#azuwrites

[ayazuri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In which Limbo can take many forms and sometimes, just sometimes, it has a lot in common with a board game.

*

Eames’ Stupid Cupid gift to @finelydressedspacemen. Hope you like it! <3

@eamesstupidcupid

[jkfortunekookies]

Hi there! I have a question. In your list about Jungkook you mentioned this: changed the lyrics to Spring Day from “ Like a small pieceOf dust “ to “Like a small Jimin”. Do you remember where/which video you got that from? I cant remember seeing that and would really like to know. Also thanks for the list, it was beautiful!

It was from here around 0:53 :)

Thank you for enjoying ^^

[geek-fashionista]

I blame you. It is all your fault. TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR WHAT YOU HAVE DONE. HORIMIYA? HORIMIYAAAA????? My heart... my poor heart... first you destroy me with lucky us and now I tell myself "Hah, let's give her favourite manga a shot, what's the worst that can happen, hahahah".... I have no more emotional energy left. These kids leave me screaming. (Spoiler) AND I AM SO HAPPY THEY ARE GETTING MARRIED AAAAAH GIVE ME THE FREAKING WEDDING AAAAAAAAAAAAH

*runs to you, sobbing* HORIMIYA IS SO GOOD AND PURE

Even when the focus isn’t directly on Hori and Miyamura’s relationship, the other characters are so wonderful and the way they interact with each other---you can tell they are such great friends????

and the chapters that go back into Miyamura’s memories of when he was alone HURT SO MUCH but then you see him now, surrounded by all the people he cares about---

AND IT NEVER STOPS BEING FUNNY

“Dear God, please blow off my right arm...”“Miyamura is on his period.”

And pretty much anytime anyone interacts with Sengoku someone please pray for that boy’s sanity.

AND THE CHAPTER WHERE MIYAMURA GOT JEALOUS BECAUSE HORI WAS USING SOMEONE ELSE’S JACKET AS A BLANKET

AND THE SUBVERSION OF THE CLASSIC LOVE TRIANGLE WITH THE UNDERCLASSMAN GIRL BEING IN LOVE WITH HORI AND SEEING MIYAMURA AS HER RIVAL

Like honestly if you aren’t reading Horimiya after the millions of times I have screamed about it what are you waiting for?? This manga is a breath of fresh air and is 100% guaranteed to make you happy or your money back????

[azuwrites]

Gone

Chapter 16: Found

The snow fell, almost danced onto the roof of the city of love.

New Year had passed as noisily as ever, leaving people with hopes and resolutions, they hoped to keep for once. Though Christmas had already passed, the decorations were still up, upholding the magical atmosphere of the holidays. Schools were closed for another week, giving the students time to spend with friends and family.

And that was exactly what one specific boy in a big, not-as-cold-as-before house planned to do.

“Plagg! Where are you, we need to get going!”

The tiny cat grumbled and rose from his place on the couch, floating over to his protégée.

“I was just taking a nap, have some pity for an old poor tomcat who hasn’t slept in a week.”

Adrien blew his bangs out of his face, before grinning. Pulling the Kwami closer to his mouth, he quietly whispered into his ear.

“I heard Marinette has stored tons of Camembert in her room for you to enjoy while you spend some time with Tikki, but if you don’t want to go…”

It was like a switch was flipped in the cat’s brain.

“Camembert? Why didn’t you say so? What are you waiting for, let’s go!”

The boy laughed as he saw his best friend fly around the room excitedly, nagging the blonde to hurry up, which only made him giggle again.

Walking out of the mansion with his Kwami tucked away under his jacket, Adrien blew out white clouds of air as he headed towards the home of the Dupain-Chengs, a spring in his step he hadn’t had for a long time.

The last two weeks had been exhausting and scary to say the least, but they had brought so much good with them as well. The relationship between Plagg and Adrien was better than ever; his akumatization had somehow made his dad give him more freedoms, allowing him to go to school again; and he and his Lady…

It had been quiet the shock to find out that the girl who had taken him in so generously at his worst was also the one, he had sworn to protect with his life for years. To be honest, the first few days had been a bit awkward, but they had made a lot of progress since then.

Thinking about all of this made him laugh out loud, earning himself some weird looks from other pedestrians, but he couldn’t care less. He felt like he could hug the whole world.

Feeling the small creature hidden under his clothes only made his smile wider. Laying his hand over his chest, he cradled it slightly. Looking up again, he found himself face to face with the door to the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie. It was shortly after closing time, but Marinette had told him, that the door would be open for him.

Thinking about the girl with her family behind that door and the small cat in his pocket, his smile widened even further. A feeling, that he hadn’t felt in a long time, spread in his chest again, thinking about all the people he had in his life and what they meant to them. Pushing open the door, he embraced that feeling, letting its warmth wash over him.

He had found home again. 

[ayazuri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Arthur can’t stand his teasing and mocking, and the prospect of his fist getting acquainted with Eames’ face seems really satisfying. But, he doesn’t let that happen because Eames is exceptional at forging (or at least Dom insists on that) and they really need him for this job. So, he tries his best to ignore his taunting and focuses on his research instead.

  My @secretsaito gift for @mizunoir

(I think I’ll spare you my wishes for the third time :P)

[ayazuri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Arthur/Eames Pre-Canon, College/University

Summary:

The papers are scattered across the sidewalk. That’s how Arthur meets Eames. Well, not really and not exactly. But undoubtedly thanks to that.

 A case of lost essay that brings people together.

