#i’ll treasure that memory for a long time now

[wholesomepostarchive]

1/27/2023

I've been thinking about how, when you're little, you're surrounded by adults who adore you, who you're never going to remember.

I don't mean like your parents and stuff, but like — I work in after school care, and I'm forever meeting five and six year olds who seem like the most incredible people on earth. Kids who painstakingly explain the rules of handball, kids who ask me to help them colour in, kids who feel really deeply wounded by a classmate's behaviour, just an endless stream of them.

Or like my friends' kids who I've babysat once or twice. A kid who played with me in a creek, a kid whose mannerisms are etched in my mind. Cousins' babies who I held for a while. Even just stranger's babies in shops who stare at me the way babies do.

One of my best friends has an online friend who's recently had a baby, and he tells me - someone who doesn't know the friend's name even - about that baby having their first bath. Because that's the kind of love and excitement that little children inspire.

None of these children will remember me.

I literally don't have a greater point here, it's just blowing my mind to think about how much love is directed towards people who can't remember any of us. They can maybe, I guess, if everything goes well, remember the feeling of safety that ought to go with that love.

[deus-ex-mona]

my five surviving braincells when something remotely good happens:

[hoshiina]

pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)

summary: he still dreams of you and wishes for another chance to make you his, some lines are inspired by hakujitsu by king gnu

warnings: reader is rather lively/bubbly,

notes: TYSM FOR 100 !!!, a/n (yapping) in tags

wc: 1800

Hoshina Soushirou still dreamt of you. Every once in a while, you’d come to visit him in his sleep and it would make him believe that a miracle had occurred, that he had another chance. Every time, he would tell himself that he would never let this go, that he would give it his absolute all this time.

Yet, every time, he would wake up from this dream.

And every time, he would feel his heart drop at the realization of that. He was disappointed, and he knew, but there was no reason to be. It wasn't like anything had happened between the two of you. He liked to believe there was something going on— something more than mere acquaintances or friends, but he knew there wasn't. It must've been all in his head because the last time he had heard of you was before you were moved to the first division. He hadn't heard a single word from you since then, nor has he said anything— but that was just the way it was. There was nothing to do at this point anyway.

He wasn’t with you for all that long, and it was probably just the fact that both of you joined at the same time that naturally started the first conversation. He was far more weary of everything and far less cheerful at the time, and you didn't even work with him most of the time being a researcher, but you didn’t mind that one bit. If you had something you wanted to say, you would tell him and he’d just have to listen. At first, he had no idea why you kept talking to him when he paid hardly any mind, but after a while, he found comfort in your conversations. He had started to look forward to talking to you.

It had only been a few months before the defense force noticed how spectacular your work was and quickly called you over to the first division. There wasn’t a tearful farewell, or even a casual goodbye for that matter. You disappeared along with a cheerful ‘I’ll see you around!’ while you were moving your boxes out and he would hear those words ring in his head for the years to come— in your voice. Yet, at the time, all he could do was force a smile and nod.

It had been so many years since you had moved, he didn’t even know what you looked like now. Probably still stunning. Definitely still stunning. Although he had the chance to see the 1st division officers a lot, you were a researcher who worked behind the scenes. Naturally, there was no reason he'd bump into you, and he didn’t. He never did.

He loved to remember you, but he hated to think about you. He loved to remember the way you would laugh at his silly jokes, the way you would ramble on about the work you had to do daily but would still put in your all, and the way you would always visit him with some cold tea when he trained late into the night if you were still up as well. Actually, he hated thinking about the tea— it would make him start thinking about you. He would think about how you were now, if you were still pilled with work, and if you remembered him.

If he bumped into you, would you remember his name? Maybe if he cracked a lame joke. Maybe if he gave you a few days to think about it. Maybe if he started listing the things you talked about— his most treasured memories. Maybe then you’d say his name again.

See? This is why he hated thinking about you— he had things to be doing.

It wasn't like this happened everyday and it wasn't that big of a deal. It just ruined his day a little when it did happen. So if he had to say, he hated dreaming of you.

As you took over his thoughts again, the emergency alarm started to buzz, as if to tell him to snap out of it. He was thankful, he couldn't still be daydreaming like this.

A smaller-sized identified grade kaiju had appeared near the first division quarters, so the third division was doing more backup work this time. Hoshina was taking care of the smaller kaiju in the vicinity that had spawned from the presence of the honju. It felt nice for him to be doing work, it took his mind off his ramblings and cleared his head. He wasn't too worried about the honju, however. Although it was an identified grade, it wasn't anything they hadn't dealt with before and as much as he liked to tease Narumi about how he was always better at smaller kaiju neutralization, he knew Narumi was extraordinary at what he did.

At least that would have been true for any other kaiju of that size and strength, but Narumi seemed to be struggling far more than expected with this one. From his earpiece, he heard Okonogi notify him that the 1st division was asking to send Narumi some help if possible, and he immediately rushed over.

Yet, by the time he got there, Narumi had already neutralized the kaiju in question, although horribly beat up.

“I don't need your help, Hoshina!” Narumi still managed to yell while on the floor, absolutely bleeding out.

“Oh, shut up, do you want to die?” Hoshina asked. It didn't take an expert to see that Narumi’s condition was concerning.

Narumi soon fell quiet, probably unconscious, while Hoshina found his earpiece lying on the floor near him. He picked it up, hoping it'd connect to the first division just in case they had lost connection to his vitals.

“He's unconscious right now, but he seems to still be breathing. However, he's bleeding dangerously from multiple spots. I think a few ribs might also be broken,” Hoshina said. “There aren't any kaiju nearby at the moment and I'll take care of them if any do come— bring the stretcher right away.”

He waited a moment, but there was no response from the earpiece.

“Hello?” he asked, hoping for a response. After another moment, he heard it.

“Hoshina…?”

It was you. He would still recognize your voice from anywhere. Oh, how he missed you. His eyes were wide and he had nothing to say all of a sudden. You remembered him. You recognized his voice.

You remembered his name.

“Thank you for your report, we lost connection to some of his vitals halfway through. The medics should be there in a few minutes,” you said.

“I'll stand by,” Hoshina said and kept Narumi's earpiece in his ear. He had nothing he wanted to tell you, not one thing in mind, but he wanted to be on the line with you— even in silence. The medics came in a few minutes like you had told him and took care of Narumi right away.

“They got here, he should be fine now,” Hoshina said, as if you didn't already know. He just wanted something to say to you.

“I missed working with you,” you said and he couldn't believe his ears. Perhaps he'd wake up from this dream again. Perhaps he'd open his eyes and be utterly disappointed again. But he knew there wasn't even a hint of romantic affection in your words, just the respect you've always had for the work he did, and how you missed doing this job with him. And he did too.

“Yeah, I did too,” he said. “I still do.”

You chuckled a little and he could still picture you smiling. “That made my entire year,” you said. “Probably not the time for this, but we should catch up sometime. If you don't mind, of course.”

Made your year. What did you mean by that? And If he didn't mind? Oh, you didn't know how many times he's dreamed of this day.

“I'd love to,” he said. While he was a little embarrassed to imagine the rest of the first-division team hearing this conversation, that was not going to stop him. He'd be an absolute fool to let this chance go. He has promised himself to give it his all this time.

“Are you seeing anyone?” he asked quietly.

“Sorry?” you asked, hoping he'd repeat that. You heard it, but you were afraid you were so delusional you were starting to hear things. Your heartbeat quickened and you waited patiently, hoping it wasn't all in your head.

“Do you have a lover?” he asked a little more clearly, but obviously still nervous and flustered. You had never seen him like this, ever.

“No,” you replied, a little too quickly. “I do not.”

Relief washed over him and he felt his heartbeat quicken. Oh, thank goodness you didn't have access to his vitals. He was going to make you fall for him somehow.

“…do you?” you asked quietly, after a moment.

“Me?” he asked. “No, I don't.”

“I see,” you said, but he could hear the soft delight in your voice. He would never miss it.

Perhaps he'd just go for it. There was nothing for him to lose at this point, and he had made his feelings plenty obvious already. If you didn't want him, he'd just try again. He's tried countless times in his dreams already, what's a few more?

“But I'd love to be yours,” he said and heard you gasp quietly. That one he couldn't read. Was that a little too bold? Far too sudden?

“Did I hear that right?” he faintly heard you scream, asking your fellow first division coworkers. That made him laugh, you hadn't changed one bit. “I’ve loved you forever, Hoshina.”

There was absolutely no way. He was going to wake up soon, he just knew it. Well, might as well indulge in the dream for now, then.

“I've definitely loved you for longer,” he said.

“Hoshina, I'm going to kill you if this is a dream,” you said, and that caught him off guard. Yet, even that sounded nice to him, and that made him smile. He'd get to see you, at least.

But it wasn't a dream. The way your voice fluttered his heart could never be felt through a dream. The way your laugh filled his soul could not possibly make him feel so warm through a mere dream.

“I cannot wait to see you,” you said softly, your voice so full of love it made him melt.

He couldn't either, but that wasn't exactly what he had on mind this entire time.

“And I cannot wait to kiss you.”

[xiao-come-home]

I love reading your random Boothill thoughts 🥲. Especially the one where he is a dad. Do you think he is a girl dad or boy dad?

Ahhh thank you! Ik you sent it before his story was leaked but man was this spot on 🫠 here’s some dad!boothill hc with reader because im starving

Warning: mentions of pregnant reader and all that jazz, SPOILERS FOR BOOTHILLS STORY.

I FELT IN MY BONES he was a girl dad before it was revealed to be canon! Boothill gives so much girl dad vibes it’s immaculate. He’d love to pick out pink clothes for his daughter, pink shoes, ponies and other plushies! Or rather, he loved.

That’s until you happened to get pregnant shortly before he left for his surgery. He came back a few weeks later with his new body, but no one was home. A small gift bag sat on the table, waiting for him; Boothill opened the bag and grabbed a piece of long paper, a black and white picture. A small bean present in the middle; the back of the picture held a tiny caption, that read: “I’m only a few weeks old. I can’t wait to meet you, daddy.”

Even though the wound was still fresh and open, since not long has passed since the incident on his planet - Boothill began to feel bitter determination to give his baby the best life they could ever have; this time, a life that wouldn’t see its end so fast.

Boothill is very interested in your pregnancy! He’s sometimes unable to go to every appointment (whether be it the ipc who are hunting him, or the opposite), but he knows he can’t mess it up. Not again. He’s always holding your hand when you have an ultrasound scan, glaring at the doctor and making sure they don’t hurt you or the baby, and giving your tummy so. many. kisses. He assists you in the bath, just talking to you can keeping you company, since water, cords and a pregnant human aren’t a good combo. He wants you to tell him everything.

That’s when you finally tell Boothill that you’ll have a baby girl - his mechanic heart shatters and swells with love at the same time; it’s such a strange feeling, that makes the cowboy feel a little guilty. Both of you fall silent, until Boothill makes a move and closes the distance between you, smiling sadly at you and softly caressing your stomach with his hand, “I’ll treasure her forever.”

There are days when Boothill truly feels like the hole in his heart cannot be healed after your first daughter, but he knows she’d love to have a little sister. Yet he’s here, now a cyborg and the only memory of her is just one, lonely picture. He makes sure to never let her existence fade away by telling your round tummy that he’ll love them both until the end.

On a happier note, Boothill is just. Such a good dad, but also a chaotic one sometimes, especially if your daughter inherits her dad’s personality. They’re doing everything together - if she wants to have her hair braided, he does so, and lets her braid his (even if his hair gets so tangled at first, to the point he has to cut it 😭), good god! He loves her so much and always hugs her so tightly when she runs up to him after she notices her dad is back home.

Boothill just loves hearing her little giggles and always makes her laugh! Sometimes he tickles her so much she throws her plushies at him.

Boothill wants all her milestones to be forever preserved. He has tons of pictures of her, a few photo albums - it’s never enough. He’s so proud when she says her first word, when she takes her first steps by herself, her first drawing for him (even if she drew it on the fridge with a black marker), her first birthday. He wants to give her everything she could ever have.

Boothill might've cried the night when his little baby drew him a family portrait - with you, herself, her daddy and older sister. He's injected in her every possible good memory about her, and she never fails to appreciate her older sister even if she isn't there, knowing her dad still loves her just as much.

When Boothill’s little princess cancels the weekly tea party he’s always attended, it’s HIM who feels sad about and pouty about it.

Boothill buys his daughter tons of different hats! They’re always carefully picked and he makes sure she likes them waiting for her approval, but most of the time she wants to just wear his. She doesn’t care she’s drowning in it, it’s the best because it’s Boothill’s hat.

Even though Boothill never mentioned her anything about playing guitar, one day she started to play him a tiny bit of song she learned at school - although clumsily and due to stress, Boothill listened to her and threw her in the air in happiness when she finished - he knew it was your job and couldn’t be more thankful. Once again, he made yet another guitar in his life - this time to finally listen to his little one’s music and teach her many, many other songs they’d later play and sing together.

Oh god, when Boothill’s daughter announced her “boyfriend” she met at daycare, he just stared at her with wide eyes. This is also an instance where he cried that night and you had to calm him down. Later on he insisted to be the one to take her to daycare, and gently threatened the said toddler, “look, stinker. Don’t ya dare GET NEAR ma lil’ angel, or else.” This was his last visit without your supervision. And also, your daughter just laughed at him and left… so yeah, plan failed successfully, I guess?

