#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:

[ikkyfics]

Hello author, can i request a part two dor divination? Maybe the vision finally came true and its all just fluffy? Thank youu

Realization

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: “Remember the Divination classes?” James asked suddenly, his voice light, almost as if talking to himself. “Yeah,” you murmured, feeling the memory bring an unexpected warmth to your chest. “She really got that one right.”

Warnings: just fluffy - after Hogwarts(married with children), a very cute little Harry

A/N: hey honey, I hope you like it

Divination - Masterlist

The night in Godric’s Hollow was calm, the silence only broken by the soft crackling of the fireplace and the slow ticking of the clock on the wall. The golden light from the flames cast delicate shadows on the walls and filled the living room with a warm, cozy glow. It was one of those rare and perfect moments where time seemed to slow down, as if the world outside didn’t even exist.

Harry was on the floor, on the plush rug that covered most of the room, surrounded by colorful magical blocks he was trying to stack. He furrowed his brow, his little face serious as his tongue slightly poked out the side of his mouth. The newly built tower collapsed once more, and he let out an annoyed grunt before suddenly getting up.

James was sprawled on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table, watching his son with eyes full of amusement. You were sitting on the floor with Dahlia standing between your hands, propping her tiny arms on yours to keep her balance. She let out squeals of joy every time she managed to take a wobbly step or two before safely falling back onto the rug. Each of her attempts was met with laughter, claps, and kisses on the top of her little head.

“Again, little one, come on,” you encouraged softly, lifting her under her armpits and raising her into the air. Dahlia giggled in her tiny voice, her round cheeks flushed from the effort, her eyes sparkling with pure joy. She looked like a miniature version of you, the features so alike that even James had commented more than once how it threw him off a little.

At that moment, Harry, who was facing away from you, found James’s glasses abandoned on the coffee table. He picked them up carefully, turning them in his little hands as if they were a treasure. Without a second thought, he put them on, the large lenses slipping down his nose.

“Dad!” he called, stumbling over his words as he turned around with a big smile. “Look, now I’m you!”

James’s laughter echoed through the room, that loud and carefree laugh that brightened any place. He threw his head back, his hands covering his face for a moment before he stretched out his arms to Harry.

“Merlin, you look just like me!” James said, his voice full of affection. He scooped his son into his arms, messing up his already wild hair even more. “You just need to try flying on a broomstick and get into trouble, and I’ll have to retire because my legacy will be secured.”

Harry laughed, adjusting the glasses that kept slipping. “I’m going to fly better than you, dad,” he declared with all the confidence in the world, which only made James laugh more.

“Of course you will, Prongslet. That’s the spirit.”

On the other side of the room, you watched the scene with a smile so wide your cheeks ached. Dahlia, now in your lap, stretched her little hands toward her dad and brother, babbling something that sounded like a demand for attention. James looked at her and froze for a second, his smile softening as he watched the little one in your arms.

He stayed silent for too long, his gaze almost absorbed as he studied Dahlia’s face, so identical to his. You noticed the moment and furrowed your brow slightly, your voice soft as you asked,

“What’s wrong? Why the silly look?”

James turned his gaze to you, that silly grin still shining on his lips, and then looked back at his daughter, as if he were trying to memorize every detail of her.

“It’s you,” he murmured, his voice so low that it barely reached your ears. “Smaller, cuter, but… it’s you.”

Your heart warmed, melting like butter under the sun. The look of adoration he gave his daughter was the same he reserved for you, and that always affected you in an inexplicable way.

“Careful, James,” you teased, your voice sweet. “She might end up wanting to fly better than you too.”

James chuckled softly, letting Harry slide off his lap as he stood up and walked over to you. He crouched down beside you, his arms extending around both of you.

For a moment, you stayed like that: Dahlia in your lap, Harry playing again with the blocks, and James too close, his presence as comforting as a warm blanket.

“Remember the Divination classes?” he asked suddenly, his voice light, almost as if talking to himself.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Those classes? James, that was years ago.”

He laughed, resting his head on your shoulder while still looking at their daughter, now yawning and rubbing her eyes. “I know. But… I remember her talking about a boy with glasses. Just like his dad.”

His gaze softened as you also looked at Harry, who was now grumbling softly because another block tower had fallen. A boy with his father’s messy hair and huge glasses. It was truly remarkable.

“Yeah,” you murmured, feeling the memory bring an unexpected warmth to your chest. “She really got that one right.”

James turned his face to look at you, his expression so tenderly affectionate that it felt like your heart might leap out of your chest.

“And I also remember saying that I would prefer… a girl,” he continued, his eyes shining softly. “Someone who looked like you.”

The mention caught you off guard, an unexpected wave of emotion rising within you. Your smile was automatic, even though a stubborn tear threatened to fall.

“And here we are,” James murmured, kissing the top of Dahlia’s head as she finally fell asleep in his arms. “Who would’ve thought, huh? It seems like the future really was written. We just took our time seeing it.”

You smiled, one of those smiles that starts slow, spreading across your whole face, as you watched Dahlia’s little closed eyes. His words brought a warm feeling to your chest, mixed with old memories that seemed to come from another life.

“We really did,” you replied, resting your head on James’ shoulder, feeling his familiar warmth. “If it depended on you, we’d have been together since first year.”

James chuckled softly, looking at you with that mischievous glint in his blue eyes.

“I wasn’t wrong, let’s be honest,” he said, with a voice as if declaring a universal truth. “I spent six years trying to prove I was irresistible, but no… you preferred to ignore me. Ignore me, can you believe that?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, amused. “I’d call it common sense.”

James put on a mock expression of outrage, placing his free hand on his chest as though he’d been struck with an arrow. “Common sense? And when did you decide to lose that?”

“Sometime around sixth year,” you replied, trying not to laugh. “When you became less… unbearable.”

“Unbearable?” He blinked a few times, indignant. “Come on, love, you make it sound like I was the worst of the Marauders. Everyone knows Sirius was the problem.”

“Oh, of course,” you agreed, the tone ironic but playful. “Because Sirius, who by the way is the godfather who spoils the godson the most, didn’t learn from you how to be impossible.”

James laughed, shaking his head. “Sirius didn’t learn anything from me. He was born that way.”

You laughed louder but quickly put your hand over your mouth when Dahlia stirred in your lap. James looked down at her lovingly and kissed her forehead again, murmuring a “shhh, it’s all right.”

At that moment, Harry appeared in the room, rubbing his eyes with the cuff of his sweater. His hair was even more tousled than usual, and his oversized glasses— which he had taken earlier— were almost falling off his nose.

