the tragedy in night and day doesn't lie in the accident because day doesn't blame night for the accident (not really, not in the way night blames himself). the tragedy in night and day lies in day having wanted night to be his big brother but feeling like he had to take on that roll for night instead and night having wanted day to be his little brother who is as proud of him as he is of day but being unable to figure out how to get there before the accident. the tragedy lies in day not understanding why night couldn't step up until after day went blind ('im just so damn lucky to be blind') and their mother and the world started treating him like a tragedy; leaving him feeling like night has always been jealous of him and is only stepping up to take the place of the golden son of the family now that it's up for grabs. the tragedy lies in night not being able to communicate to day that he was always proud of him and that him showing up to his sporting events only after day went blind isn't because day is blind now but because he has always loved him and supported him ('this is my little brother. he's a junior athlete on the national team') but now it's impossible to convince day of his sincerity and night can't forgive himself. the tragedy of night and day lies in these brother not having been given the time to naturally grow out of this crooked brotherly dynamic that was put upon them and now they're stuck under all this weight both unable to leave the night of the accident when they're around each other. the tragedy in night and day is that tomorrow isn't guaranteed and they are too stuck in the past to look at today.

love sick c. f.

this book has also been published on wattpad. same username as the one on here. i update faster on there.

you and conrad had a secret relationship two summers ago, when you were 15 and he was 16. you broke up with him because your younger sister, belly had liked him, and you were afraid of hurting her. now, flash forward, you were 17, and you thought you had gotten over him, but maybe you haven’t

you are adopted in this! y/n's parents were close with the fishers and conklins but died in a car accident, so laurel adopts y/n

part 2

i. the drive

ME AND MY FAMILY have been coming to cousins since i was a baby, since before i was born.

the tradition was, me and my mom would go to the summer beach house in cousins, along with my moms friends, laurel park and susannah fisher, and laurel's daughter and son, and susannah's two sons.

the beach house felt magical, every summer, i couldn't wait to return each summer.

most of the time, me and belly would tag along with the moms, mostly just my mom.

my mom would take us shopping a lot, and get us frozen yogurt after, then we'd go swimming.

laurel and susannah didn't really like to swim with us. that's what made my mom so special. until both of my parents died. when i was seven. in a car crash.

my parents were my whole world. i miss them everyday.

after that happened, i had to move from north carolina to pennsylvania with the conklin's.

from what i remember, i was pretty shut down for the next two years, and sad all the time, but eventually i got better.

laurel had taken me in with her, john, steven, and belly, and i had my last name changed to l/n-conklin.

i had found hobbies to cope with my parents death. in sixth grade, i had taken up soccer. in eighth grade, i started volleyball. now, as a junior, i was on my schools soccer and volleyball team.

i was pretty smart too, academically. with my grades averaging with a's and b's since freshman year. i wanted to go to college, my dream school was university of southern california, usc.

today though, was the day i returned to cousins for the summer, of course, i was excited. i was in belly's room, packing, with taylor jewel, me and belly were both close friends with her.

"drew's bummed you're missing the beach match with the boys team next weekend." taylor told belly, laying down on the bed, on her phone.

belly turned around. "uh, make sure tell sophie to square up for the block." belly tells taylor, ignoring what she said.

"drew martinez is texting me about you, and you're talking about volleyball?" taylor said with a surprised expression.

"drew doesn't care if i'm there or not, he wants an excuse to text you." belly denied, not really acknowledging the fact that she had a glow up basically. "and you better take this game seriously, i mean, team pride is on the line, taylor."

"please, you know me better than that." taylor looked up. "i would never let a boy beat me at anything."

belly and i laughed. "i thought you came here to help us pack." belly smiled.

"fine.." taylor got up. "i'll help. here's a tip, don't bring that speedo. it doesn't do a thing for your new boobs." taylor said with a a laugh, sitting on belly's bed, flipping through a magazine.

"it's not a speedo." belly defended with a frown looking down at the swimsuit.

"yes it is." i intervene, looking at my phone.

"we're just saying babes, like you need to pack cute things." taylor says flipping a page in the magazine she's reading.

"well, i always buy a new suit when i get there." belly tells us with a smile.

"okay, well, buy one that doesn't look like you're trying out for the swim team." i pressed.

"are you serious y/n?" belly giggled, flopping onto the bed and launching herself onto me.

"girls! were leaving in the next 10 minutes!" laurel shouted from downstairs.

"we got to go." belly said with a frown.

"no, we don't, we still have 10 minutes!" i told the two of them with a smirk.

we started laughing again, but once it stopped, we sat on the bed, belly on the floor, taylor switching to a more serious tone.

"okay, before i let you both go you both have to tell me your summer wishes. like the one thing that you guys want to happen this summer."

"i don't know." belly took a deep sigh.

"you little liar, yes you do." taylor giggled at belly.

"you want a hot make out sesh with conrad fisher, you want his tongue in your mouth, you dirty little slut!" taylor joked.

i shifted uncomfortably, trying to plaster a laugh. "taylor! ew."

"i'm just saying, i mean, you've been in love with him since we were twelve." taylor reminded her as belly got up.