Mandatory naps with daddy after daycare. Well, Boothill only pretends to sleep when she looks at him - but once she falls asleep on his chest, he looks at her with so much love, gently resting on his chest and stroking her hair, that was just like his and adoring her tiny face, that he thought was the most perfect mix of you and him. Boothill shushes you with his finger quietly, when you ungraciously enter your home. A content smile appears on his lips when you give him and your daughter an apologetic kiss on their foreheads, still hearing her snoozing tenderly.

[lxvsiick]

TREASURE HUNT | KIM LEEHAN X READER

PAIRING: idol! birthday boy! kim leehan x fem! reader 

SUMMARY: October 20th, Leehan woke up to a note next to him and his girlfriend, Y/n, nowhere to be seen – opening the note, he finds out that Y/n had planned a treasure hunt for him! Follow the birthday boy, Leehan on his treasure hunt journey with the surprising appearance of his group members in fish costumes? 

GENRE: fluff, imagine, established relationship

WORDCOUNT: 3.8k

A/N: A late birthday post for Leehan! I will be making a Riwoo one after this!

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

Leehan slowly blinked awake, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains in their shared apartment. The bed felt unusually cold next to him, and when he reached out, his hand landed on an empty spot instead of the familiar warmth of Y/n. He frowned slightly, still groggy from sleep, but then noticed something that made him smile—a neatly folded note sitting on her pillow.

Propping himself up on one elbow, he reached for the note, his curiosity piqued. It was in Y/n's handwriting, a familiar sight that made his heart skip.

Happy Birthday, Donghyun!

I hope you didn’t think I forgot. I planned a little treasure hunt for you today—just because I know you love surprises. Your first clue is where we first met. Can you guess where? ;)

I’ll see you at the end. Have fun!

-- Y/n

A grin spread across his face as he read the note, her playful tone jumping off the page. She knew him well—knew how much he loved a good challenge, and even more so, how much he loved anything that involved her.

He let out a soft laugh, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. His thoughts wandered to where they had first met, and he shook his head, already knowing the answer. Of course she’d make him go there first.

Setting the note down gently, he pushed himself off the bed, excitement bubbling in his chest. As he moved around the room, getting ready for the day, he couldn’t help but imagine what other surprises she might have in store for him. His birthday was already off to the perfect start—Y/n always knew how to make everything feel special.

After a quick shower and throwing on his usual casual but stylish outfit, he grabbed his keys and phone, the smile never leaving his face. He had a treasure to hunt, and he was eager to see where this birthday adventure would take him.

With a final glance at the note on the bed, he left their apartment, his heart light and full of anticipation. Time to head back to where it all began.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

Leehan stepped out of the apartment building, the cool morning air hitting his face as he made his way down the familiar street. His thoughts drifted back to the note and the first clue: the park where they’d met. A soft chuckle escaped him at the memory.

It had been an ordinary day—or at least it had started that way. After a long dance practice, he’d gone for a walk to clear his mind, still buzzing with leftover energy. But what he hadn’t expected was to see a girl—Y/n—walking... a fish?

He laughed out loud just thinking about it. It had been such an odd, hilarious sight, this girl casually strolling through the park with a fishbowl in hand, talking to the fish like it was the most normal thing in the world. He’d almost thought he was hallucinating from exhaustion.

He could still remember the confused look on his face, and how he couldn’t help but approach her, curiosity getting the better of him. When he asked her if she was, in fact, walking her pet fish, she’d looked up with those bright, sparkling eyes and simply nodded, like it was the most obvious thing.

“His name’s Bubbles,” she’d said. “He likes the fresh air.”

It had been so absurd and so perfectly her—the moment had stuck with him ever since. That was the day their friendship began, and he often teased her about it, calling her the “girl who walked a fish.” He smiled to himself now, remembering how that quirky encounter had been the start of something much more.

Lost in the memory, he didn’t even realize he’d reached the park until he glanced up and saw it—the same path he’d taken that day. But today, something was different. Standing by a large oak tree, dressed up as a bright, balloon molly fish, was none other than Jaehyun.

Leehan blinked, then stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening in disbelief. “What the—?”

Jaehyun stood there in the ridiculous fish costume, looking equally amused and awkward, holding a large clue envelope in his gloved hand. As Leehan approached, his friend spread his arms wide, the fish costume looking even more absurd in motion.

"Happy birthday, Leehannie!" Jaehyun grinned from ear to ear, his muffled voice coming from inside the fish head. "Surprised?"

“Surprised doesn’t even cover it,” Leehan said, laughing as he shook his head. “You look funny.”

“Hey, Y/n came up with this, not me,” his friend replied, still chuckling. “Anyway, she wanted me to hand this over to you.” He held out the envelope, still grinning.

With a smirk, Leehan took the envelope from his fish-clad friend and tore it open. Inside was another note in Y/n's handwriting:

Clue #2: Go to the place where you asked me out!

His smirk softened into a fond smile as he read the clue. He already knew exactly where that was. This treasure hunt was turning into the perfect birthday.

“Good luck, birthday boy,” Jaehyun said with a wink, watching as Leehan turned to head toward the next stop on his adventure.

“Thanks,” Leehan called back, still grinning. “And by the way... that costume suits you.”

Jaehyun laughed and waved him off as Leehan made his way to the next location, his heart full of warmth and excitement for what was to come.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

Leehan walked down the street, a small smile tugging at his lips as he followed the next clue. His destination: the local fish store, the place where he had first asked Y/n out. It was funny how everything between them had started with fish—of all things—and how it somehow kept coming back to that.

As he made his way there, his mind drifted to the memory of that day. It had been such a simple moment, yet one that would change everything.

They’d been friends for a while by then, ever since their bizarre first meeting at the park. One random afternoon, they decided to hit up the fish store, both excited to pick out new decorations for their tanks—another shared hobby that seemed almost too on-the-nose for how they met. Y/n had been going on and on about clownfish at the time, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she explained something about their bright colors and personalities. He could still picture it so clearly—the way her voice had this melodic, enthusiastic rhythm to it whenever she talked about something she loved.

And then, mid-sentence, he’d just... blurted it out. “Hey, do you want to go out sometime?”

Her mouth had frozen, halfway through a sentence about coral, her eyes widening in surprise. And then she’d smiled—her warm, radiant smile that always made his heart skip a beat. “You’re asking me out... in a fish store?”

He had laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, but that didn’t stop the blush creeping up his cheeks. “Yeah. I guess I am.”

To his relief, she had said yes, and the fish store became one of those special, unspoken landmarks in their relationship. It was where everything started to change between them.

As he got closer to the fish store, still lost in thought, Leehan was brought back to reality by a sudden thud in front of him. A little boy, no more than five or six, had fallen onto the sidewalk, his hands scraped and knees banged up.

“Hey, you alright, buddy?” Leehan asked, instantly crouching down to help the kid to his feet. The little boy looked up at him with wide eyes, trying to hold back tears.

“I-I’m okay,” the boy sniffled, wiping his face.

“You’ve got this,” Leehan reassured him, giving him a gentle pat on the back. “Just walk it off, you’ll be good in no time.”

With a quick thank you, the boy hurried off toward his mother, and Leehan smiled to himself, feeling pretty good about helping out.

What he didn’t know was that, just a few steps behind him, Jaehyun was tailing him in the ridiculous balloon molly costume, texting updates to Y/n.

He just helped a kid who fell down. Didn't even notice me. On to the next stop, Jaehyun sent, feeling both proud of his stealth and embarrassed by his fishy outfit.

Finally arriving at the fish store, Leehan pushed open the door, a familiar bell chiming as he stepped inside. His eyes scanned the room, but they immediately froze on the sight standing in the middle of the store.

There, decked out in an oversized, shiny zebrafish costume, was Sungho.

For a second, Leehan could only blink in disbelief. Sungho looked both mortified and ridiculous, standing in the middle of the fish store in an absurdly shiny fish suit. Unable to help himself, Leehan burst into laughter, leaning forward as he shook his head in disbelief.

“Hyung,” he gasped between chuckles, “I can't believe she got you to do this.”

Sungho crossed his arms, his cheeks red even beneath the costume. “Happy birthday, Leehan. I feel super embarrassed, but your girlfriend can be really persuasive, apparently.”

“She really can,” Leehan said, still laughing, but offering a half-apologetic smile as he accepted the next clue from Sungho.

As he unfolded the paper, Sungho sighed dramatically, rubbing his eyes through the costume head. “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Nope,” Leehan grinned as he read the third clue:

Clue #3: Go to the place where we had our first kiss! <3

He chuckled softly, folding the note and tucking it into his pocket. This treasure hunt was turning into one of the best days he could remember.

With a quick goodbye and another round of laughter at Sungho's fishy predicament, Leehan headed out of the store and off to the next spot—his heart full, knowing each clue was bringing him closer to Y/n.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

Leehan was on his way to the cinema, the spot where he and Y/n had shared their first kiss. It was a memory that always brought a smile to his face—nostalgic and sweet, wrapped up in that first burst of excitement that came when everything between them shifted.

Unbeknownst to him, Jaehyun, still dressed as a balloon molly fish, and Sungho, in the ridiculously shiny zebrafish outfit, were tailing him from a distance, whispering back and forth and trying to remain as inconspicuous as two grown men dressed as fish could be.

"I can't believe how distracted he gets," Jaehyun muttered, ducking behind a lamppost as Leehan stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at a random street performer juggling knives. "We're supposed to be following him, and he's over there watching... this."

"Yeah," Sungho sighed, rubbing the oversized zebrafish head. "At this rate, we'll be out here all day."

Leehan, completely unaware of the spectacle behind him, stayed transfixed for another minute, watching the juggler nearly drop a knife and then recover just in time. He smiled to himself before finally turning back to his path and continuing toward the cinema. His two group members exchanged a look of relief before following again, each step feeling more ridiculous in their costumes.

Along the way, it wasn’t just street performers that caught his attention. At one point, he stopped to admire a cute dog being walked by an elderly woman, then got briefly sidetracked by a vending machine with some unusual snacks he hadn’t seen before. His friends groaned behind him, shaking their heads.

"Why is he like this?" Jaehyun whispered, adjusting the balloon molly suit as another passerby gave them a strange look. "He's like a toddler on a field trip."

After what felt like an eternity of random distractions, Leehan finally made his way to the cinema. He walked up to the entrance, scanning the area with a curious smile, knowing exactly what to expect. And there, standing in front of the cinema in the most ridiculous outfit yet—a boxfish costume—was Riwoo.

Eyes widening, Leehan burst out laughing for the third time that day. “No way, hyung, you’re actually in a boxfish suit?”

Riwoo gave him a sheepish smile, lifting his hand in a mock salute. “Happy birthday, Donghyun. Also, just so you know, people keep thinking I’m a mascot for some animated movie. I’ve been asked for, like, ten pictures already.”

"That's amazing," Leehan said, still chuckling as he walked up to him. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you’re living this down for a while.”

Riwoo rolled his eyes but handed over the next clue, clearly relieved to get on with it. “Here you go, Leehan. I gotta say, though, this costume is something else. But, hey, it’s for you.”

Leehan grinned, unfolding the next clue. As he read it, his smile softened, warmth spreading through him as he saw the next destination:

Clue #4: Go to our favorite café.

Looking up from the note, he gave Riwoo a pat on the back—or rather, the side of his boxfish suit. “You look great. Thanks for doing this, seriously.”

“You can thank Y/n for all of this,” Riwoo said, giving him a knowing look. “She’s got us all running around in fish costumes for you.”

Laughing, Leehan stuffed the clue in his pocket, feeling excitement bubbling up in his chest. With a nod of thanks, he headed off to the café, the next stop on this unforgettable treasure hunt.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

As Leehan made his way toward the café, a light breeze swept through the street, carrying the familiar smell of freshly baked bread from nearby shops. He grinned, already looking forward to seeing what Woonhak or Taesan would be dressed as, knowing the next clue awaited him.

But, as was becoming tradition, distractions came along the way.

First, it was a street artist painting a vibrant mural on the side of a building. He stopped mid-step, eyes lingering on the colors splashed across the wall. "That's... actually really cool," he muttered to himself, taking in the intricate details.

Behind him, Jaehyun, still wearing his balloon molly costume, let out a long sigh. "We’ve been following him for, like, half an hour, and this is the third thing he’s stopped for."

"At this rate, we’re never getting to the café," groaned Sungho, adjusting his uncomfortable zebrafish suit. "How does he get distracted by everything? It’s like he’s trying to take the scenic route on purpose."

Riwoo, who had just joined them in his boxfish outfit, chuckled softly. "This is Leehan, guys. You should know by now that he can’t resist interesting stuff."

With one last glance at the mural, Leehan continued walking, his excitement renewed as he finally reached the familiar café. From outside, he spotted Taesan through the large glass window, slouched over at a table, his head hanging in defeat. The bright blue tang fish costume he wore made him impossible to miss.

Leehan pushed open the door to the café and walked in, making a beeline for Taesan. As he approached, he noticed just how defeated Taesan looked, head still down, face hidden under the bright blue fish head.

Sliding into the seat across from him, Leehan grinned. "Hey, buddy. How’s it going?"

