#Is there going to be anyone who reads all of this anyway

[blackkittiesinabox]

... Im 99% sure you missed the entire point of that circulating post

If its the same one i saw, it was not telling ppl to "be nice to misogynists 🥺🥺"

It was saying stop treating all men as in evil

It was saying if we demonise men from birth, they are more likely to take the side of those who demonise us back

That post was never about misogynistic men

It was about the harm we do to both others and our own community by demonising an an entire section of the sex (and partially gender - as transmen/adjacent are also often included despite of sex - ) binary

If a guys being a misogynist, absolutely fuck. Him. Up. However, stop talking as if all men, males, amabs, or however you wish to specify it are shitty ppl, thats what the post was telling you to do, as that infact hurts EVERYONE involved, again that includes straight men, gay men, transmen, transwomen, intersex folks, nonbinary folks, literally everyone and anyone you can think of who isnt a cis-women and could potentially have ties to masculinity in whichever way

The post said it itself, i get the damn sence you didn't even read the post, immediately saw "be nice to men" and went "EW!!!! NO!!! MEN BAD!!! ICKY!!!" and didn't go further, didn't read enough to realise this effects more than heterosexual cis-men

Anyways imma stop ranting before i lose it

Nooo mutual don’t put that “men fall down the alt-right pipeline bc women/feminists are too mean” post on my dash nooo mutual don’t try to say women need to be nicer when dealing with misogynistic men nooo mutual nooo

[mononijikayu]

and there was something 'bout you (that now I can't remember) — fushiguro megumi.

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.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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?

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

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.

[wizzdot]

Sunshine

Description: just an idea I had. Might make it a series. Might not. Reader’s callsign is “Ray”. TW - Reader is depressed and has been through some shit.

Not decided who I’m going to make the main love interest, if anyone at all. Hell, not even decided if it’s worth continuing. Hit me up with ideas if you like what you read…

The rain hammers against the living room window. The window of your shitty, little rented flat in a dodgy, shitty area. It was cheap though. And it was a roof -albeit a temperamental, leaky one - over your head.

It was your decision, after all. You could still be slaving away as a soldier. Giving your all, with no reward. What had you even been fighting for, anyway? Oh yeah! Arrogant men wanting to play a game of chess with your life. Nah. You’d choose your shit flat and shit job, thanks.

The bottle of cheap wine looks real nice right about now, what with the rain not letting up. But you hadn’t done a food shop for two weeks, and you’d used your last packet of instant noodles last night. Shit.

Your jacket is still damp from this morning, you notice, feeling regretful for not hanging it up over the radiator as you zip it up. It’s not as if you allow yourself the expense of using the central heating anyway. You tuck the stray bits of hair, that were poking out, underneath the hood and brace yourself.

“Once more into the void” you tut lamely to yourself, before stepping into the rain, on the hunt for dinner. ‘Goin’ fuckin’ mad, talking to myself now’ you roll your eyes at the voice in your head, sick to the back teeth of your failing life.

The familiar, chipped door of the local corner shop jingles as you enter. You stamp the wet off of your boots on the dirty mat at the door, not that it made a jot of difference to the trail of wet you left in your wake.

“Hello you!” Ravi, the (overly) cheery, elderly shopkeeper shouts. I nod, sending a tight lipped smile in response to his greeting. “This rain, eh! It’s pouring down! Madness out there!” his accented voice says chattily, as you try to disappear behind a shelving unit stacked with tinned soups.

“Yeah, mad” you grit out, monotonously.

“Chatty as always, eh?” - “yep” good god, please stop talking to me! Not in the mood..

You grab two tins of soup, and three 29p noodle packets and head back to the counter to pay. Ravi scans your selection through and looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, awaiting something else. You sigh. “The norm, Ravi, if you will” you say. “Thought you might have quit! Bad vice to have, a young thing like you..”

You choose to ignore that comment, as he slides the packet of cigarettes over the counter. “£16.49”. You pull the slightly soggy twenty from your pocket and hand it over and he quickly counts your change and you’re on your way, the ding of the shop door sounding your departure.

The rain has somehow worsened, so you decide to run the mile and a half back to your flat, pissed off that you’d had to put any effort in, whatsoever. You’ve kept your fitness levels up since your military days. You huff a laugh at your own expense. Knew the morning jogs before work were worth while.. you think to yourself.

Work. Fuck. You’d not finished until 5am this morning, hence the wet jacket. Drunkards had crawled in after winning the football match, refusing to leave until gone 3am, and leaving a shit tonne of mess behind that needed cleaned up. You got decent tips though. Tips that your landlord would snatch off of you thanks to the fact that you were a month behind on rent payments. Easy come easy go, you thought to yourself, as you jog back to the flat.

You get back in record time but halt abruptly when you reach the door. The rain has, by this point, soaked completely through your jacket, but something else has caught your attention. The door handle (which lost its spring a while ago) is slanted down. Someone has visited while you’ve been gone.

“Fuck” you whisper to yourself, before quietly shoving the pack of cigs down your bra to try and keep them dry, and gently stacking the tins and packs of noodles into your post box, for safe keeping, while you investigate..

On second thoughts..

You grab one tin, and carry it as a weapon. Just in case, right? Old habits die hard…

You step in, silently, and notice the wet footprints leading to the kitchen. They weren’t even trying to be subtle, what the actual fuck?!

Slinking towards the kitchen, acting every bit the trained operative that you once were, you round the corner, ready to beat the intruder to ever lasting shit with your soup can, when your eyes meet something - or someone, for that matter - that draws the breathe from your lungs.

“Get out” you all but growl.

The intruder huffs a confident laugh.

“You’ve not changed much, apparently.. a ‘hello’ would be polite, Ray” the figure, with their back turned, lounging on your one remaining wooden chair, that you use to hang your washing on to dry, teases.

“I don’t go by Ray anymore. Now, get out” you spit, marching back to the door to grab your remaining tin of soup and packs of noodles, no longer threatened by the unknown, but instead, utterly pissed off at the fact they’re wasting your time.. You return to the kitchen, intruder still unmoved, and slam the tins down on the counter to try and convey the fact that they weren’t welcome..

“You’ve got about 10 seconds..” you warn.

“Until…?”

“Until I call your superior..”

“He knows I’m here..”

“I’ll call his superior, then” I threaten.

“You’ll call Kate? T’was her decision to send me..”

“Look, Lieutenant. I don’t give a single, steaming shit about whatever it is that you’ve gotten yourselves caught up in, this time. And if you think I want to be involved, you’re heavily mistaken. And it’s laughable that Kate chose you to try and retrieve me.. didn’t even think to send Gaz…? The only one of you wankers that I actually, borderline, tolerated?” You laugh bitterly.

“I really mean it, Ghost. Get out.” you practically spit his callsign, wanting him to understand that you really weren’t considering his, yet unspoken, offer.

“We’d have sent Gaz…” he pauses “but he’s broken. So I’ll have to do…”

Your stomach drops at that and Ghost almost almost sees the break in your facade.

*18 months earlier*

You’d gone through your entire military career with Gaz by your side. You’d class Gim has a friend, even though you were detached and fairly closed off. He was always determined to bring down your walls.

The pair of you were eventually split up when he was headhunted for the formidable taskforce, the 141. You didn’t see him for months, maybe even over a year, until your unit, which you labelled as ‘the Donkeys’, because they were all so shit, crossed paths with the 141 in Russia.

You, and Shepherd, you came to find out, who had been acting as the temporary commanding officer, visiting from America on a joint op, were the only survivors, not that Gaz knew.

The 141 didn’t stick around to check how us Donkeys got on. Just left us behind to do the grunt work, while they, along with Shepherd, moved on. Yeah. Still a bit bitter about that…

Mission accomplished, in their eyes. Necessary losses and all that.. the Donkeys were just collateral for them.. you included.

You returned to base, under your own steam, injured and forced to practically hitchhike back from Russia. When you limped back through the base security, flashing the dented dog tags, confirming that you were, in fact one of them, you were hailed a miracle.

Laswell called within the hour of your miraculous return and wanted to promote you to Lieutenant of your new unit, of strangers, that you’d yet to even meet. Hell, you were even ready for active duty, with your injuries. You decided that it was all for show. Or out of pity… you guessed that, seeing as the rest of the donkeys, and the existing Lieutenant, had been killed, they needed a replacement.

The day of the ceremony rolled around a couple of weeks after, the big names in the SAS, in their fancy suits covered in silverware and ribbons, turned up, to ramble on about what important work you’d all been doing and rewarding medals to hundreds of other soldiers. It was all bullshit.

When it was your turn to receive your medal of distinguished bravery, and to solidify your promotion to the rank of Lieutenant, you stepped up to the stage slowly, and glanced around at the huge crowd, dressed in their formal uniforms, and caught eyes with them. The 141. Gaz was smiling at you, sending a thumbs up your way, mouthing ‘proud of you!’ toward the stage.

You furrowed your brow, thoughts running rampant in your head. Proud of what, exactly? Proud that my entire unit were wiped from existence? Proud that, for some reason, I came back to base?

You froze on the stage. You don’t know for how long. You just remember gulping, trying to make your inner voice shut the fuck up.

Autopilot took over for a few seconds, and you step forward again, towards the important guy, holding the medals and sashes. “Y/n y/l/n. I present to you…” all you hear is your name, and then his muffled voice.