“Are you talking about Uncle Sirius again?” he asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

James let out a contained laugh and reached out his free arm to pull Harry in. The boy easily settled onto his lap, snuggling between you and James.

“Of course. We always talk about Uncle Sirius, especially when he’s not around to defend himself,” James replied, smiling at Harry. “It’s the price he pays for being the most impossible of uncles.”

Harry chuckled, his eyes almost closing again with sleep. You ran your fingers softly through his hair, feeling how warm and comfortable he was.

“But he brought chocolate yesterday,” Harry mumbled, his voice muffled against James’ chest.

“And ruined your dinner,” you said, rolling your eyes with a light smile. “Not even Remus can control Sirius when he decides to spoil you two.”

James nodded, amused. “That’s because Remus is a saint. I never understood how he puts up with Sirius even now.”

Harry lifted his head again, his little face scrunched up in curiosity. “But Uncle Remus likes Uncle Sirius.”

“He likes him a lot,” James confirmed, kissing Harry’s forehead, enveloping him in a warm embrace with both arms. “Uncle Remus and Uncle Sirius were made for each other, just like your mother and I.”

Harry smiled at you, his little eyes almost closing. “So you’re the same?”

You exchanged a quick glance with James, feeling the warmth spread across your face. He gave you a sweet smile, though full of playful provocation.

“Yes, Harry. But don’t forget to tell your mum I’m more charming than Uncle Sirius, okay?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a laugh. “More charming? James, what else do you want him to say? That you’re irresistible?”

James smiled openly, turning his gaze back to you. “I’d love to hear that again.”

Harry let out a little laugh, though he was already almost asleep again. You shook your head, amused, before looking at James more softly.

“All right,” you murmured, surprising him. “You’re irresistible, James Potter.”

James’ eyes widened as if he couldn’t believe it, before breaking into a slow, passionate smile. “Did you hear that, Harry? Irresistible. Next time Uncle Sirius says something, you defend me, okay?”

“Okay, Dad,” Harry whispered, with a sleepy smile before finally closing his eyes.

The silence returned to the room, warmed by the sound of the fire crackling in the hearth and the slow breaths of Harry and Dahlia. You rested your head again on James’ shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent and the peace of the moment.

James, for his part, turned his face softly and placed a lingering kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you,” he murmured softly, almost like a secret.

You furrowed your brow slightly, your heart beating faster. “For what?”

He smiled against your hair, as though savoring the answer. “For everything. For this. For choosing us. For being… you.”

You closed your eyes, squeezing his hand tightly. “I’d choose you a thousand times.”

James smiled, that special sparkle in his eyes.

“I am irresistible, after all,” he whispered, teasing.

You laughed softly to avoid waking the children. “And unbearable,” you added, looking at him fondly.

James pulled you both closer, smiling ear to ear. “I’ll take both. As long as it comes from you.”

And there, in the warmth of the fire and in each other’s arms, you stayed. A perfect picture of everything you’d ever imagined— a life full of love, laughter, and little miracles that even the best of seers couldn’t have predicted.

[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.

[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.

[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. 

[fanficsbysteve]

Jeremy Crow

Note: When I write my BuckTommy stuff, I always draw on my own personal experiences when writing stuff for Tommy. He’s a 40 year old gay man, I’m a 40 year old gay man. His Dad was abusive as shit growing up. My Dad was abusive as shit growing up. So, I feel we could have some very similar stuff happen in our lives. So, I had this thought and figured that in my head this was true. So, enjoy another of my silly little headcanons.

Also available on AO3 if you want to leave Kudos.

***

Tommy took Evan up to his bedroom to get ready for bed, and some other things beforehand but Tommy was not going to push for that. It had been two weeks since they had spoken and realized they were both idiots and decided to try again, just not going at light speed that Evan had been going at. Tommy was going to talk about how things made him feel and wasn’t just ‘trying to keep up’ with Evan’s pace. They were also going to go at Tommy’s pace as well.

     Going into the room, Tommy looked at the bed and spotted something sitting in the middle of the bed. Tommy froze. Oh god he had forgotten to put that away. Evan went past Tommy into the room and his eyes also fell onto the bed, “Oh what’s that?” he asked, looking at the bed as well.

     Sitting in the middle of the pillows was a stuffed crow. It looked like it had seen better days, its better days being three decades ago. The black fuzz that had been its torso had all but worn away, the paint on its eyes had been rubbed off and was just the white of the eyes now. The only part that seemed to have withstood the test of time was the beak of the crow, “Um…” Tommy started, “That would be Jeremy. Jeremy Crow.”

 Tommy looked at the crow sitting on his bed, named after a character from a movie he had watched as a child. He had gotten it when he was around five years old and had been sleeping with him every night since. There was something comforting about having Jeremy with him. He slept better. Tommy sometimes thought that Jeremy kept the bad dreams away. He never had them when he had Jeremy in his arms. He had been trying to hide Jeremy away, not wanting Evan to see him because he was scared of what Evan would think about him. A grown man still sleeping with a stuffed animal from his childhood.

     Evan did something that shocked Tommy. Something he hadn’t expected. Evan walked over to the bed, got in, motioned for Tommy to join him, and handed Jeremy over to Tommy, “So tell me about Jeremy,” Evan asked as he lie down.

     Tommy took Jeremy and held him close, feeling the comfort that Jeremy brought to him, “I’ve had him for years,” Tommy started, “My Mom had seen him at a Garage sale and bought him for me. We didn’t have a lot of money growing up so things like this were rare. My mom did enjoy going to garage sales though. She could always find the most interesting treasures at those,” Tommy went to lay down fully in bed, “She passed away about a year after she gave me Jeremy. It’s the only thing I have left that reminds me of her.”

     Evan pulled Tommy into a cuddle. Wrapping his arms around the both of them, “I’m sorry that happened,” Evan said. Tommy had told him about how his mother had died when he was about 6 years old, and how his home life had gone downhill after that as his father had become an alcoholic, “I’m glad you still have something that reminds you of her.”

     Tommy let Evan hold him, feeling his warmth, Jeremy tucked in close to his chest, “I might not have it for long anyways,” Tommy said, “You saw what he looked like. He’s seen better days. I think his best days were back when I was a child. Soon he’s just going to fall apart like most things in my life and I’ll lose the last shred of my Mom.”