Taesan lifted his head slowly, his face an expression of pure exasperation. "Happy birthday, man." He handed over a folded piece of paper—the next clue—before adding, "Just know that I never, ever want to do this again. This is the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done."

Leehan couldn’t hold back his laughter, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "You look amazing, though. I mean, really, you’re pulling off that fish look."

Taesan shook his head, groaning. "You say that now, but I’ve been sitting here for the past twenty minutes, and three different people have asked me if I’m a mascot for an aquarium."

Still laughing, Leehan opened the clue, scanning the words with growing excitement:

Clue #5: Head to your dorm!

"Guess I’m heading back to the dorm," he said, grinning as he folded the note and stood up.

Before leaving, Leehan gave Taesan a final pat on the back. "I’ll make sure to tell Y/n how much you loved this costume."

"Please don’t," Taesan mumbled, sinking deeper into his seat as the bright blue tang fish head wobbled slightly. "Just go."

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

As Leehan made his way to the dorms, the evening sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across the pavement. Despite the excitement of the birthday treasure hunt, his attention kept wandering—first to a group of students playing frisbee, then to a brightly colored mural someone was spray-painting nearby. He even stopped to pick up a stray piece of paper that floated by, staring at it like it might hold the next clue.

Behind him, Jaehyun, Sungho, Riwoo, and now Taesan, all clad in their ridiculous fish costumes, trailed discreetly but not-so-patiently.

"Why can't we just take off these stupid costumes?" Taesan groaned, pulling at the head of his blue tang suit as he tried to hide behind a lamppost. His face burned with embarrassment as a few students passed by, staring and giggling.

"We’ve come this far," Jaehyun, still dressed as the balloon molly, smirked. "If I’m warming up to this fish life, then so are you. We're all in this together."

"I think he’s starting to like the costume too much," Sungho whispered, adjusting his zebrafish costume with an exaggerated sigh. "I mean, we all knew he was a little weird."

"At least we’re almost there," Riwoo added, half-hiding behind a tree while adjusting his boxfish suit. "But seriously, how does he keep getting distracted? The dorms are right there!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of random stops and side glances, Leehan reached the familiar dorm building. He pushed open the door and walked in, grateful to escape the ever-growing distractions of campus life.

As he stepped into the dorm, he was greeted by a surprise. Sitting proudly on the couch, dressed in an oversized, plush corydoras fish costume, was the youngest member of his group, Woonhak. His wide grin stretched from ear to ear, the fish suit flopping around as he excitedly jumped to his feet.

"Happy birthday, hyung!" Woonhak exclaimed, his excitement palpable as he rushed over, nearly tripping on his own fins. "I’ve been waiting forever in this thing!"

Eyes widening in disbelief, Leehan couldn’t help but laugh. "You're the lucky one, staying in here all cozy while everyone else is out in public like this."

Woonhak beamed, still proud of his part in the treasure hunt. He handed over a small envelope to Leehan. "Here’s your last clue!"

Leehan took the envelope, still laughing, and gave Woonhak a pat on the back. "I gotta say, though, this costume’s a good look for you."

"Don't even start," Woonhak blushed, tugging at the corydoras fin that dangled over his shoulder.

Opening the envelope, Leehan pulled out the final note, his anticipation growing as he read the words aloud:

Clue #6: Head to your favorite place.

He glanced up, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He knew exactly where to go.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

Leehan walked with a bounce in his step, following the clue to what he assumed was his favorite place. His five members, still awkwardly trailing behind him in their ridiculous fish costumes, exchanged glances from a safe distance.

"Is he going the wrong way?" Sungho asked, his head tilting in confusion as they watched Leehan take a turn that clearly wasn’t toward the aquarium.

"Uh, yeah, that’s not it," Riwoo sighed. "He’s heading back to the apartment."

"Should we stop him?" Taesan was ready to jump out from behind a nearby tree and drag him in the right direction, but Jaehyun grabbed his arm and shook his head.

"Let’s just see how this plays out," he smirked. "He’ll figure it out eventually."

Reluctantly, Taesan dropped his hands and followed suit, still grumbling as they kept their distance. Sure enough, Leehan walked right past the aquarium, headed back to the shared apartment he lived in with Y/n.

"I told you he’s going the wrong way!" Taesan hissed in frustration.

The group huddled around a corner, watching as Leehan entered the apartment building. They stood there, waiting with bated breath, whispering between themselves about how long he’d take. After a few minutes, Leehan reemerged from the building, looking around curiously, scratching his head.

"What’s he doing now?" Woonhak asked, wide-eyed.

"I have no clue, but let’s just follow him," Riwoo said, and with that, they resumed their stealthy pursuit.

At first, it seemed like Leehan was wandering aimlessly, getting distracted by every little thing, but then the streets grew more familiar, the landmarks more recognizable. His five members, still in their fish costumes, let out a collective sigh of relief.

"There we go, he’s finally heading the right way," Sungho muttered.

Approaching the large, glassy entrance of the aquarium, Leehan smiled as he spotted Y/n, waiting by the entrance with a soft grin on her face. The moment their eyes met, she ran to him, her hair bouncing lightly as she crossed the space between them.

Without hesitation, Leehan pulled her into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder as she laughed.

"Happy birthday," she whispered into his ear.

"Thanks," he murmured back, his arms still around her. "Your plan’s been amazing so far."

"I know," she smirked, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze. "Your members kept messaging me, though. They said you kept getting distracted. And, apparently, you went back to the apartment instead of coming here."

Leehan chuckled, shaking his head. "The clue said to go to my favorite place. And honestly, my favorite place is wherever you are. So that’s why I went back."

Y/n blushed, her expression softening at his words. She looked over his shoulder and called out loudly, "Alright, you guys can come out now!"

The bushes nearby rustled, and one by one, his five members awkwardly emerged, still clad in their fish costumes. Taesan, looking thoroughly defeated in his blue tang suit, glared at Leehan, who burst out laughing at the sight of them all.

"You’re still wearing those?" Leehan teased, his grin wide. "Especially you, Taesan... I know you hate it."

"I’m never doing this again," Taesan grumbled, folding his arms over his chest.

"I don’t know, I think I’m starting to like mine," Jaehyun said with a wink, striking a playful pose in his balloon molly costume.

Y/n grinned and turned to the group. "Thank you all so much for going along with this ridiculous plan. I promise to treat you all to dinner after this."

Sungho let out a sigh of relief, pulling at his costume. "You better. I’ve had more people ask me for pictures than I can count."

With a laugh, Leehan slung his arm around Y/n’s shoulders, leaning in close. "Well, let’s not keep the fish waiting any longer," he joked.

Leehan, Y/n, and the five members, still in their fish suits, made their way inside the aquarium, drawing a few curious stares but laughing all the way. It was a birthday Leehan would never forget.

*ੈ♡⸝⸝🪐༘⋆

MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[noras-dc-shenanigans]

Adoption | Learn

“So let me get this straight.”

Danny stared at the group of vigilantes in front of him, a look of utter disbelief etched onto his face.

“Batman had a baby with Catwoman, she hid it from him, gave the baby up for adoption, and that baby is me. And you’re all here because Batman’s other ex also had a hidden pregnancy, but she’s a homicidal maniac who wants to make sure her son is the only blood child because of some weird cult rules?”

If they’d been in a cartoon, there’s be crickets chirping. He continued, voice growing less disbelieving and more angry as he went.

“And because some cult wants to kill me, I have to give up my whole life, cut off all contact with my family and friends, go live in a state 900 miles away, and stay cooped up— for an unknown amount of time— in Bruce Wayne’s mansion, because that’s who Batman really is.”

A stilted silence filled the room of the safe house Danny had been dragged to a few hours ago, sans the unnecessarily long explanation he’d just summarized.

After a few more moments, Nightwing stepped forward and smiled gently at him an oh, that rankled Danny. He did not need whatever kid gloves the guy was about to pull on. Before Bluebell had a chance to open his mouth, Danny channeled his inner Jazz and raised his hand for silence. Nightwing paused, and Danny proceeded to give them all a single, flat, unimpressed look, and then stated factually,

“I’m not leaving, I’m not staying with yet another frootloop billionaire, and I’m not in the least concerned with dying. So. You can all go back to where you belong, I’ll stay here, where I belong, and if any cultist come knocking I’ll deal with them just like I’ve been dealing with every other threat in this town the last six months: alone. Because apparently the entire Justice League is too busy to respond to calls for help about inter-dimensional threats popping in and out of my parents basement on a daily basis.”

… Okay, so Danny may have been yelling a bit by the end, but it was justified! And oh, Danny really wished his life was a cartoon right now, because that cricket chirping would be been perfect. He’s pretty sure he broke a few of them. Nightwing looked ready to cry.

Good. Danny was too tired to deal with this sh*t.

Thanks to the whole Pariah Dark thing last month, Danny was apparently immortal now anyways, so even if the cult people managed to completely destroy his body, he’d just reform in the Zone. Because he was now connected to it, and only another ghost could End him like he had Pariah, because of some weird dimensional rules. Apparently, since humans couldn’t rule the Infinite Realms, they just, like… didn’t qualify to kill him. That went for aliens, demons, gods, and other non-human beings of sentience.

So Danny’s got that going for him at least. About time something useful came outta this whole disaster of a school year.

But he’d gotten off track. Before him stood a truly ridiculous number of vigilantes, and they all looked like he’d just slapped them with a fish and then played violin with it. For a few minutes, Danny just basked in the stuttering and bewildered looks, before he noticed Nightwing drawing himself up in righteous determination and decided that yeah, he was done now.

At this point, being a dramatic a**hole to people (or ghosts) who were annoying him was just second nature, so he straightened to attention, raised his hand in a salute, and then let himself sink through the floor, perfectly stoic.

The stuttering turned to panicked shouts, and Danny’s last view of his apparent siblings was a few people lunging for him and missing, winding up tangled together on the carpet.

‘Ahhhh, yesss, I will treasure that memory always! Ah well, time to get home! Maybe I should scout out for those cult people, mess around with them. Maybe follow them back sometime, meet my half-brother. That could be fun, me and Ellie can make a road trip of it this summer! Maybe by then, the Justice Losers will have gotten their heads out as their butts.’

Meanwhile, back at the safe house, several frantic calls were being made about the dimensional threats and the League of Assassins and the possibly meta human, definitely vigilante brother.

Amity Park was about to get a lot more chaotic.

[goddessapostle]

Storm

Fandom: Genshin Impact Characters: Wanderer/Scaramouche, GN!Reader Summary: You're going to die thinking about a man whose name you don't even know. Warnings: Violence

1k // AO3 // Masterlist

A/N: Another request from @acidsbeats! Thank you for helping @ficsforgaza once again, and thank you for your patience this time as well! ^^

Damn, you wish you could fly. If your friend were here, he'd carry you down the cliff. Anemo Visions are so useful. 

But he’s not here. Bandits are. They separated you from the caravan you were guarding, then drove you up a cliff overlooking Mawtiyima Forest. You're trapped between a waterfall and a long drop. 

Your friend could hold them back. Then again, your friend could escape without certain death. Your friend is awesome. 

Except for the fact that he wont tell you his name. It’s been almost a year since you met the wandering Inazuman, but he just won’t reveal it.

“Call me whatever,” he said, more annoyed every time you asked. 

Well, Whatever won’t have to worry about it anymore. 

You dodge the fist headed for your face. Another lands in your stomach. You cough, but still manage to elbow the guy responsible. He stumbles away, clutching his nose. You have maybe a second to catch your breath. 

One man lounges in the back of the crowd. He nods towards you, and two more Treasure Hoarders walk forward. He’s the ringleader, clearly, but you have no clue why he’s targeting you specifically. He had a chance to steal your client’s wares but chose to chase you instead. 

You beat down his two grunts as the memory of him floats up from your mind. 

It was the night you and your friend met. Lambad kicked you both out of his tavern because he was tired of your bickering over the best seat in the place. This asshole tried to mug you both, but you kicked his ass right into jail. Your friend was impressed. He’d be impressed now, too, since you’ve just disabled seven of the people trying to beat you to a pulp. 

Fuck. Now is not the time to think about him. 

The mugger waves another person forward. 

“Fight me, coward!” you call. “I’ll go easy on you this time.” You smile, despite the pain of your split lip. 

The mugger stands. You raise your arms in front of your body, fists clenched, stance wide. 

You have no idea what happened next. You woke on the ground. The ache in your knuckles suggests you were fighting. The ache in your head suggests you lost. The bindings around your wrists confirm it. 

A blurry face floats in front of yours — the asshole mugger. 

“Not dead yet, I hope?” He sits you on your knees and brushes dirt from your shirt. His hand travels under it to yank your necklace from you.  

“Don’t–touch–” you try as he searches for more treasure. You can barely form a coherent thought.  

His fingers hover by your head, removing most of your earrings. He leaves you with just one pair — dangling silk ribbons that attach in three different places. 

If anything, you’re glad you still have those. They were a gift from your friend. They may be the only reason your body is identified. 

“Satisfied?” you ask as he walks back to the group. 

He hums, parsing through your jewelry with a finger. Scowling, he sets it on a nearby barrel and picks up a roll of leather. 

Five knife hilts reflect the sun as he unrolls it. 

The first knife sinks into your shoulder. You grunt, hoping he doesn’t hear it over the waterfall to your left. 