You take one final glance around the ceremony, and take the Lieutenant badge from the silver tray, earning a few gasps from shocked spectators.

“Fuck your promotion. I quit”

And you left the stage, head held high, and walk away. Away from the SAS. Away from the chess game of life. Away from the danger and greed of those in charge. You were done. Even the donkeys didn’t deserve their fate. They were someone’s child. Someone’s parent. Someone’s brother. And they were gone. Without a second glance. But they were oh so thankful for their service, right?

Bullshit.

Canon fodder. That’s all you were sent in for that day.

Pawns to be banished from the board for the next step of the game. Bigger picture. Greater good. All that grandiose bullshit.

You remembered rushing to your old room at the barracks and hastily packing whatever you had left. Hoping you’d be gone before someone detained you. Surely what you’d done was some sort of illegal, right?

What you didn’t expect was for Gaz and his Captain to come knocking on your door.

“Y/n? You in there..?”

“Piss off, Garrick” you snapped in reply.

“Soldier, open the door” the Captain’s, you’d assumed, rough voice commanded.

“Sorry Cap” you popped the P, immaturely, “no can do, don’t take orders anymore, remember? I quit..”

There was one heavy crash at the door, followed by some splintering sounds of wood, and then the Captain, followed by a sheepish looking Gaz, invited themselves into your room.

“Ray, is it? You don’t need to do this... You’re a valuable asset. You have so much to offer. I’ve read your file. You show a lot of promise. Garrick, here, backs that up. Says you and he came through the ranks together, said that you were the only one who could beat him in your year. Is that true?”

You kept your back to the men, continuing to blatantly ignore them and stuff your belongings into bags.

“You don’t have to rush, Ray. I have my other two men blocking the hallway”.

You remember furrowing your brow at that, not that he could see. Why was he protecting you? Why was he being… nice… about it?

“All due respect, Captain, but I’m out. Done. Finished. Yeah? Understood? I’d love to think up some more words to try and get through to you, but I need to get off base asap, before I’m detained. Hell, they’ll probably decide that what I just did is some sort of war crime. Now.. if you’ll excuse me..” you said, pushing past the men and out of the door.

“Ray!” Gaz shouted.

“Here, at least take this..” he presented his wallet.

“Help you find somewhere, yeah?”

You recall being caught off guard at his offer before nodding, sending a tight lipped smile his way.

“Thank you”

*now*

That was the last interaction you’d had with Kyle Garrick. Probably the last act of kindness thrust upon you since, hell, since you can remember...

And now his Lieutenant is in your shitty little flat, that Gaz’s money helped pay the deposit for, telling you that he is hurt.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by the scraping of the chair against the wooden floor, and the massive Lieutenant, skull covered face and all, standing from said chair, his head practically touching the ceiling light.

“I’ll pass on your regards to Gaz” he grumbles, heading to the door. “Enjoy your soup, Ray.”

You wait until his back is turned and he is out of earshot, before gulping and scratching your damp hair. I hope Gaz is ok.. I - I wonder why they’ve came to me..? What the hell has happened..

More thoughts run through your head, and the squeak of the springless door handle jolts you again. Christ, hasn’t he gone yet..? He’s taking his time..

“Good bye, Ray. Trackers in the wallet. If you want to disappear again” Ghost speaks quietly, as if to himself, before stepping out into the curtain of rain.

Your eyes flash back and forth, furrowed brow. That slimy little prick, they’ve known where I was this entire time.. probably kept an eye on me.. what the actual fuck..

You rush to the door, opening it and seeing the Lieutenants broad figure stalking away into the darkness, the splashing of his steps the only thing you can hear over the pounding rain hitting the street.

“How hurt is he...” I shout into the darkness.

You don’t see, but Ghost smirks under his balaclava, before turning to face you.

“He’s not taking visitors, Ray. Let’s leave it at that..”

Cunt. Fucking bastard. He knows what he’s doing. Dangling a piece of string in front of a cat..

You growl.

“Arghh! FINE. Fuckin’. Fuckin’ FINE. You win. You happy? You fucking win, Lieutenant. Give me 5 minutes..”

He smirks again, and this time you swear you can see the smugness shine through his eyes. It won’t take you long to pack anyway. Not like you’ve unpacked in the 18 months you’ve been here.

You rush back into the flat and grab the two loaded rucksacks, untouched since you left base for the, what you thought would be, final time. You grab the door handle, and rush back to grab your tins of soup and noodles. Oh - and the wine!

What? It’s a waste not to use them..

You join Ghost back on the street.

“Welcome back, Ray..” the Lieutenant says in a cocky voice.

“Don’t call me that” you snap, bitterly.

“Need to have a name, woman. You’re the newest member of taskforce 141…”

“Piss off…” is all you can muster for the time being.

You wrap your soaked jacket, tighter around your body, and pray that the cigarettes in your bra are still dry.

You’re gonna need them…

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 1: Dead Enough to be Alive

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy is headed to his first therapy appointment and his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tries to soothe him while he freaks out about it. (873 Words)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of vomit, passive suicidal thoughts, impending mental breakdown (no breakdown in this one), fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! Sideblog for social stuff: @m-z-shoroi. If you want to filter out the therapy posts, the tag is #cb therapy files.

Day 1

I almost threw up the day of therapy.

It's funny how al-anon meetings didn't fuck me up this bad. Being a no-face in a room full of faceless sufferers somehow made it easier to summon and examine the pain of Mikey dying, of cooking consuming every aspect of my being until all that was left was this chewed lump of mangled muscle and bone fighting for some form of continued existence. I could rip it from my chest, hold it in my hand, turn it in the light. Look at all the faces, the thin spots, the gouges, the dents. Half the people there weren’t listening to me at all, were lost in the turmoil of their own pain and suffering, of the loved ones that were too far away to reach or so unreachable that they were gone. I didn’t mind it.

Half the time, I just needed to hear what I had to say, anyway. Something about the words coming out of my mouth, as stuttered, incomplete, inadequate as they were; something about hearing my own voice say them to me, of my voice hitting my ears—that was the important part. I’ve been through hell and back, I understand clearer than anyone else that I’m the most powerful climber I know. I don’t need someone to grab my hand and pull me out of this mess; I just need someone to know that I’m here. I need someone to witness my existence, my pain, my misery. I just need someone to come looking for me if I go quiet for too long. Just a face over the edge of the cliff. They don’t need to say nothing. They just need to exist.

I’m just dead enough to be alive at all, and in a room full of ghosts, that’s an easier thing to reconcile than trying to explain that to a fucking therapist (who’ll probably put me on some sort of watch list after probing me with a thousand questions about whether or not I want to die, how I plan to do it, how much of my plan I’ve enacted). I shouldn’t be pissed. It’s their job. Fuck only knows how many times they’ve had their 3:00 not show up only to find out the next day that their 3:00 would never show up for anything again. But how else do I explain these brambles of mortality, this barbed wire anchored in my skin. I can’t escape death.

He owes me a brother.

He owes me some fucking answers.

 Darling's hand landed on my thigh. "Baby, you're going to crack your knees on the dashboard if you don't stop bouncing your leg like that."

And I'm fucking terrified of therapy.

"Why are you terrified, sweetheart?"

Shit, I said that aloud, didn't I? "I just... I don't know." I raked my hair back. "I don't know."

"It's a little too late to cancel the appointment now—"

"I know, I know, I know." I pressed the heels of my hands into my cheekbones. I know. I’m not saying I’m not going to go; I’m saying I’m terrified. Those are different things.

She squeezed my knee. "Breathe, pretty boy."

I heaved a breath.

"You're gonna be okay, baby.”

"What if I'm not?"

It took her a bit to answer. "Then we'll do what we can to make it okay."

She can’t make promises, but right about now I need some of those. Promise me I’ll be okay? Promise me it’s not as bad as it seems?

The car turned, then stopped. Her cold fingers curled around my wrist.

"Hey. Look at me, Bear?"

I dropped my hands, but I couldn't make myself look over. Don't know why; it probably would've calmed me down to see her pretty face, but my eyes stayed glued to the hood of the car parked in front of us, the icicles hanging in front of the grill. Teeth. Fuck, I was clenching my jaw again. Heat surged in my chest, crawled up into my neck, only this time, the panic didn’t come with it—my eyes just stung. I only felt a breakdown coming.

She interlocked her hand with mine, brought the back of it to her warm lips. Pressed a kiss to it, just to the side, behind my thumb. She returned it with a plum-pink lipstick print on it. Jagged, sharp, blurred edges, but distinctly hers.

"Do you think that'll help?" She whispered, carding through my curls, tucking them behind my ear.

I’m trying not to have a meltdown, baby girl, I’m useless.

She pulled my shirt collar down and planted another one on my sternum, just below where the neckline would be. It bloomed a wave of coolness in my chest. A comfortable cold. This wasn’t ice against my chest; ice is sharp, jagged, a frozen lightning bolt. The kiss was milder, softer. Diffuse.

She replaced my shirt, pecked my mouth. “How about that one?”

How about you give me another one after this fucking appointment, hm?

Tags: @jess248, @catharticconsolation, @persymons, @morgthemagpie, @glitch0o0, @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly

[taliesin-the-bored]

It was a musical, but...I am not beating the allegations.

I shall take this as an opportunity to ramble about Rómeó és Júlia, the subject of said allegations by @unstark, who may have created a monster (/j; thank you for doing so).

