top of the page. Vash and Wolfwood can be seen in their dancing position again, Wolfwood now resting a hand on Vash's shoulder, as Vash takes the lead. Vash continues, "Well, I know that... I tried." Wolfwood responds, "But you won't anymore... since you want me... around, yeah?" Wolfwood's head cocks to the side, smiling with assurance, cheeks flushed. Vash looks at him with a wide smile and fond, loving eyes. The confetti flows across the bottom of this page and as it eases into the next page, it starts to disappear.

Vash responds, ".. Yeah... I do..." as he pulls Wolfwood into a hug again. Wolfwood says, "Not going to run away anymore, are you?" Vash says, "No... I trust you." A panel shows Wolfwood's turning away slightly with a shy expression, muttering "Geez..."

In a more simplified style, Wolfwood is seen gripping Vash's cheeks now with his hand, "Though... You do remember you avoided me for two weeks straight, right? How are you going to make that up to me?" Wolfwood asks. Vash responds with eyes closed and a pucker of his lips. A vein of irritation appears on Wolfwood's face. Wolfwood starts to squeeze at Vash's cheek with both hands, shouting, "Now that you've recovered, you're trying to be funny, huh?!" Vash says through the squished cheeks, "I'm just happy..."

The next page opens with a closed up panel of Vash's widen eye as Wolfwood's hand moves from squishing his cheeks to gently holding them and Wolfwood leans in. The inner thoughts starts again, "There's a chance I'm not making the right choice... My dreams, my fears of losing you, it will never go away. But you said you won't let it happen... And I want to hang onto your words closely this time. After all, if it's anyone who can make me believe, it's you." The white ribbon from previous pages flows across the page and it visibly ends at the bottom of the page, enclosing the two of them as they share a gentle kiss with Vash holding Wolfwood's face, a tear in his eye.

The next pages starts with Wolfwood saying, "You cryin' again?" Vash responds, "I'm just grateful..." Wolfwood responds, "But you've always had me." Vash responds, "Being like this is different from staring at you from behind all the time though..." The two can be seen together again, Wolfwood pressing his elbows against the table with Vash leaning over him. Wolfwood is easing the tears out of Vash's eye again, just like earlier. A close panel of Vash's fond expression is seen as he says, "Thank you, Wolfwood." Wolfwood looks up at him with a small smile, gentle eyes. Confetti starts to flow lightly across the page as text starts to appear against the white background, "I'm the one who's grateful...

That you'd embrace someone like me, when I'm not fit to hold you in the first place... But I know better than to hesitate. The moment I acknowledged it, I knew I'd spend the rest of my life loving you. So, have as much of me as you want, Vash."

The final page shows the confetti gently falling down the page and at the bottom shows Vash and Wolfwood pressing their foreheads together, Wolfwood's hands cupping the side of Vash's face gently, and both of them smiling brightly with each other. ID END]

#vashwood #trigun #trigun maximum #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #its done.... after 2 months.... collapses on the ground #theres a lot of things i would prob change about this but. its so sappy that it makes me a little happy where it ended up #they deserve a little sap too!!! and in the end this is the closest they could get to a first confession #through want! want in each other's life and company since they both have this strained relationship with keeping people permanent in their #lives... and the people or things that are tied to them in the long term tend to be something that harms them.#and as the saying goes -- good things never last! and im sure they prob gave up trying to find a good thing for a long time #vash managed to be found after the moon accident and got his good thing for a bit but even he prob knew itd come to an end eventually #ironically it was wolfwood that ended it. but he really just planted smth new for vash... and now they have some security #or at least vash does. or at least just for this one moment #a moment of bliss and feeling like they are deserving of love is so Fluctuating for vashwood #and ultimately i think wolfwood could only push onwards to initiate because he sensed there was smth vash wanted. and its just #naturally in wolfwood to give to those that he love #but anyway anyway.... i like to think in a sweet universe -- they had the chance to confess like this and got a little bit of time to #enjoy and share their company in this manner. to be a little less restrained and love each other freely #ruporas art

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breadmecoshy · 4 months

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SO I'm going through hollow knight for the fourth time ha ha

Besides, I've re-read the "Stag Beetles and Broken Legs" fan fiction again, so it's time to humanize Monomon and Quirrell!

(seriously, read "Stag Beetles and Broken Legs", it's damn good) In my conception, Monomon is the oldest of the Dreamers, but she's actively youthful, wearing such light clothing and acting quite active compared to her scowling counterparts (However, she also looks younger than her years on her face, so no one has any questions about it)

And young Quirrell, haha. So young and inspired, with burning eyes. Cute. Time has not bypassed him (though it's even better for some-). At least now he's age appropriate for Monomon

I can redraw my old concepts in more detail if you like my humanizations. I can also draw humaneizations of other characters if you ask (or more Lurien….. I like to draw his face…… gentle rose…….)