"it doesn't matter what i do, he doesn't see me that way." belly frowned.

"oh, he'll see you." i looked at belly up and down. "whether he wants to or not. you look a lot different than last summer, belly."

taylor laughed, then turned to me. "what about you, y/n?"

i looked away. "what about me?"

"your summer wish." taylor reminded me.

"i don't know yet." i sighed. "i guess go to a lot of parties, and make more friends."

"no boyfriend? no fling?" taylor asked, a little confused. "come on y/n, a whole summer on the beach? no nothing?"

"oh wow, big deal, a seventeen year old that doesn't care about a boyfriend." i sighed again. "i guess i've never really been that interested in getting a boyfriend." i shrugged. "i have other priorities."

i did. i applied for a job as a lifeguard at the country club, to get some money for college. i wanted to apply to ucla, it was my dream school.

i always try to keep myself busy, keep myself doing something productive, and i think the job would help.

"girls, we're leaving now!"

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

during the drive, belly got shotgun, steven was driving, and i sat in the backseat with mom, which i didn't really mind.

the song 'can't do better' by kim petras was blasting, while belly sung along from the top of her lungs.

i unbuckled my seatbelt and spread my legs across the backseat.

"uh, can you guys turn it down a little?" laurel asked. "and, y/n, sit right."

i sighed and sat straight, buckling my seatbelt. "i want you guys to be better about helping out this summer." laurel told us.

"don't just leave your dishes, load them into the dishwasher. and, not just your dish either, steven. i want you to be good houseguests." she continued.

"mom, susannah has people who clean, doesn't she?" steven asked, curiously.

laurel flicked steven on the head. "steven!"

"owww!" steven complained. "alright, alright. sorry."

mom is weird about money, the fact that susannah has money, and we don't.

"just.. be considerate, and act like i raised you right. steven, y/n, that means don't stay out too late."

"mommmm!" we both complained.

"i'm too old for a curfew." i frowned.

"wait, what about me? i don't have a curfew either, right?" belly asked from the front seat.

steven started to laugh. "what do you need a curfew for? you don't go anywhere."

"steven!" i threw my phone charger at him. "don't be a jackass."

"what?" steven continued laughing.

"we'll talk about it when it comes up." laurel told belly.

"oh, and y/n, don't forget, you promised you'd take me driving." belly reminded me.

"belly, i told you i'd take you." laurel intervened.

"yeah, but.. you're too judgy." belly quietly said.

me and steven started laughing. "excuse me?" laurel asked.

"yeah, sorry." belly laughed too.

we parked in front of the gas station me, belly, and mom going in.

belly got some cheetos and sour patches. she opened the bag of cheetos and ate a few.

"belly!" i whisper-yelled.

"what!?"

"at least pay for it first."

me and belly looked over at the register, to see a guy staring at us.

"hey." he nodded his head.

i smiled and waved, while belly grabbed a coke, and we brought our snacks up to the register.

"what's up with you, y/n?" jumper said with a smile.

"jumper? i didn't know you work here now." i said in surprise.

he turned to belly. "who's this? are you new this summer?"

belly looked behind her, then back at jumper. "uh, me? no.."

"really?" he smirked, and scanned the snacks. "thought i knew every pretty girl in cousins."

"ew, don't flirt with my little sister, idiot." i warned him.

to be honest, i wasn't really fond with jumper. the way he sort of treated girls like they were objects just wasn't too appealing to me.

he rolled his eyes. "whatever. you both coming to the bonfire tonight? first of the season."

"uh.. maybe." i responded.

"come!" he encouraged us, then turned to belly again with a smile. "i'll introduce you to some of my friends."

"maybe i will." belly smiled back

i gave belly a quick side eye. "maybe she won't." i look back to jumper, trying to protect belly.

laurel walked up to us. "after i get settled in, you wanna go to whale of a tale with me, so i can presign stock for the signing tonight?" she asked belly.

"uh..."

"remember.. when you used to sit on my lap when i used to sign there?" laurel continued

"no, i don't.. remember that." belly chuckled.

"i'll make you a deal." laurel said, as we walked out. "i'll let you pick out tonight's desert if you come in and keep me company."

"see you later." jumped smirked at belly.

"what's later?" laurel asked, curiously.

"nothing." belly responded, a little too quickly.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚

END OF CHAPTER

Hiiiii I was thinking about some of the drabbles from before and everyone has History and Some Issues, but I’m curious so,, what would the ROs younger selves think about who they grew up to be? Or what would the ROs tell their younger self?

anon i am obsessed with this question... in terms of meeting their younger selves:

adegoke: his child self would be confused and probably a bit scared. his teenage self would be a little disappointed. there is a lot that adegoke had to work through to get to where he is now. 

arthur: i keep going back and forth on what young arthur would think of his older self, because i’m not sure that he would really know what to think. i don’t think he would be pleased. i think the closest emotion would probably be disgust, because what a sad little life. 

atticus: i think young atticus would be so pumped at how he turned out and i think that would make present day atticus very sad indeed. 