“You humiliated me.” The second lands in your thigh. 

“You have to pay for it, y’know?” The third, your abdomen. It burns with every breath you take. 

Wind rushes by your head. You think the fourth knife missed until you feel blood drip down your ear. 

“And your shit ain’t worth nearly enough.” 

There’s only one knife left. You have no doubt as to where it’s meant to go. 

You have to do something — maybe the waterfall? 

Water falls into a pool, usually, but you have no idea how deep it is or how long the drop. The fall could kill you. 

Could. You can risk could. 

The mugger raises his hand. 

You tense.  

A gaze lands on your back. One that’s familiar. One that’s full of rage. 

Your muscles go slack as air flows all around you. It gathers at some point behind you. 

“You dare touch what’s mine?” 

Your body sways, teetering in the wind. An arm steadies you, wrapping gently around your shoulders. 

Your friend slashes his other hand. 

The bandits fly. Some into the water. Others into trees. Those that can still move run away. 

The grip on your shoulder tightens before dropping to your wrists. He doesn’t untie the rope; you hear a snap! and then your hands are loose. 

You slump against your friend’s chest, wrapping your uninjured arm around him. Tremors make their way through your body. 

You were going to die. 

Gods, you were going to die. 

Your friend holds you close. 

“How?” you croak, voice lost with your adrenaline. 

“I was helping the Matra with an investigation. And...” He holds up his hand. In his palm is a knife that matches the ones still sticking out of you. The only difference is a scrap of fabric caught in the tang — the silk from your earrings. 

“You saved my life. Thank you.” 

The fabric flutters in a breeze. He stares at it, then at you. 

“Scaramouche,” he says. There’s a weight to the word, one you cannot decide is reverence or despair. “My name is Scaramouche.” 

You blink, slow to understanding. “Your… name?” 

“Call for me if you’re ever in danger again. I’ll find you. I can’t-I can’t lose you.” He hugs you tight, pressing you firmly against his chest for the briefest of moments. 

When it passes, he scoops you up — one hand on your back, the other under you knees. 

“What–” 

“You need a doctor. I’m going to tell Cyno where those assholes went then take you to one.” 

“Wait-” 

You scream when he jumps over the waterfall. 

Scaramouche just smirks. 

[sun-kissy]

mouth wide open | s.b.

tw: major character death

post-azkaban sirius x reader

summary: your husband, sirius, returns to you after twelve years. but at what cost?

A million different memories flash in your mind as you stare transfixed at the man in front of you - intertwining your fingers together when you first entered Hogwarts at 11. Smiling into the first kiss the two of you shared at fifteen. Being held in his arms as you sobbed into his chest when he proposed at twenty-one. Once memories to treasure had now morphed into memories to desperately grasp onto as they were snatched away from you.

“You just wait and see, love. I’ll leave you with your mouth wide open,” he used to say confidently, a grin on his face before he went and did something stupid to impress you. A small smile forms on your lips as you recall how often he claimed that in your teenage years.

It felt surreal, the moment you had dreamt of for years finally taking place right before your eyes. Twelve years, to be exact. You continue to stand there dumbly, quietly taking in his features and timeless beauty. His long, silky black hair, now unruly and messy with lack of care. His hypnotising grey eyes, now sunken and without a spark. Hey, what about that smile of his - the one which always made your heart flutter? You lock your eyes on his lips, eyes lighting up as you see the corners of his mouth tilted up in that familiar, teasing smirk. The familiar sensation of butterflies soaring in your stomach takes over your senses as you look him up and down.

Sirius Black. A name you had grown so accustomed to calling, but a name that had never left your mouth for the past twelve years. He was here now, after all this time. Sirius kept his promise - he said he would return to you, and he did. Your prayers had been answered. The world had brought your husband back to you.

But oh, how you wished he had been brought back to you alive.

“Miss?” the mortuary worker asked irritably, her voice filtering through the haze in your head, causing you to snap back to reality. “Is this your husband or not?”

You glance at her, inhaling sharply. The taste of blood is metallic in your mouth as you bite your lip to stop it from quivering. “Yes,” you murmur, your eyes glossing over as you reach over and gently close his eyes. “This is my husband, Sirius Black.”

“Good,” she mutters to herself, scribbling something on a piece of paper before grabbing the cart carrying his dead body and wheeling it out of the mortuary. You silently watch as he leaves you again. He had left you with a broken heart, crushed soul, and true to his words - your mouth wide open.

[momonyu]

the one that (almost) got away

roronoa zoro x fem!reader

it takes him 12 hours to realize

3.6k words

a/n: ok listen, i think i started writing this like 6+ months ago and it’s just been sitting in my drafts bc idk how to commit to endings so y’all are gonna have to take this as it is. also i have no concept of how sailing works or how long it takes oops

9:00 pm

“y'know, there's really no point to a farewell party if the one leaving isn't there.”

you look up from your spot on the library floor. your eyes land on the green-haired swordsman leaning against the doorframe and you smile.

“i’ll be there in a second. i just have some more stuff to go through.”

zoro eyes the mess of books surrounding you, recognizing a few of nami’s atlases and robin’s textbooks. “you haven’t finished packing yet?”

“i’m mostly done. i’m just trying to decide which books i want to keep.” catching his eye, you joke, “why? you want me gone that bad?”

crossing the room, a scoff leaves his lips. nothing could be further from the truth.

“you got me. i am so sick of you,” he says with a grin. “can’t wait to get rid of the annoying librarian invading my napping spot.”

zoro plops down on the bench behind you, catching a whiff of your shampoo as he lies down. you sit with your back to him, sorting through your piles, but zoro can hear the smile in your voice when you speak.

“you’re such a pretender, eh?”

zoro puts on a look of overdramatic offense, a hand on his chest. “me? you’re talking about me?”

at his poor acting, you turn around. you rest your chin on the bench, your face so close to zoro’s that one could only describe it as a kissable distance.

“you act like i'm all in your space, but nami told me that you never used to spend any time in here at all!”

“pfft, why would you ever trust what that con artist has to say?” zoro pokes your forehead. “you see it with your own eyes. am i or am i not here every day?”

you purse your lips as you think back to the last few months; he’s right.

you’ve spent most of your days in the ship’s library, and zoro has almost always stopped by. in the beginning, it would be for a few minutes, but over the last little while, he’d be in here as long as you were.

zoro smiles as he watches you think, eyebrows furrowed as you replay the last few months in your head. little do you know that this is exactly why the library is his new hideout. watching your pretty little mind work — doing what you love, thinking and studying and reading — is a far better use of his spare time than anything else he could be doing.

“anyway,” he says. “i guess your silly star stories have been a good trade-off.”

now it’s your turn to be mock-offended.

“silly star stories? you’re the one who asked about the constellations in the first place!”

“only because you kept talking about these fictional gods like they actually did something important.”

“says the guy who's completely enthralled by hades,” you roll your eyes.

“king of hell, god of the underworld,” he grins. “that’s my kinda guy.”

zoro laughs when you shake your head at him. he’ll never tire of teasing you; you are far too adorable with your little sigh and a ghost of a smile on your lips.

“did you know,” he says with a playful look. “that you still owe me about ten more constellation stories? d’you think you could squeeze in one more before we head up?”

zoro smiles at you, and you can't help but smile back. 

you have so many treasured memories with zoro in this library; ones of just the two of you (him napping while you studied), ones with nami and robin (and sanji until nami kicked the boys out for their incessant bickering), and ones where the night listens in as you recite the history of the stars.

whether you were telling the story of another righteous deity enacting justice, or the tale of mere mortals who insulted the gods, zoro would listen with his eyes closed, lying across the bench as he is now, and you’d sit in front of him as you are now.

everyone’s waiting for you upstairs and you hate to disappoint, but some things are more important — like telling a silly star story to a silly swordsman.

“of course i can.”

12:00 am

raucous laughter and cheering that’s loud enough to deafen anybody; empty plates, once piled high with food, now scattered around the room; bottles on bottles of sake and rum and whiskey and every liqueur that one would hope to find on a pirate ship.

these are zoro’s requirements for a good time, and suffice to say that your farewell party has them all in spades.

zoro watches his friends’ tomfoolery from his spot at the table (currently, luffy’s trying to get franky to see how far he can slingshot him) when you plop yourself into the seat beside him.

“this,” you say as your arm knocks against his, “is the best party i’ve ever been to.”

zoro takes a swig from his glass, “you haven’t partied until you’ve partied with pirates.”

“seriously! you guys are insane!”

as if to prove your point, franky chooses that exact moment to show off a juggling sequence involving a barrel of whiskey, a giant potted plant, and a squealing chopper.

you gasp at the spectacle but quickly dissolve into laughter when nami saves chopper, and it’s with both awe and pure excitement that you turn to zoro. laughter is etched into your lips, your cheeks are flushed, and zoro can’t help but marvel at how you’re even cuter when you’re having fun.

“what, you’ve never seen a cyborg man toss a speaking reindeer in the air before?”

you nudge him with your elbow, “well, excuse me for leading such a mundane life where animals don’t speak and men don’t tinker with their bodies.”

“ah, but that’s where you’re wrong.”

you look at zoro quizically.

he takes a sip of his beer, “most men do tinker with their bodies.”

it takes you a moment to catch his innuendo and zoro roars with laughter when the realization hits you. embarrassment tinges your pretty face and you shove him with a loud “ew, zoro!” but he can’t stop cackling.

“you’re disgusting!”

you make to swat zoro across the chest but he quickly catches your hand. he leans in to waggle his eyebrows at you, “but i’m not wrong, am i?”

you groan loudly, which only makes him laugh again.

perhaps it’s the alcohol that let his inhibitions go, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t have much longer with you, but when you hastily change the subject and there’s no longer a reason for him to still be holding your hand, he doesn’t let go.

when nami joins you two, his fingers slips between yours and to his surprise, yours do the same. sanji joins your threesome, then franky and robin, and in no time at all, it’s no longer just the two of you at the table.

but zoro doesn’t care.

drunk, carefree, and more content than he’s ever been, zoro closes his eyes and smiles. he lives in the moment, and in this moment, he’s happy — happy with a full stomach and a full glass, happy to be surrounded by his favourite people, and happy that, under the table, you’re still holding his hand.

3:00 am

“and what’s that one?”

hands swinging between you, you and zoro dodge the tide as you roam further and further from the thousand sunny. the sand is cool under your feet and the tide kisses your toes with each step. your other arm is stretched above you, pointing at a constellation in the distance.

“what is this - a pop quiz?”

you smile, “i want to make sure you don’t forget about my ‘silly star stories.’”

zoro groans, “has anyone told you that holding grudges isn’t healthy? keeping going and you’ll turn into a bitter old thing some day.”

you stick out your tongue, “you’re just afraid you’ll get it wrong.”

“wrong?” zoro scoffs. “i’ve gotten the past six right.”

walking along the beach, you and zoro fall in step with each other and your footsteps match the ebbing waves in perfect rhythm. you smile in his direction and his chest is flooded with a warmth that has nothing to do with the copious amounts of alcohol he’s consumed.

“alright, let’s see what we got here.”

zoro follows your gaze at the cluster of stars you’ve chosen, and he grins when he sees the constellation. “really? at least try to make this hard for me, please.”

his cocky attitude leaves you speechless, making zoro laugh. 

“you’re so annoying!” you shove him with your free hand and the force of his stumble pulls you along, and you shriek as he drags you into the ocean with him. he doesn’t let go of you, not even for a second — not when water splashes your legs, not when zoro’s pants get soaked as he spins you around. 

your laughter is warmth in its purest form, the kind that you can feel all the way down to your cold toes. when he sets you back down, you give his hand a little squeeze, to which zoro answers back with a tender smile.

now with wet feet and a distance between you that’s even smaller than it already was, zoro continues to walk alongside you.

“moving on from your pathetic distraction attempt,” — you let out a dramatic gasp — “i’ll tell you exactly who we were looking at.”

pointing at the starry zodiac sign, zoro speaks with complete confidence.

“virgo the maiden, otherwise known as persephone, wife and muse of the best god of them all, hades��”

“fanboy much?” you tease but zoro pretends not to hear you (the little tug of his lips tells you that he does).

“—who snuck her a pomegranate seed because he couldn’t bear for her to leave him.”

zoro puffs his chest with pride, relishing in this one niche study of which he is now an expert. it’s incredibly endearing how pleased he is with his answer and you almost feel bad for correcting him.

almost.

“good answer,” you grin. “but you left out the little detail about how she was kept in hell against her will.”

zoro gasps, “are you accusing my idol of being a kidnapper?”

“your idol!” your cheeks already hurt so much from smiling but another giggle slips out. “first of all, these aren’t my accusations. historians have told their love story this way for years—”

“slander is what this is.”

“—and secondly, why would you want to look up to hades? he’s literally the antagonist in every story.”

“he’s the king of hell! that’s so bad ass.” zoro winks at you, “don’t be surprised if you hear them calling me ‘zoro, king of hell’ some day.”

“what’s wrong, demon of east blue doesn’t go hard enough for you?”

embarrassment rushes to zoro’s face and he’s never been more grateful for the night. “who told you that? was it usopp or nami? i bet it was nami.”

“i might hold a grudge but i don’t snitch,” you flash a mischievous smile. “anyway, let’s get back to how you want to be just like devil who tricked a poor girl in returning to the underworld.”