The first thing to know is that I haven't read Romeo and Juliet since middle school and liked it well enough then but wasn't really enthused because I liked the poetic elements but found the romance somewhat grating. However, I am a theater kid/opera nerd at heart, and looking at different versions of things and analyzing the connections, sometimes to an obsessive degree, is one of the things I live for (that's part of the lure of Arthuriana).

The second is that Rómeó és Júlia (ResJ) is fantastic, in large part because the cast is incredibly talented. I've seen all or a good portion of several different language versions of the musical, which originated in France as Roméo et Juliette (RetJ), and they all have good or decent but reasonably similar Juliets and mostly fine to mediocre Romeos. In addition to having a good Juliet, this Romeo, played by Dolhai Attila, was quite charming as an actor as well as a great singer so the rest have been mostly downhill. I am afraid, though, that like most of the people on ResJ/RetJ Tumblr, the characters I found most interesting were Mercutio and Tybalt, who both vary wildly from production to production. In ResJ, Mercutio (who fans call Zolicutio because he's played by Zoltán Bereczki) is a force of nature, and I did not properly appreciate that the first time I watched it. He sings, dances almost constantly, acts well, and raps in Magyar, and he never seems to stop or slack in energy until he dies. Tybalt, on the other hand, is a deeply tortured soul who's occasionally comedic in his melodrama (he does the Mr. Bean walk once) but has genuine pathos. I originally watched the first half without subtitles and did not realize the...ahem...concerning nature of his thoughts about Juliet, but that's in almost every version of the musical, and it is not as big a trigger warning as the obvious one, which is that Romeo and Juliet includes onstage suicide and murder, as well as references to sexual content. This is probably the first thing anyone learns about Romeo and Juliet, but I thought I should put that out there to be safe. Anyway, Szilveszter Szabó was vastly different than how I pictured Tybalt while reading the play, but he was excellent and brought a new perspective to the character. You love to see it. Also, ResJ Benvolio is a punk with the heart of a golden retriever, another far-from-the-play take which works in its context.

Now, the 2010 French version. I followed ResJ with the RetJ revival because John Eyzen's Mercutio is the second most popular Mercutio on Tumblr, after the inimitable Zolicutio, and I wanted to see what the hype was about. He is vastly, vastly different, both from how I imagined Mercutio and how Mercutio is in any other production. Eycutio alternates between stillness and over-the-top energy. He may or may not be bad mental illness rep. He may or may not be beholden to the madness-inducing entities of Chaos. Eyzen fully embraced the vibes of "La Follie" and the Queen Mab speech Mercutio has in Shakespeare to create a very unstable dude who revels in unpredictability and danger to a greater degree than Zolicutio and has probably won Best-Haired Veronese Man three years in a row. He has a love/hate relationship with Tybalt and flirts with him while fighting. (Zolicutio also flirts with Tybalt, but less in a I've-secretly-liked-you-since-we-were-twelve-but-also-hate-you-and-we-kissed-at-a-party-once-but-you-pretend-you-don't-remember-and-I'm-going-to-make-that-hard-for-you way than an I-bet-you're-into-me-and-also-that-you'll-hate-this-and-I-could-be-into-you-but-it's-not-clear-and-I-canonically-kissed-Romeo-but-didn't-seem-serious-about-it-and-I-rap-about-not-liking-romance-and-it-might-be-to-hide/drown/prevent-the-pain-or-I-might-be-aroallo-and-thriving way). Tim Ross's 2nd Tybalt looks and acts like the unlikely and maltreated test-tube child of George Michael and Cruella de Vil, and I'm going to leave it about that, because I have rambled too long without mentioning that Romeo's costume is exceptionally terrible in this one, that I really did not like Escalus, and that the Nurse was fantastic. All in all, what this one has to recommend it is the excellent Nurse, plus Tybalt and Mercutio's unevenly acted but ultimately interesting dynamic, which is the stuff of Fanlore pages.

I have not watched all of the 2001 French original, even though many people say Cécilia Cara is the best Juliet, because the other Juliets are also good and apparently a bald Mercutio is one thing I cannot take. (I could under certain conditions. If he were a young cancer patient, then that would add an urgency to his fervor for living life to the fullest, and a suspicion that he's going to die painfully soon whatever he does could influence his recklessness, but him being considerably older and more sophisticated than Romeo is weird). I might watch more of it, but it's low priority.

Apart from those, I've watched large parts of the Italian and Israeli ones, which I prefer to the French ones in acting but not in singing. The Italian one is a lot more dramatic than the Israeli one, which is maybe the least dramatic RetJ variant ever but pulls it off really well. The characters seem like normal people you would meet who try their best but get caught up in a tragedy bigger than they can understand. Of special note, as usual, is that ever-shifting scene, the duel between Mercutio and Tybalt, and this is the most original take on it I've seen. What sets it apart is that THEY DON'T EVEN DISLIKE EACH OTHER. You get the sense that they've had a lighthearted rivalry since they were kids but they're sort of friends and it's all a game to them. It's also the only version I've seen where those two actually have fencing swords, so the fight looks more realistic, emphasizing that they're playing with fire. When he realizes Mercutio is dying, Tybalt is visibly devastated and seems to lose the will to live. I don't usually cry at movies or shows, but that is the version which brought me the closest to crying.

I would like to watch the 2019 Toho version, since it comes highly recommended, but am not sure where to and might have to wait a while on that one. After I'm done with the Italian one, I intend to watch the Russian one, the German one, and the alternate cast recording of the Hungarian one. As for the English one...well, I've listened to a bit of it, and it was awful.

If you want to watch multiple versions at once or see which ones you might like, there is a great playlist on YouTube where someone edited together parts of the videos of different versions. If you want an incoherent-without-watching-the-full-thing but possibly still entertaining look into it, watch this compilation someone made, which is extremely funny if you've actually seen the full musical.

If you've read this entire semi-coherent ramble, you're a trooper. I hope it was vaguely interesting. Have a wonderful day!

it’s really easy to become obsessed with a shakespeare play you just have to watch one version of it and then read the play and then go mad trying to watch every possible version of it you can find and then study several centuries worth of performance history and controversy

[rhiannonsknife]

heyyy first of all, i just needed to say that your writing is soooo fucking good like i was genuinely impressed when you said that english isn't your first language because I can't imagine how this could get any better. Also, it isn’t only about the way you write but also the way you just get each character perfectly. That's just... woah, just woah. So yeah, I hope you keep on writing for a long time for the sake of everyone's happiness lol

And lastly, you remembered us about how you also write for the rest of the yellowjackets, not that I don't enjoy the whole "let's give love to all ella purnell's characters" thing going on here buuuut i remembered one scenario has been in my mind for a while and I'd love if you wrote about it.

Shauna, after losing so much to the wilderness, carries this relentless, overwhelming anger that keeps most of the other girls at a distance. Even those who aren't outright scared of her still know better than to get too close. She obviously needs love and comfort, but god help anyone who tries to say that to her. And then r decides to take a shot, carefully inching closer without setting her off. Slowly but surely, r makes progress. First, just being allowed in Shauna's space, then a hand on her shoulder, brushing her hand, maybe even touching her hair. When Shauna finally lets her guard down, r sees just how touch-starved she really is, how deeply she needs someone to just be there, to be her person.

Shauna and r start disappearing for hours, slipping off to somewhere, maybe the airplane, where r can pepper her face with kisses, making her feel safe. And Shauna just lets herself melt in those moments, holding r close.

my mind just goes ogdofgkditwukymg w her

── ౿🪵 NO ONE COULD SAVE ME BUT YOU

— summary: shauna shipman needs a hug. that’s it. that’s the summary.

— warnings: hurt/comfort. canon typical dark themes. implied cannibalism (duh). child loss. etc. so: angst. some fluff. did not beta-read this. + i had no clue how to start or end this fic.

— a/n: woah thank you so so much!! i genuinely appreciate that <3 i’m not planning on stopping any time soon! anyway, i hope you like how this turned out!!

out here, she’s lost everything. you all know it, though none of you dares to actually talk about it. it doesn’t come as much of a surprise that she’s beginning to lose herself too. it’s concerning all the same.

shauna still gets her chores done, so it is not like you don’t have her support in this poorly built system, this attempt to keep things under control when -really- all last restraints of control were lost the morning you’d found jackie’s body, buried in the snow, and with all that came after that. the things no one ever speaks about.

perhaps that is why none of the girls have approached her yet: as long as she does what she’s supposed to do, why would anyone try and cross her, or potentially upset her? after what she’s done to lottie, it’s no surprise. sometimes, in moments during which you find yourself staring at her hands for reasons beyond you, you can see the flash of a scar, standing out against the thin skin of her knuckles.

maybe they’re scared of her. or scared of what she’s become, out here. it doesn’t make a difference. maybe you should all be scared of what you’ve become.

either way, it’s not fair. you obviously know that she needs the same comfort some of the other girls have found in each other, whether shauna wants to admit it or not.

so you -with nothing better to do for the most part- make it your mission to be this comfort for her.

at first, shauna gives you short, cold responses when you try to make small talk, but you keep at it. there’s nowhere to go anyway, nowhere she could flee to get away from your slightly awkward attempts to just talk. it’s a first step.

gradually, you notice her replies get a little longer, her posture softens, just slightly, and she doesn’t seem so quick to brush you off. a small sign, but it means you’re beginning to earn her trust. you don’t talk, not always. sometimes, you’ll just linger nearby and watch her prepare the last remaining pieces of meat or sit in the same room as she scribbles in the journal she’s brought from home.