avery: would be angry before any other emotion, i think, because she wants more for herself and she must have done something wrong somewhere along the way to fall so short of what she is capable of. i think that she and present day avery could have a very long talk about that, but she would need to make all of the same mistakes for herself anyway. 

charlie: i guess just bewildered? i think that of everyone, charlie might be the most surprised by where he ended up. 

ellis: before the start of the show? i think young ellis would be pleased that they had achieved so many of the things that they weren’t sure they would be capable of doing, and perhaps a little sad that they hadn’t done some of the other things that they thought would come easily. as of episode 3? crushingly, excruciatingly heartbroken. 

florrie: thrilled, delighted, absolutely jazzed! after always being told that growing up would mean giving up a lot of the things she finds fun, little florrie would be so thrilled to learn that isn’t true. 

griffin: i’m not sure how much thought griffin has ever really given to the future or who he will be or where he’ll end up, so i’m not sure he’d have strong feelings either way? he’d be like oh okay and then go back to playing hahaha 

imogen: really proud of herself. imogen has had to do a lot of hard things to get to where she is and i think young her would be grateful to know that she does have it in herself to do them, actually. 

nyra: would be encouraged by some parts and disheartened by others, but in general i think it would be extremely emotionally charged. they’d have a big hug, there would definitely be tears.   

rowan: teenage rowan would probably be like omg cringe hahaha - she had a real Not Like Other Girls phase and adult rowan kind of prides herself on being like other girls actually because girls are sick!  

syd: would be fuckin psyched, i think? syd more than anyone has really exceeded their childhood expectations. 

vinh: would just absolutely break down in tears of relief. they made it, they're doing it, they're okay. their life isn’t perfect, but it’s theirs and they are living it on their own terms. also they get to make art all the time, and isn’t that just the dream.

Mean Girls + Quotes Part 2

Find part 1 here

More quotes that remind me of mean girls characters and their various relationships :)

Regina

"i became bitter and untouchable. i craved affection but even the mere thought of someone caring made my stomach turn."

unknown

"i have survived everything but i fear that i cannot survive myself."

Cynthia Chapman

"was i raised without love? or was i born unlovable?"

unknown

"am i lonely because no one cares, or am i lonely because i'm not strong enough to let anyone get close enough to care?"

Rob Hill Sr.

"of course i look angry all the time. my entire life i've been fighting a war. i am soaked in pain and sadness. the irony however, is that i'm not actually angry, i'm trying to learn how to be happy. and that in itself is a war."

unknown

Cady

"i thought - i want to go home. i want to be in a place that feels like home. where that was, i did not know."

Katie Kitamura

"i understood myself only after i destroyed myself. and only in the process of fixing myself did i know who i really was."

Sade Andria Zabala

“do you ever wonder where you took a wrong turn? where your life became the exact opposite of what you wanted it to be?”

unknown

"i have always tried to make a home for myself, but i have not felt at home in myself."

Jeanette Winterson

Janis

"of course i'm angry. do you have any idea how many times someone should have helped me?"

unknown

"hurt an artist and you'll see masterpieces of what you've done."

unknown

"i don't feel guilt at being unsociable, though i may sometimes regret it because my loneliness is painful."

Susan Sontag

Gretchen

"what a sick little head, your love always turns into obsession."

unknown

"i don't think people love me. they love versions of me i have spun for them, versions of me they have construed in their minds. the easy versions of me, the easy parts of me to love."

unknown

“i only know how to exist when i’m wanted.”

Mary Lambert

"i don't want to beg. i know you can feel it, my longing, the aching, my need for love. i don't want to beg. but oh god - oh god, please. please. love me. love me."

unknown

"for once i need to choose myself, or else i'm going to lose myself."

Veronika Jensen

Karen

“i believe in some blending of hope and sunshine sweetening the worst lots. i believe that this life is not all; neither the beginning nor the end. i believe while i tremble; i trust while i weep.”

Charlotte Brontë

Regina and Janis

"longing, how soft a word for such a ravenous feeling. how we hunger in silence."

Pavana

"dig your teeth into me. come on, i dare you. take a bite. open me up; raw and candy floss pink on the inside. make it hurt. i figure, you're going to hurt me one way or another. might as well be with your mouth."

Ashe Vernon

"i don't know what to do without you, i don't know where to put my hands."

unknown

"you are the knife i turn inside myself; that is love."

Franz Kafka

"i love you and i always will and i am sorry. what a useless word."

Ernest Hemingway

Regina and Cady

"i love you. i love you unconditionally. i loved you even in my ignorance. i loved you when i didn't even know. i just love you."

unknown

"and on some days, i wish our paths had never crossed because you don't know how heartbreaking it is to know that someone like you exists in this world and i cannot have you."

unknown

“i must have you exclusively, fiercely, possessively.”

Henry Miller

"i still haven't figured out how to sit across from you, and not be madly in love with everything you do."

William C. Hannan

“fuck my pride. fuck everything. i’m so desperately hungry for you.”

Henry Miller

Gretchen and Karen

"the way our fingers intertwine feels so natural and right; as if our hands hold memories of meeting in a thousand other lifetimes."