“come on, can you blame a man for doing whatever it takes to stop his beloved from leaving him?”

it sounds like an innocent question — harmless banter, really — but something in the way he says it makes you stop dead in your tracks. a silence falls and in its wake, all you can do is stare at the man you’ve spent the last several months with, the same man that you have to say goodbye to tomorrow.

moonlight falls unto the both of you and bathes zoro in soft light. it illuminates his eyes and when you meet his gaze, you see a sense of longing there that you feel in your chest. a longing for what, you don’t know — or rather, you don’t want to know.

at least, not yet.

so you hold his hand a little tighter, and underneath the watchful eye of the gods and constellations, muster a smile,

“i guess not.”

6:00 am

if this was any other morning, zoro would be awake and working out already. he'd be done his fourth set of bicep curls or, at the very least, working on his form. he could even be in the middle of deadlifts (because he knows not to skip leg day), but he definitely wouldn't still be in bed the way that he is right now.

the thing is though, if this was any other morning, he wouldn't have you sleeping next to him, curled into him like you were made to be a perfect fit.

he's never been more glad to still be in bed.

your breath matches the rise and fall of zoro's chest, perfectly in rhythm with the waves outside his window and the beat of his heart, like the universe meant for all these things to be in harmony at this one singular moment in time.

your lashes flutter in response when he shifts his weight.

he takes a peek at you, “psst, are you awake?”

eyes still closed, you manage a noncommittal grunt but your body says otherwise.

zoro can’t help but smile as he watches you start to wake up. your toes wiggle beneath the covers and you rub your eyes before looking up at him with an adorably sleepy look that he would love to wake up to every day. 

if only he could.

you focus your gaze on zoro like he’s an anchor in a sea of slumber. the way that you look at him, as if he’s the only thing that you see, fills his chest with a golden warmth akin to the breaking dawn.

you offer him a soft smile, and zoro wonders if the sun knows that you glow brighter than it ever could.

“why are you up at this ungodly hour?”

he chuckles, low and tender, “’m used to it. i’m usually up by now.”

“freak,” you mutter. zoro laughs, and you can’t think of anything else that sounds more beautiful at six in the morning.

you’re not usually up this early but what you notice is that, at dawn, time has a habit of moving slowly. it’s as if the morning casts magic upon those who rise with the daylight — and you’re so thankful for that.

because if time moved any faster than this, you’d have to say goodbye that much sooner.

“are you going to miss us?” zoro puts his arms around you.

you murmur into his chest, “of course, i will.”

“who do you think you’ll miss the most?” 

you give pause and zoro’s almost certain you can hear his heart beating a little louder — he can definitely hear it. he doesn’t typically get nervous like this but, then again, nothing about the way you make him feel is typical.

you seem to have come to a conclusion because you look up at zoro and he holds his breath. 

“sanji.”

he blinks.

“wait, are you serious?”

you’ve never seen zoro looks so wonderfully scandalized before, and you burst into a fit of giggles. as soon as you start, he knows he’s been had. he scowls but only for a moment; for who could be upset in the presence of such twinkling laughter?

 “silly man,” you snuggle closer, "of course i’m not serious.”

“okay, good.” you can hear the smile in his voice. “i don’t know if my ego could handle losing to him.”

zoro holds you close, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. his movements are slow, steady, comforting — ‘round and ‘round, in the same spot, like he’s drawing an invisible mark that is only known to the two of you.

"but, you know,” you hum, careful not to disrupt the peace. “you wouldn’t.”

“wouldn’t what?”

“lose.” and after a beat, you quietly add, “you wouldn’t lose to anyone.”

and just like that, zoro’s on cloud nine, airborne and weightless. he’s always known that he has a place in your heart, but this is the first time that you’ve ever hinted about where that place may be. if he allowed himself to be hopeful, it almost sounds like a confession. 

but almost isn’t good enough for him. zoro wants more — wants to find out exactly where he belongs in your life, wants to know if he can make himself at home there. 

it’s a shame that he’s out of time.

you interrupt his thoughts with a whisper, barely audible above the sound of the ocean and his aching heart,

“will you miss me?” 

more than anything.

9:00 am

surely, zoro’s dream to be hades has been granted. otherwise, why would it feel like he’s in hell, standing on the deck, all alone and watching your dinghy sail away from the thousand sunny?

zoro’s had his fair shares of farewells while aboard the ship, and to be honest, yours wasn’t any more emotional than anyone else’s. you left with a smile as beautiful as the morning sun and with far less tears than he expected (which he’s thankful for because he would hate to see you cry). as far as bittersweet goodbyes go, yours was definitely more sweet than bitter.

and yet, here zoro stands, with a bad taste in his mouth that he can’t explain. he can still see you from where he stands, and watching your little boat in the distance is the only thing that seems to settle his uneasy heart. 

should he have bid adieu privately? maybe he should’ve left you with a memento of some kind? should he have done more than offer you a quick hug? was it his imagination, or did you hold onto him just a beat longer than you needed to?

zoro’s so occupied by these messy thoughts that he doesn’t even hear sanji approach him.

“well?”

startled, zoro can only stare at the blond cook. ignoring the dumb look on his face, sanji continues.

“what’d she say when you told her?” sanji nods in the direction of your boat.

“told her what?”

“that you love her,” sanji takes a drag of his cigarette, looking at zoro directly now.

he speaks so frankly, so matter-of-fact and candidly, that it takes zoro a second to really register what it is that he’s saying. 

he loves you.

and as soon as he thinks it, the truth comes barreling through all the doubts clouding his head. clarity floods his chest as he comes face-to-face with what his yearning, pining heart has been trying to tell him this whole time.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you. he loves you-

fuck.

he loves you.

and he never told you.

epilogue — 9:30 am

sails closed, your boat floats with the current and the salty breeze reminds you that your adventure with the strawhats has come to a close. compared to the never-ending bustle of the crew, it’s almost too quiet being at sea alone. the silence lends itself to your overactive mind, working full time to unravel the tightness you feel in your chest.

you’re lost in thoughts of what could’ve, should’ve, and would’ve been — so much so that you don’t even hear the commotion behind you. it’s not until you hear zoro call your name that you hear the frantic swimming and you whirl around.

“zoro! what-”

“can you help me first?” he splutters.

you pull yourself together long enough to run to the side of your dinghy, pulling a sopping wet pirate on board. zoro leans back, trying to catch his breath as you rummage through your things.

“are you crazy? do you know how far we are from the sunny?” you throw a towel over him before reaching for another. you start drying off his hair, frantically fussing over him.

“you think that just because chopper gives you the clearance that you can push yourself over the limit-”

“y/n.”

“this is why you’re always on house arrest! you’re actually insane, you know that?”

“y/n.”

“i know you work out, but for goodness’ sake, zoro, you’re only human-”

“y/n.” zoro holds your wrists, forcing you to stop with a start.

in all your worrying, you didn’t realize that you’d been gravitating closer to zoro until you’re staring into his dark, obsidian eyes. there’s clarity in the way that he looks at you. his eyes are shining with a fierceness that you’ve only seen in his worst fights, and you brace yourself for whatever comes next.

because you know that this will change everything.

“hades and persephone.”

“huh?“ you blink at him. “did you hit your head-”

“ask me if i think hades loved persephone.”

you stare into zoro’s eyes, desperation reflecting back at you. there’s a hidden question there and you understand immediately.

quietly, you ask, "do you think hades loved persephone?”

“i do,” he whispers. “i think he loved her and he would've been stupid to let her go.”

your breath catches. zoro places a hand over yours, surprisingly warm as his fingers find their home between your own.

the heavens watch on as the two of you finally open your hearts and give way to the stuff that myths and legends yearn for — a connection that can only be described as fated, destined, purely and resplendently magical.

the gods smile at the two lovers who find themselves falling into each other, laughing as you confess, over and over again,

i love you.

[syrupfog]

Zoro has always had a nose for alcohol. It’s how he’s always able to find it whenever the cook finds new hiding spots— 

Used to. Used to find new hiding spots. He’s not their cook anymore. 

But he’s got a nose like a bloodhound for alcohol, which is how he ended up here, at what looks like an abandoned shrine to a god he doesn’t believe in, on the outskirts of Wano. 

It’s easy enough to dig up a floorboard and find a veritable treasure trove of sealed bottles filled with purple liquid. Saké of some kind, surely.

If it’s good enough for some god, it’s good enough for him. The nap he takes after the first bottle, though, is… vivid. 

The cook is there. Why is the cook there? Fuck him. But Zoro watches as he paces. He’s in some ridiculous getup with a cape.

And suddenly, in the way dreams often go, they’re in the Sunny. And Zoro is watching the cook embrace HIMSELF. Another Zoro. He’s got him in a death grip so strong Zoro himself can almost feel it, watching as he is from a distance.

But then the Zoro he’s watching us pushing Sanji off of him, and drawing his swords, and yelling something about betrayal and disloyalty, and Zoro sure does agree with THAT. 

He watches as Sanji steps back, hands up, placating, and that Zoro growls and lunges at him.

When Zoro wakes up, he vows to forget about Sanji and move on. He’s gone, and no useless dream is going to bring him back. 

He lives his day as a ronin as is the plan, but returns to his secret stash of saké at night. It’s good, free and plentiful.

And the next night his dream is just as vivid. 

It’s the Merry this time. The Sanji in his dream has his hair parted the old way, and there’s a young Zoro with both his eyes, still. Zoro growls in disgust. Again with the cook? 

It’s night in the dream and they’re on the deck,

Sanji’s got a hand laid gently over young Zoro’s, and with the other he’s pointing out a school of glowing fish. Zoro has a vague memory of the real moment, but not of the hand over his. 

Then Sanji leans over and KISSES young Zoro, which— okay. So this is one of THOSE dreams.

The ones full of longing that Zoro’s worked to squash. 

But he watches his younger self kiss back, and get everything Zoro never got. He’s bitter, looking at them. 

And then young Zoro is pushing him off, and yelling. That he’s a liar and a traitor and royalty playing at pirates.

Zoro’s really not sure about where that last part is coming from. But he watches the horror wash across Sanji’s face and something inside of him twinges a little. He hears a whispered “I didn’t want this,” but it’s covered by the sharp sound of swords drawn, and then nothing.

Zoro doesn’t return for the saké for two more nights. He has no dreams. 

When he returns, sips, and sleeps, he finds himself in the Baratie. 

He really doesn’t remember much of the place, so the details of it now surprise him. The whole crew is there, even Brook, all except Sanji

When he appears, from the back, he looks haggard. Exhausted. Sopping wet. He’s wearing a waiter’s uniform, and has none of the bravado Zoro remembers from the Baratie. 

“Your favorites?” He asks, sounding almost hopeful. “Sea king curry? Mikans? Cotton candy?”

He’s met with silence, everyone stopping what they’re doing. Luffy breaks it. “Why would we want anything YOU make?” He asks. “A failure like you doesn’t even deserve to serve the future pirate king.” 

Zoro, watching from his table in the back, sees the way Sanji breaks.

He shrinks in on himself. “Please,” he says. “I’ll do better.” 

“You couldn’t even keep them safe,” says a voice Zoro recognizes as his own, sitting among them. “You left Luffy to starve.” 

“N-no,” Sanji trembles. “Please, I couldn’t— I had to keep everyone safe—“

Zoro can’t listen to any more of this. He stands, chair scraping the floor loudly. 

Sanji’s eyes snap to him. Not the him at the table, but HIM. 

As the dream fades out, Zoro finds himself glued in place under the weight of that shocked stare.

He thinks there might be something wrong with the saké. 

But, after one night without it, his curiosity gets the best of him. 

The dream is in a castle, imposing stone walls and dark lighting. Sanji is there, in front of a mirror, his face covered in purple and green bruises.

He’s playing with gold cuffs around his wrists. 

Zoro steps up, out of the shadows, and Sanji sees him in the mirror. His eyes are red and swollen. 

“Mosshead,” he breathes. His breath hitches and he swipes at his face with the heel of his palm. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything. He’s used to another Zoro being here for this part. 

“I know you won’t forgive me,” Sanji says. “If— when I come back. I know even in my dreams it’s too late. But I need you to know I loved you.” 

“Loved?” Zoro questions.

“Love,” Sanji chokes out. “Love. Fuck. Always will, at this rate. Just— When I see you again, when we meet in Wano— please don’t pretend you forgive me when you don’t. I can’t— it feels like every dream I have you love me before you hate me and I can’t take that again. Please don’t even give me hope. I know this was unforgivable.” 

“Why’d you do it, then?” Zoro asks. This is a dream and can offer no real answers, but he still craves them. 

Sanji sobs, both hands on his face now. The bracelets rattle. “They said they had Zeff,” he says.

“They— you weren’t at Zou! They could’ve easily destroyed everyone there and I wouldn’t have been able to stop it! I just— I wasn’t supposed to live this long. I wasn’t supposed to live this WELL. I can’t keep being selfish.” 

Zoro scoffs. “Shut up,” he says, and Sanji flinches.

“Just fucking get back here or whatever. I don’t care about your excuses anymore. I’ll be waiting.” 

He turns to leave, and as he does, a pink haired girl with curly eyebrows runs into the room and says something about Luffy. Fucking weird dream.