sitting with shauna in silence becomes its own form of closeness; she doesn’t say much, but she lets you be near her. you can’t remember, now that you think about it, when she was last hugged. when she last felt the touch of another person. your heart aches at this realization. could it have been jackie? it already feels like a whole lifetime ago, that she'd been among the group.

over time, she actually starts letting you sit close enough that your legs touch. you hope it’s her way of saying that maybe she doesn’t mind your presence as much as she lets on.

one day, after a particularly hard night, you take a chance and rest a hand on shauna’s shoulder. you’ve noticed, even from a distance, that she doesn’t sleep well. truthfully, no one out here does. but, with your makeshift mattress closest to the spot she’s preoccupied in the farthest corner of the room, you often notice the way she flinches in her sleep, or shoots up in the middle of the night, panting heavily.

when you notice it that night, you slip out of the more or less comfortable ‘warmth’ of your blankets and make your way over to her.

she tenses, but for a moment, she doesn’t pull away. her silence feels like a monumental moment, a sign that she’s slowly starting to let her walls down. you sit like this, hidden by the darkness of the cabin and with none of the others awake, for a long moment. neither of you moves, neither of you even dares to breathe, afraid it’ll pass by as fast as it has come. then, she shrugs away from your grip and mutters: “i’m fine”. she’s not, obviously. but you take it as a small victory. you’ve felt the way she relaxed under your hold, the way she didn’t immediately push you away.

as weeks pass, you notice shauna becoming less and less guarded in your presence. she’s still wary, still sharp, but you can sense the small shifts, a quiet murmur here, a shared look there, that suggest she’s warming up to having you close.

maybe that night is what’s to blame, or maybe she’s genuinely beginning to realize how much she craves the warmth of another person. your warmth.

it’s one of these days where she’s angrily scribbling down words into her journal when shauna reaches a first ‘breaking point’. she’s sitting beside you in silence, the weight of the wilderness and the day pressing down on both of you. the only noise is the angry scrape of her pencil against paper. in a rare moment of boldness, you reach out, brushing a strand of her hair back from her face.

you’re not sure why you do it. but shauna seems so far away from everything, so detached from the reality you live in, that you just want to offer her something grounding.

her first reaction is to freeze, her eyes widening with a flicker of surprise, and you nearly pull your hand away, wondering if you’ve overstepped. but instead, shauna lets out a breath and holds still, allowing you to tuck the strand behind her ear. as your fingers brush her cheek, you can feel her breath catch, her defenses lowering just a little. it’s a brief, fragile moment, but one that feels much bigger to you: an unspoken acknowledgment that maybe, just maybe, she’ll allow more of this.

that’s when things begin to change: shauna starts looking for you after difficult moments, lingering by your side in ways that tell you she needs someone, even if she won’t say it; too stubborn to ever admit it out loud. she lets you take her hand quietly, her thumb rubbing yours a wordless promise that, just for a while, she’ll let you be her safe place.

it becomes routine for you and shauna to disappear to some quiet spot when the cabin feels too heavy. no one has figured you out yet, although you’re sure that they can put two and two together by now: tai has caught your eye, the last time you sneaked off together and lottie has long claimed that the wilderness has its fucked up ways of communicating with her. whether any of it is true or not, something about the glances she shoots in your direction tells you that she knows. that she might even appreciate it, though that could just be because she won’t be the outlet for shauna’s anger anymore.

after a particularly tense exchange with the others, she brushes past you, muttering, “let’s go.” you follow her immediately, of course, and the two of you wind through the forest until you reach the plane’s wreckage. inside, it’s silent and dim, a place that’s somehow managed to become a safe haven. the last reminder of civilization, somewhere far far away from you.

shauna lets herself lean back against the metal frame, shoulders dropping in relief, her usual guarded expression softening as you sit close beside her.

she doesn’t say anything, but her hand finds yours, squeezing it tightly, as if she’s grounding herself in your presence. then, in a rare show of vulnerability, she leans her head on your shoulder, her eyes closing as she lets out a shaky sigh. you wrap an arm around her, pull her closer, and let her melt into you, feeling her tension slowly give way as she buries her face in the crook of your neck.

together, you stay like that for hours, just holding each other. shauna curls into your arms, letting herself fully relax in the quiet. you actually dare to cradle her head and press gentle kisses to her forehead, feeling her melt into your embrace, and trusting you in a way she hasn’t trusted anyone else in a long, long time.

“you’re…you’re way too soft for this place, you know that?” you hear her whispering. she doesn’t stop you, though.

when it’s time to return, shauna doesn’t say a word but gives you a look that says it all: gratitude, trust, and something almost like relief.

even when you’re not together, shauna’s glances toward you become longer, her eyes lingering with something that remains unspoken, as if she’s trying to understand this newfound feeling.

around the others, she is still hesitant to be openly affectionate. in the cabin, it is only late at night, when it’s just the two of you, that she lets herself fall into your arms. It’s the only time she allows herself to be unguarded, clinging to you silently as if afraid you’ll vanish too if she lets go.

that same night, you catch a quiet confession under her ragged breath. she’s facing the other way, letting you spoon her from behind. only this way, does she dare to open up about how everything seems to slip away from her. she’s scared but hides it behind anger and frustration. you’re the first person allowed to see her tears.

you can’t even begin to imagine what she’s going through. all the things she’s been robbed of: girlhood, like all of you. even if you’re ever rescued (which seems less likely with every day that passes) how are you supposed to move on? how are you supposed to live, like none of this ever happened? her best friend, who no one dares to talk about anymore, afraid it’ll bring back the things you’ve done. it’s like she was never here at all which, you think, must be even worse. motherhood, too, though she never even wanted it. no one seems to acknowledge that, out of everyone out here, she might just be the one to have lost everything to the wilderness.

in an attempt to comfort her, you trace mindless shapes against the back of her hand, slowly soothing her back to sleep. the letters of her name, a loopy S, gliding across her scarred knuckles with a tenderness so contrary to everything these hands have done. your own name, next. you hear a gentle chuckle coming from shauna. she knows what you’re doing, of course. you don’t stop.

the outline of wiskayok, as you remember from the map. she doesn’t seem to recognize this one, a little crease between her brows. “home” you tell her quietly and the crease vanishes.

it feels surreal that, somewhere out there, home is still a place. that wiskayok still exists to the people, to your families, your classmates, and everyone else back there. that it’s more than just a fading memory.

“you suck at drawing” she finally manages. it’s the first time you can hear the glimpse of amusement in her voice.

“what? you think you’re any better?” you whisper quietly, wanting it to last.

shauna shifts beside you, and takes your hand with a gentleness you didn’t think she possessed still.

now it’s your turn to lay back and feel. she starts with words. “yellowjackets” she spells out. a small smile flashes over your features as shauna studies your face attentively. then, though it’s harder to make out, she traces the word: “champions”. your heart feels heavy with everything that could’ve been.

shapes are next: a tiny heart, resembling the shape of jackie's necklace, then a simple circle.

"that's a soccer ball" she whispers expertly. for the first time, you laugh. it only lasts a short moment before you remember where you are, and that the others are trying to sleep just a couple of meters from you.

you fall asleep with her hand in your own, as both of your eyes grow too tired and you drift off together.

other nights, when she’s fast asleep and -for once- doesn’t seem haunted by nightmares, you find yourself watching over her. it’s the only time you get to see her the way she’d once been: when her features aren’t tense or pained, but relaxed. when she’s the girl you met at the very first soccer practice years ago, who hasn’t known any of the things that’ll happen to her in this lifetime. you stay up all night, only realizing how much time has passed when light starts spilling into the cabin and she stirs up.

you know shauna hates being pitied. so while you do feel for her, instead of asking if she’s okay, you just stay close, offering your warmth and presence. when shauna’s frustration bubbles over, she lets herself scream or cry in your arms, knowing you won’t turn her away. you hold her tightly all through the waves of emotions, murmuring quiet reassurances, and she clings to you, even as she struggles to accept that someone genuinely cares.

“everyone else… they don’t understand. they couldn’t. but you-“ she murmurs softly. “you’re the only one who sees me. the only one who wants to.”

shauna begins to show subtle signs of protectiveness over you, too: always looking out for you and offering the little comforts she can manage. even though her gestures are often quieter than yours, and less obvious, she's found her own way of showing she’s come to care for you, and that she’s willing to fight for you as much as you’re willing to be there for her out there!! <3

[sugdenlovesdingle]

So I have this need to Buck to be upset and trying to get in contact with Tommy to get clarity, only for him to get voicemail etc. And then Buck's angry and starts trying to force himself to move on (but not being able to).

And then for the 118 and 217 to COINCIDENTALLY attend the same incident, but the 217 are standoffish and curt instead of their usual chill selves.

And one of them throws out a 'be careful, if you end up in the hospital the 118 don't care', and it turns out Tommy's been hurt bad and is in a medically induced coma, and everyone assumed that Buck didn't give a shit enough to visit him.

As soon as they realise he didn't know, they change their tune and are like 'why are you still here, go see him'.

(I just don't want Tommy to entirely be the bad guy I guess 😅😅😅😅)

Who said Tommy was the bad guy??? Tell me! I will fight them!