John Mark Green

"when i think of life, i think of you. when i think of love, i think of you. safe to say that i really like thinking about life with you."

unknown

"come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can't just stand on it."

Dino Ahmetovic

Regina and Gretchen

"i suffer in my loving, and you know it."

Willa Cather

"i loved you to the point of ruin. i loved you until my lungs were filled with ash."

Tina Tran

SHORT — Kyou Tsugunaga (01)

Originally Written: 07-15-20

Prompt: Look, just let me give Kyou a spa-day, just pamper him to death and force him to have a relaxing time. I have some more angsty ideas for later, but let's have some fluff for now.

Apparently, you're going to force him to relax. 

At least, that's what seems to be happening. 

Kyou knows that his health is a problem. He's been slowly getting sicker for the past five years while he's been working with Oracle, and in all honesty, he knows he's headed down a bad path. But there's no reason for you to worry about him so much. He's not that important. You aren't going to be able to solve anything, so why bother trying?

Today's his day off. As in, the day that Kyou's pretty sure you got for him via paying off one of his bosses. It's the first day off he's had in longer than he can remember. If he'd been alone, Kyou would have spent it face-down in his bed, sleeping like the dead. 

Instead, you have him over at your apartment— far nicer than his own. You're also making him take a bath, which apparently entails you having to be in the room with him. 

It's awkward enough to be unclothed in front of you. Even though the soapy water (thanks to your lavender-scented bubble bath) hides anything too embarrassing, Kyou knows that you can see just how skinny he's getting and how pale. You can see how the line of his collarbone is as sharp as a blade, how his arms are stick-thin, how every one of his vertebrae stands out in uneven lumps protruding from his skin. 

"Is it okay if I wash your hair?" Your voice jolts Kyou out of his pessimistic spiraling. 

"If you want to," he sighs. It's not that he doesn't want you to, not exactly. It's more like the idea of you getting any closer is kind of embarrassing. 

Kyou had thought that he'd outgrown the feeling of shame by now thanks to his years of crushing his pride to scrape by at work, but apparently not. When it comes to you, he always feels like he should be better than he is. 

Someone like him doesn't make a very good boyfriend. 

The next thing Kyou feels is a hand on his shoulder. 

"Quit thinking sad things. I can tell by your face that you're being all down on yourself." Because you're too kind for anyone's good, you lean in and kiss Kyou's cheek. 

Kyou feels himself flush. On your instruction, he turns in the bathtub so that his back is facing you. This requires tucking his legs up to his chest, which... makes him feel weirdly small. Kyou buries his face against his knees. He's embarrassed in a way that's hard to process. The idea of you washing his hair, of that much contact, is intimidating. 

But within the moment, your hands are in his wet hair, pulling it back and out of his face. The feeling of your fingers brushing against his neck makes Kyou shiver. With a squirt of shampoo into your palm, you rub your hands together, then bring them to Kyou's hair. First, all you do is rub it in. Kyou's hair goes down to his shoulder blades by now. He hasn't had it cut in a while, so there's plenty for you to work with. 

By the time you start massaging his scalp, Kyou is already starting to feel dizzy— and not from the heat. His body heaves out a dry little cough. It's the kind that hurts. 

With a worried hum, you drag your fingertips along the sides of Kyou's head, right behind his ears. It feels so good that Kyou can't help but sigh. He's glad he's not facing you right now. He's glad that you can't see his face. Slowly, his eyes flutter closed. 

"Alright, gonna rinse it out."

What gets Kyou's attention this time is you reaching up for the showerhead. Rinsing his hair out is a warm, spine-tingling process that involves a lot more touching. 

Kyou thinks that you might be spending a little more time on it than is necessary. 

When you're done, Kyou feels a lot like he's melting. His breathing is still catching a little bit, like usual, but the heat and steam are doing him some good. He feels a little bit less sick than usual... but at the same time, overwhelmed by how much touching you're doing. 

"Can I wash your face next? If that's okay?" Your smile is way too bright. 

"...why do you want to?" Kyou turns to face you. He knows his voice sounds dead. 

"Well... I wanted today to be kind of a spa day for you. As best as I can do. I got the lavender-scented stuff just for you, I've planned this and a bunch of other things, and... I just want to see you relax a bit." You explain it so easily, as if you're not just wasting your time. Kyou digs his nails into his palm. He's too tired to say no. 

"Do what you want. If you want to spoil me so much... fine." It's stupid. Getting attached is foolish. You'll be done with a pawn like him in no time, moved on to someone better. But... for now, Kyou just wants to feel your hands on him a little bit more.

Your expression is so happy that it almost hurts to look at. 

"Great! When you get out of the bath, I have this aromatherapy stress-relief lotion that I got for you, and I can brush your hair out when it dries. I have face cream too, to help with the dark circles, and once we've done all that, I got a mystery movie for us to watch— and plenty of snacks!" You sound so excited. Just listening to you is making Kyou feel sort of overwhelmed. People aren't supposed to be this nice to him. It's not normal.