*

Written for @inceptionbingo square College/University.

(Well, life got in the way so this is basically the only thing that I managed to write for the bingo.)

(Big hugs and thaaank you to @acetronaught! <3)

[ayazuri]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Arthur/Eames

Major Character Death, Hurt (because that’s how am I, that’s how I roll)

Say hello to the first fic in literally YEARS, written in my beautiful native language. I didn’t realize how much I love writing in it, I never realized how much I missed it.

Someday, I’ll translate this into Englsh. But not just yet. Now let me cry tears of happiness that I’m finally back.

*

Summary:

''Po drugiej stronie szachownicy siedzi Arthur. Zdaje się, że on w ogóle nie zauważa, że coś w tej całej sytuacji jest bardzo nie tak. Między kciukiem, palcem wskazującym i palcem serdecznym lewej dłoni trzyma figurę szachową. Przechyla subtelnie głowę, spojrzeniem trzyma swojego przeciwnika w miejscu.''

Arthur i Eames, i pojedynek szachowy o najwyższą stawkę.

[ayazuri]

 Title: Dream of me

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: Inception (2010) Relationship: Arthur/Eames (Inception) Characters: Arthur (Inception)Eames (Inception) Additional Tags: Stuck in Limbo Word count: 829

Summary: 

He's stuck down there. And there's no way out. No escaping.

It’s a dream. You’re not here. I’m not really here. You're not real.

He's going to forget anyway.

A/N: If you expect suffering, you might just be mistaken. Just this once. So don’t get used to it too much :P Enjoy!

Keep reading under the cut or on AO3.

It’s a dream.

You’re not here.

I’m not really here.

It’s a dream.

It’s not real.

You’re not real.

There’s this mantra, this chant in his head, replaying over and over and over again. A broken record he’s slowly becoming sick of. It doesn’t change a single thing, the fact that he knows. The world around him isn’t real but it doesn’t change a single fucking thing because he doesn’t know how to escape.

God, he’s tried, tried so many times.

Ever since he realized. (And when was that? It’s getting harder to remember things, lately.)

But no matter how many times he kills himself, he always wakes up in his bed, drenched in sweat and nauseous. Except it’s not his bed and it’s not his house, and the person sleeping beside him is not real, no matter how real he seems. He knows, he doesn’t need to check his totem for this.

(Oh, but he did check, hundreds, thousands of times. And it’s always a dream.)

He knows where he is. Unconstructed dream space. Can’t really be anything, anywhere else. Prison without a way out. There’s no escape, he knows that now, and so one day he stops trying. The projection of the person he loves seems to approve of his choice.

There was a time, he thinks dimly, when he tried - and failed - not to get attached. Not in here. But this second body was so familiar, so welcoming, that he thought why not, and gave in.

Keeping track of the time is hard, so eventually he stops this too. Maybe it’s better this way. Maybe he doesn’t really want to know how much time has passed. Maybe not anymore. And he can’t really remember his own name, not anymore. Or the name of the person he loves. It’s strange, for he knows they both use them - their names - everyday. Yet, when he tries to remember there’s nothing there. Just unease and blank spaces, and fear. He wonders if there ever comes a day when he can’t remember that he’s dreaming. It’s probably not long until it happens. And maybe it’s better that way, maybe it’s better to finally stop feeling this agony, this longing for the life long lost. He’s going to forget anyway.

For there’s no hope left.

All he’s got left is the dream.

And the arms of the person he loves opens for him every night, and when he stops thinking, he can’t tell the difference anymore.

‘’You must wake up’’ the person he loves tells him one night, a long, long time after he’s stopped counting. He blinks, startled, and for a moment doesn’t know what’s this all is about. But then, the person he loves looks straight into his eyes and through them to his soul. And suddenly he remembers.

That it’s all just a dream. A life-long, too realistic dream. He probably isn’t even that old up there, in reality. He probably never even had time to get old. And the person he loves - the real one - waits for him there, and he’s probably worried sick. Because he always worries too much.

There’s something under his pillow, maybe it’s been here all along. Something he’s forgotten about. He gropes for it blindly, never looking away from his love’s gaze. His fingers find a familiar shape, familiar weight, familiar texture. He squeezes it and knows. His totem is a silent warning. It’s not real. He’s only dreaming.

‘’Why now? After all these years, why now?’’ he asks because there are no other words to speak. The person he loves sits up, still looking at him - into him - and then he’s on him, covering him with his body, pressing it to the mattress.

‘’Eames,’’ says the person he loves, his voice stern and serious. ‘’It’s time for you to wake up. Wake up now.’’

And Eames does.

He opens his eyes to the blinding light and scorching heat, and broken air-conditioning.

He wakes up to a startled gasp and muffled curse and exhale of relief.

Then someone - and Eames knows it’s the person he loves, the real one, the one and only Arthur and not some projection - takes his hand and squeezes it, and he feels that Arthur is trembling, ever so slightly. Arthur is so alive and real, that it takes Eames’ breath away.

‘’You’re so fucking reckless, Mr. Eames, I hope you know this.’’

And there’s so much fondness in his voice that Eames wonders how, in the name of everything that is holy, he could have forgotten how the real Arthur sounds, how he smells, how he feels under his touch.

He cracks a smile, and Arthur squeezes his hand just a bit tighter.

‘’I love you too, darling.’’

And he does, he really does love him. He doesn’t need to check his totem to see if this is real.

It’s not a dream.

You’re here.

I’m really here.

It’s not a dream.

It’s real.

You’re real.

We’re real.