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mononijikayu · 2 days ago
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and there was something 'bout you (that now I can't remember) — fushiguro megumi.
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Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.” "My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto. The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow. It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.
GENRE: alternate universe - modern no curses au;
WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, fluff, aged up characters, brief one sided romance, eventual romance, slice of life, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, sad ending, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, internal conflict, future, letting go, break up, getting back together, depiction of character death, depiction of romance, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, depiction of illness, mention of illness, mention of loneliness;
WORD COUNT: 21k words
NOTE: when i sent this to my beta reader last night, it was like 17k words. it ended with 5k more words than it needed to be. but with how i write, i just end up being the most unpredictable person. even to myself. i wanted to write about megumi cause i missed him. i hope yall guys understand. anyway, i hope you enjoy this a lot!!! i'll see you soon on the next one!!! i love you all <3
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MEETING YOU FELT LIKE DESTINY. And he would not have it any other way. If one was being honest, you were the only other constant in Fushiguro Megumi’s life – besides his sister Tsumiki and Gojo Satoru. But that was to be expected. He trusted no one.
He likes to think he was a tough crowd, that he wasn’t easy to please. But Megumi expected that. After all, what child wouldn’t have that issue, when his dad left him and his sister to fend for themselves at such a young age? He was bound to have mistrust for everyone and anyone who can’t prove themselves. 
He hadn’t expected to make a friend, not really. If he was being honest, talking to people wasn’t something he excelled at, and reading others’ expressions felt like a puzzle he was never meant to solve.
He was and always will be someone who had a hard time with people. But then there was you, full of unexpected warmth, approaching him on the playground, holding out your prized Charizard card in exchange for his Jigglypuff. You seemed to be the exception. 
“Hey, you!” You pointed at him like he was a riddle you had just solved. Megumi blinked, glancing around to make sure you weren’t talking to someone else.
“Yes?” He answered, the single word sounding more like a question.
You marched up to him, unbothered by the silence that followed. “I’ll trade you my Charizard for your Jigglypuff.”
Megumi’s brows knit together in disbelief. He stared down at the holographic card you offered, one that every kid in school would beg to have, and then at the tiny, pink Jigglypuff in his hands that no one ever wanted.
“Why?” he asked, eyes narrowing just slightly. “Charizard is powerful. Why do you want this weak card?”
“Because it’s cute! And I love cute things! Well…everything cute, really!” you said as if it was the most obvious answer in the world. 
Your smile was bright, eyes crinkling as if you were laughing at a secret only you knew. When he slowly handed over the Jigglypuff card, your face lit up with such joy that it made Megumi feel like he had done something incredible. You hugged the card to your chest and then looked at him with a grin. 
“Thank you for trading with me! Do you wanna be friends?”
Fushiguro Megumi stared at you for a good few seconds, stunned by your straightforwardness. You were smiling all throughout that. Like it was the most normal thing in the world. And he could feel it, even then.
You pulled him so close to you with your magnetic pull. He spun around you almost immediately, like the moon embracing the earth. But before he could answer, you added with a playful tilt of your head. 
“I’ll even let you win in tag! And…and I can share my candies! My mommy gave me a lot to share!”
A small, surprised smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t notice it himself at first. But he likes to think that he only remembered how he smiled years later, when you pointed out to him. Yet all he could focus on is how you smiled at him. How you were so happy, waiting for his answer to your invitation. 
“You’re on.” he said, his voice soft but resolute.
That continued on as you both found yourself living in bodies that grew older and minds that grew wiser. Years passed and yet you had only gotten closer to one another. Both of you were now in middle school, and almost everyday since then — you had always been together.
Fushiguro Megumi could not remember a day where you both were ever even apart. Just one smile and he was hooked. His morning, his noon and night would be consumed by you. And he rinses and repeats. 
The playground turned into hallways and classrooms, and those silly childhood games were replaced with quiet study sessions and whispered jokes. But the feeling you gave him never changed.
He still felt like he was holding something rare and precious whenever you smiled at him like that. Everything about your smile was the most precious warmth he could ever feel, that he admits.
One evening, as you both sat under the orange sky, your laughter from an earlier joke fading into content silence, you turned to him, resting your chin on your knee. “Hey, Megumi?”
He glanced over, meeting your eyes that were as warm as ever. “Yeah?”
“Do you ever think about how lucky we are to have met?” you said, your voice light but sincere.
Megumi looked down at his hands for a moment, feeling the weight of your question. “Yeah.” he replied, his voice low. Then, looking back at you with a rare, soft smile, he added, “More than you know.”
You blinked in surprise, cheeks turning pink. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Megumi shrugged, eyes glinting with a teasing challenge. “Figure it out, you dummy.”
As your laughter rang out, he knew, in that moment, that he was irrevocably in love with you. He always had been, and he always would be.
Your laughter bubbled into the quiet evening air, filling the space around you both with a warmth that wrapped itself around Megumi like a familiar embrace. You playfully nudged his shoulder, eyes sparkling with curiosity. 
“Oh, so now you’re mysterious, huh? Fushiguro Megumi, you’re supposed to be the serious one!”
Megumi huffed a soft chuckle, a rare sound that made your heart skip. “Maybe I’ve been keeping secrets all this time, you know?” he said, his tone light, though there was a weight behind it that he didn’t dare show.
Your eyebrows rose as you leaned in, eyes narrowing with curiosity. ���Secrets? Like what?” You poked his arm playfully, eyes alight with mischief. “Spill it, or I’ll never let you live it down.”
He met your gaze for a moment, searching your face, the sunset casting warm shadows across your features. The thought of confessing everything—how many nights he’d spent thinking about you, worrying about you, loving you, it all made everything tighten in his chest. But he pushed it back down, letting the familiar wall settle back into place.
“There are some secrets that are better left unsaid, you dummy.” he said, his voice steady but distant.
You pouted, crossing your arms with a huff. “You always do that. You’re always hiding things from me, Megumi. You know you can trust me, right?”
His eyes softened, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. “I know, I know.” he said, pausing before adding. “But you shouldn’t hide things from me either. Like when your boyfriend stands you up.”
The playful expression fell from your face, replaced by surprise. You stared at him, wide-eyed and speechless. “How did you—”
“I just know.” he interrupted, looking away, his jaw tightening as he bit back the frustration that had been building inside him for weeks.
He hated the way you always made excuses for people who didn’t deserve you. He hated even more that you loved the wrong ones. You sighed, the tension in your shoulders easing as you gave a small shrug.
“He’s busy, you know he’s on the baseball team.” you said, though your voice was thin, even to your own ears.
Megumi clenched his jaw, swallowing the urge to argue, to tell you that being “busy” wasn’t a good enough reason. But he knew it wouldn’t change anything. He didn’t want to ruin this moment, didn’t want to see you upset. So, he said nothing.
Then, you smiled, soft and genuine, the kind that made his heart ache with both joy and longing. “It’s a good thing I have someone like you, though.” you said, leaning your head against his shoulder for just a moment, as if seeking reassurance. “My Megumi.”
"My Megumi." you said softly, the words like a balm that soothed every ache, every frustration he’d been holding onto.
The way you said his name, it reached down to the deepest part of him, pulling at heartstrings that felt knotted and tired. It made him feel more alive than he ever thought possible, like for just a moment, the world could pause and bask in that glow.
It was always like this with you. The way you spoke his name, the way your voice wrapped around it like a melody, made everything else fade away. It was as if the sun itself came out just to light the room when you said Megumi. He knew with a certainty that startled him that he couldn’t live without this, without you.
The air between you was heavy, charged with words unsaid and emotions kept at bay. Megumi felt his fingers twitch again, that familiar pull to reach for you, to close the space that always felt like miles, even when it was only inches.
You turned to look at him, eyebrows knitting in concern as you noticed the silence. “Megumi, are you okay?” 
Your voice was soft, searching, the way it always was when you sensed something under the surface. He forced a smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”
“Thinking? Now that’s dangerous!” you joked, nudging him lightly, your eyes sparkling with mischief. It was an attempt to bring back the lightness, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, a sound that surprised even him.
“I guess I can’t argue with that.” he replied, his voice low, but there was warmth in it, the kind reserved only for you.
You tilted your head, studying him like he was one of your favorite puzzles to solve. “Well, whatever it is, you know I’m here, right? You don’t have to keep things to yourself.”
The sincerity in your eyes, in the way you said those words, nearly broke him. He swallowed hard, willing the emotions to stay under control. I know, he wanted to say. And that’s why this hurts so much.
“I know.” he said instead, and it was all he could manage. The truth weighed heavy on his tongue, but he bit it back, holding on to this moment instead; the warmth of your presence, the sound of your laughter lingering in the air.
For now, this was enough. He would live in the warmth of your voice calling his name, over and over, in this moment that felt like forever.
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HE ALREADY EXPECTED FOR THIS TO HAPPEN. Fushiguro Megumi came as soon as he got your call. How could he not show up? He had to. You needed him. More than ever, especially now. The moment he heard your shaky voice, his heart clenched with worry and anger. He had to get to you. He had to put his anger aside.
But he can't help it. He'd never liked him. That jerk of an ex-boyfriend of yours. And now all he could think is, how dare he break your heart? He was unworthy from the beginning and now he thinks he gets the right to you miserable?
His mind raced, weaving through every memory of seeing you smile, laugh, and light up at the smallest things, now replaced by the image of you in pain. Even that thought makes him even more angrier. He hated it. More than anything, more than you jerk of an ex-boyfriend.
Megumi felt like he was going to lose it. He always loses it when it comes to you. Everything about you was something that he felt like he had to cherish and treasure. And so, he bears everything about you, happiness or joy, as a part of him.
Because he loved you. More than anyone else in the world, he liked to believe. His love wasn’t flashy or loud; it was quiet, deep, and constant, like an unspoken promise woven through the moments you shared. 
And yet, people claimed to love you and then hurt you without a second thought. The unfairness of it all made his love even stronger, more resolute. It was a love that stayed in the silent spaces between words, in the way he noticed when you were tired, or remembered how you took your tea, or lingered on your laugh long after you’d left.
But saying it out loud? That was different. He didn’t think he could do that—not now, when you were hurting. Now, when the shattered pieces of your heart weren’t his to fix, but his to hold steady until you could piece them back together.
The rain came down harder as he found you, sitting alone on the cold, wet bench, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. Your hair was plastered to your face, water streaming down your cheeks, indistinguishable from your tears. You looked up when he called your name, and the raw anguish in your eyes made his breath hitch.
Everything was soaking through his jacket as he searched the park.  But he could care less. Not when he stood here, watching you continue to sit on the bench under the dim glow of a streetlight, your knees pulled to your chest and your shoulders trembling with silent sobs. The sight made something twist in his chest so fiercely it hurt.
“Hey.” he called softly as he approached, his voice steady but urgent. You didn’t look up, too lost in your world of hurt, raindrops mingling with the tears that fell freely down your cheeks.
“Megumi…….” Your voice cracked, barely audible over the pounding rain.
He dropped down in front of you without hesitation, his jeans soaking through as he knelt in the puddles. “Hey.” he whispered, reaching out to push a wet strand of hair away from your face. His touch was gentle, deliberate, as if afraid you’d break. 
“Are you alright?” The question was hollow, a placeholder for everything he couldn’t put into words.
A humorless laugh escaped your lips, bitter and fragile. “No. Not even close.”
Megumi’s jaw clenched. He wanted to say so much—that you deserved better, that he would give you the world if you let him, that he’d never let anyone hurt you if he could help it. But all he could do was cup your face in his hands, fingers warm against your chilled skin. 
“I’m here, okay?” he said, the words weighted with every unsaid promise. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”
You let out a shuddering breath, your eyes filling with fresh tears as you looked at him. His eyes, dark and fierce, were fixed on you with such intensity it made your chest ache in a different way, something softer, more hopeful. For a moment, the world around you blurred, the rain and cold forgotten in the heat of his gaze.
A fresh wave of tears welled up, but this time they weren’t just from pain. They were from the sheer relief of having him here, solid and real, when everything else felt like it was crumbling. He hated seeing you fall apart like this. He hated seeing you in so much grief about things you didn’t even need to grieve. 
“I can’t believe he—” You started, voice cracking, but Megumi cut you off with a shake of his head.
“No, no.” he said firmly, his dark eyes meeting yours with a fierce protectiveness. “You don’t deserve any of this. You deserve someone who would never make you feel this way.”
A shiver ran down your spine, part from the cold and part from the warmth in his voice. The rain dripped from his hair, tiny rivulets running down his face, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move. He just stayed there, eyes fixed on you like you were the only thing that mattered.
Slowly, you reached out and wrapped your arms around him, clinging tightly as if he was the last piece keeping you together. He pulled you close, the rain forgotten as he whispered, “I’ve got you. Always.”
“Why can’t everyone be like you, Megumi?” you whispered, the question hanging between you, filled with everything he couldn’t say.
He closed his eyes, the weight of his love pressing against his ribcage, aching to be let out. But he simply pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. 
“Maybe someday, I’m certain about it all.” he whispered. “You’ll see that some people are.”
In that moment, as he held you close under the downpour, Megumi vowed that even if he never said it out loud, you would always know it in the way he stayed. And as the storm raged on around you, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer.
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IF YOU WERE BEING HONEST, LIFE WAS GOOD NOW. And it was because you had Fushiguro Megumi. Around Megumi, for the first time that night, you felt a little bit safer. His presence anchored you, solid and reassuring, as if the world could rage on around you, but you’d be alright as long as he was there. 
The days that followed that stormy night were different. Your shared moments became longer, and your conversations deepened. You found yourself opening up to him in a way you hadn’t with anyone else, and he listened, offering small, thoughtful words that seemed to echo in your mind long after he said them.
Megumi and you became closer, like pieces of a puzzle finally finding their fit. You leaned on him more, seeking the comfort of his steady, unwavering support. Whether it was the simple act of sharing a quiet study session or walking side by side down the crowded school halls, you started to feel his presence as a constant, a pillar in your life. And with each passing moment, Megumi found himself falling deeper.
It was in the little things—the way your laughter returned, hesitant at first, then full and bright whenever he made a rare, dry joke. You’d throw your head back, eyes crinkled with genuine joy, and he’d pretend to be focused on something else just so he could hide his smile.
“You’re not even funny, you know that?” you teased one afternoon, nudging him with your shoulder as you both walked through the park, the sun filtering through the leaves.
“Oh? I didn’t know you laughed at unfunny things.” he replied, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips.
You rolled your eyes playfully. “I guess I make exceptions.”
It was also in the way your hand would find him during the quiet moments—when you both sat on the school steps, waiting for the last of the rain to clear, or when you talked late at night under a sky full of stars.
Your touch was unconscious, as if you didn’t realize the effect it had on him, but each time it sent warmth radiating through his chest, melting the layers of doubt he wore like armor.
One evening, as the sky painted itself in hues of pink and orange, you sat together on the small bench in your favorite park. The air was filled with the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of crickets. You turned to him, your eyes soft and thoughtful. 
“Do you ever wonder why some people come into your life at the exact moment you need them?”
He met your gaze, the question settling between you. His heart thudded, a mix of hope and nerves. “Yeah.” he said, his voice steady but quiet. “I think about it a lot.”
You tilted your head, studying him with a smile that made his pulse quicken. “I’m glad you’re in mine, Megumi.”
The simple statement was enough to send a rush of warmth flooding through him. He looked away, the hint of pink dusting his cheeks, and muttered, “Me too.”
Moments like these made him realize just how deeply he’d fallen for you. Fushiguro Tsumiki had caught on, of course. She knew Megumi best in the world. She’d grin knowingly whenever he brought up your name, and she wasn’t subtle about giving him nudges when you came over. Megumi thinks he would have no peace at home knowing all that.
“You need to tell them, your feelings.” she’d say with a pointed look. “They deserve to know.”
Gojo Satoru, in his typical flamboyant manner, took every opportunity to pester him. “If you don’t say something soon, I swear I’m going to set up a banner. ‘Confess, Megumi!’ at your school. It’ll be perfect. I’ll even use sparkles!” he’d joke, bright blue eyes gleaming with mischief.
Megumi would glare, a mix of irritation and anxiety bubbling inside him. But when he was alone, his mind would wander to the what-ifs. What if he told you, and everything changed? What if the easy moments between you became strained? He couldn’t stand the thought of losing this version of you, where your laughter was shared and your touch was easy.
One evening, when you were leaving after spending the day together, you turned back at the door, eyes bright. “Same time tomorrow?” you asked.
He nodded, feeling that familiar warmth bloom in his chest. “Yeah, same time.”
You beamed at him, that smile—the one that made him feel like maybe, just maybe, he had a chance. And as you walked away, Megumi felt the pull to call out, to say something, anything.
But the fear gripped him, held him back. For now, he’d stay in the safety of what you had, even as his heart whispered that someday soon, he’d need to be brave enough to reach for more.
And more and more, his sister and Gojo were starting to notice how he’s falling for you. Tsumiki noticed the way he watched you when he thought no one was looking, the way his eyes softened when you spoke. 
After dinner tonight, she caught him staring at his phone after reading a text from you, a small, knowing smile spread across her face. Megumi wasn’t even sure that he was that obvious. But he was.
Everyone was aware, more than he would have liked. It was his private life and yet, it was his own fault how it seeped in the real world. Yet, it was like that when it came to you. He can’t help it. 
“Megumi.” she said, leaning against the kitchen counter, “it’s high time you tell them how you feel.”
He looked up, startled. “What? No. It’s not… I mean—” He fumbled, cheeks turning red as he struggled to find an excuse.
Satoru, who had been lounging nearby and catching every word, let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. Megumi knew that Gojo Satoru was going to annoy him about this. Tsumiki is one thing. But that was his elder sister.
He was bound to just let her get into his life. But it was different when it came to their guardian. He was more of an annoying adult to Megumi. And he didn’t like how he touched his life like that. Even if he knew it was care.
“Kid, if you don’t confess, I’m going to make a banner and announce it to the entire school I teach at, when you visit.” he teased, eyes gleaming mischievously. “It’s so painfully obvious. Even the kids at the school picked up on that fact! Do you know how obvious you have to be that kid Todo picked up on?”
Megumi glared at him, but his usual annoyance didn’t stick. Instead, a flicker of anxiety gnawed at him, deep and stubborn. He knew Tsumiki and Gojo were right. He’d heard the whispers of his own heart long enough; he knew he was in love with you. But the idea of confessing it out loud? Of risking everything he already had with you? It paralyzed him.
“What if… what if it ruins things?” he muttered, looking down at his hands. The idea of you looking at him differently, of you stepping back, distancing yourself—it was unbearable. “What if they don’t feel the same? I don’t want to lose what we have now.”
Tsumiki’s smile softened, and she walked over, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Megumi, you’ll never know unless you try. And if they care about you even half as much as I think they do, nothing will change.”
Satoru chimed in with a rare moment of seriousness. “Megumi, you’re braver than you give yourself credit for. You’ve faced the worst of the world already with Tsumiki. But this? This is one small leap compared to that.”
The words made sense, but fear wrapped around his chest like a vise. Every time he opened his mouth to tell you, doubt clawed its way in. He could picture the worst: your kind eyes turning sad, the warmth between you cooling into awkward silence.
But as days passed and your laughter echoed in his ears, each missed opportunity stung. Every time you looked at him with that bright smile, it chipped away at his fear, replacing it with a longing stronger than any curse he’d faced. And Megumi knew, deep down, that he couldn’t put it off forever.
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IT WAS A RARE DAY OFF FROM SCHOOL. So, it was easy for you to come and call Megumi to hang out. Megumi was someone who had a hard time going with the flow of things. He liked order in his life. But when he is with you, everything is unpredictable.
Everything was a surprise. And so he enjoyed it. He enjoyed letting you wreck his life into things he couldn’t predict. Chaos is livable when he was next to you. And perhaps, you knew that more than he did.  
And today’s request was to go to a skate park. You didn’t know how to skate, nor do you have the balance that allowed you to do so. But you saw an ad for it and you thought that trying was something that would be enjoyable for the two of you. So, Megumi sighed. But he nodded and immediately walked as you practically hopped to the booth where they rented out their skates.
The skate park was buzzing with life when you and Megumi arrived, the warm glow of the setting sun casting a golden hue over everything. Laughter and the sound of wheels on concrete filled the air as you glanced nervously at the smooth expanse of the park. Megumi noticed your hesitation and smirked, handing you a helmet.
“Don’t worry, okay?” he said, voice soft and reassuring. “I’ll be here the whole time. Just hold on if you need to.”