But the next thing Kyou knows, you're tipping his head up to face you with two fingers under his chin. You have a washcloth with a little dribble of mint-scented face-cleaner on it, and... having you look him in the eyes like this is making it hard to breathe. 

For reasons that aren't just because of his lungs.

Todd with a reader who's not a mutant, they let him stay at their place, technically their parents but eh same thing, instead of the place Mystique has the brotherhood in?

Have a good day! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

Moving in with Todd Tolansky Headcanons!!

Thank you so much for the request! This is such a cute idea, I love it. The first thing I thought of was Gideon Graves in the rain honestly lmao. Anyways, here are my head canons for Todd living with this non-mutant S/O! As always, I'm sorry if I don't meet your expectations or anything, I'll always try my best!

(Slight TW for mentions of not eating and injuries)

• It took him a while to admit that he needed help, which isn't very surprising. His pride is one of the only things he has to his name.

• You first start noticing problems when he would turn up to school, tired and beaten down from battles with the X-Men.

• He's constantly falling asleep in class and looks like he's on the verge of passing out a lot, which is obviously worrying for his partner.

• Then you notice that he's not eating. He ignores his hygiene, he constantly gets sick. And he brushes it all off so that you don't get worried about him.

• But obviously you're still worried. Once you realize how awful his home situation is (no food, running water, constantly being forced to fight, etc) you immediately decide that he's going to live with you.

• You approach your parents and surprisingly they're pretty chill about it! (If that's unbelievable for anyone, just imagine it's a cool aunt or something)

• At first, Todd denies your offer. As much as he would love to be connected to your hip at all seconds of the day, his worst fear is you getting annoyed by him. Or you seeing him as a burden.

• But eventually, he relents. He just can't say no to you!

• It's rough at first. It's a big transition and he can't help but feel like he's asking too much. Even when he just asks for some water or something.

• Eventually, after showering him with enough affection, he'll start to get more comfortable.

• Also, he eats constantly. Like, there's no way that boy isn't starving. A diet of bugs isn't nutritious enough! He's probably extremely skinny too. Why do you think he wears such baggy clothes all of the time?

• After a while of living with you, he starts to get some of the life back in his face. He smiles more, he's more energetic, it's honestly a really nice change.

• He really doesn't know how to thank you, so he just does random things for you throughout the day. He likes making you food and drinks and he wakes you up gently every morning by rubbing your back (just so you don't get startled by the alarm AAGSHSG I LOVE HIM SO MUCH)

• He's still extremely clingy, but being around your parental figure makes him really nervous. He'll barely even hold your hand if you're around an adult, just because he wants to make a good impression (this boy definitely has parental issues btw)

• Todd also really appreciates your parental figures for allowing him to stay with you, so he'll do things like cleaning the dishes and buying them flowers. He just really wants some validation, you know? (same)

• All in all, he's always extremely appreciative of you. He looks at you like you're his entire world, because you really are!

Wow, that got a bit more angst-y than I actually would. I'm sorry for making it sad, I don't know if that's exactly what you were thinking, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Anyways, thank you so much for the request!! I hope I could at least come close to what you were thinking.

lost in solitude

pairing :: mira ft her father

word count :: 2.1k

synopsis :: mira is coping with her breakup and attempts to reconnect with the world.

time :: 2019

warnings :: angst

a/n :: my first oc without any daddy issue so i had to write this to comfort myself. dedicating this one to the people with daddy issues ♡

taglist :: @cafemilk-tea @cixrosie @moonlight-additions @cosmicwintr @astraw-astro @succulentmom @kimhyejin3108 @enhacolor @alixnsuperstxr @hybesunstone @itzy-eve @choihaneul @strmiu @angie-x3 @Kaitieskidmore1 @evaalopezzzz

The first week was terrible. It was the worst she’s slept in her entire life. The amount of fatigue and sadness she felt really weighed her down. She couldn't do the things that were normally a part of her routine.

She tried sitting down at her desk to enter a journal entry, only to sit down and stare at the blank page for minutes before getting back into her bed and falling asleep. She thought it would help to just write in her bed, but her pen never came in contact with the paper.

She thought reading might get her mind off of things. False. She looked at a book and immediately thought of him. She’d see a broken spine and think of him. She saw him in everything. Even more when skimming the titles on her bookshelf and stumbling upon the ones he had picked out for her.

Her company had announced she had caught a bug going around to take time off to rest and receive treatment. Nobody knew, except for her members, that she was going through the greatest heartbreak in her entire life and no doctor could mend her broken heart.

When the second week came around, she could finally sleep. Only because she tired herself out so much that she could not keep going without three straight days of sleeping. The girls were so worried about her, only seeing her come out of her bedroom to go to the bathroom and right back.

Jiu squeezed herself into the room when she was sleeping, refilling her water bottle and slipping snacks onto her desk in case she had any desire to eat. The leader would stay in there for a couple of minutes, heart aching when seeing how thin Mira had gotten. Her cheeks were so hollow, her skin so pale, her lips so chapped. 

Mira’s father kept in touch with Handong. It was unlike her to go days without messaging her dad so her member kept him in the loop.