     Tommy felt tears welling up, but he refused to let them fall. He would not cry over this. He would remain strong, “You won’t lose the last shred of your Mom though,” Evan gave Tommy a squeeze, “She lives inside you. And you will always have her memory. Jeremy is a reminder of those memories but he’s just a thing.”

     “I know,” Tommy said, “Doesn’t make it less painful that I’ll lose him. Did you know that he’s the reason I don’t have nightmares all the time?”

     “You believe that your stuffed crow stops nightmares?” Evan sounded, “But my belief that I was cursed by a dead cowboy was silly?”

     “Oh, leave me alone,” Tommy playfully elbowed Evan, “I have my own beliefs just like you. I don’t believe in curses, but I’ve never had a nightmare so long as I have Jeremy with me. You’ve experienced my nightmares.”

     Tommy remembered when he was staying over at Evan’s place a few months ago. He felt he had his nightmares under control. He was very wrong. He had been having a flashback to his time in Iraq, he had joined the military and was working as a helicopter pilot, one of those big troop carrier types. They were flying over the desert when out of nowhere, someone fired a missile at them. Tommy saw it coming but not in time and the back of the chopper had been hit. He did everything he could to get them down safely, but they ended up crashing no matter what Tommy did. Six men died on impact. They were nowhere near a city or town. It took them 3 days to find their way back. Tommy had woken up screaming that night. Evan was freaking out about what was happening. He had no idea the PTSD that Tommy was suppressing every day, “I know,” Evan replied, continuing to hold him.

     “Lets just get some sleep,” Tommy said. He was exhausted from having to remember so many things he’s been trying so hard to keep down.

***

     Tommy was at Evan’s loft, laying in bed, waiting for Evan to finish up in the bathroom. He was ready for bed, laying in just his boxers, nothing else on. He preferred to sleep like this when at Evan’s loft. Evan kept the temperature up higher than Tommy did at his house, so it was always far too warm for him in the loft. Hot air rising and all that. Evan came out of the bathroom, dressed only in his underwear as well, and crawled into bed, “I got you something,” Evan said as he leaned over the bed to grab something from the side. Tommy was confused, “Since you don’t have Jeremy Crow while over here, I wanted you to have something to hold, maybe to keep the dreams at bay,” Evan pulled up a penguin, the size of Jeremy.

     Tommy reached out to take it from Evan. He had tears in his eyes. This was the first time someone had actually not mocked him for having Jeremy. The fact that Evan had taken the time to go out, find this penguin, just for Tommy to sleep with so he didn’t wake up screaming, which meant something to Tommy, “Evan,” was all he could manage to get out as his throat constricted as he wanted to cry.

     “He doesn’t have a name yet,” Evan replied, “I figured that you would want to name him yourself. I don’t know any good penguin movies besides Happy Feet. So, I will leave naming him to you,” Evan continued, “And if he works, would you allow me to take Jeremy to someone I found? After you showed me Jeremy, I started falling down a research hole.”

     Tommy was just staring at the penguin while Evan spoke, barely hearing what he was saying. Tommy at this moment knew that Evan was the one. The one to spend the rest of his life with. He just didn’t know how to broach the subject now. They had only been back together for three weeks, “Sorry what?”

     “I was asking if I could take Jeremy to a repair shop I found online,” Evan repeated. Tommy leaned into Evan, just staring at this new penguin, “He’s got a great online presence, lots of five star reviews on Google. I figured we could make Jeremy last awhile longer if we took him in for some repairs.”

     Tommy nodded his head absently at that, “Sounds good,” He said.

     “You seem a little out of it,” Evan asked, “Something wrong?”

     “Not really,” Tommy replied, “I’ve never had someone care about me so much. Usually, it was open mockery if anyone actually saw Jeremy. You are the first person who actually cared about me enough to not only not mock me about my crow that I sleep with, but you went out of your way to get something so that I could sleep well at your place as well.”

     “Well, you are important to me,” Evan said, “I wouldn’t have blurted out about moving in together all those months ago if I didn’t mean it. I want you to feel like you are at home here as well until the day we do decide to take the next steps.”

     Now it was Tommy’s turn to blurt things out. He shouldn’t have but he couldn’t help himself. He felt so complete now with Evan, knowing about his nightmares, how to help with them, “I love you,” Tommy said turning his head to face Evan, “I love you more than anything in this world. You are the first person who has ever taken the time to understand me. I want you to be my last.”

     Tommy watched as Evan was taken aback by his statement for a brief second, “I didn’t expect that,” a smile broke out over Evan’s face, “I love you too you fool. I figured that out months ago when I asked you to move in.”

     “We both agreed we were idiots,” Tommy said as he brought the penguin in for a tight hug. He felt similar to Jeremy, but softer, “But yes you can take Jeremy in for repairs, but only because I have Hubie here.”

     “Hubie?” Evan asked about the name.

     Tommy smiled, “Yes Hubie. I’m a child of the 80’s and 90’s. I watched a lot of Don Bluth movies. There was one about penguins and the main character is named Hubie. So, it fits.”

     “You’ll have to show me the movies that you get your names from one of these days,” Evan said, “But now lets get some sleep. It’s been a long day.”

     Tommy turned on his side, letting Evan take the Big Spoon position, holding Hubie close. A content sigh left his body as he felt this soft penguin in his arms, and Evan’s arms pulling him close. This was the perfect ending to a wonderful day.

***

Note: So yeah, I admit that I still have stuffed animals. I have the stuffed Mickey Mouse I had since I as a child still in my bedroom. I also have a stuffed Penguin I sleep with named Mr. Pickles. Just something I need to sleep. If I don’t have one of them, I can’t sleep well. And yes, I am actually a 40 year old man who sleeps with a stuffed penguin. Hate all you want but you won’t change me. For the record, Jeremy Crow came from The Secret of NIMH, and Hubie the Penguin is from The Pebble and the Penguin. Both Don Bluth movies.

[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.

[selfindulgenceisthekey]

𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚞 𝙼𝚎𝚛𝚞 𝚗𝚘 𝙼𝚒: 𝙸𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜

𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

A/N: I have never written for One Piece before. In all honesty, I just started watching the anime. I’ve watched the live action, and I loved it, and I have read a lot of fanfic. Then my brain made this. So here we go.

“We have guests.”

It wasn’t a sentence you were unused to hearing, but normally you were given more time to prepare. You nodded, remaining quiet as Kurozawa stared silently for a beat, before stepping out of your room. One of your handmaids came in after he left, carrying whatever garment he wished you to dress yourself in tonight.

It was golden, as it always was. Thin straps on your shoulders, tight fitting and long, a slit along your leg. You’d look like treasure— his treasure.