ANYWAYS

Yes to all of this! I read your message earlier and I was like "Hmm medically induced coma is a bit much maybe" but nope. This is the 10 year old landing a plane on the freeway show - crash that helicopter and put that man in a coma!

(helicopter struck by lightning anyone?)

And I want the 217 crew to race buck to the hospital - Athena will make sure the entire LAPD will look the other way. And then a dramatic hospital bedside love confession after one of the doctors tells him there's been no improvement since he was first admitted and they're not sure if he'll ever wake up.

and then buck kind of passes out in the chair next to tommy's bed after barely *moving* for at least three days... and THAT'S when Tommy opens his eyes. Maybe just when Chim or Eddie comes to check on Buck.

And Tommy's all "let him sleep" but chim/eddie/whoever is like "uhm no, i don't have a death wish, thanks." and they wake Buck up and they have a dramatic reunion before they both remember they're supposed to be broken up. But Tommy is too weak to have long conversations, so Buck just tells him to get some rest because they have all the time in the world to talk and work things out, and then promises he'll be there when he wakes up.

And they live happily ever after somewhere tim minear can't hurt them!

[sapphicflower-ao3]

what are ur personal favorite fics? i can be a bit picky and have a hard time finding fics but i love ur writing and i feel like we might have similar tastes based on that :3

i'm sorry it took me like a week to get to this!! i wanted to compile my faves and write notes for each of them... and i went overboard LOL. but thanks so much omg, i'm flattered that you would trust my taste based on my writing!

these are all bkdk obviously :)

i. 'In Case of Fire' - passengerside

post-canon // complete // 11K // E

an absolute MASTERPIECE!!! this author has become a recent favourite of mine, i love the way they incorporate little details into their work and make the mundane so beautiful.

highly recommend all of their other works, especially 'Pacemaker'! so freaking beautiful and fun and the lead up to the confession was a genuine holding-my-breath moment

ii. 'Sun Hands' - yesthisisnarumi

snowboarding AU // complete // 5K // T

i've re-read this one so many times it's SOOOOO good! so fun and so classically bkdk it's insane. everybody say thank you OP for giving us the rival olympic champions to lovers story we needed

iii. 'all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing' - maxisnotokay

UA compliant // complete // 11K // T

i dont usually read a lot of whump but this was brilliant, im a sucker for this specific trope and for LOVE CONFESSIONS YEASS!!! obvi it has a happy ending bc i wouldnt have it any other way. a good length too :)

iv. 'Spinnin' On Our Feet' - sage_and_cinnamon

High School AU // ongoing // 47K // M

UNDERRATED AS FUCK and my favourite ongoing fic right now. i usually dont read jock x nerd AUs but this fic is so brilliantly funny and charming and heartwarming and it blew all my expectations out of the water and then some. i've been following it for ages and it's been on hiatus for a good while, but it updated recently and when i tell you it was the best day of my freaking life...

v. 'In Perfect Rhythm' - chalk

Band AU // complete // 50K // E

yes how surprising, a band AU fic in my faves list. anyway shut up, chalk is literally godlike in their writing and this fic was SO FUN and scratched all the itches. nothing gets me going more than awkwardly endearing izuku n rockstar katsuki

vi. 'Last Days of War' - antisora

Pacific Rim AU // complete // 44K // M

GENUINELY ONE OF HUMANITY'S BEST PIECES OF LITERATURE???? fuck. i never have the proper words for this fic, but it is SO gripping and the worldbuilding is so tight and their relationship development is so good and the CLIMAX OF THIS HAS BEEN MORE EPIC THAN HALF THE BLOCKBUSTERS I'VE SEEN. i beg you to read this even if you have never watched Pacific Rim. or maybe go watch the movie and get EDUCATED and then read this! i'm begging you, dear reader!!

vii. 'Ingenium' - crandberrycrush

Astronauts AU // complete // 85K // E

guys i love sci-fi sorry lol. this one is another brilliant fic. OP put so much blood, sweat and tears into research and it shows, it is just very intelligent and the plot itself is HEART RACING and GUTTING and THRILLING. there's a lot of POVs and it really fleshes it out, tho ofc bkdk is the main thing. happy ending obvi! it is the space/astronaut drama that i love and adore, just BKDKified now!

viii. 'The Magic in a Mirror' - totallyrottentomatoes

Magic/Circus AU // complete // 80K // E

oh how surprising, a totallyrottentomaoes fic in my faves list. anyone who knows me knows that i rec this fic all the time. it's one of my all time favourites, if not my favourite of all time lol, and it's really because of the writing and the imagery and the characterisation and the relationships b/w all the characters. it's all just so well done and MAGICAL. no joke, if i could print and bind a fic into a book, it would be this one. no notes. perfection. caters to my tastes so specifically. i could go on about this fic forever but i'll shut up for now

also highly recommend 'The Distance Between Suns' by this author - it's a high fantasy epic with TIGHT AS FUCK worldbuilding, brilliantly written, the romance is BEAUTIFULLY WRITTEN, the payoffs are amazing, etc... this deserves to be published and revered

ix. 'Battle of the Bands' - roadtripwithlucifer

Band AU // complete // 168K // E

look i know i always rec this fic, i just can't help that it's like my favourite thing ever. roadtripwithlucifer and totallyrottentomatoes my BELOVEDS. the humour in this fic is so fucking yummy and brilliant, the writing is gorgeous in typical roadtrip fashion, the stakes are gripping, the climax is thrilling, the romance n yearning is INTENSE, the sex is hot as hell, the ending is so satisfying, just..... the whole package.

and while you're here, read other roadtripwithlucifer works like 'Nothing Else Fills' if you feel like destroying your heart :) an angsty and beautifully written time-travel-to-save-my-kacchan-gone-wrong war AU fic. i love OP's works but her more recent fics (eg. after battle of the bands) have had some of her best writing. i adore it when you can feel how an author has poured their soul into their work, you can always feel it in a roadtripwithlucifer work and it's just the cherry on top

x. 'Scar Tissue' - Loriqod

canon-compliant // complete // 18K // E

loriqod is another author with a characterisation that i fuck with so hard... this one was so full of that Yearning and Tension that i so vibe with. bonus points to the plots focus on bkdk's scars like yes pls more of that <3

anyway i might make a part 2 some other time, these are just the ones i grabbed from my public bookmarks. i have a lot of private ones and some of them i forgot to make public oops

hope u find smth u enjoy!

[homopopsie]

[Sif has been looking at you weird for a while...] "Isa." [CRAB!!!] "Uhh, Yeah Sif?" [He's looking straight at you, his eyes piercing you to your bones. He looks kinda creepy like this... Reminds you of all the times you found him reading late at night with his flashlight eye.] "You mind if we talk for a second? Alone." "UMM. YEAH SURE SIF." [CRAB CRAB CRAB CRAB CRABBBBBB] "Are you alright, Isa? I've noticed you doing some... things. You're acting more- There's really no other way to say it, Isa you've been acting dumb. Acting like you're just 'really lucky' whenever you find a key that we need. I know you, Isa. I know you aren't stupid. You're really smart actually, and I know something is up. So what is it? Can I help?" [CRAB CRAB CRAB WHY IS HE ASKING THIS NOW????] "What do you mean? I really have just been getting lucky?! I don't know how I would know where the keys are, I've never been here?!?" [You feel awful lying to them.] "Right. So you finding the switch to the Death Corridor trap instantly isn't something strange? You always trust me to handle traps, and yet you immediately put your hand out in front of me and stopped me before I could look around, and then hit the hidden switch. I know I only have one eye, but that was really well hidden." "But how would I know where it was beforehand? I just had a feeling."

"I don't know Isa, but I know that people with 'a feeling' still jump at massive falling rocks! And I know that people with 'a feeling' don't just nonchalantly strut into The King's chambers and talk before Odile gets a chance to talk to the man who froze her entire home. I know people with 'a feeling' don't grit their teeth hard enough to shatter. Don't act like nobody noticed that either, maybe the others didn't but I did." [!!!] "But, that'd be impossible, right? It's impossible to have been here before-" "Is it? Because you sure seemed to have a few theories! You knew to ask me about Wish Craft, to ask me to read those books! You knew that I could wish properly, you didn't have an inch of doubt on your face when you said how I taught you. You knew that a wish could have given The King the ability to harness Time Craft. Don't think I believed you when you said you didn't wish for anything. I know you're indecisive, but you aren't going to just ignore something I told you either. I know you wouldn't just listen to me tell you how to wish and not bother with it. You aren't callous. [If only he knew... If only he knew how callous you were!]

"I..." "Isa, I know you're not stupid. And you know I'm not stupid either. If I see something, the only thing I can do is observe for more. And all signs right now point to you. Did something happen? Is that... Is that why you're looping in time? Did-"

"Oh Siffrin... Why? Why did you have to figure it out now? Why couldn't you have figured it out before? Why couldn't you have never figured it out?" "Isa, I-" "Can't you see? It's too late now. Nobody can help, now. It's already too late. Because I was too much of a coward to try and ask for help. Because I was too much of a coward to tell anyone about the loops! Because I was too much of a coward to say anything! Because I was too much of a coward to tell you how I feel! Especially you, Sif. I'm too much of a coward to tell you how I feel about you. And I'll never get that chance. Because it's already too late. "..." [He's just staring at you with a scared expression. Or at least its probably scared. Whatever. It's too late anyway. You coward.]