Her father liked Wonwoo for having not met him before. Mira talked about him a lot and they truly seemed happy together. He wanted nothing more for his daughter. So when Handong told him, he was livid and offered to catch the first flight out of China to see Mira and put Wonwoo in his place in the process. Handong quickly shut him down and relayed everything that happened. Maybe he wouldn’t kill Wonwoo, but he needed to be there for his daughter. She reassured him it was not what Mira would want him to do so he stayed put while her member contacted him daily about her condition.

The ghosting on Mira’s part was going to be the death of Wonwoo. He tried to give her space w but was ultimately worried sick about her. As much as it hurt him to ask, he swallowed his pride and messaged Handong to check on Mira, and see how she was doing. He did this knowing that Handong might hate his guts as well, but her absence was not something he was prepared for. To his surprise, along with lots of scolding and unkind remarks, Handong provided him with all he needed to know. She was hurting. She slept for two hours at most in one week. Her routine was all messed up. She was on a break from scheduled promotions. She was exhausted. Once the first week passed, she was finally sleeping, but entire days of her life were gone. She was trying to hold her heart together from completely collapsing. That this was the result of his actions and that it would be hard for her members to forgive him for this. But she would be okay. She would pull through with time. She was fragile, but strong nonetheless.

Even after Handong was straightforward and, at times, brutally honest with him, she couldn't bring herself to hate him for his actions. Surprisingly, she found herself respecting him more than any other man could have earned. So, she couldn't hate him for that.

And then the third week arrived. She stayed up longer hours, managed to make herself presentable, and even sat down and wrote the longest journal entry to make up for the weeks she didn’t pick it up. She was slowly getting her usual self back. She was among the living again and she hated laying around feeling sorry for herself. But she hated that even more. She hated herself for letting their breakup tear her apart like this. She hated the way she immobilized herself. She suspended herself for two weeks while the world around her kept on turning. It’s not what she would have wanted for anyone. It’s especially not what he would have wanted either.

Her first time outside in two weeks was so refreshing, that she almost forgot why she didn’t leave her bedroom. The sun was out and she could practically feel her skin soaking up the vitamin D. The ambiance of birds, wind blowing, and distant traffic added to the experience. The only problem that still weighed on her chest was finally picking up her phone.

Mira took a walk around the neighborhood to organize her thoughts. She dreaded seeing everything she missed during her time of absence. But it was something she had to face sooner or later.

When she arrived back at the dorms, she went straight to the kitchen. She picked some strawberries out of their fridge and took them back to her room to eat. She cracked her window open a bit, letting some fresh air in and sitting at her desk.

She brought her legs to her chest, holding them tight so they didn’t fall off the chair, and snacked on a few strawberries before picking up her phone. It felt like she hadn’t seen an electronic device in forever. It was foreign material for her. She would’ve thought she had gotten a new phone if not for her lock screen. She had to change her lock screen soon, staring at the picture of the black cat she and Wonwoo spotted when on a date at a botanical garden.

When she saw how many messages and calls she missed, she was so overwhelmed. Most of them were from her father, and she felt a strong urge to slap herself for making him worry. The missed calls were in the double digits, her texts in the hundreds. Surely her father didn’t text her that many times. Her heart sank when she saw the names of all her missed texts. Her dad, Wonwoo, her manager, their choreographer, both of DREAMCATCHER’s producers, Dami, Siyeon, and a few of their stylists and makeup artists. If she didn’t feel terrible before, she definitely feels it now.

She opened her father's messages first, tears pooling in her eyes when scrolling through all his messages. He said that Handong told him everything and his texts lessened over the last week. Instead of asking if she was okay and needed him to fly out, he sent her pictures from her childhood and high school years. Most of the pictures were of him and her, some with Handong included too.

She wiped her eyes, quickly tapping on the button and calling her father. She hoped he wasn’t busy. She let the line ring until she heard a click.

“Xinyi?” He sounded scared but relieved to finally hear from her. She threw her head back, shutting her eyes to keep her tears at bay.

“Hi, bàba.”

“You’re okay, right? Are you feeling better? Do you need me to get on the next plane–“

“No!” She didn’t mean to raise her voice at him. “No– I’m okay. It’s fine. I’m really sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing? I don’t mind coming.”

“No, I mean you’re always welcome to come. I’m just sorry that I haven’t been present. I didn’t mean to make you worry. I just–“ She tries to keep her voice even but to no avail. She takes a few deep breaths before speaking again. “I just–“

She pauses again, covering her eyes with the back of her hand.

“It’s okay, honey. I know. I know.” He staggers on the line, making Mira want to cry more. She can’t believe she would ever hurt him like this.

“I’m sorry. To you, the girls, everybody. I didn’t mean to be selfish–“

“You’re not selfish, Xinyi. Listen to me.” He was soft when comforting others, but when she heard the familiar sternness in his voice he would use when he had to get his point across, she knew it was in her best interest to listen in. “You are not selfish. You do not have a single selfish bone in your body. You’ve always been like this. You– You get lost sometimes and then after a while you find yourself again.