You nodded, cheeks warming at the idea. The two of you stepped onto the rink, and you immediately reached out, grabbing his arm for balance. He tensed slightly at the contact but relaxed when he saw the nervous smile on your face.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.
“Ready.” you replied, even though your heart was thumping wildly in your chest.
The first few minutes were shaky. You wobbled and stumbled, and every time you did, Megumi’s arm was there, strong and steady. His hand eventually found its way to yours, fingers intertwining as he guided you along, step by careful step.
The warmth of his touch sent a pleasant jolt up your spine, and you couldn’t help but glance at him, noticing how focused he looked, his hair slightly messy from the helmet. You could feel yourself looking at him for a while and then becoming flustered when he looks back at you.
“You’re doing great.” he said, a rare smile appearing as you both glided a little more smoothly across the rink.
“Thanks to you!” you laughed breathlessly, holding on tightly when you hit a slight dip.
He steadied you immediately, the closeness making your heart stutter. His eyes met yours for a brief moment, dark and intense under the rink’s twinkling lights, and you felt a rush of something that made your stomach flutter.
As the sky darkened into twilight, the skate park began to empty, and an announcement boomed over the loudspeakers. “The park will be closing in fifteen minutes.”
You sighed, a little disappointed that the night was coming to an end. “I guess that’s it for tonight, huh?” you said, a wistful note in your voice.
Megumi nodded and helped you off the rink, his hand lingering on yours a moment longer than necessary. You sat on a nearby bench, taking off your helmets and catching your breath. The sounds around you faded as you felt the cool evening air settle around you both.
“You know…..” Megumi started, his tone unusually hesitant. He looked at you, eyes searching yours as if gathering the courage to speak. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea, teaching you how to skate. But I’m glad we did it.”
You tilted your head, curiosity sparking in your gaze. “Why wouldn’t it be a good idea?”
He exhaled, a subtle tremor in his voice as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Because… being this close to you makes it hard to keep things to myself.”
Your heart skipped a beat, and your brows knit together slightly. “Megumi?”
He looked away, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “I think—I know that I’m in love with you.”
The confession hung in the air, suspended between you as the world seemed to stand still. He winced, realizing what he’d just said, and moved to apologize, but your soft gasp interrupted him.
“You… you’re in love with me?” you repeated, eyes wide and cheeks turning rosy.
His breath caught, and he nodded slowly. “Yeah. I know it’s sudden, and I don’t want things to change if you don’t feel the same. But I couldn’t keep pretending that I don’t—”
Before he could finish, you leaned in, pressing your forehead to his, your eyes glistening. “I do. I feel the same way, Megumi.” you whispered, a smile breaking through as his eyes widened.
The tension melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and warmth. He let out a breathy chuckle, the sound rare and real. “You do?” he asked, almost as if needing to hear it again.
You nodded, your fingers finding him and squeezing them tightly. “Yes, I do.”
The skate park around you was closing, but neither of you noticed. For now, the world shrank to just the two of you, illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights and the lingering thrill of confessions finally shared.
Megumi's surprise softened into a smile, rare and full of something warm and unguarded. He still held your hands, fingers intertwined as if anchoring himself to this moment, the world around you blurring into a comforting haze.
The distant sounds of closing gates and murmurs of the last stragglers leaving the park faded away, leaving only the two of you under the soft, golden streetlights. Yet that all faded to the background. All you could do was focus on the warmth in Megumi's beautiful blue-green orbs. All you could think about was how the world felt brighter when he was by your side.
“Say it again, please.” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if part of him still couldn’t believe it.
You laughed, the sound light and full of joy as you leaned in a little closer. “I love you, Megumi. For a while now. I love you then and now.” you said, your eyes searching his face to catch every flicker of emotion. 
The way his lips parted slightly, the way his eyes softened as if he could melt under those words. Everything about it had made your heart flutter even more. You like to think he was just good at that. He swallowed, unable to suppress the smile that stretched across his face. 
“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” he admitted, his voice rough but sincere.
“Probably about as long as I’ve wanted to say it.” you teased, nudging him playfully. He chuckled, the sound deep and unfamiliar even to him, and you couldn’t help but notice how it made him look so much more at ease. “I’m sorry if I took a long while.”
The cool breeze picked up, rustling the leaves in the nearby trees, and you shivered involuntarily. Without thinking, Megumi slipped out of his jacket and draped it around your shoulders, his hands lingering at the collar to pull it snug. The fabric smelled like him; fresh and warm, with a hint of something you couldn’t quite place but that was uniquely Megumi.
“Thank you.” you said, your voice soft. Your eyes met his, and the look you exchanged was filled with so many unsaid words, promises and relief, all bundled together in a way that made your chest ache in the best way.
He glanced down, a subtle blush creeping up his neck. “We should probably get going before they lock us in.” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.
You nodded, but neither of you made a move to stand just yet. You both sat in that quiet moment for a little longer, soaking in the newness of what had just unfolded. Finally, Megumi stood up and offered you his hand, a small smile playing at his lips as he pulled you to your feet.
“Let’s get you home.” he said, the weight of the evening settling comfortably between you as you walked away from the now-closed skate park, your hands still intertwined.
As you strolled through the quiet streets, the gentle hum of the city wrapping around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him. There was a contentment in his expression, a relaxed curve to his mouth that spoke of unguarded happiness.
“What are you thinking about?” you asked, nudging him lightly.
He glanced at you, eyes soft under the glow of the streetlights. “How I’m going to make sure I never keep something like that from you again.”
The sincerity in his voice made your heart swell, and you smiled, leaning against him as you walked. “Good.” you said. “Because I plan on telling you every day.”
And as the two of you continued on into the night, the air between you felt different—not just safe, but full of new possibilities, laughter, and love that was finally yours to share.
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EVERYTHING HAPPENS AND CHANGES ALL THE TIME. You and Megumi were the happiest you’d ever been for a long time. Moving into the city had felt like an unspoken promise, a step forward toward a shared future.
A bright beautiful future that had once been only whispers in the quiet of your conversations. Together, you carved out a life in the heart of the bustling city, with its endless hum of activity and its ever-changing face. 
You found an apartment that felt like it belonged to both of you. The floors creaked underfoot, their sound a reminder of the stories they held, the small, quiet moments of shared joy and unspoken understanding.
Big windows let the sunlight pour in during the mornings, catching the dust in beams of gold as you sat side by side with your coffee. The place was imperfect, but in that imperfection, it was beautiful, just like your life together.
Your days were spent in a rhythm that had once been in sync, the sounds of laughter and comfortable silence filling the air. You’d talk about everything and nothing at all. Sometimes, it was about the art you were working on, the colors you’d used, or the gallery you were preparing for. 
Other times, it was about his latest case, his eyes alight with the thrill of a challenge. You would stay up late, your feet tangled together under the blanket as you exchanged stories of the day, dreams for the future, and the occasional silly moment of laughter.
But, as the years passed, everything started to shift, imperceptible at first, like the gradual turning of the pages in a book you thought you knew so well. The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now became the thing that kept you apart. 
The rhythm of your lives grew more erratic. Megumi, with his sharp mind and steady resolve, excelled in the high-stakes world of law. His career took off with rather good ease, and he quickly found himself buried in cases, depositions, meetings, and late-night strategizing. He became the star of the law firm he worked for. Everything was great for him. 
You could see it in the crease of his brow, the way he stayed up into the early hours of the morning to prepare for court, his suit always a little wrinkled, his tie always a little loose, but his focus razor-sharp.
His world was all deadlines, high-profile clients, and courtroom battles that never seemed to stop. He thrived in it; he was good at it, brilliant even—but it took him away from you, slowly but surely.
You, too, threw yourself into your work, determined to build something of your own, to carve out your place in a world that sometimes felt like it was moving too fast for you. Your art became your refuge, the studio your sanctuary.
The city, with its mix of people, cultures, and experiences, was your muse. You found inspiration in the chaos and the beauty that wove through every street, every corner, every passerby. 
But the more you painted, the more you found yourself lost in the solitude of it all. Late nights in galleries preparing for shows or days in the studio felt like your only real connection to the world.
Your mind was constantly racing with ideas, concepts, colors that needed to be captured before they slipped away. Your hands, once so used to holding his, now spent more time wrapped around a paintbrush than around his.
And so, the distance between you grew. The gap that once felt small, just a quiet space between moments, now felt insurmountable. You would come home to an empty apartment, the silence of it pressing in on you. Megumi would still be at the office, still lost in the whirlwind of his cases, his phone buzzing with messages that had to be answered immediately. 
You’d sit at the table, dinner half-eaten, waiting for him to walk through the door, but he rarely came home before midnight. When he did, he’d be tired, exhausted, really and you’d try your best to carry the conversation, but the words never came as easily as they once had. 
He’d ask about your day, but his eyes would already be half-closed, his attention already elsewhere. You’d tell him about the gallery event or the new piece you were working on, but his responses would be short, distracted. Everything else besides his work became second. Everything else started to fade away into the background. Even you.
The moments that once felt so natural disappeared into the fog. You had always, the both of you, understood each other without speaking. But soon enough, everything began to feel strained, stretched thin under the weight of your respective worlds. You’d lie awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, listening to his breathing beside you, as he focused on reading case files on bed. Every night was like this. 
It felt like he was a million miles away. You couldn’t reach him. You couldn’t feel him. It was like he wasn’t there. And that broke your heart over and over. Because all you wanted was him. Yet you couldn’t even have that. You couldn’t even have a moment. You couldn’t win. Not against fate itself.
There was no more laughter, no more stolen moments of joy in the middle of a busy day. It was as if the world around you was moving faster than you could keep up with, and you and Megumi were just trying to hold on to what little of each other remained.
The city, which had once been your shared adventure, now felt like a vast, indifferent landscape, a place where the two of you had become lost. And no matter how hard you tried to cling to the life you’d built, the distance between you was undeniable. It became this seesaw game. Both of you are waiting for someone to step out of it. 
The silence grew, and the cracks started to form. Megumi, buried in his work, became more distant, his tired eyes unable to meet yours for longer than a few moments.
And you lost in the world of your art, your mind constantly in motion could just feel like it began to feel as though you couldn’t do anything but chase. You were chasing something that would always stay just out of reach. You were chasing a ghost. 
In the stillness of those long, lonely nights, you began to wonder how it all had slipped away so quietly. You had promised each other that nothing would come between you that no matter how much life changed, you’d always have each other. But promises, like time, sometimes slip through your fingers, and before you knew it, you were both holding on to something that wasn’t there anymore.
And it hurt more than anything you’d ever known.
The times when your paths crossed grew fewer, and each time they did, it felt more like a fleeting moment you couldn’t quite hold on to. Mornings that once held the warmth of shared cups of coffee and quiet conversation were now replaced with hurried mornings. 
That quick abrupt hum of the alarm clock pulling you out of bed faster than you could stretch. You’d barely exchange more than a quick kiss goodbye as you rushed out the door, his briefcase already in hand, your mind already occupied with the tasks of the day ahead.
The breakfasts that had once been filled with laughter, with soft smiles and small talk about what lay ahead, had transformed into something mechanical. You’d grab your coffee, he’d grab his briefcase, and you’d both be off, each of you retreating into your own world before the day even began.
Evenings weren’t much better. The quiet, intimate moments you’d shared over dinner, the kind that had made your world feel so right, had all but disappeared. Now, there were nights when you would come home to find him already asleep on the couch, his suit still on, papers scattered around him like a battlefield. 
His face was soft with exhaustion, the tension in his body unmistakable even in sleep. His tie was loosened, his shirt wrinkled, but still, he’d sleep through it all, the weight of the day too heavy for him to shed. And he wouldn’t notice that look in your eyes. That sadness you couldn’t help but carry for this doomed relationship.
You’d watch him for a moment, your heart aching at the sight, but then you’d quietly tiptoe past him, too tired yourself to wake him. The faint sound of his breathing was the only noise in the apartment, and you’d retreat into your own solitude, thinking maybe tomorrow would be different.
Sometimes, you’d come home after a late gallery event, the city lights outside your window blurred in the reflection of the glass. You’d see the faint glow from his office, a soft halo of light against the shadows.
He wouldn’t even notice how your presence creaked the wooden doors open. He wouldn’t even budge at the sound of your keys clanking. Or your familiar footsteps merging with the mahogany ground. He wouldn’t notice a damn thing.
But you would notice everything about him. Fushiguro Megumi would still be sitting there, case files spread out on the desk, his eyes glazed from hours of staring at legal jargon that never seemed to make sense. You’d try to keep the frustration at bay, try to remind yourself that this was just temporary, that everything would settle soon. 
But every time you’d reach out your hand and you would ask.
“Do you want to take a break? Maybe we can grab dinner?” 
Sometimes you wish you didn't ask. 
Because his response would be the same.
“I can’t tonight. Too much work.”
And you’d nod, the words dying in your throat, as you retreated again, feeling the ache in your chest grow with every passing day. The apartment, once a place of warmth and shared moments, now felt cold and empty, no matter how many art pieces you filled it with. It was just you, and him, but you were worlds apart.
And then the fights started.
They were small at first—an offhand comment here, a sigh there, barely even loud enough to be called a fight. But they were enough. The tension built in the small spaces between words, in the way you’d avoid eye contact when you both spoke. You’d complain about him missing dinner again, how you’d waited hours for him to come home, only for him to slip quietly into bed without saying a word.
“I can’t be in two places at once, you know that.” he’d reply, his voice tight, a trace of guilt mixed with irritation in his words. “You knew what I was getting into when I started this job.”
And you knew, deep down, you had known. But that didn’t make it any easier. The dinners you’d missed together, the quiet evenings you spent alone, your frustrations, your loneliness. It all built up until it couldn’t be ignored any longer. You tried to be patient. But you know that patience always has an expiration date. And yours had started to tick, like a bomb just waiting for the right time waiting to explode.
Everything felt useless now. Everything was one blow away from cracking down. The things you used to say to each other, the things that had made you feel so close, now felt hollow and distant. The love that had once been so certain now felt strained, fragile, as though it might crumble at any moment.
One evening, after a particularly grueling week for both of you, you came home from a late gallery event to find Megumi at the dining table, his tie loosened and his hair disheveled, the dark circles under his eyes deeper than usual.
He had papers scattered everywhere, the remnants of his latest case still strewn across the table like debris from a battle he couldn’t quite win. He didn’t even look up when you entered, his focus entirely on the papers in front of him.
“Another late night?” he asked, not even looking up from the papers in front of him.
“Yeah.” you said shortly, trying to keep the frustration out of your voice. “Like every other night.”
He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “We never see each other anymore.”
“Whose fault is that?” you shot back before you could stop yourself. The room felt colder immediately, your own words stinging in the silence that followed.
“You know this is important, both our careers are.” he said, voice strained, but his tone didn’t soothe the growing ache in your chest.
“And what about us, Megumi? When did we stop being important?”
He looked up at you, eyes tired but holding that glimmer of hurt. “We are. We’re just… trying to keep up.”
“It doesn’t feel like we’re keeping up.” you whispered, eyes starting to sting with tears. “It feels like we’re falling apart.”
The silence that settled was heavy, pressing down on both of you. He stood up, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident. “What do you want me to do? Stop working? This is what I have to do. You know that.”
“And this is what I have to do.” you said, gesturing to your art supplies strewn around the room. “But we’re not making it work, Megumi. We’re barely making it through the day without fighting.”
He looked at you then, truly looked at you, and for a moment, his expression softened, a flicker of the old Megumi shining through. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by the weight of reality.
There was panic in the way he looked at you. You felt a bile form at your throat. You knew what it looked like. He was realizing it. He saw that sadness in your eyes. The sadness that he had hated so much on you, he had caused it on you. 
“I don’t know how to fix this. I….” he said, his voice low and raw. “Babe, I’m so sorry—”
You took a shaky breath, the words you’d been avoiding suddenly tumbling out. “Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t try to fix it anymore. I’m tired of all this, Megumi. I am….I am genuinely exhausted from trying to make it work.”
“Babe, listen we can talk this out and we can make it work. I know we can. We—”
“Maybe we should break up.”
The room went still, the echo of your words ringing louder than anything else. His blue–gren eyes widened, a mix of disbelief and hurt coloring his features. Those words were the hardest you could ever say.
But perhaps it was the right words to say. Because he looked at you for the first time ever and finally, he saw you. He finally sees you, after such a long nightmare. 
“You don’t mean that. You—” he said, almost pleadingly, stepping closer.
“I do.” you said, voice breaking. “I can’t take this anymore, Megumi. We’re just making each other miserable, and it’s not fair to either of us.”
His shoulders sagged, and for the first time in a long while, he looked defeated. He reached out, almost as if he wanted to pull you back into a time when things were easier, when love was all you needed to bridge any gap.
But he stopped himself, letting his hand fall to his side. A sad small smile dances on your lips, biting them soon after. You could feel the tears fall from your weary eyes.
You were tired of fighting for something he couldn’t. You were tired of doing it by yourself. And he knew that. He knew that all too well. There were no other ways for him to stop you from leaving him, from leaving all this pain behind. Pain he had caused you over and over again. Pain that would scar you for as long as you lived.
“I don’t want to lose you.” he said softly, eyes glistening with unshed tears. 
You looked away, fighting the sob that threatened to break free. “I don’t want to lose you either. But we’re already losing each other.”
The words were so raw, so full of meaning, that it made your heart ache. But you could feel the wall between you two now, the one that you’d both been building without realizing it. You both don’t know your place in this relationship. You have outgrown it and it wasn’t even both your faults. It just….is life.
“I don’t want to lose you either, you know that.” you said, your voice shaking. “But I don’t know how to fix this, Megumi. I don’t know if I can keep waiting for you to come home when you’re already gone.”
The silence that fell over the two of you was deafening. The room felt colder, the space between you growing with every word that went unsaid. You stared at each other, both lost in the same silence, both unsure of where to go from here. The city outside continued to hum, oblivious to the cracks that were starting to form in the life you’d once built so carefully together.
The silence this time, it felt final. And as you both stood there, the city’s lights flickering through the window, you realized that sometimes love isn’t enough to fight against the things that pull you apart.
There were city lights, lights brighter than anything else. It was like the universe was here, and the stars beamed towards you both, like lovers. And yet, you were everything but in that moment. You were two people who finally saw the seesaw needs to fall down.
“I’ll pack my things.” You say to him, smiling ever sadder than before. “I’ll stay with a friend tonight. And…I’ll come back for my things.”
He doesn’t say another word. But you can tell. He was close to crying. Yet he gives you one singular nod as you slowly walk towards him and place your hand on his cheek. As though it was the last time you would ever touch him.
He looks up from his gaze on the ground, trying to memorize this image of you. You can tell there was desperation. What if he doesn’t see you again? What does he do?
“I loved you so much.” You said, the past tense making him flinch slightly. It was the hardest word to even pronounce. It  felt harder to say five words than the usual three. “I still do. But…I have to go. For our sake.”
“Don’t….” He whispers weakly. “Don’t tell me this, not after we just….”
“Goodbye, Megumi.” You tell him, with finality. A smile blunt on your face, trying to make this memory redeemable. “I hope you live a long and happy life.”
When you walked out, the city lights looked at you and blinked.
And yet, Fushiguro Megumi felt like he didn’t know what to do.
But he doesn’t stop you as you walk away, taking warmth away.
He lets you go, because loving you meant living without you too.
That was the risk of loving someone, that was the risk of living in love.
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A LOT CAN HAPPEN WHEN YOU BLINK. And that’s what happened. He didn’t expect it to happen, change will always have permanence. As much as time. Both are uncontrollable forces of nature. And he hated it.
It’s been five years now since you and Megumi had last stood on solid ground together, since the life you built had slowly crumbled under the weight of work, time, and distance. 
The memory of your arguments, your silences, still lingered in the back of his mind like a distant ache, a reminder of what once was and what was no longer. But time had done little to heal that wound.
In fact, Fushiguro Megumi had become even more entrenched in his work, burying himself in his career as a lawyer, trying to forget that, in the end, he had lost the one person who meant the most to him.
Now, sitting in a sterile hospital room, the smell of antiseptic burning his nose, he felt like he was living in a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. His eyes were locked onto the doctor in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere, still processing what had just been said. The words hung in the air, thick with finality.
“Mr. Fushiguro, the test results confirm that you’ve inherited a hereditary condition from your father. It’s genetic and unfortunately, there's no cure.”
The doctor’s voice was calm, clinical, as though she were explaining a minor inconvenience, as though it was him talking to the jury at court. But Fushiguro Megumi heard nothing but the echo of his own heartbeat thundering in his ears. 