You heard a little hum as the maid left, Eimi’s golden eyes, bright and wide, staring up at you questioningly. You smiled at her, running a hand through her hair, playfully poking the tip of her nose.

“Will you be okay by yourself for tonight?”

She shrugged, and that was enough confirmation. She had her papers and pencils, the one raggedy bunny you had managed to convince Kurozawa to buy her. If you played your cards right you’d even be able to bring her back some dinner.

Though, neither of you got your hopes up for that. You changed quickly, the typical routine engrained in your memory. Golden dress, golden jewelry, hair out of your face, minimal makeup, his brand on your bicep always uncovered.

Eimi tapped your hand, pulling your attention to her. She studied your face for a moment, before smiling, signing pretty in her own little language.

“Thank you, my dear,” You leaned down, kissing the crown of her head.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” You headed towards the door, trying to keep a brave face as you turned to her, “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

She huffed, but nodded. She never argued with your directions, brushing her teeth twice a day, bathing without complaint, never staying up too late.

The guards outside said nothing as you stepped out, locking the door behind you, and leading you down the halls. They were covered with art, paintings of the Kurozawa family, pottery far too expensive to look as cheap as it did.

You wondered who the guests this evening would be.

Marines? No, he would have made you dress just a bit more decent.

It wasn’t a fellow warlord, there would have been more gossip whispered through the halls.

You knew better than to ask the guards, the pair taking their place in the dininghall as you entered. You were momentarily surprised to see the guests were already seated, plates full of food before them.

Kurozawa was seated at his usual space, the head of the table, your seat to his left open, the plate, as usual, empty.

“There she is,” He grinned, and years of being accustom to him were the only thing keeping you from recoiling in disgust.

You kept your face stoic, head lowered as you took your seat. He continued to the guests.

“My song bird, ladies and gentlemen,” He introduced you to the group, and you could feel their curious gazes upon you.

Your eyes remained forward, the air of elegance as you sat, back straight.

“She doesn’t look like a bird.”

The sentence had you blinking, fighting the urge to look at whoever said that. Kurozawa snorted, amused yet annoyed at the stupidity.

“It’s merely a pet-name, strawhat.”

Wait.

Strawhat?

You glanced over, heart stuttering in your chest as you made eye contact with one Monkey D. Luffy. He was eating, looking back at you rather curiously. What—

What were the strawhat pirates doing here?

Kurozawa continued to speak, and you broke the staring contest that was going on between you and the pirate captain.

“Now, I am very grateful that you all have chosen to come visit. To be quite frank, your reputation exceeds you all. A powerful crew such as yourself.”

Ah, okay. That makes sense. He wanted to work with them; which meant he wants them to work for him. He’d hired pirate crews before, having them do his bidding. Pillaging and stealing, being the ones to be in trouble with the marines while he sat back and watched his gold pile up.

“With that being said; I’d like to make a deal with you.”

You watched with morbid curiosity, and mild disgust, as the strawhat captain continued to pile food on his plate. His stomach seemed like a never ending pit.

“What’s that?” Crumbs littered his mouth, and you had to fight the physical recoil.

His other members didn’t, the red headed woman, cat burglar Nami, you believe, wrinkled her nose at him, watching as crumbs littered the table before him. She looked like she was seconds away from scolding him. The blonde man, black-leg Sanji, shared an equally annoyed looked. They seemed to have manners, refraining from scolding the man for the mess he’s been making.

“I wish to hire you all, create a contract between the strawhats and the Kurozawa-family. For the foreseeable future.”

He sat back in his seat, cocky and confident as he always was, “Money is no issue, truly. You name your price, and I’ll set you up with weapons, men, and maps, so long as you do as I request of you.”

There was silence, the pirate crew all looking between each other, silent conversations being bad.

“Hey— is there any more of this stuff?” The captain waved around one of the bones from the lamb legs.

You saw the way Kurozawa’s eye twitched, his question being ignored entirely. He cleared his throat, clearly fighting to keep his temper in check.

“Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and a few servants hurried forward, more plates of food being placed on the table, taking away empty trays.

At the rate he ate there would be no leftovers to bring Eimi. That thought alone was the most disappointing part of this evening so far.

“Are you not going to serve your lady?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Kurozawa’s attention turned to black-leg, eyes narrowing at the question thrown his way. The blonde man’s head tilted your way, “Your songbird, her plates still rather empty.”

The gazes of the crew turned to you, and the rapt attention made your face heat up. Kurozawa laughed, a forced sound.

“She eats in the comfort of her own suite, she prefers her privacy. Now, back to my offer—”

The blonde man stood from his seat, the chair scrapping against the floor. He walked behind the others, who shook their heads, moving close to you. Your plate was soon filled with different items: meat and veggies, sauteed potatoes and toasted bread. The scent alone had your mouth watering.

“A lady should always be served first, especially one as beautiful as you,” His words were directed towards you, and you for once, found yourself silent, because you were unable to response.

Kurozawa slammed his fist against the table, cutlery rattling, and you jumped in your seat, tearing your gaze away from the pirate.

“Now,” He was seething, black-leg returning to his seat, “My offer. I—”

“Nah.”

The silence following the response nearly had you choking on your spit. Kurozawa was frozen where he sat. “Nah?”

Luffy shrugged, “Nami told me what you do. I don’t wanna work for you. Plus, helping you isn’t gonna help any of us get to the grand-line.”

You could see the vein popping out of Kurozawa’s neck. He wasn’t used to being told no, not so bluntly of course. Face red, he sat back in his seat, trying to force an aura of nonchalance.

“I can offer you a new ship, something better. Far faster.”

“No. I like my ship. She’ll get us where we need to go.”

He huffed, gaze turning towards you, anger and demand clear in his gaze. You held your sigh in, glancing down to your plate. You turned towards him, trying to will that feeling back into your chest.

“You won’t consider helping Sir Kurozawa?”

Luffy looked towards you, as did the others. This was the first time you’d spoken, or even looked up really, since entering the room.

“If he really needed help then sure, but he doesn’t. The only reason we came was ‘cause the invite said there’d be dinner!”

You could feel Kurozawa’s heated gaze on you. It didn’t work. That was fine, you could do it, you had to.

You tried again, “You should consider helping him, it’s rather important to him.”

“Look lady,” The swordsman spoke, voice gruff and startling, “You already have our answer.”

You could feel the panic growing in your chest, but you clamped it down. Panicking wouldn’t get you anywhere.

“You should consider helping him.”