#I really like how Monomon and Quirrell look next to each other....#Age has done Quirrell good hahaha #I think Monomone was one of those people who didn't really care about anything #So she wouldn't mind a relationship with a cute young Quirrell #But that would be a problem for Quirrell #Even if the feelings are mutual the age difference feels like a very unequal union #And when he got old it stopped being a problem hahaha #They're on the same level now #There are so many different humaneizations of Dreamers on tumblr #It's amazing how different they all are #I guess the lack of canonical information contributes to this #Technically you can't say another person's vision is wrong unless you have something to refute it with #hollow knight #hk #hk dreamers #hk monomon #hk herrah #hk lurien #hk quirrel #hk hornet #lurien the watcher #monomon the teacher #herrah the beast

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topaziraphale · 7 months

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"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

#derpy speaks #good omens #good omens 2 #no i dont think crowley is gonna ever hate aziraphale for what happened but he's allowed to be angry #he's allowed to be done with it all. he's allowed to be exhausted. just look at his face when he drives away.#meh. idk. but i dont know how i'll feel if crowley just INSTANTLY accepts aziraphale back in a situation involving #idk - ''hey help me stop the new apocalypse''#at least. without like. SOME pushback? it can even be something small like ''are you SURE you want ME to help you? do you really need me?''#doesnt have to be a straight refusal but i'd like SOME kind of action to show that crowley is putting his foot down for once #he deserves that self respect #do NOT reply saying that im insinuating that aziraphale is actively malicious or doing it on purpose.#everything he has done up until now is his own complicated response to all the trauma and guilt he's been through #but despite that crowley is STILL allowed to be upset... it's messy. i can write a whole paper about how this whole thing #is just unfortunate on both ends. again. we didnt get queerbaited we got communication baited 😭#but help me out here. am i just too fandom-brained to have these expectations from the story?#is there something obvious im missing that is making me sound like a complete asshole here? do i need to get my head out of the gutter?#someone please explain it to me if so because whatever it is‚ i can't find it #not queued

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leupagus · 29 days

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Team Stark, Team Targaryen, Team Black, Team Green, whatever. I'm on Team Let Shireen Have Nice things

Sansa's horse's name was Ninny; he had one blue eye and one brown, which Northerners thought was lucky.

"More likely means he's deaf in one ear," Father remarked. Ninny's ears, which seemed to hear well enough, flattened and he nipped at Father's horse. (If it had a name, Father either hadn't asked or didn't want to tell her, since he'd ignored her question when they'd first mounted.)

"I think he feels insulted, Your Grace," Sansa remarked, pulling Ninny's head back around and settling her arms more comfortably around Shireen's waist. She'd been kind to let Shireen ride with her, since most of the Northern horses were needed to carry two or even three soldiers apiece, along with whatever equipment they could drag out of the snows. Mother and Lady Melisandre had chosen to ride two of the surviving Southern horses, but Mother had said there wasn't room on hers for both of them.

So instead of riding in the back of the train, Shireen was next to Father near the front, just behind the beautiful banners that snapped and curled in the breeze. It was still bitterly cold, but Sansa's cloak was warm wrapped round them both and she had even brought a pair of Northern boots for Shireen, with the fur thickly lined on the inside. Only the right side of her face was chilled, tears pricking at her eye. Sansa said they would make camp late tomorrow at this pace; her stormseer had promised them blue skies and clear nights. Shireen had hoped this would make Father — not happy, since she had only rarely seen him so, and never since Uncle Robert had died — but less unhappy.

Instead, it had turned him surly, the sort he only got when he had been frightened about something. He had been like this once when she had gone sailing with Devan in his little skiff and it had capsized, sending them laughing into the calm waters of the western bay. They had managed to swim toward land, pushing the hull of the boat before them, and had found Father and Ser Davos wading out to retrieve them. Davos helped Devan drag the boat in, laughing all the while, but Father had picked her up and carried her to shore, holding her so tightly she could feel her bones creak. "Get to your rooms and change," he'd ordered, all but dropping her to the stony beach, and for the rest of the day had scowled and muttered whenever she'd spoken.

She could not think why he was acting this way now, but she had long since given up trying to coax him out of his sulks the way she could Ser Davos. Instead she asked Sansa more questions — about the Wolfswood, where she and her army had hidden themselves, and about the Goldgrass Coldblood horses that Northerners rode.

"Not just Goldgrasses," said Sansa. "The mountain clans breed and ride their Breakstone Garrons, which are even better than the Coldbloods when it comes to surviving the winters. They're more like goats than horses — they eat like goats, too," she added with a wrinkle to her nose. "The other day, a Garron managed to open Lord Flint's saddlebags and ate his linen smallclothes."

Shireen covered her mouth to hold in her giggle, but Father had dropped behind them to speak with Davos a few lengths behind. "Was Lord Flint very cross?"

"Oh, yes, but you can't throw a horse into the stocks, even if he does eat your underthings."

#spoilers: stannis is surly because he was about two episodes away from murdering his own daughter #and he's having some Feelings about himself as a result #which: GOOD #honestly still cannot believe that anyone thought that character arc was a good idea #anyway I love the idea that sansa is to shireen as margaery was to sansa #ie someone she looks up to who is kind of terrifying #MORE WOMEN RELATIONSHIPS PLEASE #game of thrones motherfuckers #got: bitches get stuff done

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