“You’re so smart. So kind. You are a gift and a blessing in my life. You may not give yourself enough credit for it, but you are so so good. You, my Xinyi, are my greatest accomplishment in life. You always will be.”

She chokes out a sob, covering her mouth with her palm as her body shakes.

“Do you understand me, Xinyi? You’re just going through a hard time right now and it will pass. You’re gonna get through this, okay?”

The lump in her throat keeps her from pushing out words, instead, she hums into the phone while nodding her head. Right now would be a perfect time to go in for one of her dad's hugs.

Moments pass as Mira collects herself and it’s not as awkward as it would be for most people. She and her father understood this about each other. They understood it more than words could ever compare amount to.

“Did you eat today?” He clears his throat before speaking.

“Mhm. A couple bites.” She says softly. She doesn’t feel the urge to start bawling after every word comes rolling out of her mouth.

He sighs. She can just imagine him rubbing his eyes with his head tipping back. “That’s good. That’s very good. That’s something. Just don’t binge. Ease yourself into it so you don’t make yourself sick.”

“I know.” She smiles to herself, rubbing the sleeve of her shirt across her pants.

“Have you– you know… talked to him?”

He knows the wounds are still fresh. She knows she can’t avoid him any longer if she still wants to keep him in her life. “No… not yet.”

“Maybe it’s time. I’m sure it’s been agonizing for him as well. Especially with your absence.” He just sounds so righteous, so wise.

“Do you think he hates me?” 

“Come on, Xinyi. Who could hate you? Let alone dislike you. That would make them a psychopath.”

She tries to hold back her laugh, but it’s better for her to just let it out for her father to hear. Mira pats her eyes dry with her sleeve, sniffling with a smile on her face. Something she didn’t have before the phone call.

“Thank you, bàba. I love you.”

“I love you more, Xinyi. You are the most precious thing to me. You know I don’t care to come–”

“It’s fine. I’m okay. I have schedules to get back to soon either way. I love you.”

The line goes quiet for another second, waiting for him to say it back or pull something noble out of his brain. “Don’t keep him waiting too long, my dear. I’m sure he’s waiting for you to come around.”

Mira makes a kissing noise into the phone, knowing if they kept this going she would get nothing done. She would only prolong Wonwoo’s torture.

It took her a while to work up the courage to press his call button. She rehearsed what she would say, what she hoped he would say, even what he might say if he was just completely done and wanted nothing to do with her. That thought made her sick to her stomach. She kept hovering until she couldn’t. She didn’t realize her finger had actually pressed the call button, she was just rehearsing it. She pressed her phone to her ear with shaky hands, closing her eyes and taking her thumbnail into her mouth.

It rang and rang until it stopped. She looked at her phone, tears blurring her vision once she realized he never picked up. She tossed her phone onto her desk, not realizing how hard she threw it. She began to sob, her fingers brushing through her hair and stopping at the crown of her head.

She tried to be quiet, but the more she got worked up, the more her breaths became erratic and she was gasping for air. There was no way to conceal her cries. And maybe it was a cry for help on her part, in which case she would be successful because Siyeon had pushed the bedroom door open. It was the most sound any of the girls had heard come out of Mira’s room in weeks. And it wasn’t a pleasant sound.

Would Gabe give post-Micheal Ferryman his cape to temporarlly replace their holy cloth?

It would probably mess Micheal up that even without the cloth the Ferryman is still more radiant than him (since the ferrymen do absorb a lot of power from the cloth that remains even when defeated and someone else takes up the role).

Its sad that even after the abuse the ferryman's first thought is concern over Michael's state. He could have easily had a friend but pride and dogma got in the way...

(see this!)

YES WE'RE SHARING A WAVELENGTH....i immediately thought of gabriel lending them his cape for the time being, so their lil skull head is just poking out of all that fluff (and given that gabe is probably shorter than them, it might have a similar length to their cloth actually....aaaa) it brings them a lot of comfort, especially as they reconnect with gabriel, even if it's almost the opposite of their previous garments being hell-made and quite heavy. but i think the ferryman would like basically having a constant weighted blanket on them now considering the massive anxiety and trauma they're struggling with ;o;

and yea i definitely think michael was also left shaken by the encounter despite being the aggressor - he naturally would assume that all of the ferryman's radiance stemmed from the holy cloth itself, so to find that their bones are actually infused with it shocks him alongside seeing the ferryman bare in front of him. not only is he faced with the idea of one day being just like them, all flesh and identity worn away, but he also sees their gentle glow....an incandescence his own skeleton should share, but doesn't. he's dull. everything about him is dull, the only light he now has coming from the wings and halo that refuse to leave him. but his body, from sloughing skin to melting organs, no longer has any brilliance to it the way every part of an angel should. but of course. he ripped out his light, didn't he. yet it hammers him with a thought nearly unbearable - there is still something beautiful about the ferryman, while michael's corpse and skeleton, bereft of the finery he's adorned them with, are the same as any other. he could be a body in any field, half-eaten by insects and overgrown with weeds. he is something common, while the ferryman is still something exceptional.