You could see the words take effect, pausing his motions, eyes glazing over as your powers worked— finally. Kurozawa hummed, a pleased sound from the back of his throat.

“Alright,” You heard the unsheathing of swords as his crew reacted.

Oh no— you were so focused on ensuring you got to the captain your focus ignored the others. Guards in the area all stood at attention, swords and guns drawn.

“Now now,” Kurozawa spoke up, and you sat back on your seat, trying to curl into yourself as best as you could, “Let’s not act too hasty.”

Luffy’s eyes were clear now, staring at you with curiosity.

“That was so cool— how did you do that?”

“Luffy!”

“I—” You clamped your mouth shut, so fast your teeth clacked painfully.

You heard your name be called— barked almost. An order. You knew what that meant.

You stood, the same guards as earlier moving to your side to escort you back to your room. The full plate of food remained on the table, untouched. You were taken quickly back to your room, hearing voices back in the dining hall as you left.

“Hey wait— how’d you do that?”

“Luffy we have bigger problems than that!”

“Strawhat, you’d do well to not continue to deny my offer.”

You did your best to block out the noise as you got back to your room, the door unlocked and you stumbled in. Eimi was curled up on the bed, not asleep, and looked over at you curiously.

You were back far earlier than you normally were.

You smiled at her, “I wanted to make sure I got back before you fell asleep,” You hated that these little white lies came to you so easily when speaking to her.

She pouted, not entirely believing you, but she sat up, watching as you changed into one of the few sets of pajamas you owned. You slipped into the bed, her small frame hurrying to curl up in your arms. You hummed, a low tune, a simple lullaby you had made up for her.

She huffed, leaning back to look at you. You okay?

“I’m fine, Kurozawa wanted to talk business with his guests. Boring stuff.”

She narrowed her eyes at you, and you pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead, distracting her. “Shush now, it’s time to sleep, okay?”

Despite your hope that she’d nod off, she stayed wide awake, as did you. It was hard to sleep, with all you could hear. Even muffled, you could hear that fight that had started.

There was yelling, orders being barked from Kurozawa, no doubt throwing his men forward to hide from the fight himself. You could hear guns going off, the sound of swords clashing against each other. You wanted to scream into one of your pillows— but you knew you had to remain calm for Eimi.

God, you knew how greedy Kurozawa was, how horrible of a person he could be. But to go and make enemies of the Strawhats? What was his next goal— challenge Dracula “Hawk Eye” Mihawk himself? Sure, Kurozawa collected swords, beautiful and strong, but the man had never even held one.

Where he may lack in strength and brains he made up for in numbers. The amount of people under his thumb; indebted, paid, bought, rivaled almost any group you had heard of.

You felt the hairs on your arms stiffen, and though you weren’t sure for what, you sat up, hurrying to pull Eimi into your arms. She made a panicked noise, no doubt eyes wide as she stared up at you, but your attention was on the bedroom door.

The fighting sound was quieter but still there, but that wasn’t what caught your attention.

The guards outside were moving, calling out commands. Loud, metallic sounds echoed in the hall before there was silence. The door handle jiggled, and you moved quickly.

There weren’t any windows, Kurozawa was worried you’d try and escape anyway you could, just as there were no items you could use as a weapon.

Not without proper planning, at least.

You deposited Eimi in a corner, her little arms reaching for you broke your heart but you pulled away, quietly telling her to stay put. You opened a dresser drawer, frantically sorting through the stupid items before you found what you needed. It was small, and in a real fight would provide nothing for you. But in a moment of panic or surprise it could at least buy you time. A piece of sharpened, broken pottery, tied tightly to the end of a makeup brush.

Both items you had scored through “clumsy acts”, and both had resulted in punishment, but they at the very least gave you chance to form your own, mini scalpel type weapon.

The moment your fingers wrapped around it, the door flew open. Quite literally. Annoyed or frustrated with the lock, the person took to breaking it off the hinges, and you reared back, eyes wide as it fell to the floor.

Through the debris you saw him step in, hat still in place. Monkey D. Luffy walked in, eyeing the room curiously, before his gaze turned to you.

You were trembling, you could see it, less feel it, holding the sharp end of your weapon out towards him. You had moved so Eimi was behind you.

“Hello!” He sounded so childishly cheerful, as if he didn’t just knock out the guards outside your room and break the door down, “I’m Monkey D. Luffy, I’m gonna become the king of the pirates. I never learned how you did that at dinner— it was so cool! Did you eat a devil fruit?”

Pt. 2

[featherandferns]

day 8/24 - obx christmas countdown

‘Tell me baby, do you recognise me? Well, it’s been a year, it doesn’t surprise me’ - Wham!, Last Christmas | angst | jj maybank x ex!kook!fem!reader

The country club was donned in green and gold. Every room had at least two Christmas trees, trimmed with golden tinsel and ruby red decor and designer baubles and ornaments. Garlands were wound around the staircases and intricate paper chains that looked as though angels themselves might have created them hung in every room around the window frames. It was dark outside and cold with December chills but the building shone like the northern star. JJ couldn’t care less though. The jazz covers of Christmas classics were nothing more than buzzing in his ear. The strong smell of champagne and cinnamon and dried orange and roasted chestnuts were nauseating. The whimsical, warm glow of the fairy lights only fuelled the fire in his heart. The fire that started to burn the moment he laid his eyes on you. 

You’re sitting at the dinner table dressed in an emerald green glittery dress. Your hair falls in perfect ringlets around your beautiful face, flawless from blemish. A face that haunts JJ’s dreams. A face that’s now nothing more than a phantom of his memories. The ruby red lips lift with an easy smile and you laugh melodically at something Kelce says. And then JJ watches as your hand sinks onto Topper’s like falling snow, softly enveloping his hand with yours, and JJ can almost feel the warmth of your palm on his skin. Remembers how it felt to have your fingers trace his face, sweeping over his cheeks like he was something expensive. Like he was something valuable to you. 

“Merry Christmas,” JJ smiles. 

You gasp angelically as he offers out a small box. It’s wrapped in blue and silver paper. There’s a wonky bow that’s fighting to stay stuck atop of the gift. It’s nothing impressive but JJ took his time whittling the ornament that you carefully retrieve. Your smile is one of awe as you take in the intricate design. He’s mesmerised by your eyes as they trace over the wooden angel; the Christmas tree lights reflect on your irises. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whisper. There’s something in the look that you lay onto JJ that has his heart stirring. He feels like a pre-teen having his first kiss all over again when you lean over to kiss him on his tattered old sofa. His hands go clammy and his cheeks grow warm and his heart wants to break and beat right out of his chest. Your breath is warm and sweet from candy as you quietly speak a hair’s width from his lips. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it forever.”