"...So what is it? Can I help?" "Nope! Was that all?"

[Sif seems... sad, at your response.]

"Alright. I'll miss you Isa. Come visit me sometime on your travels, okay? It'd be a shame if I couldn't look at the stars another time with you."

Roleswap Sus event combos Everybody gets a turn being the suspect and the suspectee! Nobody enjoys the experience, though.

[whumpninja]

Anyone remember my moments of peeking round the door into pet whump and yelling a prompt and then scampering away like a horrible gremlin? And how I kept saying that was the extent of my interactions with that genre? Yeah. Me too. I lied. I really wanted to push myself out there with Whumptober, so I promised myself that I would try it. I didn’t go very far in- I used historical instead of full-on BBU, and I toned it way down for this just so my brain didn’t entirely freak out- but my toesies are officially wet!

@painonthebrain here it is!!

Prompts used: Whumptober, nowhere else to go

Featuring: pet whump (have I EVER used that tag before?!), historical whump, alternate history, mentions of abuse, pipe smoking

Whumptober Day 17: A Quiet Evening at No. 14 Fettle Street

The best time of day is that peaceful, gray evening-time when the sun has gone down but it is not quite dark. The time when families are beginning their suppers, when ladies are brushing their hair a careful one hundred times, when the door opens and whoever has been out that day comes home.

It was just that time of night, on a relaxed sort of Saturday, at the red brick flat on Fettle Street whose outer wall bore a plaque that read No. 14. Inside, the fire crackled pleasantly in the hearth, and the parlor of had an air of quiet evening calm to it. The master of the house had draped his lanky frame over a plush red armchair, an empty teacup on the table by his side and his face obscured by the day's newspaper. Mrs. Merry the housekeeper bustled about, fluffing pillows and rearranging knickknacks and poking at the coals. Presently she broke the companionable silence. "Your slippers are all warm now, whenever you're thinking of retiring. Will that be all for the night, Mr. Thorn?"

"Oh, yes, I think that'll do for me, Mrs. Merry," replied the aristocrat from behind his newspaper.

The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and turned towards the kitchen door.

"Oh, Mrs. Merry," said Mr. Thorn. "Just one more thing."

"Of course, sir."

Mr. Thorn set his paper down. One of his eyebrows was arched toward his hairline. "You might tell me why there's an unfamiliar young man asleep on my settee."

Mrs. Merry bit her lip. "So you...noticed."

"He's across from me, Mrs. Merry. If I'd missed him I would be in need of an emergency appointment with the optometrist. Now, do you want to explain who he is and why he's here?"

Mrs. Merry came to the fireplace again, stirring up the embers even though they didn't really need to be stirred. "You've seen him before, sir, though maybe you didn't notice. That traveling tailor fella you had a meeting with a few months ago?"

"Didn't much care for his boasting," remarked Mr. Thorn. "He did have a boy with him, didn't he?"

"His pet, sir."

Mr. Thorn scoffed. "Whoever came up with that particular system of dealing with criminals ought to be institutionalized. But anyway, what's the boy doing here?"

Mrs. Merry had a fine temper when she got it stirred up, and it was good and hot now. "I knew that tailor was a bad 'un," she huffed, mostly to the fireplace. "That poor lad showed up on the kitchen doorstep this afternoon, thrashed within an inch of his life and too frightened to look me in the eyes. Near as I could get out, that tailor beat seven bells out of him and then left him behind on the road when he couldn't keep up." Mrs. Merry snorted. "I'd like a chance to introduce the brute to the handle of my broom, see how he likes it-"

"Mrs. Merry, of course that's all very unfortunate, but what on earth is he doing in my house?" Mr. Thorn broke in.

"Didn't have nowhere else to go, I s'pose." Mrs. Merry stopped her bustling to brush a black curl from the boy's forehead- he really wasn't a boy, exactly, he seemed to be about twenty. It was only that he looked so small and pale that she kept calling him one. "I was kind to him when you had that fitting with the tailor. Must have remembered." She shook her head. "I certainly didn't expect it, but how could I have just left him in the street? Brought him inside and did what I could for his back, and got him a good meal- that's what's put him to sleep so heavy. He looked as if he hadn’t had a bite since last Sunday.”

Mr. Thorn leaned over to light his pipe. His face was complicated, and for several moments he did not speak. “You might have asked me," he said at length. "I don't like strangers in my home."

"I didn't think you would object."

"I certainly don't object to helping someone in need. But, Mrs. Merry, what do you propose to do with him now? Or if the tailor turns back up looking for him? Have you thought about that?"

"That's the sort of thing you work out later, when somebody's in trouble," Mrs. Merry said firmly.

Mr. Thorn took a long drag of his pipe, blowing out a ring of smoke and watching it dissipate. "I'll be the first to admit I don't approve of this whole pet business. I didn't think much of their other proposition- what was it again, sending criminals off to Australia?- but this whole matter of altering the brains of people so that they're hardly able to think for themselves leaves a bad taste in my mouth." He blew another smoke ring. "Still, we can hardly expect to tear it down in one day. If that tailor comes, I suppose we'll have to give the boy back."

"I'd hide him first," Mrs. Merry replied fiercely. "I'd not be responsible for sending him back to that monster, even if I did lose my place for it! Sir," she added, after a moment.

Mr. Thorn sighed, tapping out his pipe. "I couldn't get on without you, Mrs. Merry, never fear. The boy may stay, for a few days, at least. Though I would prefer if you made him up a bed that is not my settee." He took up his newspaper again. "And we may not have to wait long for this whole debate to be over. It's being challenged in Parliament soon." He snorted. "Though of course they've got an excuse all ready. They're saying now that even if they did shut it all down, the way they've altered the brains of those involved, they'd never be able to rejoin "polite society." And they used that term, too."

Mrs. Merry bent down to spread a blanket over the boy, who was still quite dead to the world. "If you don't mind me saying it, sir," she remarked quietly, "you seem to have come out all right."

Mr. Thorn looked up sharply, but the housekeeper had already gone. He glanced over at the settee, and something in his face softened.

Before he went up to bed for the night, Mr. Thorn slipped to the settee and tucked the blanket a little more securely under the young man’s shoulder.

[andiftheycare]

Satosugu Christmas AU because it's the season?? where

Gojo & his juniors get stuck in an airport in the middle of Japan two days before Christmas due to a storm. Not a biggie, except that Nobara moans because she has a date she doesn't want to cancel; Megumi's a grump because he doesn't want to spend more time with Gojo; and Yuuji would really like to, you know, spend it with his long-lost-brother that year.

So Gojo gets them access to the airport lounge -- because he's the best line manager on the planet -- and really, what are the chances to hear Geto's voice the second they step in it? Incredibly low.

But of course, Geto's also stuck there. He's going south to the girls and he’s on the phone with them when he sees Gojo, whom he hasn't seen in ten years, whom he doesn't want to see.

There's a brief second of pained acknowledgment where Nobara elbows Fushiguro; Fushiguro looks away, because like hell he's spilling the tea; and Yuuji eyes the free buffet with longing eyes, and is eating dessert even before the tense moment is over.

("You haven't changed, Satoru" "You have. Are those wrinkles?" but honestly, Gojo thinks, Geto got more handsome with age, and hates how that makes him tingle as if he's still a lovestruck teenager)

They don't talk, except that they're the only people there for a while, until Nanami enters the room after Gojo ALSO gives him access to the lounge (best. boss. ever.) -- Nanami, equally, doesn't want to be there. He doesn't have Christmas plans but spending it with Gojo? He'd rather handle his resignation. Which he's going to handle in soon anyway.

So they sit there uncomfortably for a while while Yuuji chats with everyone, completely unable to read the room, until more people come in -- and there's Haibara, who Gojo hasn't seen since the 2007 accident, and Utahime, who Gojo sees plenty because of her job. And when Yuki steps in, too, smirking at the whole room, knowing more of the collective stories there than anyone else, Nanami knows for a fact that they're in hell.

For context, they all work in the same industry (except for Geto, who left ten years prior) and the city they're in is a popular leg in domestic flights.

Haibara and Nobara, after few glasses, get on like a house on fire and start to place bets on whether Uthahime or Nanami will kill Gojo before the storm is over; on whether Gojo and Geto will fuck in the bathroom (they won't, in the end it's Yuuji and Megumi who do fuck in the bathroom); and on whether they can piece together why Yuki Tsukumo is there.

[mytearsbuckochet]

What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

[robinprinceofchaos]

ight ima correct all this:

(don't read if ur asmi cause I want you to be clueless)

1. Started 1963, rebooted 2005 (✅)

Showrunner was Russel T Davies.

2. 15 doctors ✅

(technically canonically Jodie Whitaker doctor IS lesbian but it's all personal preference)

3. There's someone called the master.✅

Intense sexual tension.✅

4.Emo - to be debated. Idk what music the master listens to.

5. They all have intense trauma✅ 15th doctor girlbossed it✅ (15th doctor still has trauma even after the girl bossing tho)

6. Donna played by Catherine Tate ✅ Catherine Tate knows less about doctor who than asmi ✅

7. The tenth doctor wipes Donna's memory because she became Doctor Donna and could have died because her feeble human body can't cope. And then the fourteenth doctor meets Donna AGAIN after even more trauma and bigenerates and then goes to dinner with the Nobles (Donna's family) and is like 'guess this is my life now'.