He could barely process the words, the shock still settling in his chest. He hadn’t expected this. He’d always heard whispers about his father, that old man. Megumi didn’t care when he left. He still had Tsumiki. And then he had Gojo and then….. 
Megumi stops himself. He frowns deeper. He was not having the best of luck in lif. He likes to think he never has. Now, he is haunted and suffers more about this man who left them. He has to come back in the form of this stupid illness.
This stupid illness that would now be killing him slowly and fully. He wants to laugh out loud. Because, this was something else entirely. How cruel fate can be. How much of a comedy it is, how much of a stupid thing it is.
He leaned back in the chair, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. The room seemed to tilt around him, the walls closing in, suffocating him. A laugh threatened to slip from his lips, but it did.
Everything about it wasn’t one of humor. It was jagged and bitter, a laugh born of frustration, anger, and the overwhelming sense of betrayal that had simmered in his chest for years.
His blue–green gaze didn’t leave the doctor, but his eyes darkened towards the doctor. The doctor seemed to be unfazed by his reaction. Megumi felt like he was the same as the doctor when he was at court sometimes. Those cases don’t faze him. 
He had seen it all. And everyone had gotten mad at him at times too. And yet there was only disbelief now. He was on the other side of the aisle now. There was only surprise and then anguish and then bitterness. All of that didn’t taste good in his mouth.
“So, let me get this straight, doctor.” he began, his voice tight, almost controlled, but with an edge of fury beneath it. “My father, the man who abandoned me and Tsumiki after Mom died, is now showing up in my life, and now I’m supposed to care that I’ve inherited something from him? Something that’s going to kill me?”
The doctor faltered for a second, clearly caught off guard by the venom in his voice, but she remained professional. “It’s not quite like that, Mr. Fushiguro. Your father may not have been around, but—”
“No.” he cut her off, his fist clenching in his lap. “Don’t give me that. Don’t try to justify him. You think I care about a condition that’s been passed down through the blood of someone who doesn’t even care enough to be there when I need him?” 
“Mr. Fushiguro, please—”
His laugh returned, sharp and hollow, a bitter sound that didn’t belong in a place like this. “I never even wanted to know him. I was better off without him. And now that old man comes back. Oh god, what a fucking mess! What a comedy!”
His mind raced, the thoughts swirling in a chaotic dance of anger and disbelief. His father had left him and Tsumiki in the wake of their mother’s death, promising them nothing but silence. And he was bears with it. He always did. He always knew how to get on with life. That’s how he came to be where he is now. 
But he can’t help it. How could he? All that misery he had buried as a child comes back once more. He had thought it would never come back to the earth again. Everything about it was just as good as dead to him.
And yet, fate laughs at him. He laughs at how easy it is to push Megumi’s buttons. And he knew Megumi would react. Fate loved games and he would continue on and on, until he was satisfied. 
“You said it’s genetic, right?” he asked suddenly, his voice a little more brittle, the edge of his anger still cutting through the words. “How long do I have?”
The doctor looked at him with sympathy, but Megumi didn’t want sympathy. He didn’t want the pity in her eyes. He didn’t want any of this.
“It depends on the progression of the disease.” she answered carefully, giving him the facts. “It could take years. Maybe even months. We do not know. But knowing some cases I’ve seen, It could be faster. We can try treatments, but we can’t reverse the damage already done.”
Megumi closed his blue–green eyes for a moment, his chest tightening. The realization hit him with full force: his life, the one he had built, the work, the efforts to stay busy, to keep going. None of it had prepared him for this. 
None of it had prepared him for the idea that he might not have much time left. How is he going to tell Tsumiki or Gojo? How could he prepare them for this? And to make matters worse, it was a legacy that had come from the very man who had never been there for him in the first place.
His laugh died in his throat, leaving a hollow emptiness in its wake.
“Tell me this is some kind of mistake.” he muttered under his breath, as though saying the words would somehow make them untrue.
The doctor’s eyes softened, but she shook her head, handing him a folder with the test results. “I’m afraid it’s not.”
The weight of it all pressed down on him, his mind spinning. He stood abruptly, shoving the folder into his bag without a second glance, his hands trembling slightly. He couldn’t stay here. He needed to leave. He needed to get out of this sterile room before it suffocated him any further.
As he walked out of the hospital, the cool air of the evening hit him, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside him. He couldn’t help but wonder about it. What was the point of this? What was the point of surviving a life without a father only to be cursed with his legacy, a legacy that had already been stained with abandonment? What did it all mean?
He didn’t have the answers. But one thing was clear. He would never be able to look at his father the same way again. And now, he’d have to face the consequences of that. Whether he liked it or not. One way or another, it was just how it works. Fushiguro Megumi has to see that life goes on. It always has. Even in the face of death.
Yet for a moment, even if he has resigned himself to fate, he stops. 
He stops for a moment and thinks to himself and that warmth returns.
He wishes that  for what remains of life — he wished you were there with him.
Fushiguro Megumi wishes that he could see your smile and live in it again.
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HE FOUND HIMSELF DISASSOCIATING FOR A COUPLE OF MINUTES. But after news like that, who wouldn’t find themselves despondent. Megumi Fushiguro wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing in the hospital lobby. He’d left the doctor’s office a while ago, but his feet felt frozen to the ground, the weight of everything pressing down on him. 
His thoughts felt scrambled, and all he wanted was to get out of there, away from the sterile white walls, away from the suffocating reality of the diagnosis. The last thing he expected was to run into someone, you—after all this time.
But there you were, standing at the hospital’s entrance, your hair a little longer, your eyes just as bright, the warmth of your smile still able to stop his heart dead in its tracks. He hadn’t expected it. Not in such a place. And yet here you were. He hadn’t expected to see you here, of all places. After all, you took care of yourself well. But there you were, as beautiful and alive as ever.
At first, Megumi wasn’t sure what to do. Should he approach you? Should he pretend everything was fine? There was so much that had passed between you, so many years, so much silence.
And he couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late for him to fix things. But before he could make any decision, you were already walking toward him, your gaze locking onto his like it always had when you were younger.
“Megumi.” you said softly, almost hesitantly, as though you weren’t sure how to say his name anymore.
You were still the same, and yet, you weren’t. Your voice was familiar, but the years between you had made things feel… off, awkward in a way that he hadn’t expected.
“Hey.” he said, his voice almost gruff, unsure of how to speak to you after so long.
He took a step back, unsure whether to smile, to say something casual. It was almost like he didn’t know who he was around you anymore. The man who used to be able to talk to you about anything had disappeared somewhere along the way.
You smiled, though, and for a brief moment, Megumi felt like he could breathe again. “What are you doing here? Don’t tell me you're here for a checkup too. You look fine to me.” you teased, and there was that playful spark in your eyes that he had missed.
Megumi shifted, looking around, as though searching for an answer that didn’t exist. The truth was, he didn’t want to tell you why he was here. Not yet. Not when he had no idea how to explain the mess his life had become.
“I’m just here… taking care of some stuff.” he muttered, the lie slipping out before he could stop it. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the tension build again. “You know, business stuff.”
You raised an eyebrow, a knowing look crossing your face, but instead of pressing him further, you just shrugged. “Well, I’m not here for anything too serious. Just visiting a friend.”
"Oh, I see."
Your gaze softened as you spoke, the smile on your face softening the more you looked at him. "I didn’t expect to see you here. Not after all this time."
Megumi nodded, biting his lip. No kidding, he thought to himself. The years had passed, but he hadn’t expected it to feel like this. He hadn’t expected to feel so... unsure. He wasn’t used to this distance between you two. Not like this.
“Well....” you said, after a pause. You rubbed the back of your neck. “Do you want to grab dinner or something? I don’t know about you, but I could really use some decent food after dealing with all this hospital nonsense.”
At first, Megumi hesitated, unsure if he should take the invitation. But something about the ease in your voice, the casual familiarity of it, made him relent. “Sure. I guess I could go for something... edible.” he said, trying to joke, but it came out more stiff than he wanted.
You laughed, the sound of it bringing back memories of the good old days when life was simpler and he didn’t have to carry the weight of unspoken words between you. You waved him off, but there was something in your eyes, something gentle and patient, like you weren’t rushing him to explain himself.
The two of you walked out of the hospital together, falling into step like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was awkward at first, the silence between you hanging heavy, but as you got settled at the restaurant, everything started to fall back into place.
You ordered something light, and Megumi, on autopilot, ordered something simple—a dish he could eat quickly. The waiter left, and for a moment, the two of you sat in silence, not quite knowing how to bridge the gap that had been there for years.
“So…..” you began, after a while, trying not to be awkward. “Why were you at the hospital? Don’t tell me you have a broken bone or something.”
Megumi’s eyes flickered over to you, and he was about to brush it off, to avoid answering; like he always did when it came to anything about his past, about his father.  He hoped you weren’t noticing it. He hoped that you weren’t able to see through him again.
But before he could think of a way out, he realized something: you weren’t just anyone. You were you—the person who knew him better than anyone. The person he had lost, the person who had been there for him when everything else fell apart. You had and always will know more about him than anyone else. Even if he doesn’t say anything.
He exhaled slowly, and then, without thinking, he shrugged and said, “I guess you could say I’m getting some bad news.”
You furrowed your brow in concern, and before you could ask, he let out a dry laugh, something hollow that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious.”
You shook your head, already knowing where this was headed. “Megumi, your jokes are still as bad as they were when we were kids.” You leaned back in your seat with a fond smile, your eyes soft. “You’re impossible.”
He chuckled under his breath, feeling some of the weight lift off his chest. The familiar rhythm of teasing, of falling back into old patterns, felt surprisingly good. His heart, which had felt heavy and weighed down for so long, was starting to feel lighter with each passing moment.
“You should’ve known,” Megumi muttered, trying to hide the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’m the best at bad jokes.”
You laughed again, the sound like music to his ears. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you say, Fushiguro.”
For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax a little. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to fix what had been broken. Maybe, just maybe, he could find his way back to the person who used to be everything to him.
But for now, he would take the little moments like this—the laughter, the shared memories, and the warmth of simply being in your presence again. Everything felt like the sun had shone on earth again. Everything felt right like this.
And, for once, he wasn’t afraid of what came next.
Fushiguro Megumi sat back in his chair, watching you as you laughed, as you teased him, and it felt like the whole world faded away for a few moments. For the first time in months, his chest didn’t feel so tight, his mind didn’t feel so heavy.
The hospital, the test results, the news about his father; they all felt like distant memories, like something that could be put on the shelf and forgotten for a while. Because in this moment, right now, the only thing that mattered was you.
He liked this. He liked the way your eyes sparkled when you smiled, the way you still knew how to make him laugh even when everything inside him ached. There was a calmness, a sense of peace, in being around you that he hadn’t felt in years. 
The world around him had become chaotic, unpredictable, but here at this small, unassuming restaurant, sharing a quiet dinner with you. Everything about it, it made him feel… warm inside. It felt like coming home, after a long time away from it.
As the conversation flowed easily between you two, Megumi found himself watching the way you moved, the way you spoke, the way you were still you. It was like nothing had changed, like time hadn’t passed at all. Except it had. 
Five years had come and gone, and he had spent most of them buried in work, in his own personal mess of anger and hurt, while you had lived your own life. But now, seeing you here, smiling at him like this, it was like he had been given something precious he hadn’t realized he’d lost: you.
And then it hit him. That sharp pang of realization.
He was dying.
In a few months, his life, everything he had worked for, everything he had wanted, would be over. And the one thing he had always wanted, the one thing that had never wavered was sitting right across from him, smiling at him like he was everything.
You, the person he had spent his whole life running from, running toward, the person who had always been there.
And now, here you were again.
His heart skipped a beat as he processed it all.  It was all coming at him fast, like a car speeding fast towards him. He doesn’t know what to do, how to do it. Everything overwhelmed him. But then again, he thinks he’s always felt like this when it came to you. He can’t deny that whatsoever. 
Everything made him feel like a boy again. All these feelings he can’t describe makes him so overwhelmed with what life means. How much he had missed you, how much he still needed you in his life, they all started to make him wonder about it all. 
The joke, the casual teasing, the familiar warmth between you two—it was what he wanted. It was what he had always wanted. He had never allowed himself to admit it fully, not back then, not when you were both young and carefree. But now, with the weight of his diagnosis hanging over him like a dark cloud, he couldn’t deny it any longer.
It wasn’t just that he wanted to be around you. No, it was more than that. He needed to be around you, to feel your presence, your warmth, your love. The idea that he might never get to hold you close again after all this time made his chest tighten in a way he couldn’t put into words.
You caught his gaze, your smile faltering just for a moment. “Hey, are you okay?” you asked, the concern in your voice immediate and genuine. “You’ve been quiet all of a sudden.”
Megumi blinked, realizing he had zoned out. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, sorry. Just… thinking.”
You didn’t look convinced, but you didn’t press. Instead, you took a sip of your drink, then set it down, eyes watching him carefully. “I get that a lot lately,” you said, half-joking, half-serious. “I tend to get lost in my head too.”
He chuckled softly, trying to push away the heaviness that was creeping back into his thoughts. But it was hard. It was hard when every little thing in this moment reminded him of what he was going to lose.
He didn’t know how much time he had left. And that thought scared him more than anything. But what scared him even more was the idea of never telling you how he truly felt, never having the chance to fully be with you.
“So, what about you?” Megumi asked, his voice quieter than before. “How’s life been? Really, how are you?”
You blinked at him, clearly taken aback by the change in tone. “You know, same as usual. Gallery events, late nights at the studio… You know, the usual chaos,” you said with a small smile. But then, you tilted your head. “And you? You’ve been working so much, Megumi. You’ve been pushing yourself.”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I have,” he admitted. “It’s just… it’s easier, you know? To bury myself in work rather than deal with what’s going on in my head.”
There it was. The truth, just slipping out. His chest tightened again, the weight of everything catching up to him. You watched him with soft eyes, but you didn’t say anything. You just waited, patiently, for him to continue.
“I think…” He hesitated, unsure of how to say it, unsure if he even had the right to say it now. But his heart was screaming at him to be honest, to be real with you. “I think I’ve been afraid for a long time. Afraid of how I feel about you. I never said it before… but I think I’ve always loved you, even when I couldn’t show it.”
Your eyes softened, your lips parted in surprise, but no words came out. Megumi could feel his heart pounding in his chest as the silence stretched on.
“I’ve always loved you, you know?” he repeated, the words stronger this time. “And… I know it’s late. I know it’s probably too late, but I want you to know. I want you to know that I needed you. That I want to spend whatever time I have left with you. Whatever time I can get.”
His voice faltered as the confession hung in the air, and the weight of it felt almost unbearable. But then, slowly, you reached across the table, your hand gently landing on his.
“I never stopped loving you either, Megumi. I hope you know that.” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “I’ve missed you. I’ve missed this. I’ve missed us.”
The words hit him like a wave, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could breathe again. Like everything wasn’t falling apart. Maybe, just maybe, the time that was slipping away didn’t matter as long as he could be with you in these final months, these final moments. He looked at you, the warmth of your hand in his, and a fragile smile tugged at his lips.
“Then let’s make the most of it.” he whispered. “Even if we start out again and be friends first. I’d love to make the most of it.”
You smiled at him warmly in response. “I’d like that too.”
And for the first time in what felt like forever, he wasn’t afraid anymore. He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t have the time he wanted. But in that moment, as you sat across from him, the love of his life, he felt at peace.
And perhaps, maybe, just maybe – that was enough.
Maybe, this was all he needed in life.
His life was going to be defined by loving you.
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BEING SENTIMENTAL, IT WASN’T WHAT HE WAS GOOD AT. He knew too well what this will be in the end. He knew that it was going to hurt you both, that it was going to hurt him most. It wasn’t the best idea, you knew that.
Letting Fushiguro Megumi back into your life after everything that had happened, after all the years apart—it wasn’t exactly the most rational choice. You’d spent so long building your own life, carving out your space in the world, and now, just as you’d begun to find your rhythm again, life threw you a curveball you never saw coming.
The diagnosis.
Dementia. A rare form. And to make matters worse, it was hitting you far too early before you’d even reached thirty-five. The doctors had explained it all in somber tones, but the truth was, none of it really sunk in at first.
It was a shock, a blow you weren’t sure how to handle. The thought that, in just a few years, you might forget everything, the art you created, the people you loved, the moments that had shaped your life, was downright terrifying.
And yet, here you were, staring at your phone screen with Megumi’s name blinking back at you. He’d reached out. You hadn’t heard from him in so long. The last time you saw him, things were… complicated. So many years spent apart, so many unspoken words, and yet, when you saw his name, your heart skipped a beat.
You thought it might have been fate. Or maybe just a desperate wish. The idea that you had a shot at all was one in a million. In this small window of time, before it all slipped away— to make some memories. To live whatever life you could, before the inevitable began to take hold. You wondered how that could be.
So you called him back. And when he answered, the voice on the other end was familiar and steady, just like you remembered.
“You really want to see me?” he asked, the surprise evident in his voice. “It’s been a while.”
You smiled softly, your fingers curling around the phone. “I do. I want to see you, Megumi. I need to. I—” You paused, unsure how to explain it. How could you? “I just want to make some memories.”
There was a long silence before he spoke again, and when he did, his tone was gentler. “Okay. Let’s make some memories then. How about we go to the aquarium? I know it’s random, but… I thought it might be fun.”
You felt a small laugh escape your lips at the thought of it. Megumi…Your Megumi. He was always so serious, always so reserved, ever so practical — but somehow, a trip to the aquarium seemed like just the thing you needed.
He was keeping you afloat, keeping you alive, wanting to do things. Wanting to make life interesting, even with that orderly fashion of his. It makes you warm inside. It always has. It always will.
“That sounds perfect.” you said, the words coming out easily, almost relieved.
And so, there you were, standing in front of the entrance to the aquarium, waiting for him. Your heart was a little heavier than before, the weight of the diagnosis still there in the back of your mind. But in this moment, with Megumi on his way, you felt something else: a little spark of hope. A little spark of life.
You caught sight of him as he rounded the corner, looking just as you remembered, though maybe a little older, a little worn around the edges. His eyes were still the same, dark and intense, but there was something softer about him now, something that made your heart ache.
“Hey,” he said, a faint smile on his lips. “Long time no see.”
You smiled back, the weight of the years between you almost forgotten. "Yeah. It’s been too long."
He tilted his head, studying you for a moment, his gaze lingering just a little too long, as though he could tell something was different. You didn’t have to say it out loud. He could read you like a book. He always has. You don’t think he’ll stop now. You hope he wouldn’t. You smiled at him.
“I’m glad you called.” he said softly, as if unsure of how to proceed, but that familiar warmth in his voice was still there. It had never really gone away, had it?
"Me too." you replied, and for the first time in a long while, you meant it. "I needed this."
Megumi nodded, and the two of you walked into the aquarium together, the world around you a blur of soft lights and flowing water. The sound of distant laughter and the rhythmic swoosh of fish in tanks filled the air, but all you could hear was his voice, the way it brought comfort, the way it made you feel like maybe you weren’t alone in this after all.
You pointed out the exhibits as you wandered through the aquarium, asking him what he thought of the colorful fish or the playful otters, though truthfully, your mind wasn’t always on the sea creatures. You couldn’t help but glance at him, at the way he reacted to everything, his quiet smile, his dry humor. It felt so familiar. So right.
“Remember when we came here when we were younger?” you asked, your voice soft. “We didn’t know anything about what we were doing, just wandered around aimlessly.”
Megumi chuckled, though it sounded bittersweet. “I think I spent most of the time trying to keep you from getting too close to the sharks.”
You laughed, the sound light and free, just like it used to be when you were younger. "You always were protective."
He didn’t respond to that, but the way he looked at you said it all. You both knew. You both remembered the connection you had once shared. And now, as you stood together, surrounded by glass tanks and exotic sea life, it felt like maybe, just maybe, things weren’t as broken as they seemed.
Megumi turned to you after a while, his blue – green eyes searching yours, as though considering whether to say something, something important. Sometimes Megumi gets like this.
He tries to do well when figuring out what to say, how to say them. To avoid misunderstanding. To be clear. And yet in that moment, he seemed like he already had those words. But he doesn’t want to bring it up. At least not yet.
“Do you… do you remember what you used to tell me?” he asked, his voice hesitant. “When we were kids, you said you wanted to live life fully. You didn’t want to waste a single second.”
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. It took a moment for you to recall those words, but when you did, a small laugh escaped your lips. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“You still want that, right?” Megumi’s gaze was steady, unwavering.