The tray in his hands feels light as a feather as JJ stands and stares. He keeps his distance from you - has been all night - and watches from across the room, stealing glances, trying to see if you’ve noticed him. Trying to see if you care. A part of him is angry. He feels cheated. Hell, he was. A part of him wants to march right up to you and force you to meet his gaze. To ask you if you recognise him, in some rhetorical quip. After all, it’s been a year - it wouldn’t surprise him. 

But there’s a longing there too. It lingers as JJ does his rounds of the tables of the country club’s Christmas party, as he tops up champagne flutes with the fizzy wine. An urge to ask you if you remember last Christmas. If you remember the handmade present and the sleepless nights and the tryst-filled mornings and the conversations that roamed far and wide in topic and scope. If you remember how it felt to be seen and to see him, and if you remember the feeling of the walls breaking down from kook to Pogue, until you were nothing more than a boy and a girl, falling in love. At least, that’s what he thought. Now, watching you sit pretty as a Magnolia in May, decorated like some gingerbread house, giggling and grinning amongst your peers in their designer threads: now it feels laughable to think that JJ Maybank had fallen in love with you. It’s hysterical that he thought you might be able to love him too. 

But as JJ walks past party-goers dressed in his work attire, he loses himself in a daydream. One of you rising from your seat and seeking him out in the corridors. He can practically smell your perfume as your hand reaches for his cheek; can recall the feel of your cool rings against his skin as you guide his lips to yours. If you kissed him tonight without an apology, JJ knows deep down how easily he’d fall under that spell again. 

His friends were right. Pogues and Kooks don’t belong together. To save himself from tears, he oughta give his heart to someone more fitting. Not just that - he oughta give his heart to someone special. 

Your eyes finally catch JJ’s. He can’t help but freeze. He holds your gaze. His lips don’t move, staying steady set in their half-frown, and he waits. Waits for some flash of recognition. Some flash of understanding. Of sympathy, for him having to see you with your kook boyfriend on what was almost the anniversary of what JJ had once marked as the most treasured day of his life. JJ stands still and unchanging as he watches your eyes break away from his gaze. They latch back onto someone sitting across the table from you. He feels as if he’s hallucinating as you laugh at something someone says. He feels like he’s the butt of the joke.

To think, he thought you were someone to rely on. Maybe all JJ had ever been was a shoulder for you to cry on. A vessel for you to pour your worries and fears into, of living a life lacking in adventure and passion. It seems to him, standing here in the country club, a waiter and an attendee, that you’re rather comfortable in your world. A world that JJ would never be a part of. A world that he never would want to be a part of, either. 

“Screw this,” JJ mumbles. He ditches the bottle of champagne on some random table and ignores the complaints of the guests. He nudges his way through the gaggles of guests until he gets to the door. Screw this and screw you. He’ll find someone else. Maybe, one day, he will. 

As he’s about to pass through the doorway towards the staff room, JJ falters. Sighing, hanging his head, he can’t help but take one last look to your table. 

You’re looking right at him. His lips part in surprise. 

There’s a heaviness in your eyes. A sadness, deep and longing, that tugs on his heart just as it would have done a year ago. Back when JJ knew you. Your lips part as if you might mouth something. But then they close and you purse them together. Instead, you just stare at him. And somehow, someway, JJ knows what that look means. Last Christmas was a thing of the past; as fickle and passing as a Hallmark movie. JJ gives a subtle nod and turns away, and he pushes open the door to the staff room, closing it on your world. 

He’ll try and look for someone more fitting. Maybe he will find someone who suits his life and who makes sense in his poverty stricken, abuse-soaked life. But they’ll never be as special as you were.

[honeysghost]

Warm Honey

Pairing: Porter/Treasure

Word count: 1,179

Porter and Treasure won the poll I put out, so here’s some mushy sick comfort featuring my favorite freaks 🖤 Up next (a lot sooner than you'd think) is Guy and Honey!

The AO3 version if you prefer: Warm Honey - honeysghost

“I’ll admit, when I decided to pay you a visit I was hoping for something… more, yes—but you’re clearly not up to the task, Treasure, and that’s not your fault.” Porter’s voice feels like honey in their ears. 

He’d dropped the usual bite in favor of something much softer after one look at them, knowing sex should be the last thing on their mind right now.

“I know, but I still feel bad. You came all this way and-”

“Treasure.” 

He places a hand on their cheek and face their head in his direction. “You are the only thing I’m concerned with right now. Whatever came before, whatever comes after, none of it matters if you aren’t in good condition.” 

They stifle a laugh at his phrasing. 

“Good condition,” they repeat, giving him a funny look. “Like I’m some worn down item at the thrift store?”

“Well, if you’re just going to make fun of me the whole time…” He makes a show of turning around, putting one foot toward the door. 

They catch his wrist with their hand, wrapping shakey fingers around him. “Stay, please.”

It’s not often Porter finds himself unable to ascribe words to a feeling, but being around Treasure seemed to elicit that response more and more. It’s odd, he thinks, being wanted the way they want him. It’s not sexual—at least not all the time. 

They want him simply because his presence brings them comfort. 

The strangeness of it all isn’t lost on Treasure, either. They found it just as weird to seek comfort in him, safety, warmth. This man, this decades old vampire—who kicked off their… whatever you could call this by telling them they had shit friends and asking to drink from them in some piss-soaked alley only 20 minutes after first meeting.

He was even an assassin of sorts. No one in their right mind would see all those bloodstained red flags and still jump into bed with him at any given chance.

His hands find their shoulders, spinning them around to walk down the hall, leading them toward their bedroom.

“We always end up back here,” they remark, smiling to themselves at the thought of having him in their bed again. 

It had been too long since the last time—which was half the reason they’d been so eager to have him, despite being sick. 

Every inch of their body craved his touch.

“You’re trouble,” Porter chides, fighting a smile of his own as the memories of all their late night dalliances surface in his mind.

When they’re settled into their bed, he heads back to the kitchen in search of tea. It wasn’t so irregular for them to start an evening slow, often finding Treasure cooking something whenever he comes over. 

They’d chat idly about their days until their plates were cleared, make tea afterward to relax just a little before getting on with their more… aerobic activities. It was an easy sort of routine they’d found themselves settling into.