8. Correct. ✅

9.all the doctors are in love with rose and you can't change my mind. She is a thread weaving through their-

*ahem anyway*

10. Human Au is tentoo✅

NuWho or New Who means doctor who after the 2005 reboot.

11. There is something called the TARDIS ✅

It is bigger on the inside ✅

( I cannot confirm whether asmi had a dream about the TARDIS or not.)

12. ...the French revolution? Uhm. Ok sure ig. I can't be bothered to go back and check what time its set. But I don't think it's in France. So.

13. Sure.

14. Correct.✅

15. Correct again ( refer to my amazing speech that I PERFORMED TODAY;?!!? for more.) ✅

16. ...this is a generalized statement but I'll give the mark.✅

17...that is a matter of personal preference. Uh.

18. Meeps pronouns are meep.✅ (Canon neopronoun character anyone?) Meep is not friend✅ (Meep is friend shaped cause y'know if Meep wasn't then they wouldn't have a plot for an episode so.)

19. If you're talking about Cassandra, she's only her butt cheeks in one of the 2 episodes she's in.

*strolls into tumblr and falls on my face pretending I haven't been missing for like a month I was out getting the milk hello maggots*

Doctor Who But I've Never Watched It 2.0

For those of you feeling deja vu YES I HAVE MADE POSTS ON DOCTOR WHO BEFORE OKAY but back then I was a young uneducated lad, just a fresh blossom unfucked by tumblr. Now I am surrounded by you lot and by god do y'all love Doctor Who. And I am Educated. My DW virginity is deflowered. All that.

SO HERE WE GO, EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS SHOW I'VE NEVER WATCHED:

The show started in 1963, and then was rebooted in 2005 and the showrunner was... Robert de Neiro? Idk all I know is he gives Pedro Pascal vibes. Like his name. His name is Robert.

There have been 15 Doctors so far. One is a lesbian and it is not Jodie Whittaker, it is actually the 12th doctor.

There's someone called the Master. I don't know what that means, or if it's some kind of BDSM thing, but he has intense sexual tension with the Doctor.

He's also emo and has bleached hair and is kinda babygirl. And is called Missy.

The Doctors all have intense trauma and the 15th Doctor kind of girlbossed it by leaving David Tennant intact when they binary-fissioned.

Donna is a person played by Catherine... Tate? Not Hepburn. And she knows less about Doctor Who than I do. And Donna is in a QPR with the David Doctors (there are two of them).

David Doctor loves Donna very much. And then he kills her. But doesn't kill her. And then they have dinner together with her husband and kid.

The original show had shitty effects. The new show does too, and everyone is happy about this.

Rose is someone the David Doctor is in love with and then she ends up with a human AU of him and he leaves and the fans are very divided and passionate about this.

The human AU is called Tentoo because y'all hate using W's. What the fuck is Tentoo. What is Nuwho. Why isn't it New and Two. Help me.

THERE IS SOMETHING CALLED THE TARDIS, IT IS BIGGER ON THE INSIDE, I HAVE HAD WEIRD DREAMS WHERE IT WAS A FUCKING AUTO-RICKSHAW WITH RIBBONS FOR SEATBELTS, AND IT IS BLUE AND NOT YELLOW BUT IT WAS YELLOW IN MY DREAM. Because of a Drarry fanfic that I misread.

The 15th doctor dances homoerotically with someone during the French Revolution.

The 9th doctor kinda vibes with like his head jiggling idk I've only seen one gif of him.

The 13th doctor keeps forgetting she's in a woman's body.

It is all very gay.

David Tennant's arms are too long.

The sexiest person is a head.

The Meep's pronouns are Meep. Meep is not friend. IF NOT FRIEND THEN WHY FRIEND SHAPED??????

A buttcheek skin talks or something yeah this is all I got.

have at it y'all @robinprinceofchaos @multidimensional-trashcan @wispedvellichor @queermarzipan thanks for the second hand brainrot

*sneaks away under the cover of night* i was never here

[secretsantafrans]

Frans Secret Santa Pitch-In Hits 2024

If you are interesting in helping me out with pitch-hits (a request for a person in case their Secret Santa gift is never delivered), read this post!

Things you can expect if you apply:

1. I offer not just a Frans request, but request of any theme to those who haven’t gotten their present in time, so it may not even be Undertale-related. (Though experience shows people still usually ask for something frans-related anyway)

2. I won’t rush anyone. If there will be any time-pressing requests I’ll do them myself.

3. If when the time comes you are no longer able to help even if you applied to help you won’t have any obligations to do so.

4. You’ll get maximum of one request. Depending on how many you helpful sweethearts out there you may not get any at all (which is a good thing!)

5. No kind of rewards for this one xD just a very sincere ‘Thank you’ and lots more of Christmas spirit of giving especially this year because I am very tired and help seems like a blessing

If you want to help out, you can apply here.

Last year I kind of got shy to actually go and ask people who applied to this form and stressed over those request myself but I'll try to be better about it this year I swear ✨

[sentimental-apathy]

I hate to make a post asking for help again but if anyone could spare anything, please consider donating to my PayPal, cash app, or venmo so I can buy a few groceries. I'd really appreciate it.

Right now I can only work part time due to issues with chronic pain. I'm not bringing in a whole Lotta money n I'm struggling physically just working the hours I'm working.

I am still waiting to see a rheumatologist about my arthritis, chronic nerve pain and neuropathy. I have arthritis and fibromyalgia brought on by a past lyme disease infection. Last time I was seeing a rheumatologist she told me I probably have an unknown autoimmune disorder caused by lyme disease and that I would experience "flare ups" throughout my life and would just need to find meds that helped with the symptoms. Lately my nerve pain and arthritis has been BAD. It's unbearable some days. By the end of my shifts I'm pretty much wobbling/limping home. It's embarrassing tbh.

I also have severe issues with inflammation to the point where I get such bad flare ups that I end up not sleeping for days and days until I go into psychosis. I've been diagnosed with bipolar 1, schizoaffective, depression and anxiety and the medication I've been on for months, while it has helped me sleep, it's causing a lot of unwanted side effects like constant fatigue, more nerve pain, depression and heightened anxiety. After my psychiatrist appointment today I'll be switching to a new medication. Fingers crossed 🤞 it helps me better than the last. But I'm nervous about starting all over again on a new med.

Basically I'm verging on disabled but just not enough to actually be able to get disability. I've already been denied twice. It's super hard to get. Plus, I want to work. I need to try. I gotta try n keep moving or it'll just make me sicker.

Anyway, thanks to anyone who read all this. Please reblog this and help a struggling gal out. Thank you. ❤️

[tethrras]

a soft place to land

vittoria de riva x lucanis dellamorte. 2.7k. fluff, hurt/comfort, flirting. click here to read on ao3.

-

Vittoria is no stranger to loneliness.

It keeps her bed cold and her nights quiet. Sometimes she’s grateful for it and other times the longing for something more, the same longing she’s felt since childhood, threatens to strangle her. But she’s a Crow, and Crows can’t afford connections like that, so she doesn’t complain and instead spends long nights sharpening her blades in silence. Sharpening blades or, when she feels longing’s hands tightening around her neck, sitting in the window of her apartment in the canal district and watching the civilians of the city go about their lives.

“Her” apartment isn’t her apartment at all. It’s an abandoned apartment overlooking the market that no one has lived in for what seems like a decade, if not longer. She found it after one of her first contracts, and it’s the only place in Treviso that she can escape to without feeling the need to look over her shoulder for Viago. On nights she can’t sleep and doesn’t want to think or train, she scales the surface of the tower and settles in the window, letting the heartbeat of Treviso lull her into something that might resemble sleep. Visiting the apartment is what she misses most about home, and after seeing what happened to Minrathous, after hearing about what's happening in the South, she wants to visit it again. Who knows if - who knows when - it’ll be the last time?

She intends to head for the Eluvian with little fanfare - the others don’t need to know about her trip - but when she reaches the bottom of the staircase in the library, she finds Lucanis sitting on a chair with a cup of coffee in his hand and a book open in his lap. He looks up at her as her footsteps slow to a stop.

“De Riva.”

“Dellamorte.”

Vittoria shifts her weight from one foot to the other as a slight smile creases Lucanis’s lips.

“You’re going out.” He appraises her armor with a raised brow. She should’ve cleaned it earlier like she had meant to…

“I am.” Vittoria rests her hand on the hilt of her sword. “But I won’t be gone for long.”

“Where to?”

“Home,” she answers, then, “Treviso. Ever since we got back from Minrathous…”

He glances down at his lap then. “I know.”

She can tell he feels as she does - guilt for what happened to Minrathous, to the Shadow Dragons, to Neve, but gratefulness that the same - or worse - didn’t happen to Treviso. It’s a poor consolation, but consolation at all is priceless in times like this. 

Vittoria clears her throat. “Would you…”

“Would I what?”

“Um. Nothing,” she insists, shaking her head. Of course he wouldn’t want to come with her - he’s clearly in the middle of something. She’s not sure she wants company, either. “Anyway, I won’t be long. If anyone asks for me -”

“Were you going to ask me if I’d like to come with you?”

“... No.”

“Then what were you going to ask?”

She knows very well that Lucanis didn’t know who she was before she rescued him from the Ossuary, despite the two decades that she has spent with the Crows. It continues to surprise her that he understands her better than Viago ever has after only a month or two. No wonder he’s such a good assassin - he’s very good at reading his mark. She clears her throat. “Alright,” she confesses. “I was.”