You paused, your heart skipping a beat. There was no need to speak the truth aloud—it was clear. Even with everything you had to face, you still wanted to live, even if it was just a little longer, even if it meant creating new memories, even if it was messy and imperfect.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I do.”
And with that simple admission, Megumi smiled, a smile that reached his eyes, a little brighter than before. He didn’t ask you what was coming next, or how much time you had left, or any of the things you had to worry about in the back of your mind. He just stood there, by your side, ready to make the most of the time you had left.
And in that moment, you realized something else too—maybe it wasn’t the best idea to let him back in, but it felt like fate. Fate had given you a chance, and you weren’t going to waste it.
Not now. Not ever again.
As you and Megumi wandered through the aquarium, the world outside seemed to fade away. There was something peaceful about the soft glow of the tanks, the gentle movement of the sea creatures, and the quiet way you and Megumi existed in each other’s space. The sounds of the outside world, the murmur of people and the occasional squeal of children, felt far away, like they were part of a distant dream.
Megumi leaned closer to one of the tanks, his eyes following the delicate movements of a seahorse. You caught yourself watching him more than you watched the creatures inside the glass, his expression thoughtful, like he was lost in the quiet beauty of it all. 
His features softened in a way that made your heart flutter. It wasn’t just his looks, though—it was the way he was. The way he had always been there for you, even when life pulls you in different directions. Everything about him makes you orbit around him, like he was your earth and you were his moon. He kept you balanced. And you like it. You always have.
“Hey, Megumi.” you said, nudging him lightly. “You’ve gone quiet. Do you still hate fish?”
He looked over at you, raising an eyebrow in that familiar, teasing way. “Not the fish, just... I can’t believe you’ve dragged me here, of all places.” But his words held no real malice. There was warmth there, a soft playfulness that made you smile.
“Admit it already.” you teased him. “You like it. You just don’t want to admit it.”
Megumi snorted, and you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. "Maybe I do. But don’t go getting any ideas. I’m not a seafood enthusiast yet."
You grinned, poking him in the ribs. “I’ll take what I can get.”
You both wandered deeper into the exhibit, laughing at the odd little creatures, pointing out your favorites, and making light-hearted jokes. At one point, you found yourselves standing before a tank of jellyfish, their long, flowing tentacles creating a mesmerizing dance in the water. You both watched in silence, the gentle sway of the jellyfish almost hypnotic.
“This is kind of like us, isn’t it?” you asked, turning to Megumi, your voice quieter now. “Just... floating along, not really knowing where we’re going, but just kind of going with it?”
Megumi looked over at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Yeah. Maybe it is.” he murmured, his voice soft and a little more serious than usual. “But, you know, I don’t mind floating along with you.”
You felt your heart swell at his words, and without thinking, you reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. His hand wrapped around yours almost instinctively, and in that moment, it felt so right. So simple. So perfect.
"You're really good at this." you whispered, giving his hand another squeeze. "At making things feel easy."
Megumi’s fingers tightened around yours, and he turned his head slightly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. “I think you’ve always made it easy, you know?” he said quietly.
You both stood there for a while, hand in hand, watching the jellyfish move. Time seemed to slow down as you both took in the moment, each of you content in the other’s presence. The world around you felt like it had paused, just for a little while, just for the two of you to exist together.
As the day began to wind down and the aquarium started to empty out, Megumi pulled you closer, his arm lightly draped around your shoulder, a natural, easy gesture.
You leaned into him, grateful for his warmth, his presence, the way he made you feel like everything would be okay. You knew it was, even when you weren’t sure about anything. As long as you have Fushiguro Megumi, life will turn out alright. It always has. It always will.
“Thanks for today, Megumi.” you said softly, your voice full of meaning. "I needed this."
Megumi glanced down at you, a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad. I needed it too.”
As you made your way to the exit, you felt lighter. The weight of your diagnosis, the fear of what was to come, was still there in the back of your mind—but in this moment, with Megumi by your side, everything else seemed distant. The future, no matter how uncertain, didn’t feel so scary anymore.
You both stepped out into the evening air, the cool breeze brushing past your faces. The city lights were just beginning to flicker on in the distance, and the streets felt full of life.
You glanced over at Megumi, his expression soft, content. The night was still young, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were living in the moment, not worrying about what was to come.
“You know……” you said, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Maybe we should do this again sometime.”
Megumi raised an eyebrow. “What, go to an aquarium?”
You grinned, nudging him playfully. “Why not? You never know, next time we might get to see the dolphins.”
He rolled his eyes, but the smile on his face was unmistakable. “You and your love for sea animals,” he teased.
“I’m serious!” you said with a laugh. “But next time, maybe you’ll actually like it more.”
“Maybe,” he said with a chuckle. "Just maybe."
As you walked side by side, the cool evening air wrapping around you, your thoughts wandered again to the future, the future that was becoming a little more uncertain with each passing day. But then you looked at Megumi again, at the soft smile on his face, and for a moment, it didn’t matter. For now, everything was perfect.
And in that perfect moment, you realized: this—him—was what you wanted. Not just tonight, not just this moment, but forever. Or at least, as long as you could have it. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but in this instant, you were going to savor every second of it.
You glanced up at Megumi, squeezing his hand gently as you whispered, “I want this to last forever.”
Megumi squeezed your hand back, his voice steady and warm. “I do too.”
But you knew, you knew too well, as he did.
Nothing on this earth was bound to last forever.
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HE DIDN’T EXPECT HOW THIS WAS GOING TO END. But then again, you too didn’t expect it. Everything was unpredictable. But he expected this to happen. Even if he didn’t want it to. That was just his fate. The pain had been creeping up on him more and more, gnawing at his insides like a constant reminder that his time was running out. 
Every movement, every step, felt like a battle. His body wasn’t his own anymore, and no matter how much he tried to push through it, the heaviness of his condition weighed on him more than he cared to admit. Everything was miserable, and he hated it. He hated how this was happening.
But there was something, someone, that made it all seem bearable. You. The thought of you kept him going, even when his body felt like it was betraying him. At the time when everything was starting to know its place, to fit perfectly. Right time, right place, right person. And yet, this had come to pass. He was sick. Beyond fixing. 
Yet Megumi was certain that he was going to fight it. For as long as he can still do it. For as long as he had the strength to. He still wanted more time with you. More chances to make up for those five years. But he knew that it was getting harder. He didn’t want you to see how bad it was getting. 
Sometimes he can’t even move himself. Sometimes he felt like he was going to throw up everything he ate. Sometimes he feels like he was going to pass out. But he doesn’t want to give up just yet.
He can’t. It wasn’t time, not just yet. He still needs to live. No matter how painful it all gets. He wants to live. He wasn’t giving up. Not when he still wanted to be there for you. Not when he still wanted to make you smile.
And he wanted to prove that. He always wants to prove that. That he was strong enough. That he can still stay here. That he can still take care of you. Tonight was one of those nights. It was already late when he got your call. But he didn’t care about the time. He had to go there for you. 
He rushed out with his meager winter coat and rushed over there. The sound of your voice was filled with frustration and a little bit of panic, and that was enough to get him moving immediately. It kept ringing in his head, the tone of your voice. He doesn’t think he had ever heard that voice from you before. 
All the way there, he thought more about your frustration and your panic more than his own pain. He didn’t even think about how exhausted he was or how much his body ached. You were what mattered to him at this moment. Nothing else. You mattered more to him. He was always going to put your first, especially now. 
When he arrived at your apartment, he found you standing by the door, frowning and rifling through your bag. Your face lit up with a mix of relief and embarrassment when you saw him. He took a moment to breathe before greeting you. 
“Megumi, I’m so sorry.” you said, wiping a hand over your face. “I can’t find my keys. I’ve looked everywhere. I—I think I’ve lost them.”
The distress in your voice was enough to make his heart tighten. He immediately stepped toward you, trying to hide the wince that flickered across his face as he reached for the door handle. 
“It’s okay, hm?” he said softly, his voice steady, even if the pain inside was threatening to make it crack. “We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.”
He tried to ignore the way his legs ached as he crouched down to check the bottom of the doormat, his hand shaking slightly as he pushed it aside, looking for any sign of the missing keys. You stood beside him, still fretting, your hands wringing together.
“I’m sorry, Megumi. I don’t want to be a burden to you.” you murmured, your voice trembling.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he stood up again. “You’re not a burden. You never have been.” He reached out, gently wiping the tears that had started to fall down your cheek. "I’m happy to help."
I’m happy to be needed. He thinks to himself, looking at you. I’m happy to be wanted by you.
Your breath hitched, your heart racing from the warmth of his touch. You didn’t understand how he could be so calm and collected when you felt like you were falling apart. But then again, it was just like him to make sure you were okay, even if it meant putting aside his own pain.
“I’m so sorry, again.” you said again, this time more softly. “I shouldn’t have let this get to me.”
Megumi just shook his head. “Hey, it’s okay. We all have our moments. It’s normal to get frustrated. I’ll help you find them, I promise.”
He glanced around for a moment, and then his gaze softened as he met your eyes. For a brief second, the weight of his own pain seemed to vanish, replaced by the quiet, soothing comfort of being close to you. The way you looked at him like he was the one thing that made sense in the chaos made everything feel a little easier.
“Let’s check inside your bag again.” he suggested gently. He took the bag from you, unzipping it with a practiced hand. As he rummaged through it, you watched him carefully, your anxiety easing just a little from the reassurance in his tone.
And then, as if by magic, he pulled out the keys from the deepest pocket of your bag. He held them up with a small, triumphant smile.
“Found them, dummy.” he said, and the relief in his voice made your heart swell.
You let out a shaky laugh, tears still lingering in your eyes, but a smile now tugging at your lips. “I’m so hopeless sometimes.”
Megumi’s smile widened, his eyes softening. “Don’t say that. You’re not hopeless. You just had a moment.”
His hand brushed against yours as he handed you the keys, and for a second, it felt like everything was perfect. Just you, him, the simple act of being together in the quiet, unspoken moments.
You met his gaze, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Thank you, Megumi. For everything.”
His bright blue–green orbs could only soften even more, and for the briefest moment, you could see the quiet ache in them, but it wasn’t pain. No, it was something else, something deeper. Something more beautiful, something more true. Everything about him felt so genuine. More than ever before.
“You don’t have to thank me. I’m just happy I’m here with you.”
And for that moment, in that small, shared space, it felt like nothing else mattered. The world outside could have been crumbling, but in his presence, you felt a quiet sense of peace you hadn’t known in a long time.
Megumi gave you one last, reassuring smile, wiping away the last of your tears, and then offered his arm to you as he moved to open the door for you. You stepped inside, the cool air of the apartment a small comfort after the small storm of emotions. Megumi was right. Everything would be fine. 
At least, for now, it was. You could forget about the worries of tomorrow and just be in the moment. As he followed you inside, a part of you couldn’t help but think how much longer you wanted this moment by your side. How you wished you could hold onto these moments forever.
The evening had grown colder, but the light snowfall made everything feel magical, like a scene out of a dream. You and Megumi had just finished your little excursion to find the perfect hotpot place, and as you sat at a cozy table by the window, the snowflakes drifted lazily outside. 
The warmth of the restaurant was a nice contrast to the chilly air, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over you. Everything about tonight was what would make winter feel the want to enjoy being alive, being warm in the cold breeze of its existence.
You pulled your phone from your bag, feeling the impulse to capture the moment. You glanced up at Megumi, who was poking at his bowl, looking surprisingly content for someone who usually seemed to prefer avoiding anything too flashy. 
His serious demeanor had softened, and his usual guarded expression was replaced with a rare sense of comfort. With a smile, you snapped a quick picture of him. Megumi looked up, startled by the sound of your camera clicking.
“Hey, no pictures, you dummy.” he protested, though his tone wasn’t harsh. He reached for the camera, but you pulled it away quickly, holding it to your chest with a grin.
“Why not? You look cute, you know?” you teased, winking playfully at him.
He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. “You always say that. Why do you take so many pictures anyway?”
You leaned back in your seat, your fingers tracing the rim of your glass as you thought for a moment. “I don’t know. I guess… I just want to remember things. The little moments that matter. You never know when they’ll be gone, so I figure I should capture the ones that make me happy.”
Megumi’s eyes softened, and he gave a quiet nod, his gaze thoughtful. “I’m glad you do that. You’ve always had a way of making ordinary moments feel... special.”
Your heart swelled at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “I’m glad you’re here to make them feel special too.”
The rest of the meal passed in a comfortable silence, filled with small chatter and the occasional clink of chopsticks. You felt more at ease than you had in a long time, the weight of the world outside the restaurant seemingly lifted.
Once dinner was over, you both left the warm comfort of the restaurant, stepping into the crisp winter night. The air was fresh and sharp, and the snow had started to fall heavier, painting the streets in a blanket of white. You couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at the sky, the snowflakes drifting down like confetti.
You walked ahead a few steps, enjoying the peaceful quiet of the night, when you suddenly realized that Megumi wasn’t next to you. Turning around, you saw him standing still, almost frozen in place, his posture slumped in an uncharacteristic way. You paused, confused, until you saw him sway slightly before collapsing onto the snow-covered pavement with a soft thud.
Your heart stopped.
“Megumi!” You rushed over to him in a panic, your breath catching in your throat as you knelt beside him. His face was pale, and his body was limp in the snow, the cold seeping through his clothes.
You gently shook his shoulder, your voice shaking as you called his name again. “Megumi! Hey, wake up, please…”
His eyelids fluttered, but he didn’t stir. You were beyond scared now. His condition had been worsening for a while, but seeing him like this made your entire world feel like it was crashing down around you. You could feel your heart beating, faster than it ever has. You had never felt such fright in your entire life.
“Megumi, stay with me, please. Please, oh my god—someone help! Please!” you say, your voice breaking as you hovered over him, panic rising in your chest. 
You couldn’t lose him. Not like this. Warm tears were starting to fall from your eyes, contrasting the cold. Everything about this moment felt like you were losing to fate.
You hated this feeling. You hated this helplessness. You hated the thought of losing the love of your life. Everything about this was cruel. And that had just made you cry even more. 
You take a breath, calming yourself, as you quickly pull your phone from your pocket, dialing the emergency number, your hands trembling as you explained the situation to the operator.
You try to check on him, trying to get him to wake up. Tears still pouring endlessly, like raindrops in the winter hale. The minutes stretched on, every second feeling like an eternity.
Megumi stirred slightly, his eyes opening just enough for him to give you a half-smile, his voice weak but still trying to reassure you, even though he clearly wasn’t fully conscious. You gasped, trying to explain to the operator that he woke up. But he immediately cuts you off, his hand on your own. He weakly squeezes it.
“Don’t... don’t worry about me.” he mumbled, his voice barely audible through the cold air. “I’m... fine.”
You shook your head, your tears threatening to spill as you grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly. “No, you’re not! You’re not fine, Megumi. You’re really not fine.”
“Hey, you…you dummy.” he said, his words slurring slightly. “You... should smile. You... should still... take pictures.”
You shook your head again, laughing through the tears that had started to fall. “I don’t care about pictures, Megumi. I just care about you.”
His eyes fluttered closed again, but he seemed comforted by your words, the faintest hint of a smile still on his lips. You kept holding his hand, never letting go, until the sound of the ambulance arrived in the distance. You didn’t want to, you never wanted to leave. Not him. But you could only pray that he’s just as resolved not to leave you too.
After all, how could you live without him?
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YOU HATED THE SMELL OF HOSPITALS. You don’t like the smell of death, the smell of grief. The smell of suffering all at once gathered through the halls. You were aware just as much that Megumi doesn’t like hospitals either. He’d always hated it as much as you. Even just doing check–ups made him upset. But there was no other choice. He has to live.
This was the only way to keep him alive. This was the only way he wouldn’t leave you. You'd rather he spend the rest of his life hating the smell of this one moment than let him die. You'd do anything to have him for what time is left.
The cold hospital lights buzzed above you as you sat next to Megumi’s bed, your fingers clutching his hand so tightly it almost hurt. His body was hooked up to various machines, the soft, rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor the only sound that filled the sterile room. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, the sight of him lying there, pale and fragile, making your chest tighten with every passing second.
The ambulance ride had been a blur of frantic moments, the flashing lights reflecting off the cold pavement as you gripped Megumi’s hand, trying to keep him awake, trying to keep him here with you. But he slipped in and out of consciousness, each time his body growing weaker, his breath shallower.
When you arrived at the hospital, the doctors didn’t waste any time. They immediately ran tests and checked his vitals, and within what felt like an eternity, they informed you of the worst news you could have imagined.
You felt like you were going to lose it when you finally heard all of it in detail. You didn’t want to hear more of it. But you had no choice. You needed to know. You needed to know so you could understand. 
Fushiguro Megumi had been battling a terminal illness, something that had been eating away at him for months, maybe even longer and he had never told you. They told you about his rare, degenerative condition, how it had been causing him excruciating pain, and how little time he had left. 
You didn’t even know how to process it. There was no true way to process it. He was dying. And you just got him back. You were going to lose him, just when you had him back. And that made you feel like you were dying too. Because how? How does one not go mad with it already? 
You wanted to scream, to yell at the world for being so unfair. But instead, you sat there, numb, tears streaming down your face, your hands trembling as you held onto Megumi like he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Why didn’t he tell you? Why had he tried to carry all of this on his own?
And yet, there was a part of you that knew exactly why. It was just like him. Megumi, ever the stoic, ever the quiet one, always putting others before himself, always bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders without ever asking for help.
The sound of his voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. It was weak at first, a soft murmur, but it was unmistakable.
“Hey… stop crying…..you dummy.”
You froze, looking down at him as his eyelids fluttered open, revealing the familiar dark eyes you had always loved. They were dull now, tired, but there was still that softness in them. That quiet strength that had always drawn you to him.
You shook your head, fresh tears spilling from your eyes. “Megumi, please, I—I can’t…” Your voice cracked as the words caught in your throat. “I can’t lose you. I can’t.”
His hand weakly squeezed yours, his grip not as strong as it used to be, but the touch still sent a wave of warmth through your chest. He shifted slightly in the bed, his brows furrowing as if trying to find the strength to sit up, but his body betrayed him, and he sank back into the pillow, wincing in pain.
“Don’t cry over me. Enough.” he whispered, his voice low and strained. “I’m... I’m not worth it.”
You let out a small sob, your head dropping to the edge of his bed as you tried to compose yourself, though the tears kept coming. “Megumi, you are. You are worth it. You always have been.”
He turned his head slightly toward you, his eyes still clouded with exhaustion, but there was something softer there, something almost apologetic. You hated that look on his face. Because there was nothing to apologize about. Not even once. All you wanted to do was take care of him. All you wanted to do was keep him safe.
“I’ve been so... selfish, haven’t I?” His voice was barely audible, the words coming out in a rasp, but you heard them clearly. “I didn’t want to worry you. I didn’t want to burden you with this...”
“You never burdened me, Megumi. You should know that.” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his. “You never were a burden. I would’ve done anything for you...”
He let out a quiet sigh, the corners of his lips twitching up in the faintest smile. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to make your heart ache even more. He looked so resigned to his fate, to all of this pain. And you didn’t like it. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be in pain. He shouldn’t be content. Not when you just got back together.
“I know, I know.” he murmured, his voice so weak now that it was almost lost in the hum of the machines around you. “I know you would’ve.”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breath, but it was difficult with the weight of everything pressing down on you. “You don’t have to be strong for me anymore, Megumi.” you whispered, the words barely escaping. “It’s okay to let me help you. Please don’t push me away. I can’t lose you like this.”
His eyes closed again, and for a moment, you thought he might have fallen asleep again, but his voice broke through the silence, softer now, as if he were speaking to himself as much as to you. It was such a low voice, so weary and exhausted. You didn’t like seeing him like this. So beaten by something he can’t control.
“Maybe... maybe I should’ve let you in sooner. I was afraid. Afraid of what would happen if I told you everything.”
You gently cupped his face with your hand, wiping away the tears that still fell freely. “You don’t have to apologize for any of it. I just wish I’d known. I wish I could’ve helped sooner.”
Megumi’s lips parted, but his breath hitched in a shallow cough before he could say anything more. His hand gripped yours again, and this time, he managed a little more pressure, just enough to make you feel the sincerity in his touch.
“I’m glad you’re here, you know?” he whispered softly. “I don’t have much time left... but I’m glad I have you now.”
Your heart shattered at those words, but at the same time, you held onto them, clinging to the fragile thread of time that remained between you. You leaned over and kissed his forehead softly, your heart aching with the knowledge that you didn’t know how much time you had left with him, but you were going to make the most of every precious second.