Zoro wakes up, and he doesn’t drink the saké again. 

When he sees Sanji, it feels like it’s been a lifetime. The kimono he’s wearing is bright and his smile mirrors it. 

Then Sanji turns and catches sight of Zoro and his smile dims. 

Zoro feels angry all over again.

What was WITH all those fucking dreams? 

He ignores him as long as he can, until they’re together on the edge of a forest and Sanji’s sleeves roll up just enough that Zoro catches sight of two red rings, fading into brown, around his wrists. 

How… 

“Cook,” Zoro says.

Sanji looks to him. He looks almost… scared. “What, dumbass?” 

Zoro thinks about the cape with the silly outfit and the cuffs. He pauses. “Do you have a— sister? Pink hair?” 

Sanji looks BEWILDERED. “…yes?” He asks. “Is— has she been here?” 

Not physically, Zoro thinks.

Zoro takes a moment to recontextualize every dream he’s had since getting to Wano. 

“Cook,” he says. Slower. 

Sanji grits his teeth. “What,” he says. “Whatever you want to say, just spit it out.” 

Zoro’s not sure what he wants to say. He wants to say many things.

Things like “I don’t forgive you for leaving” and “you betrayed us” and “you betrayed ME”. But also now things like “what were those first two dreams? The ones with us?” And “did you stop having those dreams after I stopped” and “was it worth it” and “did you want to come home”

What he settles on is, “Is it all finished?” 

And maybe that was the worst possible question in the most vague way, but Sanji takes a moment and then nods, the motion a little jerk-y. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m— it’s finished.” 

“Good,” Zoro says. He steps up to him and Sanji flinches

Somehow, more than anything else, THAT is what convinces Zoro that the dreams were shared. That they were Sanji from the beginning. 

He ignores the flinch. He grabs Sanji’s wrist, avoiding the fading bruise, and squeezes to the edge of too tight. 

“You were a fucking idiot.”

Sanji goes to draw back but Zoro tugs him closer. “You were a fucking idiot and I did hate you for it. But I. Don’t.” 

Sanji freezes. He stares at the grass between them. 

“Don’t leave again,” Zoro says. “I don’t hate you. Don’t leave again.”

There’s tears on Sanji’s face that Zoro won’t mention. “Okay,” he says. “Shitty swordsman. Don’t get full of yourself.” 

But he leans forward. Hesitantly. Like a child waiting to be reprimanded. And when Zoro doesn’t, Sanji’s head lands on his shoulder.a

And Zoro doesn’t mention the tear tracks on his kimono or the way Sanji shakes apart in front of him. 

And Sanji doesn’t mention that Zoro doesn’t let go of his wrist. 

And maybe it’s a reoccurring problem, that neither of them mention things often enough. 

But today—

Today and tonight, it works in their favor. 

And when all this is over, no one else mentions is when they hold hands over the railing of the Sunny and watch the glowing fish pass by.

[ruershrimo]

i.yuji x reader | konbini in the night

there are breadcrumbs on your face. you wipe them off and throw the packaging away in the dustbin next to his bike, the darkness of the night contrasting the bright lights of the convenience store next to you.

“look!” he calls out, the light in his pink hair fading as he exits the store, “I got one of these strawberry sandwiches I keep seeing online lately.”

the glint in his eyes is like powdered sugar on a perfect cake, or fireworks in a starry sky. sweet, bright, unforgettable— a treasure in people’s memories. the convenience store had been like an oasis in the dim, merely lamp-lit streets, and the two of you decided to dash straight into it before getting back to jujutsu high’s dormitories.

“you sure you don’t want anything else?” he asks, “the cashier lady’s actually really nice. I can give you some of these sandwiches, too.”

you’re sure it’s because he’s nicer. that he walked up to the counter, with that adorable face and kind smile, and the lady just treated him the same. like how sunflowers shined at and turned their heads to the sun.

“no, I’m fine.”

“hm…” he goes, “okay. but you should eat more, you know?”

“pft— yuuji, I’ll be just fine. don’t worry, okay?”

“okay,” he says with a pout.

he gets on the bicycle, and reflexively, you sit behind him. (you really have been pavlov’ed into getting on the passenger’s seat every time he’s on his bike, huh?) he places the sandwiches next to where you’ve placed your own water bottle in the basket, and you lean forward so that your face rests against his back while your arms are wrapped loosely around his neck. the hard pillion seat feels as comfortable as a mattress on display in a department store.

the ride back to the dorms— back home, actually— starts mostly mundanely, the wind humming softly against your face, the night dissolving your consciousness in slumber. you feel just that one bit out of control of yourself, and your head feels light to the point where you don’t want to think about anything at all.

“...let’s get married, yuuji,” you whisper under the twinkling stars, your spirit warmly embracing his while you press your chest more against his back. normally you’d be too scared to, especially with your breath still smelling like sandwiches: all too ridden with your own inhibitions— but this night in particular is almost a perfect one, so for once you don’t mind.

there is so much pain in the world but not here. not behind him and definitely not on the seat behind his back. the world ahead is uncertain but you’d be willing to face it with him head-on as long as he’s fine with it.

“huh? married?” he doesn’t know if the red on his cheeks is obvious but he thinks that even if it is you wouldn’t see it under the night sky. you can tell that under his large brown eyes there’s the faintest of blushes— you don’t need eyes to see that.

you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. he smells like some kind of 3-in-1 shampoo-conditioner-shower gel thing, but you guess that’s a testament to how much you love him since you don’t mind it at all. it’s wonderfully endearing to you now: the plain, minty scent that clings to his trademark ref hoodie, how the ends of his spiky pink hair poke and tickle at your face, how you can hear his low, slow breathing like a soft melody soothing you to sleep.

you’re not going to think that you’ll lose him someday. if you did then you wouldn’t be able to live. but if you didn’t promise this now— now when you’ve still only met him three months ago— and lost him, you’d spend your whole life grieving over him.

“mhm,” you reply, “let’s get married. I want to stay with you for a lifetime.”

and if this isn’t love you don’t know what love is anymore.

he looks back for a moment, and smiles, showing his teeth off like a little kid.

“sure! I wanna have that too.” he turns back. “I mean, I wanna make you happy. really happy. every day. and you wouldn’t have to worry about keeping me happy because I’d be the happiest guy in the world as long as you were. and, and—” —he lets one of his hands go from the bicycle handles; you open your eyes as he starts making gestures with it as accompaniments to his words— “— we’ll have this nice house or something, and it can be whatever you like. we can think of something together. and we won’t have much but it’ll be enough, I think.”

“mhm,” you smile. you bet he can feel the imprints of your lips on his skin, because it lays the slightest of gooseflesh on the back of his neck, the hairs there rising a little. as gross as it sounds you don’t worry if it’s chapped, and you guess he doesn’t mind either. “we’ll have just enough for us.”

he hums in agreement. “yeah.”

it’s quiet for a while, just the night air mixed with his scent, the grass swaying along to a silent tune, him, and you.

“…you know, a lot of people think that things like this come in sequences or something. like you have to at least kiss and do more than studying or going to the store together. we don’t even go to each others’ rooms at night or spend every second together and all… but— I think… I think I already know I want to spend my whole life with you. I mean, I really, really love you. so I get kinda worked up about lots of stuff sometimes but then I’ll see you again and that tells me things’ll be fine. that we’ll work things out.”

“yeah,” you say, your breath brushing against his skin again. it warms your cheeks up as the heat in it spreads around your face like hot tea. “we will. we definitely will. I promise.”

you fall asleep on his shoulder and don’t care about waking up on time the next day.

haha I just wanted to get this out since it’s been sitting in my docs app for about a month,,, also 恭喜发财 to the people who celebrate it, and happy Valentine’s Day since it’s coming up soon! so sorry if this is subpar or has any grammatical mistakes TvT

[dark-frosted-heart]

Ghost House Report - Roger Barel (premium end)

This event came out back in the start of July. This story event happened before Roger’s route, so Kate and Roger aren’t in a relationship.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this.

Mansion owner: I won’t let you!

A frenzied black mist swirled around me.

Kate: —?!

Roger: Kate!

Kate: Gah…cough…

The black mist entered my mouth and I found it difficult to breathe.

My body slowly grew weak and I lost my grip on the sack.

Roger: Stop it! She’s not the one you want!

Roger let go of Harrison and Jude, and reached toward me.

(Ro…ger…)

Roger: Hang in there!

He hugged me tight, but the mansion owner’s ghost had already completely entered me—

They began speaking through me.

Mansion owner's ghost: …Haaa, it’s not like I wanted this woman’s body. But she’s probably more useful.

(Ugh…so…uncomfortable…)

Mansion owner's ghost: Maybe it’s because she’s also normal, but she’s a good fit…I didn’t think I’d be able to control her so well. Besides…hehe, you’re holding this woman pretty close. And unlike those guys, she doesn’t seem to mind.

(D-don’t tell him that…!)

Roger: ‘Course she doesn’t. She’s my dog after all.

(You’re calling me your dog at a time like this…)

Mansion owner's ghost: How long are you going to keep bluffing for? Just let me possess you. Or else—

Roger: You planning on stopping the lil’ lady’s heart and killing her?

Mansion owner's ghost: Urk… …Now I don’t just want your body…I want your brain too. I’m familiar with killing people, but I’ve never done it like this. I refrained because I wasn’t used to this. But now—

Roger: —Shut your mouth already.

Mansion owner's ghost: Mnn?!

(!!)

Roger’s lips crashed into the mansion owner’s (mine).

(Huuhhh, w-wait, Roger…?!)

Roger forcefully sucked the ghost possessing me out.

Roger: Ngh…urk…

Mansion owner’s ghost: Gaahhh…Ahhh…

Harrison: O_O…There’s a limit to strength.

Jude: Tch, the hell ya makin’ me watch?

Without even realizing it, my body felt relief—

After parting from me, Roger licked his lips and flashed me a relaxed smile.

Roger: Ha, thanks for that, lil’ lady. How’re you feeling?

(...No way! What just happened?!)

(Ummm, in any case, he saved me…right?)

(With mouth to mouth)

The memory of it made my face grow warm.

Kate: …Thank you.

I managed to thank him even though my lips were numb.

Roger: Ah, looks like you can talk now, good. Your complexion’s coming back.

Roger was smiling like usual.

Kate: U-um, are you feeling okay…? Since you sucked the ghost in…?

Roger: Yeah, was planning on taking the ghost in anyway ‘til we had a plan.

Did it in the best way possible.

My eyes came to a stop at his grin and I felt my cheeks heat up again.

Roger: Don’t worry. They said they wanted to possess me. But things didn’t work out the way they wanted it to, so they’re feeling frustrated.

It seemed like even ghosts were no match against Roger’s steel-like body and mind.

Harrison: Glad you’re safe, Kate.

(Wah! They saw!)

Kate: Ummm…

Harrison: It’s like CPR. Don’t worry about it.

Jude: Don’t care. Anyway, whatcha gonna do with that in yer belly?

Jude spat out in disgust as he looked at Roger’s abdomen.

Roger: Thanks to Kate’s actions, I was planning on sending them to the other side. Their anchor…I’m thinking it’s a good idea to get rid of what’s in the sack.

As he said that, he picked up the sack that I had dropped, along with its notes and letters.

Roger: The stuff inside…Ugh?!

Kate: Roger?!

Roger acted strangely, covering his mouth and gasping—

Mansion owner’s ghost: …Don’t touch…my…treasure…

(That’s not Roger’s voice!)

Roger: Ku…they’re talking through my stomach…

Mansion owner’s ghost: I…will get special abilities…and this man’s meat sack…will be mine… And then…with my treasure…in that bag of materials…I’ll become stronger…

Jude: Persistent one aintcha? 

Roger: I need to check this letter… Looks like I can’t keep them in for much longer…Ngh…

Mansion owner’s voice: Haha! Give me your body and I’ll show you all you want…! Be mine…

Roger: Haaa, haha, sounds tempting. But I won’t be myself…so unfortunately, I can’t give you my body. But…your “treasure’s” yours…so I’ll give it back.

After saying that, Roger held the sack containing the “treasure” to his mouth.

Roger: —Haaaa…..

Jude and Harrison: O_O!!

The sack blew up like a balloon.

Kate: Are you trapping the ghost in the bag…?!

Roger: —Haa! Haaaa, haaaa.

Roger was breathing heavily as he tied the bag up shut.

Kate: Roger! Are you okay?

Roger: Yeah, I’m fine. I expelled the whole ghost out.

The ghost swirled around inside the bag.

Mansion owner’s ghost: Aaahhh! Aaaahhh! I’m back with my treasure at last! As long as I have this research material, I’ll be able to get special abilities!

Jude: They’re enjoyin’ themself.

Harrison: It’s some form of happiness. Since they’re now trapped with their treasure.

Roger: Right, onto the final step.

--

We placed the sack with the ghost in a kidney dish in the clinic.

We then lit the bag with a match borrowed from Jude and it burst into flames.

Mansion owner’s ghost: Waaahhhhh! What’s happening!

Roger: Just pass on to the other side quietly. —With your precious “treasure”.

Mansion owner’s ghost: Ahhhhh…it’s turning to ash…

In the crackling flames, the mansion owner’s ghost desperately tried to protect the letters and notes.