When Porter arrives in the bedroom again, their favorite mug in hand, Treasure looks paler than they were when he left. He sets the tea down on the nightstand and presses his hand to their forehead.

It feels like heaven, Treasure thinks. They can’t help but lean into the touch, his cold skin soothing their feverish head. When he pulls away, they let out a small whine, reaching for him again.

At this, he laughs. He’d gotten used to them being a little needy, but that was usually reserved for after they were finished exhausting each other. 

“I made you tea.” He settles into the bed beside them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and sighing contentedly when they lean into him further, nuzzling into his neck. 

“What kind?”

“The kind that’s good for you,” Porter sighs, pushing their head back and picking the mug up again, bringing it to their lips.

They make a face when they taste it, scrunching up their nose at the amount of honey he’d put in it. “Too sweet,” they whine.

He scoffs, taking a sip for himself. 

“It tastes fine, darling. You’re being dramatic—honey is good when you’re sick.” 

They mime gagging, fighting a smile when he rolls his eyes at their antics.

“Hush.”

They curl up against him once more, resuming their previous position with their face buried in his neck. “You feel so good,” they mumble, breathing him in.

“You’re delirious,” he smiles, brushing off the compliment.

Treasure focuses on the steady beating of Porter’s heart, letting the sound lull them into a calm state.

If they had the energy, they would think about how easy it was to relax when he held them. A hand on their hip, the sound of his breathing, the way he would kiss the top of their head when they were quiet for too long—it was his way of reminding them he was there, that he wasn’t going to just take what he came for and leave, he would stick around a while longer.

“I really am sorry,” they sigh, lifting their head to meet his gaze. “I should’ve told you I was sick, and you didn’t need to come over.”

Porter looks them over for a moment, his brows quirked like he doesn’t understand why they keep apologizing.

“I told you, darling, it’s no bother.”

Treasure nods, not quite satisfied or rid of guilt, but tired enough to let it go.

“Will you stay the whole night? It’s silly, but I feel better knowing you’re here… just in case I get worse or something.”

Or something… If he picked up on their meaning, he didn’t comment on it, instead just agreeing to stay—something Treasure was immensely grateful for.

There were going to be other times much more suited for a proper feelings talk. Neither of them seemed ready for that, anyway. They would much rather settle for the strange kind of uncommitted-commitment they had going on.

“If I knew enough about healing magic, I would offer to speed up your recovery.”

Treasure hums sleepily in response, questions about magic running through their head that they file away for later. “That’s alright, this is enough.” 

Porter lets out a breathy laugh. “This? Me holding you? That’s all it takes, is it?”

They close their eyes, readjusting into a more comfortable position, throwing one leg over Porter’s. “Must be the magic.” 

“Hm. Must be.”

The overwhelming amount of heat radiating off their body makes Porter wiggle around until half his body is outside the blankets in an attempt to regulate his own body temperature. 

He runs a hand through their hair, ignoring the flutter in his chest when they let out a soft moan at the touch.

“Do you want me to put you to sleep?”

“Like a toddler?”

Another laugh. “No, Treasure. With magic.”

“Oh, no. 'M sleepy enough already.” 

Porter presses a kiss to their hair, and another to their temple, before closing his own eyes and waiting for their breath to even out.

“Sleep well, darling.”

[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

[nightghoul381]

Ellis Twilight ~ Main Route Blind Love Chapter 21

Disclaimer for route warnings | Masterlist

Additional Content Warnings: None

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

The hands that hugged me were wet with fresh blood.

“If I kill you on your happiest day, I’ll surely laugh then.”

That’s what I really think, my love…

Picking me up and holding me to his chest like some kind of treasure found in the coffin,

Ellis tried to walk away with me in his arms.

Kate: “Ellis, can’t I walk by myself…?”

Ellis: “No. I told you I wouldn’t let you go.”

The surrounding landscape was submerged in the silence of pre-dawn.

When we came out of the ruins that seemed to be used as the gang’s base, I saw gruesome corpses lying everywhere.

(…)

As I held my breath, a large hand covered my field of vision.

Ellis pressed my face against his chest, hiding the sight from me.

(This part of Ellis hasn’t changed at all, since he hid his brother’s photo.)

(No matter how it feels for Ellis, he tries to keep the other person from things that are painful.)

Kate: “Taking so many lives like this… I asked you before, but isn’t it painful for you Ellis?”

Ellis: “…Yeah.”

Kate: “Is that your true feelings? Or is it a lie to reassure me?”

Ellis: “…I mean it.”

Ellis: “I think it’s a pity that they had to die at a moment that isn’t the happiest…”

The first life he took was that of someone he loved.

And he was happy about his death.

--The scars that the memory left on the young Ellis’ heart were immeasurable.

--Flashback—

Ellis: “But then… my father told me I was a murderous demon and told me to repent for my sins.”

Ellis: “…I don’t know anymore.”

Ellis: “Maybe I—”

Ellis: “My brother could now go out into the world again with a wheelchair.”

Ellis: “Maybe I wanted to stop him from going anywhere.”

Ellis: “The moment I doubted that… my brother’s happiness became fake.”

--End Flashback—

For Ellis, the ‘crime’ wasn’t killing people.

It was killing them for his ‘own desires’.

Part 2

For Ellis, the ‘crime’ wasn’t killing people.

It was killing them for his ‘own desires’.

(If that wasn’t the case, killing his brother wouldn’t have been a ‘crime’ for Ellis.)

That was Ellis’ first experience—

The act of killing has erased the sense of guilt associated with it.

Kate: “…I see.”

The overwhelming love distorted Ellis’ heart.

(…But I want to love Ellis with his broken heart.)

Even if it was warped or broken, I loved Ellis’ heart.

When I hugged him tightly and Ellis anxiously asked a question.

Ellis: “Are you scared?”

Kate: “No… I’m not scared because you’re here, Ellis.”

(Because I love you…)

He smiled and hugged me.

Ellis looked happy and pressed his lips to my neck while I was in his arms.

The soft touch of his lips makes my skin tremble sweetly as he slowly withdraws.

Ellis: “From now on, I will always protect you.”

Kate: “Ellis…”

Ellis’ footsteps echoed as he left the ruins.

(…He’s so warm.)

Feeling the warmth of my lover, I closed my eyes with a deep sense of relief—

When we returned to Crown Castle, Roger was waiting for me as expected—

Roger: “I’ll examine you right away.”

Ellis: “Yeah, alright.”

Kate: “Huh?”

The two nodded at each other as if they had already agreed.