“I’m here, Megumi. Always.” you whispered. “I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Days blended together as the winter months stretched on. The world outside seemed to freeze, as if mirroring the heaviness in your heart. Snowflakes continued to fall softly outside the hospital windows, blanketing the world in quiet white, but inside, it felt like the world was slowly slipping away.
You didn’t let yourself dwell on the inevitable. You couldn’t. Every time you looked at Megumi, you saw the man you loved, the man who had always been there for you, even when you hadn’t known you needed him. You stayed by his side every day, holding his hand, speaking to him, telling him about everything you hoped for. 
About how the world was still turning outside, how you wanted to keep making memories, even if it felt impossible. You even began taking photos again. Photos of him. You didn’t know how much time you had left, but you were going to capture every moment, every smile, every soft word between you.
It wasn’t easy. Some days, you couldn’t remember where you’d put your keys, or where your phone was. Little things, fading memories, were slipping through your grasp, like water running through your fingers. But what stayed, what never faded—was how deeply you loved him. How every moment you shared with Megumi had become a treasure in your heart.
It was late one afternoon, the sky already darkening as the cold winds howled outside, when you sat next to him again in his hospital room. The soft beeping of the heart monitor was almost rhythmic now, and the other sounds of the machines had become a steady background hum.
You watched him sleep, his chest rising and falling with the shallow breath of someone who had fought so long to stay with you. You had asked the doctors, of course, but they had never promised anything. They always do that. They say, they can only do their best. Promises are the hardest, especially when it comes to people’s lives. 
You ran your fingers over his hand, brushing against the cool skin that had once been warm, but you didn’t mind. It was still him. Still the Megumi you knew, the Megumi you had spent years beside, growing together, building a life together. Even if that life had been cut short, you would never stop cherishing it.
You whispered softly to him, hoping he could hear, even as he drifted in and out of sleep. “Megumi... I love you. And I’m never going to forget that. No matter what happens, I’ll remember this. I’ll remember you.”
For a long while, there was silence—just the sound of the wind outside and the soft hum of the hospital machines. You thought about the future, or rather, the lack of one that you’d once planned.
The future you had dreamed of with him, one where you could grow old together, laughing at silly jokes, holding hands as you walked through life. But the truth of the situation lingered in the air, thick and undeniable.
And then, just as you were about to close your eyes for a moment’s rest, Megumi’s voice broke the stillness, faint and barely audible.
“Hey...” he said, his voice raspy, but full of that familiar warmth.
You sat up straight, your eyes immediately focusing on him. He was awake, just barely, his eyes blinking slowly in the dim light. A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. He looked so exhausted.
As though he doesn’t have any energy left to live. You hated that, you hated that smile too. You can’t help it. It made you aware how fragile everything is. How fragile life is. How you were far too near to losing him. 
“You... you’re awake?” you whispered, leaning closer, your heart pounding with hope.
He nodded slightly, though the movement seemed to take a lot of effort. “I’m here,” he murmured. “I’m... sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” you said, a smile slipping onto your face, even though your eyes were still damp. “You don’t have to apologize for anything, Megumi. I’m just... glad you’re here. I’m glad you’re with me.”
His eyes softened as he looked up at you, his lips parting slightly as he struggled for the words. “I’ve always... wanted you to be happy. Even now, I... I want you to be happy.”
Your heart clenched, and you leaned down, your forehead resting gently against his. “I am happy. Because I’m with you. I have been, and I always will be.”
Megumi smiled again, his hand weakly squeezing yours. His smile was small, but it meant everything to you. The most precious thing in the world. You would carry that smile with you, even if the days grew darker, even if the cold winds of winter began to steal more from you.
In that moment, you made a promise to him in your heart. You promised that, no matter what, you would keep loving him. Even if you forgot everything else, you would never forget the love you shared. You would never forget him.
The room felt colder than it ever had before, despite the soft hum of the heaters and the warmth of the blankets wrapped around Megumi. You sat there beside him, holding his hand, feeling his pulse slowly fading.
The soft beeping of the heart monitor had become slower, more erratic. Your eyes were fixed on him, waiting, hoping for some miracle that you knew would never come.
The doctors had already said it to you, clearly. His time was up. There were no more treatments, no more hopes left to cling to. The harsh reality of it all was suffocating, but you didn’t want to let go. You couldn’t. Not when he had been your everything for so long.
You leaned down closer to him, brushing his bangs out of his face, memorizing the way his features were so familiar, the way his eyes had always held that quiet strength. You whispered to him softly, your voice shaky, as tears slid down your cheeks. 
"Megumi... please, please stay with me. I love you so much."
His breath was shallow now, ragged. But he turned his head toward you ever so slightly, just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes still holding a glimmer of something.
Even in the face of his end, there was a calmness in him, a peace that you couldn’t quite grasp. And you wondered, not for the first time, if he had known all along that this was the way things would end.
He barely opened his mouth, but his voice was soft and full of the kind of warmth that you’d come to treasure, the kind of warmth that had always been his, even when he was hurting.
"I'm glad that you were my final view, you dummy…..my love." he said, his voice so quiet, so weak, but full of meaning. "I'm glad that you were my beginning... and my end."
Your heart shattered at the words, but you swallowed back your sobs, trying to stay strong for him. He had always been strong for you, even when he didn’t have to be. And now, it was your turn to be strong for him.
"I love you, so so much." he whispered, the words barely audible but carrying more weight than anything else he could have said. His hand tightened around yours, just for a moment, but it was enough to make your heart soar and break all at once.
You pressed your forehead to his, your tears falling freely now, each drop a painful reminder that time had run out. You wanted to cry out loud. You wanted him to wake up. You wanted him to come back. But you know he won't. He won't ever come back.
"I love you." you whispered back, over and over again, as if saying it would somehow make the pain of losing him easier. "I love you... I love you... I love you."
But there was no answer. No more words. His chest rose and fell one last time, and then it stilled. The beep of the heart monitor flatlines, and with it, the world around you seems to collapse in on itself.
He was gone.
You stayed there, for what felt like an eternity, unable to tear yourself away from his side. You couldn’t bring yourself to let go of his hand, even though you knew he was no longer there to hold it. The warmth of his skin was already starting to fade, but you still clung to it, as though holding on to him would keep him with you forever.
The quiet in the room was deafening, a silence so deep it threatened to swallow you whole. You closed your eyes, trying to push away the overwhelming sorrow that threatened to drown you. But in the quiet, you could still hear his voice, still feel the warmth of his love in your chest.
I love you, he had said. And that was all that mattered now. That was all you could hold onto.
The nurses came in, gently moving you aside, but you didn’t care. They tried to comfort you, to tell you everything would be okay, but nothing would ever be okay again. You had lost the person you loved most in the world, and no one could take that pain away.
Hours passed. Or was it days? You couldn’t remember anymore. The world outside continued to turn, the snow continuing to fall, but all you could think about was him. Megumi. Your Megumi.
The man you loved with every part of you. The man who had been your best friend, your lover, your everything. And now he was gone, and you were left with nothing but the aching emptiness of his absence.
You didn’t leave the hospital that night. You stayed there, next to him, holding his hand, telling him you loved him over and over. You didn’t know if he could hear you. You didn’t know if it mattered.
You just needed him to know. He had been the love of your life, and you would carry that love with you forever. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much you’d forget, you would never forget him.
The days that followed were a blur of sadness and quiet moments of reflection. The funeral. The family. The friends who came and went, offering their condolences, their words of sympathy. But none of it mattered. Not without him.
Winter gave way to spring, the snow melting and the world coming back to life, but you felt like you were still stuck in the cold. The world had moved on, but you were stuck in that one moment, in that one room, with Megumi.
It was as if time had frozen the moment he left, and you couldn’t break free from it.
But still, you held on to him. You held on to the love he had given you, the smile he had worn for you, and the life you had shared together. Because that was all you had left.
And no matter how much the world tried to take it away from you, you would never forget him.
You will never forget Megumi.
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SOME DAYS ARE EASIER THAN OTHERS, YOU NURSES THINK. But today was not one of those days. Somehow, the days seemed to slip away like water through your fingers, and the world around you grew hazier with each passing moment.
You didn’t know the date, the year, or even your own name anymore. Sometimes, when the nurses spoke to you, you’d hear their voices and understand their words, but the world beyond that seemed so far away.
But there was one thing you could never forget. No matter how much time passed or how much your memory faded, there was always him.
His face, his eyes. Those blue-green eyes that shone with a warmth that made your heart flutter even now. They felt so familiar and yet you couldn’t remember who they belonged to. Who this man was. And yet, you always felt at ease when you painted him. You always felt like life was beautiful, when he stared back at you.
It didn’t matter if you couldn’t remember all of it. How you’ll repeatedly ask what you did and who you met. Or what you were thinking about and or what you wanted to eat. That didn’t matter. All you knew was that whenever you had a brush in your hand, whenever you felt the quiet pull of the canvas, it was his face you painted. It was always him.
It had become a ritual of sorts. The nurses would often find you at the small desk in your room, your hands trembling as you carefully added strokes of color to the canvas. Sometimes it was a portrait.
Everyone could see his strong jawline, his dark tousled hair, the way his lips curled into a gentle smile. Other times, it was an abstract piece, his image lost in swirls of color and light. But it was always him.
No one ever questioned it. The staff knew you were once a famous artist, known for your ability to capture the most subtle emotions in a single stroke. Perhaps that’s why they never seemed surprised to see you lost in your own world, creating pieces of art that you couldn’t fully understand anymore. 
But they saw the joy in your eyes when you painted him, and that was enough. It was more than enough. You were suffering already, in so many ways. What is letting you have some little joy in the things you painted? And so one afternoon, as you carefully placed another layer of paint on the canvas, one of the nurses peeked in. 
"How’s the painting today?" she asked softly, her voice kind.
You looked up, smiling at her, the brush still poised in your hand. "It’s him again." you said, your voice surprisingly steady. "His eyes… I remember his eyes."
She smiled at you, though there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. "You’ve been painting him every day, haven’t you?"
You nodded, not quite understanding why it felt so important to paint him. "He’s got the kindest eyes," you said with a quiet certainty. "The softest face."
She watched you for a moment, her expression filled with understanding. "He must have meant a lot to you."
You blinked, as if the question had never occurred to you. You couldn’t remember the details, couldn’t remember how he had come into your life or who he was, but the feeling that lingered when you thought about him, when you painted him—that you couldn’t deny. It was love. A deep, unshakable love that you could feel, even if you couldn’t understand it completely.
"Yes, I think so." you said, your voice is a little softer now. "He was special. He seems like it."
You looked down at the canvas, the figure of the man emerging once more from the swirls of paint. He had this way of looking at you, even in the paintings—this gentle warmth in his eyes that made you feel safe, loved, and understood, even when the rest of the world seemed so distant.
There was peace in that. 
There was a quiet comfort.
The nurse gave a soft smile, nodding her head before quietly excusing herself. But you stayed, lost in your thoughts as your brush moved again, creating another piece of him. Another piece of your memory, even if it was the only one you had left.
It wasn’t about the name. It wasn’t about remembering the details of the past. It was about the feeling, the love that had lived between you two, that was what mattered. The man with the blue-green eyes, the man who had the kindest smile, was the one you could hold onto in your heart, even as everything else slipped away.
As you continued to paint, a small smile curled on your lips. He was with you. In every stroke, in every color, he was there. And as long as you could still remember that love, you would keep painting him.
No matter how many times the world around you faded, you would never forget him.
He had been the brightest part of your life, and even now, in the quiet of the care home, he was the only thing you still held close.
And that made everything a little easier.
255 notes · View notes
sevikasslut4life · 2 days ago
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Party Night
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Sevika x fem!reader
Song to listen to while reading:
Warning: NSFW, sub!reader, Sevika being possessive
A/N: so erm guys I saw Sevika fan art and.. 🤭🤭 I felt 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 so here you go, hope you enjoy :3
"Fuck, yeah that's it.. Shit." Sevika pants as she pounds into N/N's hole, with this strap-on she created herself, filled with Shimmer so she could boost her stamina. "Sevika~ Mmmph.. Ohhh.." N/N whimpered out as she moaned softly, her nails digging into Sevika's shoulders, panting. A few minutes ago, N/N was showing Sevika, her girlfriend, a new outfit she got to wear out tonight. But those plans changed when Sevika actually SAW the outfit. Now N/N was sprawled out on the bed, the new clothing ripped on the floor while she cried out. "Beg, baby.. Beg to cum.." Sevika grunted out, her thrusts became more rough and faster paced. "P-Please Vika.. G-Gonna cum.. Mmm.." N/N cried out as she whimpered and whined. "Alright, sweetheart.. When I get to zero.. Cum for me.." Sevika murmured as she started thrusting again while counting down. "Five... Four.. Three.. Two.." Sevika grumbled as she panted, grunting as the bed beneath her creaked. "One.. Zero." Sevika grunted as she let out a loud groan, feeling N/N's walls clench on the strap, as she finally came all around the strap. "You did so good... Come here.." Sevika panted as she slid out of her, taking off the strap and laying in bed with the beautiful woman, ravished beside her.
"You okay there, sweetie?" Sevika murmured, her voice a soft chuckle as she wrapped her arms around N/N, careful with her new mechanical arm. "Yeah.. Just.. Wow." N/N panted as she laughed softly. "Gotta do this, gotta let people know who my girl is.." Sevika murmured as she leaned in, placing soft kisses and hickeys onto N/N's neck, the mark dark and wide, letting everyone know who she belonged too. Sevika finally pulled away with a chuckle as the two fell into a deep sleep.
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yanmuffins · 2 days ago
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asks 3.
more asks i'm answering in a bulk about p&f! reader! there's two for vampire! reader at the end of the post, though.
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@amethystjellyfish
jon better keep an eye out for selener.
ok, to be fair, damian knows the family's gotten pretty overbearing at this point. father was not at all pleased to discover the stunts they (damian included) pulled over the course of the summer. and he, too, knows that his sibling is feeling cooped up with all the excessive supervision. but.
but.
just who does jon think he is to try and take their sibling away from their home? he was supposed to be damian's friend, and it is for the sake of their friendship he'll overlook such an absurd suggestion and not tell his family on the condition jon never says anything like that again. let's just hope tim wasn't listening, else he would rat them all out since he (and everyone else in the family) has zero issues with kicking jon out the manor if he keeps putting those ideas in p&f! reader's mind. poor jon (╥ ω ╥)
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@akatsukki677
the referenced scene!
one of my favorite candace moments.
also, why is this so in-character for them? i am begging someone please draw this.
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NOT DAMIAN SECRETLY LIKING DUCKY MOMO!!! you are all so big-brained. you know, dick would ask p&f! reader about it next time they bumped into each other. and he will find out about damian's love for ducky momo one way or another (not that reader would snitch, but dick is dick. he would notice).
i don't much to add, but here are some more gems (jason being cute with perry, though, i love it sm):
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i have a sinking feeling that if jason somehow came to know of perry's secret identity as agent p before everyone else he would have so much fun gaslighting tim. yeah. he's a platypus. just a platypus, tim. chill. go to sleep.
... then he fistbumps perry when tim's not looking.
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p&f! reader and damian bringing in cryptids and magical creatures into the manor like it's another ordinary day seems like something that would absolutely happen, yes.
the horse with fins is just what they salvaged from their very succesful trip to atlantis, they'll find horsie a good home eventually. and for every unlikely creature and plant they stumble upon, they just blame it on damian. they're his thing, after all! i don't think it would happen often, but damian still wouldn't enjoy getting scolded for animals that aren't his. nevermind that he may or may not be connivent in finding those animals, sneaking them into the house and finding them proper homes. that's not relevant.
trying to blame it on reader will just get him incredulous looks from his family. no, reader did not find a dodo bird, that's impossible. there's no way they could do that.
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@amethystjellyfish
not only is he trying to convince p&f! reader that their pet platypus is secretly evil and plotting tim's demise specifically, he's trying to convince the entire manor. he has a powerpoint presentation. he has flashcards. he has become damian 2.0 but instead of reader's, he's trying to bust the platypus. obviously, p&f! reader thinks it's silly. damian straight up laughs at tim. bruce is too tired to even sigh.
"it's just a platypus, tim, they don't do much", they say. fools, the lot of them. there's something off about that semiaquatic egg-laying mammal and HE'S GOING TO PROVE IT.
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yup, he's p&f reader's isabella! and yes, i think besides damian and jon, they very much have a group of friends from metropolis. damian wouldn't get along with them too well, at least at first, but jon integrates fine into the friend group.
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@randomlyappearingartist
good question! i guess we'll just have to chalk it up to p&f! reader's cartoonish luck that they haven't come across any actual evil villains who want to user their genius for their own nefarious purposes.
it would be interesting to just see a bunch of villains arguing and fighting between each other to offer p&f! reader an internship or kidnap them so they can build evil contraptions. but, in the end, reader never gets kidnapped, never becomes aware there are villains out there wanting to scout them, because the villains keep thwarting each other before they even reach p&f! reader. so something like this:
evil goon: hey kid, kid! i gotta talk...
evil goon from another villain: immediately tackles him to the ground and they start fighting. reader is none the wiser.
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one of my favorite gags is people who shouldn't have guns pulling out guns at dramatically appropriate times. and it makes sense! i mean, p&f! reader is bruce's kid, so them being prepared for every possible situation just feels natural.
although... i reckon they'd be more creative than just straight up having a gun. probably a more creative non-lethal item of their own making that was meant as a weapon but could absolutely be used as such, which would also be so, so funny.
like this:
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vampire! reader try to hide her vampirism (impossible)
the asks i've gotten about reader being terrible at hiding that she's a vampire in the manor (and the implications that her family is kinda brushing it off and accepting her excuses) are so great. yeah, sure, reader fell and that's why she's covered in copious amount of blood, stephen king's carrie-style. it does make them very suspicious but like.... what else would it be?
and honestly, tim and steph have no idea how relieved they should be that reader is staring at crime scene photos when there's two human beings full of blood right there with her. i'm surprised no one has sent in a bruce scenario where she's being completely erratic and he's just sitting there, perplexed, unsure on how to proceed
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hyunluvbug · 2 days ago
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show me how to love | five - love me
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab reader
content warnings: NSFW MDNI!!!🔞, kissing, fingering, unprotected sex (stay protected yall o7), semi possessive (we love to see it), praise
word count: 1803
a/n: a new part??? omg we cheered lol, here is the next part and i plan for part 6 to be the last part of this series. thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and interacting <3 i hope u enjoy :)
She wakes up and feels like she had the best sleep ever. There is immense warmth beneath her, her eyes cast down to see Hyunjin fast asleep. His chest moves up and down from his breaths. One of his arms still lays over her waist, she feels her face warm up as she remembers what happened last night. How could this have actually happened? She has always dreamed about Hyunjin confessing his feelings to her and to be honest she did not think he even felt the same way. To now know that this beautiful and amazing guy, one of her best friends, is in love with her? It felt like a dream. A dream she did not want to wake up from. She lays back down onto Hyunjin’s chest but feels him stir a little bit and his arm around her tighten. She keeps her eyes open as she looks up at him, her free hand goes up to a stray hair on his forehead. She pushes it out of the way and continues to stare at him, he is one of the most angelic people she has ever seen. What is he doing to her?
“Enjoying the view?” Hyunjin mumbles and she feels her heart almost drop out of her ass. His eyes open to meet hers and he smirks at her. “You were awake that whole time?”
“Not the whole time, just from when you couldn't resist touching me.” He teases and pulls her closer, if that is even possible. She can feel his breath on her face, “How could I not?” She smiles at him. He leans down to press his lips to hers passionately. She gets on top of him and he grunts. His mind goes crazy from the thoughts of her riding him. As they are kissing, her phone begins to ring. Hyunjin does not let up from the kiss while she is trying to pull away. “Hyunjin, I have to get the phone.” She said between kisses and Hyunjin mumbles in response. He pulls away from her and kisses all over her face. She giggles from the feeling and he grabs her phone from the coffee table. 
“Answer it.” He mischievously smirks. She looks at the screen to see that Han is calling her, she answers the phone and puts it to her ear. “Hello?” 
“Y/n! I thought you died! Are you doing alright? I didn’t hear from you all day yesterday.” While Han is talking, Hyunjin sits up and pushes Y/n below him with her back to the couch. He begins to run his hands down her legs and goes to unbutton her pants. Her eyes widen as she watches him take her pants off. 
“Yes, I am fine. There is nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about? You were an absolute DISASTER the last time I saw you. Are you sure that I don’t need to talk to Hyunjin myself?” 