Kate: Roger, was it okay to burn them? I think those letters contained research done here.

Roger: I did want those letters and thought it was a waste to burn them. However, it’s unethical research—lives were taken for it. So it’s better to get rid of it with the ghost.

Roger stared down at the mansion owner’s ghost panicking amidst the flames.

Roger: …Hey, owner. Now you don’t have to worry about your treasure getting stolen. Pass on without any regrets.

Mansion owner’s ghost: …ugh…! Yeah…I’ll…be with my treasure…forever… In the next life…I’ll have special abilities too…

Kate: …

The flames gradually died down until it went out, leaving only ashes behind—

But even that was blown away by a gust of wind that came from nowhere and it vanished like smoke.

As night fell, sobs could no longer be heard from this mansion.

Roger: The souls sacrified too— Maybe they’ll let go of their grudge against the mansion’s owner and pass on.

Kate: …I hope so

(I hope that those dragged into the mansion owner’s greed…rest in peace)

Through our investigation, we suspected that this mansion had secretly conducted research on the cursed and that it was highly unlikely to be a base for crime.

--

Kate: Roger, why am I the only one that needs to be examined? Didn’t Lord Elbert and Alfons get possessed too? Not to mention the fact that you sucked the ghost in…

Roger: Those guys aren’t hurt so I had them rest. I’m fine too. As for you…I think they were messing around with your body. …Around here.

I felt a shock when he touched where my heart was.

Kate: And you touch me there right after saying that…!

I grabbed his wrist with my hands, but he easily held my hands with his other hand.

Roger: Your heartbeat’s pretty loud.

Kate: Of course it would be! Since you suddenly…

Roger: Yeah, you’re fine…That’s a relief.

I couldn’t see his face, but I heard a sigh of relief.

(...Was he really worried about me?)

Kate: Um…Thank you so much for saving me.

When I relaxed against him, he looked at my face.

Roger: …Since I saved you, I should get a reward. A kiss should do.

(!)

Roger: That kiss back then wasn’t hot, so let’s try again.

Kate: Y-you want a kiss as a reward?

Roger: You can give me more than a kiss?

There seemed to be some sort of evil plan behind those amber eyes as they stared at me, as if to test me.

(It’s like he’s trying to seduce me)

(But I was saved thanks to Roger…)

(I should thank him properly)

Kate: …Okay.

I felt embarrassed, but I prepared myself. I placed my hands on Roger’s shoulders and faced him.

Kate: …Mn

I gave him a peck on the lips and pulled away—

Roger: …You can’t really call that a kiss.

Kate: Ugh, but I…Mnnn!

He cut me off by sealing my lips with his and slipped his tongue in.

Earlier, he was sucking something out of me. This time, he was the one pushing in.

Kate: Mnnn…Haa…

When I tried to pull away, he entangled his tongue with mine and then freely explored my mouth.

Roger: …You got possessed by a ghost. So I’m gonna cleanse you.

[black-arcana]

the GazettE members says farewell to Reita

With the passing of Reita, the members of the GazettE have shared their heartfelt and heartbreaking farewells to the brightest bassist out there, Reita.

In the farewell messages, the members make mentions of the “forever” that Reita wished for, referring to Reita’s last tweet posted the day before his passing.

Reita’s last tweet: “I hope that the GazettE lasts forever”.

In our translations below, we tried to keep the messages as faithful to the original source as possible, taking into account nuances such as vocalist Ruki’s use of hiragana for “Reita” (れいた), and the other members’ use of “REITA” in capital letters, and more.

Please read every word that the members had to share.

Vocalist Ruki

I think the meaning of what [Reita] posted at the end, “I hope that the GazettE lasts forever”, is that he wanted to be able to see that amazing view from the stage in 2023—the view that he saw with his own eyes—for the rest of time. That view he saw together with you, the fans. Your happy faces. That place where all of us raised our voices together. That wonderful, irreplaceable treasure. I think that he thought it would be wonderful if that moment would last an eternity. I remember you saying that you wanted to play a show soon. “Even when I’m having a hard time, getting together with my band members like this and laughing is when I’m having the most fun”, he was the type of kind, passionate guy, who even after becoming an adult could say this with total honesty. I loved that honesty. We even joked around about taking care of our health this year, just like we did every year on our birthdays. This band will never be a 4 member thing. No matter what anyone says. You’re the only bassist for us. I know your soul is always going to be there on my right-hand side. Nobody will be able to see it, but we’ll feel it. That proof of life that you built with the GazettE will live on. That’s what I believe. That you’ll always be beside me as I keep singing, Reita. We’ll never become something that you’d hate. I don’t want to make you sad. Humans lives are finite, but I think the soul remains. Your soul will live on, in us, in me, in our fans. I want to keep playing shows that will make those I love want to come back and play, even when they’re just souls. Because all of our fans are here for us, we can create that view he wanted to see and keep him here with us forever. So please stay by my side from here on out, too. I know he’d like it best if you remembered him with a smile, and how amazing he was, instead of being sad when you see him. We’ll be more than ready to look after this band from here on out. We’ll show you that “forever” you wished for, Reita. So make sure you come down from heaven for every show, okay? We’ll always have a seat for you. Things are going to get really busy from here on out. Once we’ve settled on a schedule, I’ll contact you again.

Guitarist Uruha

To all the fans who supported REITA until now, I think he was a huge source of support for everyone, including myself. I still can’t accept that he’s not here, that we won’t be able to stand on stage together again. I think there’s going to be a lot of things I’ll come to understand slowly over time. But drowning in sorrow forever won’t let us bring his wish to see “forever” to life, and I deeply feel that I need the strength to keep moving forward from here on. I also think that the road we paved with him to get here is irreplaceable, and I think we all want to keep that alive inside of us in the future. He gave us so much, and stood by our side for so long, and now and forever, he will be one of my closest friends. Please keep all the words, the memories, and the love for everyone that he gave us in your hearts. REITA will live on in our hearts. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for always supporting the GazettE and REITA in more ways than one.

Guitarist Aoi

Out of all the things and all the work I’ve had to do with these members and our small team of staff, this is the only one I haven’t wanted to do. There was a time in the past when I considered giving up on my dream. Back then, after so many discussions, and some encouragement, the other members managed to convince me not to give up. That’s the kind of band we are, and that’s how the GazettE came to be where it is. REITA, you’re not the type of person who wishes for eternity. You’re the type who is eternal. To someone like you, I can’t say something clever like “I’ll carry the weight of your burden too”. I wanted to make more music with you, and see so much more together. No matter where or what, if it’s all 5 of us and our fans are there, it would be amazing. It’s so painful, having all these things I want to say and knowing none of them will come true. Anyway, when I make my way over there, I’m going to give you a stern talking to. You must be sad that we’re suddenly not around anymore, but just rest up until we meet again. I have a little more that I need to do on this side first. Thanks for coming all this way with us. Rest in peace.

Drummer Kai

REITA was such a huge presence to me, more than I can even know. All the words, saving me with sound, the mood maker of the band; really, I have so many truly wonderful memories of him, but most of all, his brilliant appearance when he was on stage. He was the best partner anyone could ask for in the rhythm section, truly one of a kind. That hasn’t and will not change. I want to carry his memory with me, and be more determined than ever to continue the GazettE. Lastly, to all our fans and associates who have supported us throughout these 22 years, Thank you. I want to keep running forward, all 5 of us, and hope you’ll stay with us. REITA. Rest easy. Thank you. Just like always, with everyone by our side, we’ll keep the GazettE alive. I promise. I don’t want those 22 years of yours to be wasted, and there are plenty of others who don’t either. Make sure you show your face at our shows! Let’s drink the good stuff together again sometime, okay?

We tried to get these message ready for you as soon as possible, but reading through them was extremely emotional and difficult for us.

While we understand that for most, this might not provide any real closure, but we hope you were able to grasp the sentiment and genuine emotions that the members shared.

As fans, we will continue to protect that “forever” too, Reita. Please rest assured.

[lexsssu]

Good Little Girl (Marshall Lee)

TAGS: Mashall/F!Reader, Original child character, parenthood, fluff Ao3 ver.

“Mishael Linus Abadeer, get your sorry butt down here already before your dinner gets cold!”

“Jeez, I’m coming down already, Ma”

“If you don’t hurry up I’ll eat your portion of fresh strawberries, kid~”

“Dad, don’t be so unfair when you already have your own portion!”

“Not my fault if you’re a slowpoke”

A handsome dark-haired youth flew into the humble dining room hurriedly, seating himself at his designated chair and clutching the small bowl of strawberries to his chest as if they were a priceless treasure. His skin had a grayish hue to them, pointed ears peaked from his ebony tufts of luscious hair while a pair of sharp fangs poked from his lips. The scowl he wore didn’t make him look menacing, but rather even more attractive than he already was in the first place.

“Now, now, now. Stop teasing our son already, Marsh. You know how he gets when it comes to his strawberries and besides, aren’t you already too old to be competing with him over food?” You stifled a laugh as you raised an eyebrow at your husband who merely grinned, shrugging in response.

“It’s survival of the fittest, babe. If our own kid doesn’t understand that then he doesn’t deserve the plump and juicy fresh strawberries you’ve painstakingly grown, picked, and washed straight from our garden”

The vampire king wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you closer, landing a quick kiss to your hair as your preteen son gagged at the public display of affection. “No spawn of mine will grow up ungrateful to their beautiful, amazing, spectacular, wonderful mama~”

Dinner passed by without much fanfare aside from the playful teasing your family generally engaged one another with. Though mainly it was just Marshall being the big bully that he was, something Mishael had already grown used to ever since he was young.

While you washed the dishes, you spotted your son fumbling with his phone as he floated back up to his room. A bright smile lit up his face as a tinge of red gave his cheeks some much needed color and contrast from the grayish hue he’d inherited from his father.

“Lemme guess, he’s probably hung up on Fiona & Evan’s kid...Evie, right?”

Years of being with Marshall had trained you to anticipate his sudden appearance at all possible times that you didn’t even flinch anymore when you hear his voice and feel the warmth of his breath on the back of your neck.

“Mhmm, he’s got it quite bad from the looks of it. Kinda reminds me of another lovesick vampire I knew back in the day…” The corners of your lips quirked upwards in a smile as memories of a time not so long ago flashed in your mind like a cinematic movie.

“Whaddya mean you ‘knew’ back in the day? I’m still very much YOUR lovesick vampire until the universe itself collapses and time ceases to exist, thank you very much”

Placing the last plate upon the dish rack, you wipe your hands dry on the dry dish cloth before gingerly taking the raven-haired male’s face into your hands and pecking his nose. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way, my bad little boy~”

A tender looked slithered its way onto the hybrid’s face, snaking his arms around you until your front was pressed flush against his own. You both floated a few feet off the ground, arms around your waist and your own around his neck as you stared into each other’s eyes.

Marshall Lee had his fair share of relationships over the course of his immortal life, but none had ever enamored him the way you do. None had ever made him want to come home so desperately, even if you were the one who gave him all the freedom he wanted to go off on adventures while waiting patiently for him. His once cold, unbeating heart felt the warmest, the liveliest as long as he was with you.

“Forever’s a long time, ‘ya know? But I’ll be more than happy to let you feel why being MY good little girl is worth it~”

[the-himawari]

A3! Miyoshi Kazunari - Translation [SSR] MANKAI Treasure (1/3)

*Please read disclaimer on blog; default name set as Izumi

---

Izumi: (Hmm… where could Kazunari-kun be?)

Muku: Wow, they’re adorable…!

Kazunari: I know, right! They’re so cute I could eat them up!

Izumi: …Ah!

-pause-

Kazunari: Feast your eyes on this!

Yuki: Aw, this little guy really loves the ball. He’s totally chasing after it.

Taichi: This one’s taking a break and sleepin’ super soundly! Sooo cute!

Izumi: Here you are, Kazunari-kun. What’s everyone looking at?

Muku: Director-san! We’re watching a bunch of dog videos right now.

Kazunari: Whether they’re begging for treats or caught up in playing with their toys—all of them are super adorbs and lovely!

Izumi: So true. Animal videos are so healing. Watching them always makes you smile.

Kazunari: You get it! Ah, by the way, were you looking for me, Director-chan?

Izumi: Ah, that’s right! I was thinking it’s about time to start preparing for your birthday project…

Yuki: Oh yeah. The treasure hunt project, right? Our outfits for our bromides sparkle and shine like treasure, so we came up with the birthday treasure hunt project.

Muku: I see, so it’s Kazu-kun’s turn next.

Kazunari: My moment has arrived! I was super duper looking forward to my turn coming around.

Izumi: On your birthday, I’ll give you a note with a hint on it. Then you'll use that to search for the present and the person who prepared it for you.

Taichi: On the day of, the birthday boy’s gonna film themselves as they go around hunting for the treasure, right?

Kazunari: You got it! But it’s just for your own records and memories. I’m gonna have fun filming it just like a home video too.

Muku: Fufu. I can’t wait to watch your video, Kazu-kun.

Yuki: I bet it’s going to be a noisy treasure hunting video.

Kazunari: I wonder what kinda treasure awaits me~. I already can’t wait!

-pause-

Izumi: And now your long-awaited treasure hunt starts.

Kazunari: YAY! Treasure hunting sure gets your heart racing, doesn’t it~?