“I thought so.” He stands up, takes a long sip from his teacup, and then places it down on the saucer. “Let me get my things. I will meet you at the Eluvian.”

He doesn’t leave her waiting long, and they travel home through the Crossroads in companionable silence. Vittoria can’t help but glance over at him from time to time. While he didn’t notice her in the past, she certainly noticed him - she even thought she had been in love with him once, though she’s sure now that she didn’t know what love meant. Or means. But he and Illario had a life that all Crow recruits wanted for themselves, and Vittoria had been one of them. The acclaim. The attention from the Talons. The inherent talent. When she was younger, she thought that having the attention of someone like Lucanis would’ve made her life easier - easier than the attention from Viago, anyway - and she strove for years to get that attention. She grew out of it eventually, and then, of course, he died, and whatever leftover feelings she might have had died with him. But now, the fact that not only is he alive, but that she was the one to save him… Sometimes it doesn’t feel real, and she always catches herself looking at him to make sure he’s really here.

“We’re not going to the Diamond,” she says when the two of them reach the Treviso Eluvian. “If you wanted to check in with Teia and Viago...”

“Hm. Then where are we going?”

“I have a place in the city that I go to. I consider it… well… a home. Of sorts. I wanted to make sure it was still standing, after…”

Lucanis nods. “I understand. But maybe we can check in with Teia and Viago while we’re here…” At Vittoria’s wince, he gives her a smile. “Or not.”

“Thank you.” There is a part of her that loves Viago, however complicated and repressed that part is, but the last thing she needs right now is a lecture.

“Of course. No one understands the desire to avoid Viago as well as I do, believe me.”

She steps through the Eluvian with Lucanis on her heels. 

Most of the Crows are asleep for the night, so the two of them meet no resistance at the Casino, and from there she leads him through the familiar streets in silence. It’s a short walk, though, and soon enough she’s standing at the base of the apartment building and refreshing herself on her usual footholds. She hasn’t been here since before she saved Varric all those months ago, and she would hate to fall to her death from the building that she’s scaled more than any other - in front of Lucanis, no less. To her relief, the tower doesn’t seem to have suffered in the face of the dragon attack. She glances back at her companion, who is staring up at the surface of the building the same way she had been moments ago.

“It’s not as tall as it looks,” she reassures him.

He meets her gaze. “Good thing I have wings.”

Vittoria has been climbing her whole life. As a child, she would spend hours scaling trees until she reached the top and could settle down in the branches with a book or wooden toy that she had stolen from one of her siblings. By the time she was six, she could scale the tallest tree on her family’s farm in one breath. When she first arrived in Antiva, it was the only thing that made her suited to the life of a Crow - everything else, the fighting and the thick skin and the iron stomach, came later. So climbing is second nature to her, and in no time, she’s heaving herself through the window and rolling onto the floor of her apartment. Lucanis follows. They stand up from the ground, dust themselves off, and meet each other’s eyes.

“This is it.” She says it more awkwardly than she’d meant to, and winces at herself. She thought she’d gotten over her infatuation with him - she doesn’t dwell on those old feelings when they’re working together side-by-side, killing Antaam and Venatori and Sentinels - but now that it’s the two of them, alone in an abandoned apartment with no gods or dragons for miles around, that soft spot of her heart feels rubbed raw. She turns away from him. “I’ve been coming here for years,” she says again. “I’m glad to see it’s still standing.”

Lucanis looks around curiously, and Vittoria does, too, to familiarize herself with the apartment again. There’s a bookshelf with a few books in it - books that she bought from the market herself, but can’t remember the contents of now - and a collection of knives sitting on a stool next to a well-worn whetstone. Above the stool is a series of scratches on the wall, each scratch representing one of her successful contracts. There must be more than a hundred scratches, but she’s not sure if he’d consider that a high or low number, so she resists the urge to call attention to it. 

On one side of the room is the window from which she can see the market, and on the wall opposite is the window from which she can see the whole of Treviso spilling over the hills on the horizon, its silver spires sparkling in the moonlight. Lucanis lingers here, standing still for a long moment. When he speaks, it shatters the silence.

“I have never seen Treviso like this.”

“I haven’t seen it like this for a long time.”

She brushes past him and sits on the edge of the window. It’s what she would do if she were alone, after all, and that’s what she had been coming here to do - to be alone, to calm herself and soothe her nerves of steel. Even though she knows she won’t be able to do those things now that he’s here with her, she’s still going to pretend that she can. And it’s easy, because for a long, long moment, neither of them move. It's only when she turns her head to look at him that he sits down on the windowsill across from her, stretching his legs out until his feet are nearly in her lap.

She used to dream of this. Of sitting across from Lucanis, fighting alongside him, of him knowing her name and… knowing even more than that. When she was little, she always imagined what she would tell someone if they asked her about her childhood in Ferelden, and for some reason, sitting across from him, she feels the words leaving her mouth before she can think about it. “When I arrived in Antiva, all I could think about was how different it was from Ferelden. I hated it at first.” But even the word hate doesn’t capture her feelings, because she spent most nights in the year or two after she arrived sobbing in her bed until the other recruits realized that hitting her hard enough could convince her to be quiet. “But I can’t remember what Ferelden looks like anymore. I can’t remember my family. All I know is Antiva, Treviso, Salle. The Crows. Viago. If Ghilan’nain’s dragon had…”

Vittoria glances over at Lucanis. He seems focused on something in the distance, but she notices him shift in his seat and straighten up when she looks for long enough.

“Did you recognize me?” She doesn’t know why she asks him this, but she does. “In the Ossuary?”

Lucanis shakes his head. “I didn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t think you did.”

“But I wish that I had.” He turns to face her. “I don’t know how I never noticed you before, truthfully.”

“And why is that?”

He smiles again, and she resists the urge to glance back out the window. “You are an impressive woman, Vittoria.” 

“Well.” She clears her throat. She doesn’t know what “impressive” means to him, if it means what she thinks it means or what it should mean or if it means something else, but her face flushes nevertheless. “I’ve worked hard to be.”

At that, his smile sours. “You know… You take very good care of us. Of the team. But I hope you don’t think that we can’t be there for you the way that you - ”

“I didn’t invite you here to give me a motivational speech.”

“Ah. You didn’t invite me at all, remember? I had to tease it out of you.”

Her face flushes even more at the word “tease”. 

“I just mean that… If there is anything I can do for you, any difficulties you might be facing that I don’t know about… please tell me.” He sighs. “I know that I can’t do much, all things considered, but I can try to ease some of the weight off your shoulders if you let me. I have wings, you know. I can take it.”

“Please.” Vittoria waves her hand at him to dismiss the thought. “You keep me fed - that’s enough.”

“Mm.” He crosses his arms over his chest and nods. “And you do eat a lot more than the others, that’s true…”

“Hey!” She kicks his foot. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing! It was merely an observation.”

“Watch it, Dellamorte.” She gestures to the open window. “You’d hit the ground before Spite realized what was happening.”

“Please don’t say his name right now. I don’t want him to ruin the moment.”

There it is - another word that might mean something to him but also might mean nothing. She didn’t realize that whatever’s happening between them right now could be considered a moment… but at the same time, she has started to notice that he’s been giving her more attention since she saved him and the Crows from the dragon. He sits beside her at dinner, keeps close to her side in fights and in their travels through the Crossroads… and what had he been doing tonight, sitting in the library of the Lighthouse instead of the kitchen? 

She tells herself that it doesn’t mean anything, though. It can’t mean anything. Vittoria could never live at Lucanis’s side. He’s in line to become First Talon, and his family has been a part of the Crows for hundreds and hundreds of years. No matter how much training she does, no matter what she does, Vittoria won’t ever feel like she belongs to the Crows or like the Crows belong to her. She doesn’t think she’ll ever rid herself of the fear that one wrong move will be the end of it - of her life here, or of her life at all. And she feels the same about Lucanis. If she pushes her luck too far, who can she trust to watch her back the way she trusts him? She needs to focus on finding allies right now. Not a lover.

If he was interested in her at all. Which he isn’t. He can’t be.

“We don’t have to talk, you know,” she tells him, more for her sake than his. If her face flushes any more tonight, she might burst into flames. “We can just sit here and… look out at our city.” 

“Our city.” Lucanis turns away from her and rests his head against the window frame, settling in and looking more at ease than she’s ever seen him. And while watching him in motion is enough to drive her to madness, seeing him at ease might be even worse. Watching his chest rise and fall with long, measured breaths. Watching his eyelashes flutter like he’s trying to keep himself awake. He is a beautiful thing, Lucanis. She’s sure being loved by him would be a beautiful thing, too.

“Before we stop talking, then, let me say one last thing: thank you for saving our city.” His voice is softer than a whisper, so soft that she has to lean in to hear what comes next. “And even though I didn’t know you before, I am glad that I know you now.”

As allies. As friends. As teammates. While she knows that’s all he means, it’s still something. Vittoria smiles at him. “Me too.”

True to his word, Lucanis doesn’t speak again for the rest of the night. Neither does Vittoria. (Neither does Spite.) They watch the sun rise over the mountains surrounding their home and then decide that it’s time to return to the Lighthouse to rest before they see the First Warden. But if things go well, if she somehow figures out a way to stop the gods, then she might bring him back here and tell him all the things that no one has ever thought to ask her about. He might even want to know.