With her pants fully off, Hyunjin runs a finger down her panties right over her slit sending a shiver down her back. She holds back a moan as Hyunjin continues to rub her over her underwear. 
“I swear there is nothing to worry about. Hyunjin and I are on good terms.” She says beginning to sound more hoarse than she intends to. His movements become quicker over her clit and she bites down on her lip. 
“Okay if you say so. But, I wanted to ask you something.” Han says and to be honest she didn't want to keep talking to him especially with how good Hyunjin was making her feel. Hyunjin looks at her with a smirk and stops his movements on her clit. He leans down to pull her underwear down and before she knows it, his finger is inside her. She inhales a loud breath and remembers that Han is still on the phone. “Uh- yes. What did you need to ask me?” She replies and Hyunjin begins to finger her at a slow rhythm. It takes everything in her not to moan out loud for him. Everything that Han says to her leads to her responding with only, “Mhmm.” “Yeah” and “Okay.” She could not tell you what he was saying, all her focus was on how good Hyunjin is making her feel. 
“Thank you so much for listening Y/n. I appreciate it.” 
“Mhmm, no problem.”
“Oh and tell Hyunjin I said hey.” 
Her eyes widen and before she is able to respond he hangs up. Hyunjin looks down at her with amusement, his finger begins to speed up. Finally she is able to let out all the moans she had been holding in. “Fuck Hyunjin.” 
Hyunjin chuckles, “You were such a good girl for me. But now I want to listen to you.” His fingers keep the same rhythm, as he leans down to press his lips to hers. She moans into his mouth while his finger speeds up. She groans more into his mouth and she can feel him smirk. He pulls away from her mouth and pulls his finger out. She pouts up at him and his fingers go down to his own pants. He undoes his buckle and takes his pants off. She waits hungrily as he pulls down his boxers next. She feels her breath grow more unsteady as he pushes her legs further apart to get between them. His hands find her waist and when he pulls her closer her head hits the couch softly. His hands run up to the bottom of her top and pull her shirt over her head. 
“Sit up for me.” He mumbles and she leans forward, his warm hand goes behind her back to unclasp her bra. Her boobs now move freely and his gaze darkens. He pushes her back down onto the couch. She feels his cock brush up against her core and her back arches slightly. He looks down at her as he pushes inside, “Fuck!” He exclaims once he is fully in. “How are you so tight?” He groans, his cock begins to slowly move inside her as he finds his rhythm. She can feel him so deeply and her mind is already beginning to break from the pleasure. 
“Shit, you’re so hot.” He moans and she moans in response. His rhythm begins to speed up. Her boobs begin to move with each thrust, the sounds of their moans and skin fill the ear. Hyujin leans down to her and places a hand on one of her boobs. The softness of his hands meets the softness of her skin. Her moans become higher the faster he goes. “You take it so well baby.” He grunts and picks up the pace. 
“Hyunjin please.” She breathes out, her hands reach behind her to hold on to the couch. 
“Fuck. Can you turn around?” He pulls out of her and she turns around with her ass in the air. Hyunjin repositions himself and begins to fuck her even faster (if that is even possible). His hand meets her ass with a loud smack and she moans into the couch. He grabs both of her arms to pull her up to his chest. “You’re such a good girl baby. I fucking love this pussy.” He grunts into her ear and she moans in response. 
“You’re mine baby. No one else’s.” He says into her ear and places a kiss onto her cheek. He continues fucking into her, his eyes beginning to roll and her breaths coming out into whimpers. “I am so close, are you close baby?” He asks and she moans yes in response. 
“I want you to cum for me, okay angel? I am right with you.” His cock reaches a deeper place into her and she feels herself about to come undone. “I am going to cum.” She moans out and he grunts in response. 
“Cum baby.”
At that command, she cums around him and he continues a few more thrusts before he pulls out. “Turn around baby.” He says gently and she turns around to see him stroking his cock towards her face. “I am going to cum on that pretty face, claim you as mine.” 
She groans in response as she watches his hand work on his cock. A few more strokes and he is cumming. His cum lands on her face and some of it gets into her mouth. She giggles as he continues to paint her face. Hyunjin breathes out a loud groan and looks down at her. His hands reach her face, “You look so beautiful right now.” He gushed. She felt her face flush from the compliment. “Let me get you some tissues.” He places a kiss on her face and gets up from the couch. 
She lays down on one of the couch pillows feeling exhausted. When Hyunjin returns, she is able to get a good look at his naked body. His body is unlike anything she could have ever imagined. Hyunjin walks over to her and wipes her face for her. He sits down beside her and lets out a long sigh. “That was amazing.” He smiles at her and she nods in agreement. “Can I request that we take a post sex nap?” She leans up with her arms open. 
“How could I ever deny that request?” He teases and lays down in her arms. She strokes his hair as they lay together. 
“By the way what did Han say?”
She looks down at him, “I am gonna be so honest, I have no idea.” Hyunjin giggles in accomplishment.  “But, he definitely knew something was up. He told me to tell you hi for him.” 
Hyunjin begins to laugh more and she glares down at him playfully. “It’s not funny! I don’t know how I will face him now.” She grunts in annoyance as well as embarrassment. 
“I’m sure it won’t be as bad as you think.” 
“Are you sure you know the Han that we are talking about? This guy will make it his whole ass personality. Just watch” She sighs. She suddenly feels a small vibration under her arm. She had forgotten her phone was still on the couch from before. She picks up her phone to see she has tons of messages from her group chat with Han, Chan, Changbin, Lee Know, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin. Messages like “I THINK HYUNJIN AND Y/N ARE HAVING SEX.” from Han and other messages like ‘FINALLY!!” “Took them long enough” and “I won’t believe it until I see it” come from the others. She groans in frustration.
“Like I said, he will make it his whole personality.” She said and showed Hyunjin the phone. Hyunjin just began to laugh at all the messages and decided to reply. 
“We did have sex :) - Hyunjin.”
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cluescorner · 6 months ago
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I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc
#damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian al ghul wayne#batman#batfamily#for all of the issues that come with having Steph as your fave having too much wild shit happening at once is never one of them#btw I quite like The Boy Wonder Issue 1. wow shocker an artist and writer who I have liked everything they've ever done#has once again written something that I am enjoying with art that makes me want to be part of its world.#it's almost like Juni Ba is really freaking talented or something#like I have some problems with it but it seems like many of those are part of the point. Damian is learning that his siblings are more#three-dimensional than he realized and that is part of this 'coming of age' story merged with fairytale#so I can't be mad at the oversimplistic defining of Dick and Jason and Tim until the conclusion of the series. that might be the point.#I hope that the series will address Steph as a Robin but if not then frankly it's not an issue unique to this series.#I'll be annoyed and disappointed but ultimately roll with it like I am with Babsgirl being here. There's too much good stuff here to get#hung up on shit that seems to be almost an editorial mandate at this point. at least that's where I'm at.#I am also very sorry that Chip Zdarsky is massacring your boy. he has 'X (Tim for him) is the best Robin so everyone else must suck' diseas#where a writer really likes one specific Robin and in trying to uplift them demeans all of the other Robins. instead of like...just writing#for that one character only or alternatively not demeaning the other characters in order to make his blorbo look good#it's wild because I actually think his writing for Tim is pretty solid. but he's not writing a Tim series. he's writing a Batman series.#and if you are going to write a Batman series and include other Batfamily members you need to actually write them well.#instead of assigning them like 2 personality traits while Tim gets to be a whole character#I accept that behavior in fanfic where I have lesser standards because it's fucking free. not a comic run that wants me to pay#tens of dollars in order to understand what the fuck is going on. he's been going for a while now it's gotta be a lot of money.#I can buy Steelworks with that money. I can see John Henry and Natasha Irons in a trade. Fuck you Chip.#it's why it takes such a special person to write a good ensemble story/a good Batfamily story. you have to be good at writing a LOT#of different characters. which I don't think most people are. I sure as hell am not. I can write maybe 3 at a time confidently well.#and you also have to give all of them at least SOME love or else people will be upset that you aren't focusing on their fave#and also the writing as a whole will suffer. Chip Zdarsky is a pretty good Tim writer. I'd maybe read a Tim solo written by him.#I would not read a story focusing on multiple characters that I like written by Chip Zdarsky. because every character who isn't Tim#is at least a bit weak/inconsistent/out of character INCLUDING FUCKING BATMAN. THE NO. 1 GUY MOST ARE HERE FOR
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tonberry-yoda · 1 year ago
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Interdimensional Hell - Miguel O'Hara
notes - FOR THE POLL!!!! This has been in the works for a while, but here it is! It's a long ass fic with my whole heart and soul packed into it (+ the beautiful addition of not being proofread lolol) and I am so exited to share! I hope my Miguel lovers enjoy this fic!! <3 word count - 4,060 (omfg this is my longest fic on tumblr LMFAOOOO) WARNINGS - lots of angst, not proofread, f!reader, mentions of a near panic attack summary - you were Miguel O'Hara's wife. You were more than happy to be with someone like him, but was unfortunately taken away from your family when your world was torn apart by what looked like a glitching videogame. Now you travel through dimension after dimension looking for your family and will stop at nothing to do so while also having some fun along the way
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“Gabriella!” You were close to tears as your daughter ran to you, jumping into your arms.
“Mamma, did you see that?” she said with a bright smile, sweat beading on her forehead. “When I kicked the ball, it was like BAM and then it went FWOOSH and then we won!!”
“I did see that, baby. I am so darn proud of you.” You pinched her nose, giving it a little kiss as your husband walked up holding an ice cream cone.
“Did you see that, papa?” she asked as he handed her the ice cream.
“Of course I did. You are so talented.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. She thanked him for the cone and giggled as he threw her on his back for a piggyback ride.
“You got that on video, didn’t you, Miguel?” you asked, scruffing Gabriella’s hair.
“Yup.” he responded, bouncing Gabriella and telling her how proud he was of her. God, his smile was perfect.
You pulled out the camera from its bag and filmed your husband and daughter. Literally nothing could be better than this.
Gabreiella giggled and made fun of Miguel before slamming the ice cream in his face, the two breaking out in laughter. When he set her on the ground, he gave her a five second head start to run out in the field before he would come after her, telling her to be careful with the ice cream.
He looked up at you and you giggled. “Miguel, you’re face, love.”
“What? What’re you–” he chuckled as he wiped ice cream off of his face. “Did I get it?” he asked.
“Hold on.” You set down the camera and pulled a baby wipe out of your bag, dabbing it on Miguel’s face.
“It’s been five seconds now!” Gabriella shouted from the other side of the field.
Miguel kissed your cheek and dashed after his daughter. You smiled at the camera before turning it off.
Nothing lasts forever.
You heard that from everyone, but you hated that it was true.
Even the happiest month of your life can turn to shit really fast.
When the world started glitching, you thought you were losing your mind. You worked from home and Miguel was out with Gabriella for the day. You looked to the corner of your room and it… glitched. Like something out of a movie. You never told anyone, especially when it kept happening. You thought that no one else saw it, that it was your mind playing tricks.
But when it kept happening, you knew something was wrong.
And when the world ended, you were right, and you knew you would never see your family ever again.
You ran out into the streets and saw people running, the world behind them disappearing, and even some of them faded into nothingness. You wanted to scream, cry, anything. But you froze, watching the colossal whatever it was coming for you. And then you saw something else. It looked different than the giant glitching wall. It was small and no bigger than the gap under a bed. You jumped in without even thinking. You were going to die anyway, so why not be a little reckless?
As you felt like you were falling for days, you thought of your daughter. Why didn’t you go after her? You felt like a terrible mother and curled into a ball, crying. No one was coming to save you and you weren't coming to save anyone. The world wasn’t what it used to be a month ago, a week ago, hell, it wasn’t even this bad a day ago. You cried for your family, knowing that you couldn't do a thing for them and then everything went black.
“Is she alive?” you heard a voice say, but couldn't see where it came from.
“I sure hope so. I don't get paid enough for someone to die here.”
“Well check!”
You felt cold hands brush your forehead and you jerked awake, coughing and trying not to scream.
“Woah, woah!” you heard the voice from the start say. “Everything’s fine. We’re not gonna hurt you.” You saw that the voice came from a boy with bright blonde hair and a cybernetic eye.
The other one was a man with brown hair, who looked like he could crush you – tan skin and muscles bigger than you.
You went to say something, but glitched, making the two men jump back.
“Woah there!” the blonde one said. “You’re not from here, are you?”
You just shook your head and could already feel a headache forming.
“I don't have time for this,” the bigger one said. “I have a shop to run.”
“At least give the girl a watch! She looks stressed out enough and I think the last thing we need to do is have her glitching.”
“I think the last thing we need to do is deal with someone that isn't from here. That happens far too often, don't you think, Spike? You have too much sympathy for the outsiders.”
“And what if I do?” Spike asked, crossing his arms. “I don't think you have enough, Wade.”
Spike walked away from you and opened a large cabinet from above Wade’s head, pulling out a bright green watch. He slipped it on your wrist and proceeded to click a few buttons and everything tense inside of you strangely managed to slip away.
You took a deep breath and smiled at Spike. “Thank you,” you said to him. “It’s been a really long day.”
“I can tell,” he chuckled. “First time out of your dimension?”
You nodded and adjusted the watch.
“Well, make sure to keep that bad boy locked in place. Don't want to be outside of your dimension without one or else… well, think bad, but worse.” He sat in a rolly chair and spun to his computer. “Can you do me a favor, missy?”
“Anything.” you said. He had been more than willing to help you, so you were more than willing to do the same.
“Stand on that little circle over there for me.” He pointed to a large purple circle in the middle of the room and you tilted your head, but still walked over to it with no hesitation.
“What’s this?” you asked.
“I'm gonna scan you, but don't be scared. This bad boy will help you get home safe.”
You went to speak up, telling him that you weren’t so sure it was a good idea, but he interrupted you.
“Wade, help me out here! Let’s get her out of here.”
“Finally.” Wade scoffed. He walked over to you and held your arms up, strapping them to two mechanical devices on either side of you that then held your arms to make you in the shape of a Y.
“This won't hurt a bit, doll.” Spike said, clicking a button on his computer. A bright light scanned you up and down and you looked at Spike, who held his chin and tilted his head. “Huh. That’s weird. Let me try again.” He clicked the button again and looked at you with confusion. When the cycle finished, he looked astonished. “Babe, where did you say you were from again?”
“That’s what I’ve been meaning to tell you.” you said, shuffling in your spot. “My world was a big glitching mess. And then I found a little hole and appeared here. I don't know if I have a home anymore.”
Wade sighed and rubbed his hand down his face. “Great,” he whispered. “This can't be good.”
Spike leaned back in his chair and looked at the confusion on your face. “This isn’t your fault, love. But bad news, you can't go home. Because uh… I don't think home exists for you.”
All you remember after that was crying. You sat on the floor after the devices let you go and Spike rubbed your back, reassuring you that everything was going to be okay.
Of course, you knew that everything wasn’t going to be okay.
You were already exhausted and you realized it hadn’t even been a day.
“So, what am I supposed to do?” you asked, playing with the watch you were given.
“I would be more than happy to let you stay here,” Spike said, rubbing your back. “We have an extra room, we just have to clean it out a bit.”
“I don't want to be a burden.”
“It’ll just be for a little while,” he reassured you. “Now, I know this cyberpunk city of ours can seem like a lot once you step out of this little shop, but I think after a little bit of time, you can find a job and even your own home.”
You just nodded. You didn't have a clue what the word “cyberpunk” meant, but it sounded interesting enough. After realizing that you were still on the floor, you finally stood up and looked around the little place you were in. There were light up trinkets and soft beeps coming from either side of the room. It was so overwhelming. At home you were able to just sit on a couch and watch TV and in here, it looked like the only place you could rest was a chair that could roll across the floor.
To get your bearings wherever you were, you opened the front door and were immediately overstimulated. There were loud sirens, people yelling, doors slamming, advertisements that were yelling about various products, etc.
You quickly shut the door behind you and Wade laughed at the expression on your face.
“What’s so funny?” you scoffed.
He just waved you off and Spike walked over to you. “Wade and I know exactly how you feel. We were just as overwhelmed when we ended up here.”
“You’re not from here?”
“Nope! So, don't worry, your reaction and overwhelmingness is completely normal. Do you want something to eat?”
You hadn't even thought about food, but when asked the question, noticed how hungry you really were. “Yes please.” you said softly.
Spike walked down a long hall and you followed, not wanting to be left alone with Wade.
“So what was your home like?” he asked.
“Normal.” you laughed. You really didn't know how to answer that question.
He laughed back. “Not like this at all, I'm guessing.”
“Not at all.”
“See, ours was kind of like this,” Spike said as you got to the kitchen. “It was very techy, so we immediately knew what to do when we started ‘glitching’ if that’s what you wanna call it. We also know how to travel interdimensionally. That's how we ended up here. We traveled outside of our home and never found a way to get back. That machine couldn’t even tell us. I think what happened to your home also happened to ours while we were gone.”
“That sounds awful.”
Spike laughed. “Yeah, definitely awful. We’ve traveled everywhere, it feels like, but we just never found home. This was almost the closest to it. It looks like home in the future.”
“That makes sense.” It didn't, but it did. You didn't know how else to share your sympathy with him, especially considering the whole thing felt like an awful dream that you would never wake up from.
“What are you gonna do?” he asked you as he slid over your plate.
“No clue,” you admitted. “Maybe it’s delusional, but I want to find my family.”
“You found a way out. So maybe they did too.”
Just those few words from Spike’s mouth gave you hope. Perhaps too much.
Learning new things is really difficult, but you found yourself learning how to travel through space and time to be a piece of cake, to your surprise.
That hope that Spike had engraved in you when you first met years ago was still stuck in you and would always be until you found your family.
Even if you had to search until the day you died, you would be satisfied.
The craziest part of the whole thing though was that you became someone completely different over the years. You found yourself learning how to make your own tech to make interdimensionally traveling easier and buying clothes that made you look much different than you did back at home.
But you were lonely.
You met so many lovely people on your journey through this new life you created for yourself over the years, but none of them would stay like Miguel did. You even eventually drifted from Spike and Wade, getting your own house and having your own machines.
You would curl up and eat dinner by yourself on the balcony, dreaming to be in Miguel’s arms and listen to him hum a song to you in his deep voice.
“Hey, Miguel.” Lyla said, blowing on her nails she recently painted. “Whatcha doin?”
Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed. “Working. What does it look like I'm doing?”
“It looks like you're pouting. Not working. Nice try, but you can't fool me, buddy.” Lyla smirked.
“I'm not pouting! Why would I be pouting, Lyla? Hm? Now could you please leave me alone? You’re ruining my train of thought.”
“Now that’s just mean.” Lyla pouted.
Miguel blew a piece of his hair out of his eye and tried to sweep her away, which ended up making her leave with a giggle.
He took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair before turning back on his monitor to see your face.
“Miguel!” you giggled. “Smile for the camera.” You turned the camera to a happier Miguel. Someone who actually had a smile on his face.
A stranger.
Miguel quickly shut the monitor off before he would let himself be brought to tears. It was his fault you were gone. It was his fault he was in his current position. If he didn't fuck everything up and pretend he was your husband, none of this would’ve happened.
“Lyla, I'm going out.”
“Huh? Where?” She appeared with a digital Slurpee and tilted her head.
“Just out.”
“Bored outta your mind, big boss man.”
“Sure, whatever, just leave me alone.”
Lyla saluted and faded away. He didn't know where to go, but he would just go. With the power of the entire multiverse at his hands, it was hard to just find one place to go, but even so, it was nice to breathe some fresh air in other places.
Plus with the chance of seeing you…
He pulled the thought out of his mind. He watched his daughter fade away in his arms, there was no way that you were okay too. And god, did he hate himself for it. But even so, he repressed the feelings and journeyed to other universes, meeting other Spidermen and even greater foes – eyebags and all.
Where the hell am I? you thought as you ended up in a dimension unlike any you had been to before. It was so different from the others that for the first time in years, you actually had to pause.
You placed your hands on your hips and looked at the world around you. It reminded you of playing video games where you would go to other worlds and you yourself would change textures to match the ones around you. Unfortunately, the texture didn't go with you, so you were left as an actual human in a cartoon world.
The life you were living was definitely a dreamlike state and the thought of it made you laugh as you led yourself through the city.
This was the part you actually loved. You got to see what life was like for others through different dimensions and the struggles they had to deal with. Granted, it wasn't much different from your life when you weren’t forced to live like this, but either way, you still found it fun to see how different, yet similar it really was.
Sometimes you would end up in dimensions you had been to a thousand times or sometimes you would end up somewhere new.