Izumi: (Fufu. Kazunari-kun sounds even more excited than usual. He looks over the moon.) Alright then, here’s the camera and your hint sheet.

Kazunari: Thanksies! I’ll open the hint right away! Ooh, what’s this? It says… “Chilled Ramen”. Could this be…!

Izumi: Did you get the hint?

Kazunari: I’m locked in! ‘Kay, I’ll be off!

Izumi: Great, take care! Have fun.

-pause-

Kazunari: And so~, following the hint, I came downtown ♪ If my guess is right, then that person should be in front of the store…

Tasuku: …

Kazunari: …Bingo~! Hold up. It doesn’t look like Tax noticed I’m here yet? Since the stars aligned, let’s pull a prank on him! I’ll secretly sneak up behind him~… Slooowly, slooowly… …TAX~!!

Tasuku: !? …*Sigh*. Couldn’t you have called out to me normally?

Kazunari: Ahaha. Sowwy, sowwy! But the fact you’re here means I hit the nail on the head!

Tasuku: Yeah, you got it.

Kazunari: How do I put it? The hint was so straightforward that it could only be Tax, y’know! Me and Tax together are kinda like this shop’s chilled ramen.

Tasuku: Well… is that how it is?

Kazunari: Ahaha. Tax is such an airhead sometimes! This sure takes me back though~. The first time we came to this restaurant was back when we first collab’ed with Dog Circus.

---

| next

[dancingtotuyo]

1. tame the ghosts in my head

Woman | Joel Miller X Reader

Series Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: Joel Miller finds an unexpected face upon his return to Jackson.

Tags: Joel Miller x Reader. Age Gap. TV show characters. Mostly Cannon compliant for show and game.

Chapter Warnings: references to canon type violence, injuries, swearing, medical exam, illusions to loss & grief.

Words: 2437

Series Masterlist | Author Masterlist | Playlist

Familiarity is a foreign thing in this world. A priceless gift from the universe if you’re deemed to be so worthy, it’s a treasure to be treated as so, but when one is lucky enough to be chosen, fear tarnishes it. Gifts only last so long before they are taken away, leaving only grief and loneliness in their wake, making you wonder if it was really a gift at all or just a cruel prank. Yet, it gets you everytime, roping you into its trap.

It might be 20 years since you’ve laid eyes on him, but that stance, those brown curls, you would recognize them anywhere You spent the younger years of your life committing him to memory. You feel the trap tugging you toward him. You can’t be caught up again. You tell yourself you won’t be.

“Joel!”

He turns around, dark brown eyes meeting yours. He doesn’t expect anyone else to know his name here. Why does it sound familiar to him?

It all escapes from the recess of your mind. That all-encompassing file titled “before,” flies open. Memories come flooding back of him and of Sarah. You’re only conscious of the first trap, but there are others lying in wait. You and Tommy talk about her sometimes, but this brings up so much more.

He looks confused at first. You watch him wrack his brain. He recognizes you, but from where? You’re not the kid he once knew. The fresh, doe-eyed look of a 20-something new graduate is replaced by the 40-something worn woman you’ve survived into. Finally, it dawns on him.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” He walks over to you, disbelief written across his features.

“Hi.” You smile.

“Hi.”

It’s an awkward thing. Do you hug? Shake hands? You were Sarah’s babysitter from the time she was 6 until she complained she didn’t need one once she turned 13. The two of you still hung out when you were back from school. Joel usually slipped you a $20. You would’ve done it for free, never expected the cash, but you were also a broke college student. You never turned it down.

The lure of a familiar face is strong. The two of you settle on a comfortable distance. Closer than strangers, further than family.

“Tommy told me you were here at Christmas. He’s been worried about you.”

Joel nods. “It’s been a long couple of months.”

“Just months?” Your brows shoot up.

Joel fights back a smile. He remembers the smartass remarks you used to give Tommy when he teased you while you waited for Joel to cough up the cash he owed.

Flashes of coming home to pillow forts and Sarah’s giggles, arts and crafts with glitter that littered the house for weeks afterwards, and the countless other memories play in his mind.The memories send a pang through his chest, but he can handle them now, and here is another person who holds those precious memories.

“Relatively speaking of course.” The smile breaks through on his face. It’s starting to feel less foreign to him these past few days.

Joel wasn’t the most smiley person when you knew him 20 years ago. It suits him, you think. Another lure. Another diversion you don’t catch because you are so aware of the trap you’re sure it set, you don’t see the other one hiding. You won’t let the universe give you another person just to take them away.

“Of course.” You return his smile.

“I’m supposed to get checked out at the clinic. I think they gave me bad directions. Either that or my memory is shit.”

“I was just headed there. You can follow me.” Nod your head in the general direction.

“You’re a nurse.” He seems slightly unsure.

“Memory can’t be all that shitty, I guess.” You shrug. “If you call 3 months in the trauma unit being a nurse that is.”

“You got the education. I remember that.”

The keys jingle in your hand as you unlock the doors. The lights buzz to life with a flip of a switch. The slim medical supplies you have are neatly organized on shelves. It’s enough to care for basic needs. Scout teams sometimes bring back supplies from other places when they go on longer expeditions. All medications are safely locked away. You have the only key. You count the meds on a weekly basis with Maria and go over your meticulous logs. There’s a board-certified doctor in town. He practiced family medicine before the outbreak. He’s good with routine stuff but didn’t want a key. Too much pressure he claims.

You deal with the big stuff. Gaping wounds, infections, whatever it was that resembled surgery in this world. You play doctor, nurse, surgeon, and midwife. It falls on your shoulders and what you can remember from school. There are a few medical journals and textbooks on your shelves. Dr. Pooley has taught you a lot, but his knowledge is more outdated, more about family medicine. More often than not, you fail. People remind you; you do the best you can, you’re not trained for this, supplies are limited. Sometimes it helps, sometimes it doesn’t.

“You can take a seat.” You nod toward the medical table.

Joel nods, hopping up. “Did Ellie stop in last night? She said she would.”

“Yeah she did.” You wash your hands with soap. “Seems like a good kid. She’s got quite a mouth.”

Joel chuckles. “She seem okay?”

“For someone with two bites on her arm, yeah.”

He looks up, his eyes a mix of fear and concern and then it goes away. “Tommy told you?”

“Yeah… wanted to make sure I was the one who checked her out.”

“He tell anyone else?”

“Probably Maria.” You shrug and watch the uneasiness leave him. “I won’t tell anyone, Joel. It’ll either get people's hopes up or cause a witch hunt. Besides, doctor patient confidentiality and all that.”

He looks relieved. “Thanks.”

You nod. “Now, take your shirt off.”

He raises an eyebrow. You roll your eyes.

“I swear if you give me some snarky comment, I will stab you with a scalpel.”

He cringes feeling fantom pain in his scarred abdomen. “Noted.”

“You okay?” You catch the twinge on his face, stare at the gash on his neck.

“Yeah… it’s just…” He sighs, slowly unbuttoning his shirt.

For a moment, you are 22 years old again and sense of medical professionalism ceases to exist. It’s embarrassing really, the crush you had on him. Though, it’s just as embarrassing that it’s still affecting you. 20 years ago, you thought the world was more likely to end than anything remotely close to this happening. It seems Ironic now.

The nurse in you returns before his shirt slides off his shoulders. Your eyes go wide as you spot the big, angry scar on Joel’s abdomen. “What happened?”

Your fingers press around the scar, inspecting it. It’s cruel and jagged, still pink, but healed. It’s several months old and there’s no signs of infection.

“Your fingers are cold.”

You roll your eyes. “What happened?”

“We came across some raiders. I took them out, but not before one of ‘em got me with his broken bat.”

“Fuck, Joel.” You press a little firmer, searching for any signs of sensitivity or irritation.

It hits him that he’s never heard you curse. He bites back the tilt of his lips. He doesn’t think you would appreciate it. He never teased you like Tommy did. He was more of a quiet observer before the outbreak. He still considers himself so, but there’s an urge to tease you now. Maybe he wants to steal a slice of pre-outbreak life back.

“Does this hurt at all?” You continue to press all around, this time looking in his eyes. You’re firmly in his personal space now.

He never got to look at your eyes this closely before. They’re beautiful. He reads so much swirling in them. He still sees bits of the 22 year old he knew, freshly graduated and eager to help a world so close to damnation. He sees the shadows floating around, the trauma of living in this world. He sees it in others all the time. He sees it in himself everytime he looks in the mirror, but he wants to know what caused the darkness in yours.

He catches the fine lines that have started to age your face, and a few silver hairs beginning to weave through your natural hair color. He thinks they suit you.

“Joel.” Your voice is firm, shaking him out of his thoughts. “Any pain? Discomfort?”

He shakes his head. You let out a low whistle. “You’re one lucky bastard. It’s a bang up job on the stitches, but it did its job.”

“It got infected. Ellie managed to get her hands on some penicillin.”

His eyes darken. There’s more to the story, but you know better than to ask. One doesn't just “manage” to get their hands on penicillin, especially out here.

Your eyes scan his abdomen, but it is purely medical this time. Joel has several old scars covering his back and abdomen consistent with what you expect. The gash on his neck has already scabbed over, a couple of days old. You do your best to clean it without opening it back up.

You bring your stethoscope to his heart. It thuds in your ears. He breathes in at your instructions: long and steady in, long and steady out. His breath tingles in your ear. Your eyes scan up his neck and face. You think he might be just as handsome now as he was 20 years ago. He meets your eyes and you snap back to the tasks at hand. Heat rises over the back of your neck. You pull away before it reaches your cheeks.

Joel keeps quiet the whole time. His eyes track your every movement; a hazard of living in this world. It’s a hazard you learned to drop when within the walls of the settlement, though it took you years to do so.

His blood pressure is a little high, nothing too concerning or surprising. It’s not like you have medication to help. “How old are you?”

Your eyes meet again. “56.”

You wrack your brain. You helped Sarah with his birthday on numerous occasions. “September 26, right?”

“You remember?”

“I believe I helped put on several of your birthday parties.” You crack a smile, writing it down on the form. You have one for each member of the settlement in case of emergencies. “Shit… that’s-”

“Yeah, I know.” Joel crosses his arms. He hasn’t put his shirt back on yet. His biceps bulge, drawing your eye toward them. It hits you; maybe adult you also has a crush on Joel Miller. You shove that thought to the side. You’re avoiding that trap too.

Joel catches your eye. You swallow, hoping he didn’t catch you staring. “You can put your shirt back on.”

He nods. You don’t watch as he buttons it up. You study the file in front of you like it’s the next great American novel. “Do you know your blood type?”

“O negative.”

“You absolutely sure?”

“You calling me a liar?”

“No, but I’d hate to tap you on the shoulder asking for you to transfuse blood and the person drops dead because you had O positive or some other type.”

“I’m sure.”

You nod, marking it the chart. Joel’s shirt is back on. You can’t decide if you’re relieved or not, but something else catches your eye as he struggles with the last button.

“Hold out your hands.”

His eyes roll but obeys. You visually inspect them. Nothing seems wrong at sight.

“Now make a fist.”

He does, internally cursing when his right hand shakes and shutters. It still doesn’t close all the way. Taking all those fireflies out the day before doesn’t help matters. He eyes you, but you’re completely focused on his hands.

You place your index and middle fingers in his palms. “Now squeeze.”

You feel the fight in his right hand. Its grip is loose compared to the left.

“I broke it back in September.”

“How?” You take his hand. It’s warm and calloused. You ignore that part away as you feel through the bones and tendons searching for misplaced bones or built up scar tissue.

“Took out a Fedra guard leaving Boston QZ.”

“Define took out.” Your inspection continues.

Joel shifts looking away from you. It gives you a good look at his profile. Your eyes flicker up the muscles of his neck, his strong jaw and the scruff that covers it. You catch sight of a faded scar on his temple. He didn’t have that 20 years ago… you kick yourself for remembering that.

“It was just a hairline. Healed up fine on its own.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Obviously.”

Joel refuses to meet your eye. He doesn’t answer your question. Your annoyance grows.

“I’ll give you some options. Stunned? Mamed? Knocked unconscious?”

“Look, I'm not the person I used to be.”

You straighten up. “Nobody is, Joel. We’re literally in hell.” You push back images of your own actions- and inactions. “Now tell me so I can make a rough estimate on the force you used.”

Joel sighs. He remembers the cracking of bones. The way the guard went limp. It doesn’t haunt him. He would do it again to protect people, so why is he so hesitant? Is it that he associates you with Sarah?

He swallows. “Killed.”

He waits for you to kick him out, for a look of disgust to cover your face, but it never happens. You simply keep going with the exam. “Okay.”

You hit a sensitive nerve in his hand. He hisses. “I think it was more than a hairline… but it seems to have healed okay all things considering.”

Joel nods.

“I’m going to rig something up to help you strengthen the hand. It probably won’t help the nerve though.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I will. I’ll drop it off at your house this evening.” You make note of a few things on a clipboard. “Otherwise, I’m giving you a clean bill of health.”

“So I’m free to go?”

“Free to go.” You nod.

He’s almost out the door when you turn around. “And Joel…” He stops, meeting your eye for the first time since his confession. “We’ve all had to kill people, do ugly things for the sake of survival. Don’t think you’re the only one.”

He wants to ask further questions, but you turn your back to him and it dies on his tongue.