In the basement, there were newspaper clippings, unfamiliar documents,

Piles of them interspersed with hospital charts.

(Is it really a medical office, or more Roger’s research room…?)

Ellis had released me from his arms and placed me on the examination table.

Roger: “Poor thing. You must’ve been tied up with that rope for quite a long time.”

Roger: “I’ll have you rest for a while and then keep monitoring your condition. Is that okay, little lady?”

Kate: “But, it’s just a few scratches…”

Roger: “Don’t underestimate it just because it’s a scratch.”

Roger: “You could develop tetanus, sepsis, or some other fatal symptoms if the wound is infected.”

Roger: “There are cuts like that all over your body, I just wanted you to be aware of that.”

I’ve heard that tetanus patients are also called ‘demon-possessed’ and have horrible symptoms.

Roger’s threats worked, so I decided to be monitored obediently.

He recorded the number and location of the scratches in a chart, carefully removed the dirt from the wounds and wiped them clean with a cloth…

Ellis: “…”

Ellis didn’t move a muscle and just stared at me while I was receiving treatment.

Part 3

Ellis: “…”

Ellis didn’t move a muscle and just stared at me while I was receiving treatment.

(I think he’s worried about me…)

(Ellis must be tired after searching for me so much.)

Kate: “I’m fine now, so Ellis, why don’t you rest?”

Ellis: “I want to be here.”

But, I was flatly turned down.

Roger: “Kate’s embarrassed and you’re not going to leave? That’s not like you.”

Ellis: “Yeah… I thought I’d try being selfish with Kate.”

Ellis: “You can be a bit naughty and aggressive, Roger, so I want to be able to protect her from you at any time.”

Ellis: “Also, I haven’t seen much of Kate’s bare skin yet, so it’s not fair if you’re the only one to see it.”

Kate: “Wha, Ellis…!?”

Ellis: “What’s wrong?”

Staring at me as I turned bright red, Ellis tilted his head curiously.

Ellis: “Plus, if I watch I can learn how to treat wounds.”

Ellis: “Then I can treat you, Kate.”

***CHOICES***

1. You can do whatever you like, Ellis +4 +2

**2. You pamper me too much +4 +4**

3. Go, let Roger examine me +2 +4

***

Kate: “You’re pampering me too much…”

Ellis: “Because I can’t give you up to anyone, Kate.”

As Ellis smiled, my cheeks grew hotter and I felt at a loss for words.

Roger: “Wow… I didn’t expect you to say something like that.”

Roger looked at us with a surprised look on his face… and suddenly his lips curled.

Roger: “You finally opened the secret box.”

Part 4

Roger: “You finally opened the secret box.”

Ellis: “What secret box?”

Roger: “Ask the blushing little lady over there later.”

Kate: “Hey, Roger…!”

Roger looked at me and Ellis again…

Roger: “Well, I think it suits you.”

He smiled as he asked me…

Roger: “So, how far have you gotten?”

…With the usual extra curiosity.

Kate: “Roger…!”

Ellis: “We’ve only kissed so far.”

Kate: “Ellis…!?”

Roger: “You’ve made this girl fall head over heels for you and you still haven’t made a move?”

Roger: “That’s typical of you. So, what’s next?”

(What’s next…!?)

I was right in front of them, but Ellis was thinking deeply…

Ellis: “Hmm…”

Ellis: “…I want to eat it right away, maybe.”

Kate: “…!”

His mischievous smile made my face so hot it felt like steam was coming off it.

(Ellis… you may be more trouble than I thought)

(Not just a little, but a lot more trouble than I thought…)

Roger: “I was a fool to ask.”

Roger: “I’m getting heartburn, so I’m sorry, but please wait until after you get back to your room to continue.”

Roger brushed him off lightly and encouraged me to get off the table.

Roger: “I didn’t find any deep wounds or inflammation.”

Roger: “After you wash up with a bath, apply this.”

The examination ended when Roger handed me an ointment.

Ellis: “I’ll help you get dressed again.”

Kate: “Thank you.”

While I was being examined, I had pulled my arms out of the sleeves of my blouse,

Ellis tied the ribbon back up for me.

(Even though Roger is nearby… I feel strange…)

Every time Ellis’ fingers brushed against my skin, I secretly bit my lip.

(…Finally, it’s over.)

As I let out a sigh through my pursed lips and tried to leave the room,

Ellis looked back at Roger as if he’d just remembered something.

Ellis: “That’s right… Where’s Jude?”

Roger: “He had a fight with Will and left.”

Ellis: “Jude and Will fought?”

Part 5

Ellis: “That’s right… Where’s Jude?”

Roger: “He had a fight with Will and left.”

Ellis: “Jude and Will fought?”

If those two were fighting, it would be a bad omen.

Kate: “Wh-why were they fighting?!”

Roger: “It’s something about you, little lady.”

Roger: “Jude seemed to think that William knew that you might be targeted.”

Roger: “He questioned William about whether he’d kept quiet because he knew you would be kidnapped.”

Roger: “William does unexpected things by predicting the future.”

Roger: “Jude may be right, but I don’t know which is the truth.”

I never thought something like that would happen because I was kidnapped.

Roger: “Well, he’ll probably come back soon.”

Ellis: “……”

Ellis seemed to be pondering something.

(Jude isn’t the type to act irrationally and emotionally.)

That means there must be a reason why he left the castle.

(If I, the person they were escorting, was being targeted, and Ellis went to rescue me…)

(Jude wouldn’t have been heading there…)

(Maybe he’s tracking down the mastermind who incited the remnants of the gang to kidnap me.)

When a fire breaks out, the first thing you do is put an end to the source.

When I glanced to the side, Ellis seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Kate: “If there’s anything I can do, I’ll help you.”

Kate: “This all happened because of my carelessness.”

Ellis: “But, knowing Jude, he’s probably taken care of it already.”

Kate: “In that case, I’m afraid I’m going to be charged a huge amount for my carelessness…”

Ellis: “It’s my fault too, so if you get billed, let’s pay it off together.”

Roger: “? What are you guys talking about?”

Roger looked dumbfounded, but Ellis and I just laughed and told him it was nothing.

Kate: “Thank you for treating me.”

As I thanked him and started heading up the stairs, Roger’s voice called out from below.

Roger: “Little lady.”

I turned around and Roger was making a gesture for me to come over to him.

Kate: “I’ll be right back.”

As I took a step forward, Ellis gently tugged on my sleeve.

Ellis: “…If you kiss me, that’s fine. I’ll wait here for you.”

Next Chapter | His Side Story