Your favorite part though: everywhere had a Spiderman. And every Spiderman was just as unique as the last.
In this world, it seemed to be some pig, which was both hilarious and intriguing. You had seen a lot in your day, but never a pig Spiderman. You loved it though and seeing posters of him around this odd city made you laugh.
But you knew it was time to leave the moment you stepped in. You liked the crazy stuff, but this was a little too crazy for your liking.
Right as you opened a portal though, you heard a loud sound not too far away from you. You figured it was a fight that Spiderpig had gotten himself into, and were ready to leave, but you turned around to see something much crazier.
Not only was Spiderpig fighting, but there was another Spiderman with him. You couldn't help but stand in awe after you closed the portal you made.
He was dressed in dark blue and red and didn't look at all like the other Spidermen you had seen before. Something about him was not only different, but so so intriguing.
The fight didn't last long since the two were working hard to get it done quickly. So when they did finish, the tall Spiderman put Spiderpig on his shoulders and gave him a fistbump.
You had only noticed you were still just standing in the street and staring when the Spiderman froze.
You giggled nervously and muttered out a quick “good job guys” before turning down an alleyway so you could teleport out of there.
But right as you began down the alley, you felt something grab your wrist. When you turned around, it was that tall Spiderman, who tilted his head at you.
“y/n?” he said.
You took a step back. “S-Sorry?”
“Is your name y/n?”
You nodded and he pulled you into his arms before opening a portal very much like your own.
You ended up in a world with complete darkness, minus the bright yellow computers surrounding the walls. You looked at the place with curiosity, but were quickly pulled from your thoughts when you saw the Spiderman pacing the room back and forth and muttering to himself.
“Hey, are you alright?” you chuckled.
“How are you… How did you… Hold on, I need a minute.” He finally sat down and grabbed his chin. “Were you married?”
You laughed, thinking this was some sort of joke. “Yes, I was. To a man named Miguel. Why?”
“What the fuck?” he said under his breath.
“Excuse me?”
“How are you alive?!”
Just then, you recognized that voice. Everything from your past hit you like a semi and you fell to your knees, tears immediately filling your sockets.
“M-Miguel? Miguel, is that you?” you managed to get out.
The mask of his Spider-suit dematerialized and he looked at you with shock.
You looked at him the same and felt like you couldn't breathe. After all those years. After all that searching…
He ran to you and dropped on his knees, pushing your hair out of your face. “How did you…”
“How did you?” you giggled somehow, grabbing Miguel’s face and looking it over. Despite the eyebags and the new muscular features, that man was definitely your husband.
“I…” he started, but you pulled him into your arms. You hugged him until neither of you could breathe.
When you pulled away, you looked at him with so much excitement that it made him regret everything. He had lied to you for years and you were looking at him the same way you looked at your real husband who died.
“I can't believe you made it out alive, Miggy! Where’s Gabriella? I bet she’s all grown up and–”
“G-Gabriella’s gone.” The words felt like another 100 lbs weighed his chest down.
You looked at him with confusion. “She didn't make it?” you asked softly.
“No. She didn't. This is all my fault.” he buried his face in his hands.
“No it's not. How could any of this be your fault?” you rubbed his back.
“No, y/n,” he scooted back, every regret from his life filling him up and making him on the near edge of a panic attack. “This is my fault. I made this happen.”
“Miguel, I–”
“I'm not even your husband!” he cried out. He never felt like this before. He didn't even feel like Miguel. But something cracked in him when he saw you, and it was going to end up killing him if he didn't talk to you about it.
You laughed. “What? Of course you are.”
“Your husband died a very long time ago.”
“I'm so confused.” you admitted.
“I know. And I'm sorry.” he pulled you closer and sat down on the floor next to you. “Look, I was your husband. At least for a while. A couple months maybe. But your real husband… the Miguel O’Hara from your world… he died. I took his place. I wanted to be happy.” Slowly, the feeling of the near panic attack was going away the more he spoke to you. He explained everything. About how much he truly loved you and about how much he regretted destroying everything, including your daughter. He told you that he was selfish for what he did and admitted that if he could go back and never be with you just so you could have a fulfilled life with Gabriella and no Miguel, everything would be fine. He explained canon events and how the world worked for Spidermen like him and the rest of the multiverse.
Everything was so confusing, but based on everything you had been through, you weren't surprised.
You had seemingly loved a stranger for months and didn't even know it. But… he wasn't, that was the most confusing part. That man, Miguel O’Hara. Spiderman 2099. That was the man you fell in love with, even if you weren't a part of his dimension.
The whole situation shocked you to your core, but there was no going back now.
You laughed for some reason when he was done telling you everything. You really couldn't believe it. But again, you weren't surprised.
Miguel didn't mean to spill everything onto you, but it made him feel so much better. Tears were streaming down his face and he was trying to repress them when he saw how confused you looked.
“y/n, I am so sorr–”
You quickly cut him off by pulling him into your arms. Real husband or not, this poor man had to suffer through everything and now has the whole multiverse on his back to take care of because he feels like it’s his responsibility. He blamed himself for everything for years all because of a stupid accident.
But you weren't mad. He didn't know what would happen and all he wanted was to be happy. You didn't want to put more on him, so you just held him for a moment and let him sit there with you in silence.
Even if you didn't know this Miguel as well as you knew your husband, he was still Miguel.
“Don't blame yourself,” you whispered. “It's okay.”
He just pulled back from the hug and wiped his hair out of his face. “I'm sorry you had to live like you have been.” he told you.
“It was kinda fun.” You hugged your knees.
“The multiverse is definitely something, huh?”
You smiled and cupped Miguel’s face in your hands. You had been traveling for years all for this. Granted, you got a story out of it that you weren't expecting, but still. Miguel was in front of you again and you felt strangely at home.
You pressed a kiss to his nose. “I wanna try this again.” you said. “With us.”
“What do you mean?”
“First.” You pulled him by the front of his suit and pressed a long and needed kiss to his lips. He melted to your lips quickly, but the feeling ended quickly when you pulled away.
“What do you mean ‘try again?’ ” he asked.
“I'm y/n.” You stuck out your hand and smiled at him.
“I'm Miguel.” He took your hand and sighed with relief.
“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Maybe we should go on a date sometime.”
~~~~~
into the spiderverse masterlist | pinned post 2023 @tonberry-yoda – do not repost or claim ANY of my work as your own! likes, reblogs, and comments are not only welcome, but appreciated
~~~~~
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acaciapines · 5 months ago
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rereading random bits of descendants of olympus (as one does) and. vera <3 still soooo obsessed with how she takes lupa's divinity. like MAN.......there is something to how shes had to scrape and claw her way into every single good thing shes ever had. that she's never just been able to KEEP these things, that she is always always always fighting for them. and so of course she takes divinity. she wants to LIVE. and in this world where the fates themselves are trying to control her, its like--yeah. maybe you do need a gods power to finally get like, at least a year of the life you want. the life you werent supposed to have. forever thinking about vera's one line in her chapter thats like 'of course the fates are losing power. because they'd never let someone like leo into my life.' YELLS. FOREVER.
also have we talked enough about minnie I THINK WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT MINNIE--
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starlight-eclipsed · 2 days ago
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SHAKING YOU SHAKING YOU SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS I LOVE DOPPELGÄNGER AU ITS SO GOOD I LOVE THIS STORY AND ITS CONCEPT I AM FREAKING
Thank you!! <333
I feel like I repeat myself a lot when I talk about how happy I am to hear that and excited to share it, so have this message I wrote the day before I posted the first chapter of the AU.
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gothsuguru · 6 months ago
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confetti-cat · 2 years ago
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Each, All, Everything
Words: 6.5k
Rating: PG
Themes: Friendship, Self-Giving Love, Romantic Love
(Written for the Four Loves Fairytale Retelling challenge over at the @inklings-challenge! A retelling of Nix, Nought, Nothing.)
The giant’s daughter weeps, and remembers.
She remembers the day her father first brought him home.
It was a bit like the times he’d brought home creatures to amuse her while he was on his journeys, away on something he called “business” but she knew was “gathering whatever good of the land he wanted”. Her father had brought back a beautiful pony, once—a small one he could nearly carry in one huge hand. One for her, and not another for his collection of horses he kept in the long stables. She wasn’t as tall as the hills and broad as the cliffs like he was, so she couldn’t carry it easily, but she heaved it up in both arms and tried nonetheless. (And—she thought this was important—stopped trying when it showed fear.) She was gentle to it, and in time, she would only need speak to it and it would come eat from her hand like a tame bird. She’d never been happier.
(The pony had grown fearful of her father. Her father grew angry with anything that wasted his time by cowering or trying to flee him. There was a terrible commotion in the stables one day, and when she sought her pony afterward, she couldn’t find him. Her father told her it was gone, back to the forest, and he’d hear no more of it if she didn’t want beaten.)
(There was a sinking little pit in her stomach that knew. But when she didn’t look for the best in her father, it angered him and saddened her, so she made herself believe him.)
The final little creature he brought one day was so peculiar. It was a human boy, small as the bushes she would sometime uproot for paintbrushes, dressed in fine green like the trees and gold like her mother’s vine-ring she wore. He seemed young, like her. His tuft of brown hair was mussed by the wind, and his dark eyes watched everything around him, wide and unsure and curious.
When he first looked at her from his perch on her father’s shoulder, he stared for a long moment—then lifted a tiny hand in a wave. Suddenly overwhelmed with hope and possibilities (a friend! Surely her father had blessed her with a small friend they could keep and not just a pet!), she lifted her own hand in a little wave and tried to smile welcomingly.
The boy stared for another long moment, then seemed to try a hesitant smile back.
“This,” boomed her father, stooping down in the mist of the morning as he waved away a low cloud with one hand, “is what I rightly bargained for. A prince, very valuable. The King of the South—curse his deceitful aims!—promised him to me.”
“He looks very fancy,” she’d said, eyes wide in wonder. “How did the king come to give him to you, Father?”
“How indeed!” the giant growled, so loud it sent leaves rattling and birds rushing to fly from their trees. He slowly lowered himself to be seated on the weathered cliff behind him and picked up his spark-stone, tossing a few felled trees into their fire-basin and beginning to work at lighting them. “Through lies and deceit from him. When he asked me to carry him across the waters I asked him for Nix, Nought, Nothing in return.”
The little boy shifted, clearly uncomfortable but afraid to move much. Her father scowled, though he meant it as a smile, and bared his yellowed teeth as he laughed.
“Imagine his countenance when he returned to find the son he’d not known he’d had was called Nix, Nought, Nothing! He tried to send servant boys, but I am too keen for such trickery. Their blood is on the hands of the liar who sent them to me.”
Such talk from her father had always unsettled her, even if he said it so forcefully she couldn’t imagine just how it wasn’t right. Judging from the way the boy curled in on himself a little, clinging meekly to her father’s tattered shirt-shoulder, he thought similarly.
“Nix, Nought, Nothing?” She observed the small prince, unsure why disappointment arose in her at the way he seemed hesitant to look at her now. “That is a strange name.”
Her father struck the rocks, the sound of it so loud it echoed down the valley in an odd, uneven manner. He shook his head as he worked, a stained tooth poking out of his lips as he struck it again and again until large sparks began alighting on the wood.
“His mother tarried christening him until the father returned, calling him such instead.” He huffed a chuckle that sounded more like a sneer, seeming to opt to ignore the creature on his shoulder for the time being. “You know the feeling, eh, Bonny girl?”
The boy tentatively looked up at her again.
The fire crackled and began to eat away at the bark and dry pine needles. A soft orange glow began to creep over it, leaving black char as it went. With a sudden, sharp breath by her father, a large flame leapt into the air.
“It is good that she did so. He is Nix, Nought, Nothing—and that he will remain.”
Nix Nought Nothing grew to be a fine boy. Her father treated him as well as he did the prized horses he’d taken from knights and heroes—which was to say that the boy was given decent food and a dry place to sleep and the richest-looking clothes a tailor could be terrified into giving them, which was as well as her father treated anything.
Never a day went by that she was not thankful and with joy in her heart at having a friend so near.
They spent many days while her father was away exploring the forest—Nix would collect small rocks and unusual leaves and robin’s-eggs and butterflies, and she would lift him into high trees to look for nests, and sometimes stand in the rivers and splash the waterfalls at him just to laugh brightly at his gawking and laughing and sputtering.
Some days she wished she was more of a proper giant. She wasn’t large enough for it to be very comfortable giving him rides on her shoulder once he’d grown. She was hesitant to look any less strong, however, so she braided her golden curls to keep them from brushing him off and simply kept her head tilted away from him as they walked through the forests together.
He could sit quite easily and talk by her ear as they adventured. Perhaps she would never admit it, but she liked that. Most of the time.
“I’m getting your shoulder wet,” he protested, still sopping wet from the waterfall. He kept shifting around, trying to sit differently and avoid blotching her blue dress with more water than he already had. “I hope you’re noticing this inconveniences you too?”
“Yes,” Bonny laughed. “You’re right. I hope there’s still enough sun to dry us along the way back. Father won’t be pleased otherwise.”
“Exactly. Perhaps you should have thought that through before drenching me!” he huffed, but she could hear the grin in his tone even if she couldn’t quite turn her head to see it. He flicked his arm toward her and sent little droplets of water scattering across the side of her face.
Her shoulders jerked up involuntarily as the eye closest to him shut and she tried to crane her neck even further away, chuckling. Nix made a noise like he’d swallowed whatever words were on his tongue, clutching to her shoulder and hair to steady himself.
“You’d probably be best not trying to get me while I’m giving you a ride?” Bonny suggested, unable to help a wry smile.
“Yes. Agreed. Apologies.” His words came so stilted and readily that she had to purse her lips to keep in a laugh. As soon as he relaxed, his voice grew a tad incredulous. “Though—wait, I can’t exactly do anything once I’m down. Are you trying to escape my well-earned retaliation?”
“I would never,” she assured him, no longer trying to hide her smile. “I’ll put you in a tree when we get back and you can splash me all you like.”
Somehow, his voice was amused and skeptical and unimpressed by the notion all at once.
“Really? You’d do that?” he asked, sounding as if he were stifling a smirk.
She shrugged—gently, of course, but with a little inward sense of mischievousness—and he yelped again at the movement.
“Well, it would take a lot of water to get a giant wet,” she reasoned. “I doubt you’ll do much. But yes, for you, I would brave it.”
He chuckled, and she ventured a glance at him out of the corner of her eye.
“Bonny and brave,” he said, looking up at her with a little smile and those dark eyes glimmering with light. “You are a marvel.”
It would probably be very noticeable to him if she swallowed awkwardly and glanced away a bit in embarrassment. She tried not to do that, and instead gave him a crooked little smile in return.
“Hm,” was all she could say. “And what about you?”
“Me? Oh, I’m Nothing.” The jest was terrible, and would still be terrible even if she hadn’t heard it numerous times. “But you are truly a gem among girls.”
If by gem he meant a giantess who still had to enlist his help disentangling birds from her hair, then perhaps. She snorted.
“I don’t know how you would know. You don’t know any other girls.”
“Why would I need to?” His face was innocent, but his eyes were sparkling with mirth and mischief. “You’re the size of forty of them.”
The noise that erupted from her was so abrupt and embarrassingly like a snort it sent the branches trembling. She plucked him off her shoulder and set him gently on the ground so she could swat at him as gently as she could—careful not to strike him with the leaf-motifs on her ring—though it still knocked him off his feet and into the grass. He was laughing too hard to seem to mind, and she couldn’t stifle her laughs either.
“Well, you are really something,” she teased, unable to help her wide smile as she tried futilely to cast him a disapproving look.
That quieted him. He pushed himself to sit upright in the grass, and looked out at the woods ahead for a long moment.
“You think?” Nix asked quietly.
She smiled down at him.
“Yes,” she laughed softly. “Of course.” When he looked up at her, brown eyes curious, she held his gaze and hoped he could see just how glad she was to know him. “Everything, even.”
A small smile grew on his own face, lopsided and warm. He ducked his head a bit and looked away from her again, and embarrassment started to fill her—but it was worth it.
It often weighed on her heart to say that more than she did. She supposed she was the type of person who liked to show such things rather than say them.
She had a cramp in one of her shoulders from trying to carry him smoothly, but the weight on the other one—and on his—seemed far lighter.
She remembered the day her father came home livid.
She couldn’t figure out what had happened. Had he been wounded? Insulted? Tricked? He wouldn’t say.
He just raged. The trees bent under his wrath as he stamped them down, carving a new path through the forest. He picked up boulders and flung them at cliffsides, the noise of the impacts like thunder as showers of shattered stone flew in all directions.
She was tending to the garden a ways off—huge vines and stalks entwined their ways up poles and hill-high arbors made from towering pines, where she liked to work and admire how the sunset made the leaves glow gold—and suddenly had a sharp, sinking feeling.
Nix was still at his little shelter-house at their encampment. Her father was there.
Dread washed over her.
“Riddle me this, boy,” her father boomed, in the voice he only used when he wanted an excuse to strike something. “What is thick like glass and thin as air, cold but warm, ugly but fair? Fills the air yet never fills it, never exists but that all things will it?”
There was silence for a long moment.
...Silence. The answer was silence. Her father was trying to trick him into speaking.
Her hands curled around the bucket handle so weakly it was a surprise she didn’t drop it. Her father could crush him if he felt he had the slightest excuse.
Hush, hush, hush, her mind pleaded. Her hands shook. For your life and mine, hush—
There continued to be silence for a moment—and then, Nix must have answered. (Perhaps in jest. He tended to joke when uncertain. That would have been a mistake.)
There came the indescribable sound of a tree being ripped from its roots, and the deafening thunder of it being thrown and smashing down trees and structures.
Her whole body tensed horribly, and all she could see in her mind’s eye was nightmares.
No, she thought weakly.
Her father kept shouting. But not just shouting, addressing. Asking scathing rhetorical questions. She felt faint with relief, because her father had never wasted words on the dead.
I should have brought him with me. The thought flooded her body and left room for nothing else but dread and regret. I could have prevented this.
The stables were long and broad and old. Once, they had housed armies’ steeds and chariots. Now, they were run-down and reinforced so nothing could escape out the doors. The roof was broken off like a lid on hinges at intervals so her father could reach in to arrange and feed his horses.
Her father had seen no reason to keep the stalls clean. When one was so packed with bedding it had decomposed to soil at the floor level, the horse was moved to the next unused stall. There were so many stalls that she barely remembered, sometimes, that there were other ways of addressing the problem.
“The stable has not been cleaned in seven years,” her father boomed. “You will clean it tomorrow, or I will eat you in my stew.”
She couldn’t hear Nix’s response, but she could feel his dread.
Her father stormed away, more violently than any storm, and slowly, after the echoes of his steps faded, silence again began to hang in the air.
That night, it was hard to sleep. The next morning, it was hard to think.
She did the only thing she could think to do in such a nervous state. She brought her friend breakfast. His favorite breakfast—a roast leg of venison and a little knife he could use to cut off what he wanted of it, and fried turkey-eggs, and a modest chunk of soft brown bread.
When she arrived with it, he was still mucking out the first stall. There were hundreds ahead of him. He was only halfway to the floor of the first.
“I can’t eat,” Nix murmured, almost too quietly to hear and with too much misery to bear. “I can’t stop. But thank you.”
The pile outside the door he’d opened up was already growing too large. Of every pitchfork-full he threw out, some began to tumble back in. He was growing frustrated, and out of breath.
Why would her father raise a boy, a prince, only to eat him now? Her father was cunning; surely he’d had other plans for him. Or perhaps he really was kept like the horses, as a trophy or prize taken from the human kingdoms that giants so hated.
Was this his fate? Worked beyond reason, only to be killed?
Pity—or something stronger, perhaps, that she couldn’t name—stirred in her heart. A heat filled her veins, burning with sadness and a desire to set right. Would the world be worthwhile without this one small person in it?
No.
This wouldn’t end this way.
She called to the birds of the air and all the creatures of the forest. Her heart-song was sad and pure—so when she pleaded with them, to please hear, please come and carry away straw and earth and care for what has been neglected, they listened.
The stable was clean by the time the first stars appeared. When she set Nix gently on her shoulder afterward, he hugged the side of her head and laughed in weary relief for a long while.
She remembered the lake, and the tree.
“Shame on the wit who helped you,” her father had boomed. He’d inspected the stable by the light of his torch—a ship’s mast he’d wrapped the sails around the top of and drenched in oil—and found every last piece of dirt and straw gone. Had he known it was her, that she could do such a thing? She couldn’t tell. “But I have a worse task for you tomorrow.”
The lake nearest them was miles long, and miles wide, and so deep that even her father could not ford it.
“You will drain it dry by nightfall, or I will have you in my stew.”
The next morning, soon as her father had gone away past the hills, she came to the edge of the lake. She could hear the splashing before she saw it.
Nix stood knee-deep in the water, a large wooden bucket in his hands, struggling to heave the water out and into a trench he’d dug beside the shore.
When she neared him and knelt down in the sand, scanning the water and the trench and the distant, distant shoreline opposite them, Nix fell still for a moment. She looked at him, hoping he could see the apology in her eyes.
“Can I help?” she asked.
He shook his head miserably.
“Thank you. But even if we both worked all day, we couldn’t get it dry before nightfall.” He gave her a wry, sad smile, full of pain. “The birds and the creatures can’t carry buckets, I’m afraid.”
It was true. They could not take away the water.
But perhaps other things could.
She stood and drew a deep breath, and called to the fish of the rivers and lake, and to the deep places of the earth to please hear, please open your mouths and drain the lake dry.
With a tumult that shook the earth beneath them all, they did. The chasm it left in the land was great and terrible, but it was dry.
Her father was livid to see it.
“I’ve a worse job for you tomorrow,” he’d thundered at Nix as the twilight began to darken. “There is a tree that has grown from before your kind walked this land. It is many miles high, with no branches until you reach the top. Fetch me the seven eggs from the bird’s nest in its boughs, and break none, or I will eat you before the day is out.”
She found Nix at dawn the next day at the foot of the tree, staring up it with an expression more wearied than she’d ever seen before. She looked up the tree as well. It seemed to stretch up nearly to the clouds, its trunk wide and strong with not a foothold in sight. At the top, its leaves shone a faint gold in the sunlight.
“He is wrong to ask you these things,” Bonny said softly. Her words hung in the air like the sunbeams seemed to hang about the tree. There was something special about this place, some old power with roots that ran deep. “I’m very sorry for it.”
“You needn’t be,” Nix assured her. His countenance was grey, but he tried to smile. “But thank you. You’re very kind.”
She looked up the tree again. Uncertainty filled her, because this was an old tree—a strong one. Even if it could hear her, it had no obligation to listen. “Will you try?”
He laughed humorlessly. “What choice do I have?”
None. He had none.
He could not escape for long on his own—he could not be gone fast enough or hide safely enough for her father not to sniff him out. The destruction that would follow him would be far more than he would wish on the forests and villages and cities about them.
She, however, bit her lip.
She slipped the gold vine-ring off her hand, and rolled it so that it spiraled between her fingers. It was finely crafted, made to look like it was a young vine wrapping its way partly up her finger.
“This is all I have of my mother,” she said quietly. “But it will serve you better.”
Before he could speak—she knew him well enough to know that he would bid her to stop, to not lose something precious on his account (as if he weren’t?)—she whispered a birdlike song, and pleaded with the gold and the tree and the old good in the world to help them.
When she tossed the ring at the base of the tree (was it shameful that she had to quell a sadness that tried to creep into her heart?), it writhed. One end of it rooted into the ground, and suddenly it was no longer gold, but yellow-green—and the vine grew, and grew, curling around the tree as it stretched upward until it was nearly out of sight.
Nix stared at her with wide eyes and an emotion she couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was, it made her ears warm.
She smiled slightly and stepped back, tilting her head at the vine.
“Well?” she said. He was still staring at her with that look—some mix of awestruck and like he was trying to draw together words—and it made her fold her arms lightly and smile as she looked away. She quickly looked back to him, hoping faintly that her embarrassment wasn’t obvious. “You’d best hurry. That’s still a long way up.”
He seemed to give up finding words for the moment. Nix glanced up the tree, now decked with a spiral of thick, knobby vine that looked nearby like uneven stairs.
“Give me a boost?” he asked with a bright grin. “To speed it up.”
She laughed and gently scooped him up in both hands. “A boost, or just a boost?”
He beamed at her. “As high as you can get me,” he declared, waving an arm dramatically.
She laughed and shook her head. ”Absolutely not. Ready?”
Nix nodded, and she smiled thinly and poured all her focus into a spot a good distance up the tree. With a very gentle but swift motion, she tossed him upward a bit—and he landed on his feet on the vine, one shoulder against the bark, clutching to the tree for support as he laughed.
“A marvel!” he shouted down to her as he climbed. “Never forget that!”
The sun was nearly setting when he descended with the eggs bundled in his handkerchief. He was glowing.
He triumphantly hopped down the last few feet to the ground.
A moment after he landed, a soft crack sounded. He froze.
Slowly, he drew the bundle more securely into his arms against him and looked down. There, by his foot, was a little speckled egg, half-broken in the grass.
She put a hand over her mouth. Nix clutched the rest and stared.
A grievous pain and numbness slowly filled her heart, and she knew it was filling his too.
His shoulders began to shake, and his eyes were glassy.
“Well,” he laughed weakly. ”...That’s it. That’s... that was my chance.” The distress that overtook him was like a dark wave, and it threatened to cover her too. He only shook his head. “I’m so sorry. Thank you for—for helping me.”
For everything, she didn’t give him a chance to add. He was looking at her with the eyes of one who might say that. She couldn’t afford to be overcome with the notion of saying goodbye now.
“No,” she said. Her voice was quiet, at first, but it grew more resolute. “It won’t end this way.”
He blinked up at her, still clutching the other eggs to his chest. She looked down at him, then across the stretch of forest to their home.
Without a word, she gently picked him up and set him on her shoulder. Her jaw tensed as she strode quickly through well-worn paths of the forest, walking as fast as a horse could run.
Once home, she set him down. He was still looking at her questioningly. Her heart beat faster in her chest, and she hoped he couldn’t see the anxiousness rising in her and battling with the excitement.
“I will not let him have you,” she announced firmly. The trees and hills all around were witness to her promise. “Grab what you need. We’ll leave together in the hour.”
She‘d barely had time to fix her hair, grab her water flask, and decide it would be best this time of year to go south.
Her father’s footsteps boomed closer across the land.
They fled.
They ran, and ran, and struggled and strove, and she called for the help of anything she could think of that would have mercy on them.
Her comb grew into thorns, her hairpin into a hedge of jagged spires. Neither stopped him. Her dress’s hem was in tatters and sweat poured from her brow when they were finally safe.
Her flask lay behind them, cast down and broken, its magic used up.
Her father—her father—lay stretched out motionless in the flooded plain behind them, never to rise again.
There was a tiny spark of hope they had that they clung to. A hope of a future, of restoration, of amending the past and pursuing peace—of a life worth living, perhaps far, far away from things worth leaving behind.
(“I’ll go to the castle,” he’d said, his voice brimming with nerves and hope and uncertainty and sadness and an eager warmth. It made her heart try to mirror all those emotions alongside him. “I can tell my mother and father who I am. I’d still recognize them, even if they don’t know me. They’ll take us in, I’m sure of it.”)
He set out into the maze of village streets, assuring her he’d ask for directions and be back promptly. She stayed back by the well at the edge of the town so not to alarm anyone, too exhausted to go another step, but full of hope for him. She would wait until he returned.
(And wait. And wait. And wait and wait and wait and dread—)
The castle gardener came to draw water, and—as if she weren’t as tall as the small trees under the huge one she sat against—struck up a conversation with her about the mysterious boy who’d fallen unconscious across the threshold of the castle, asleep as if cursed to never wake up.
(The spark didn’t last long.)
She remembered when he could move.
“Please,” she whispered, as soft as her voice would go. “Please, if you can hear me. Wake up.”
(“Oh, dearest,” the gardener’s frail wife had murmured to her when the kind gardener brought her home to partake of a bit of supper. “I’m afraid they won’t let you in as you are. Would you let me sing you a catch as you eat?”)
The gardener’s wife was frailer by the end of it, but her heart-song could change things, like her own. Instead of towering at the heights of the houses, she was now six feet tall by human reckoning, and still thankful the castle had high halls and tall doors.
(Their daughter, a fair maiden with a shadow about her, had watched from the doorway.)
Nix Nought Nothing lay nearly motionless in the cushioned chair the castle servants had placed him in. His chest rose and fell slowly, like he was in a deep sleep.
He was still smaller than she was, but not by much. He seemed so large, or close. She could see details she’d never noticed before—his freckles, the definition of his eyelashes, the scuffs and loose threads in his tunic.
The way his head hung as if he could no longer support it.
She held him gently—oddly, now, with both her hands so small on his arms and an uncertainty of what to do now—and wept over him. She sung through her tears, her heart pleading with his very soul, but to no avail. He did not wake up.
He didn’t hear her—likely couldn’t hear her. All around him, the air was sharp and still and dead. Cursed.
Still, her heart pleaded with her, now. Try, try. Don’t stop speaking to him. Remember? He never stopped trying.
“You joke that you are nothing," she said, with every drop of earnestness in her being. "But I tell you, you are all I had, and all I had ever wished for.”
There was power in names. She knew that. But was his even a proper name? It really wasn’t—though it was all he had.
It was all she had as well. She had exhausted everything else close to her. There was nothing left to call on, to plead with, but him.
“Nix Nought Nothing,” she said softly. “Awaken, please.”
Her voice, no longer so resonant and deep with giant’s-breath, sounded foreign in her ears. It was mournful and soft like the doves of the rocks, and grieved like the groan of the earth when it split.
“I cleaned the stable, I lave the lake, and clomb the tree, all for the love of thee,” she said, her voice thickening with tears. A drop of saltwater fell and landed on his tunic, creating another of many small blotches. “And will you not awaken and speak to me?”
Nothing.
She didn’t remember being shown out of the room. Her vision was too blurred, and her mind was too distraught and overwhelmed. The next thing she could focus on enough to recall was that she was now seated on a stiff chair in the hall. Someone had been kind enough to set a cup of water on the little table beside her.
The towering doors creaked softly behind her, and at last, someone new entered. She looked over her shoulder, barely able to see through the dry burning left behind by her tears.
A man and a woman stood in the door. They were dressed in fine robes, and looked like nobles.
"What is the matter, dear?" the woman asked, looking over her appearance with eyes soft with pity. She came close, and her presence was like cool balm, gentle and comforting. "Why do you weep?"
The gold roses woven in the green of the woman's dress swam in her vision as she dropped her gaze, unsure what to say. These people seemed kind. But were they? Would they send her out from here, unable to return to him?
They would be right to do so. She was a stranger here, and Nix could not vouch for her like he'd planned.
"No matter what I do," she finally said softly, "I cannot get Nix Nought Nothing to awaken and speak to me."
In one moment, only the woman stood there—in the next, the man was beside her. The air was suddenly still and heavy like glass, and it felt as though there was a thread drawn taut between them all for a moment.
"Nix Nought Nothing?" they asked in unison, their voices full of something tense and heavy and sharp. When she looked up, nearly fearful at the sudden change in their tone, their faces were slack and pale.
Something stirred in her heart. Look. What do you see?
Green and gold. Their wide eyes were a familiar warm brown.
Now, things are changing.
According to the servant who'd been keeping an eye on him, all from the kingdom had been offered reward if they could wake the sleeping stranger, and the the gardener's daughter had succeeded. It was a mystery how it had happened—by whom had he been cursed? Her father? Then why could she not wake him, but a maiden from the castle-town here could?—but now, with the King and Queen hovering beside her and unable to stay still for anticipation, no one cared.
The gardener's daughter was fetched, and bid to sing the unspelling catch for the prince. (Prince. He was a prince, while she was a ruffian's daughter. She kept forgetting, when she was with him.) It was a haunting one that grated on her ears, as selfishly-written magics often did—and as if bitterness still crept at the girl's heart at the sight of all who were here, she left as soon as it was finished.
Nix Nought Nothing awoke—he awoke! He opened his eyes and sat up and looked at her as if seeing the sunrise after a year of darkness, and how her heart leaps high into her throat at the sight—and true to form, only blinks a few times at her as he seems to take her in before coming to terms with it.
"You look a bit different," he remarks, tilting his head slightly. "Or did I grow?"
She chokes on a snort.
"Hush," is all she can say. What had been an attempt at an unimpressed expression melts into a wavering smile. "Are you done napping now?"
He opens his mouth to retort, but a grin creeps onto his face before he can. He snickers. "Have I slept that long?"
"Nigh a week," the Queen says—and when Nix turns his head and sees her, his eyes grow wide. The Queen's smile grows broad and wavers with emotion, and the King's eyes are crinkled at the edges, and shining. "It has been a long time."
Her own father had never shown love like this—like the way Nix tries to leap from his chair at the same moment his parents rush to hold him, all of them laughing and sobbing and shouting exclamations of love and excitement and I-thought-I-would-never-see-you-agains. So much joy rolls off of them that she thinks she could have stood there watching forever and been content.
The first thing he does, after the first surge of this, is turn and introduce her to his parents, who had barely finished hugging him and kissing him and calling him their own dear son.
"This is the one who helped me," Nix says, already gesturing to her in excitement as he looks from her to his parents. "She sacrificed much to save me from the giant. Her kindness is brilliant and she blesses all who know her."
She tries not to look embarrassed at the glowing praise as Nix comes and stands beside her as he recounts their blur of a tale to his parents.
"Ah! She is bonny and brave," says the King. By the end of Nix's stories of their escapes, they're smiling warmly at her with such pride that she dips her head and smiles.
Nix Nought Nothing glances sideways up at her and raises a brow, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.
"I've tried to tell her that," he agrees. "I don't think she's ever believed me."
She purses her lips and glances down at him. "I'll believe it the day you believe you are not nothing."
"Alright." Simple as that, he folds his arms and raises a brow at her. "I believe it. Fair trade?"
"Fair enough," she decides, with a crooked little smile. He beams, as if she's done something worth being proud of, and looks to his parents, who indeed look proud of them both.
"We would welcome you as our daughter," the King declares heartily, and both the Queen and Nix brighten, which makes her too embarrassedly fixated on the thought of family? Starting anew? to register what comes next. "Surely, you should be married!"
Nix looks at her, arms still folded, his eyes twinkling. There's something hopeful in his eyes that makes her certain this diminutive new heart of hers has skipped a few beats.
"Should we? Surely?" he asks, as if this is a normal thing to be discussing.
She works her jaw and swallows a few times, unable to help how obviously awkward she still likely looks. A flush tickles her face, and the queen seems to put a hand over her mouth to smile behind it.
"I... don't... suppose... I would mind," she manages, and—with those bright eyes so affectionate, and on her—Nix starts snickering at her expression. It's rude, but so, so warm she can't mind. She only discovers how broadly she's smiling when she tries to purse her lips and glare at him but is unable to. "Oh, go back to sleep!" she chides, too gleeful inside to truly mind, even as she makes a motion as if throwing one of the chair-cushions at him.
"Never!" he declares, pretending to dodge the invisible pillow. He makes broad gestures that she presumes are meant to emphasize how serious he is about this. When he stands straight and tall and sets his shoulders, she thinks that the boy she's explored the forest with really does look like a prince. "I have my family and my love all together in safety at last. We have much to speak of, and much time yet to spend with each other." He's a prince, but of course, he's also still himself. He immediately gets a mischievous glimmer in his eyes and puts a hand to his chest nobly as he does what he's done for as long as she's known him—jokes, when his emotions rise. "I shall never adhere to a bedtime as long as I live!"
My love, her heart still repeats every time it beats—as payback, likely, for her calling it diminutive. My love, my love, my love.
She doesn't let it out, for she doesn't know what it will do. But the words weave a song within her, so vibrant and effervescent and strong, brighter and clearer than any she's had before.
"I am glad to see you are certainly still my dear son," the Queen says, her own eyes twinkling. "I'm certain you both need fed well after such a journey. Come, perhaps you both can tell us more of it as supper is prepared."
They fall into an easy tumble of conversation and rejoicing and genial planning, and her heart is so light she thinks it must be plotting to escape her chest.
On the week's end from when she brought him here, Nix Nought Nothing and his family welcomes her into their home. It feels natural. It feels warm, and homey, and so pleasant and right that she often has to stop tears of weary joy from welling up as she considers it all.
Once upon a time, she thought she'd known happiness well enough without him. She had known what it was like to be without a friend, and without love.
Now, it’s hard to remember it.
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s-ccaam-era-crepe · 2 years ago
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Here it is!! Final chapter to my gift fic, I had a blast writing this and everyone who participated in the exchange was so nice!!
Special thanks to the mods of @dndads-winter-gift-exchange for putting this on, it was a lot of fun! And thank you to @woodytpt01 for the prompt I loved writing for them! and I hope you enjoyed
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kaiisers · 1 year ago
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well, this is… likely unnecessary lol, since I don’t interact with anyone on here anymore (my fault for sure 🤡), but still there’s something pushing me to do this, so, here goes
it pains me to say, but this blog will no longer be active, as I’ve decided to move to a brand new one where i hope I can enjoy being on this app, and enjoy reading and not feeling like shit.
this blog has long stopped feeling like my safe space, my cozy/messy little reading corner, and… idk, I’m kind of in a funk right now that has left me feeling like… I’m not welcome here??? which is weird but I’ve been told those are remnants of my past so 🤡 we love that feeling 🤡 n e ways, the queue will still be running, everything will still be up since I don’t have the patience to actually transfer everything into my new blog, so maybe I’ll occasionally pop in… but that’s doubtful. if by any chance anyone reads this (and this far lol) and wants to follow me on my new blog, feel free to comment and I’ll be sure to send you the url :)
I’ll always be thankful for the people I met here and for being nice despite my awkwardness, and for making me come back here even when I felt like I didn’t deserve to.
love, vee <3
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hope-inthedark · 2 years ago
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PSA: I am still writing The Serpent’s House (I swear I am not lying I have just had much Life happening lately, check tags for more detail) and a new chapter is with my betas now and will be coming soon I promise. For real this time. Please believe me.
Sorry for vanishing and also being the worst for leaving anyone who is still reading this goshdarned fic on a cliffhanger for six months :) If you’ve stuck around: oh god, please let me buy you several beverages of your choice for your patience.
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nascentus-morimur · 2 years ago
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Gotta have a minute to rant. It’s not anything too deep, just something I want to talk about on here.
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My mom said earlier that all cartoons are made for kids. (She goes to sleep when cartoons are on. I’m the opposite, I don’t like watching anything but cartoons lol)
So I, of course, went on to say “what about like Rick and Morty?” And she went on a whole tangent about how AS was made for adult children and cartoons are all dumb and have no value to adults and how I need to grow up and watch “real” tv.
I’m on my third rewatch of Trollhunters by Guillermo del Toro, and amazing show by an amazing man. It’s inspiring to me, and it brings me a lot of joy. The messages are applicable to my life all over the place and the animation is absolutely incredible.
It does not make me an “adult child” just because I enjoy tv shows made for children. There are real life lessons that I feel that I can take away from these shows that most of the “adult shows” my mother enjoys couldn’t come close to replicating.
Another thing to remember, these shows were made by adults, adults who spent hours and days and weeks working on them. There are tons of successful adults who make these children’s shows. I don’t think they would think badly of you if you enjoyed what they worked hard on.
I don’t think someone who loves you should look down on you for enjoying something, even if it’s not something they enjoy.
~check the tags for a bit more~
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backslashdelta · 2 years ago
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DID YOU MEAN PLATONIC SOULMATES I'M BAWLING. YES I DID MEAN THAT THANK YOU. Also I got sent this and I was feeling things and then I was like "wait BELLA MADE THIS" and then I felt more things because you're awesome and I miss you. anyway. it's after nine which is basically 3am for me these days that's why I'm being like this but also everything I've said is accurate
STOP HI I WANNA CRY THIS MADE ME SO HAPPY I MISS YOU TOO I'M SO GLAD I HAVE ANONS ENABLED RIGHT NOW SO YOU COULD SEND ME THIS
I saw the tags that that was gonna be sent to you and I was super excited you'd get to see it and I often think about you when I think about Kelliott because I know you have an appreciation for them 💙
Anyway thank you sooooo much you're also awesome and I miss you and you just brightened my day so much. I hope you and your family are doing well!!
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thebestandworstdayofjune · 3 months ago
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i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there
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summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!
The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 
It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 
Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 
They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 
“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 
Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 
“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 
“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 
You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 
Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 
Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 
The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”
“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 
Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 
“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 
“Are you sure you want me to?”
“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 
At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 
You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 
You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 
He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 
“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 
“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 
He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 
He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 
Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 
He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 
You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 
“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 
“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”
“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 
You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 
“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 
“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 
“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 
“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 
He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 
He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 
as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!
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