and it is sad, a shame, that michael can't see how similar they are - the ferryman did this to themselves after all, just the same way he did. both such devotional souls that shun their flaws, that repent and pray and still believe in god when barely anyone else in this world still truly does. both working tirelessly to suit his design, to make this world what he designed it to be. but michael could never see himself in the sinner, so the ferryman is left alone in their concern. despite everything, they saw him. he had a blinding halo and full, luminous wings, yet they adorned a body in advanced decay. what could they think, looking back on it? even after all the suffering he caused them, they still could weep thinking about an angel of god so afflicted. even as their own wounds are tended, the wounds he caused, they wish they could have offered him help. he must be terribly sick, he must know agony a human soul couldn't comprehend...and so even after his vicious attack, even after his condemnation and his destruction of everything the ferryman loved, they still find themselves praying for him. they know their prayers must mean nothing to god and they know michael wouldn't even want them, but still they appeal for him. after all, how many times had they recited st. michael's prayer for protection? it's all they can do to now to instead pray to alleviate his anguish, no matter how unwelcome those prayers may be.

Future

Warnings - MUGEN TRAIN SPOILERS, eavesdropping, reader is called Mommy, Mama. FEM! Reader

Rainy days were the bane of your husband Kyojuro’s existence. He hated it when the world was all dark and gloomy, he disliked even more the thickness of the fog that settled after a good rain. But he knew it was some of your favorite weather, another day you would spend on the Engawa with your daughter. Hinata had grown out of being a daddy's girl as she was closer to turning 4 now. She had stuck herself to your side and decided she wasn’t ever going to spend her days sitting by the front door in the mornings, head still messed up from tossing around in her sleep as she waited for her father to show up. Now she was your loyal daughter, sitting with you as you enjoyed listening to the rain roll through. “Then Daddy and I went running to the nearest store, hoping we could get out of the rain because we couldn’t get sick. Daddy had work to do and I had you to take care of! Luckily Uncle Zoo lived really close by so me and your daddy decided that we would hold our baskets over our heads and run all the way there!” Hinata was giggling as you animatedly talked about your own time stuck in the rain, down at the market while shopping for dinner.   “You're silly! You were all wet! Uncle Zoo was probably so mad!” you shook your head. “No! he was wet as well! He was at the springs when it rained! We looked like frogs!” Her laughs were heavier as you puffed up your cheeks to mimic a frog. “Daddy looks like a Tiger. I think you’re a fox mom. You are cute like them and they like to play.” Hinata was nodding to herself, confirming her own thoughts as though they were the best thing she has said. Although rainy days were grim and sad to be in, Kyojuro found joy in listening to you and your daughter talk. There was a warmth that settled in his chest listening to the two of you talk and giggle amongst each other. When you face the fact that you may die you find yourself worrying about the ones you leave behind and he couldn’t bear the thought of you being alone with Hinata. But if anything were to happen, he knew now that you could handle it, the bond between mother and daughter couldn’t be broken and it was very obvious as he hid behind the door and listened as you talked about different animals and who Hinata had decided everyone was. “What kind of animal do you think you are Hinata?” The little girl sat back, her long blonde and red braid moving off of her shoulder as she got lost in her own thoughts. You sat patiently, watching as she decided herself. “A bobcat! They are fierce and cool just like daddy but they are very cute and they are good moms, just like you mama. Plus uncle zoo says that even he's afraid of bobcats and I know he’s afraid of me” Her chest was puffed with pride and she faked a little growl, but it sounded more like the noises she made after stuffing her face at dinner. “You want to be fierce like daddy? You think he’s fierce?” “And cool Mama, he goes like woosh and wapow and tututut when he practices, and even Tanjiro can’t beat him. Plus he has cool eyebrows” You laughed at her last statement, having to agree. He did have some very cool eyebrows.  She stood abruptly. “You think he can teach me to do it?” “Do what sweetheart?” She looked into the house, suddenly shy that her father was standing there listening. Little did she know he was around the corner. “to fight like woopah, blam!” She mimicked sword fighting, adding many sound effects as she ran around the engawa. “How about if he says yes you wait until your 8 to learn how to fight like that? That seems like a lot of action for one household and Daddy is still training Tanjiro, Zenitsu, and Inosuke a lot” She slumped back down next to you, crawling into your lap for warmth. “yeah, I guess” She was disappointed at your answer, deciding instead to bury herself in the comfort you provided her. “Kyojuro, my love, can you come here!” you called out, watching the open door for signs of the man himself. He poked his head around the corner, revealing his position to you. “Come here, you little eavesdropper. Just because you have war injuries doesn’t mean I can't yell at you for sneaking around” He chuckled, getting up to move closer. He leaned down placing a kiss on your forehead and patting our daughter's head as he sat next to you, immediately pulling you to his side. “I don’t sneak around, I was simply listening to the rain while staying dry.” You were unamused, he would never enjoy the rain like you did, you both knew that. “Hinata wants to learn, what was it Hinata?” You looked down at the little girl who stared directly at her father, gold and red eyes staring into a matching pair. “your fighting, when you and the boys run around and play with swords. Mom said I have to wait until I'm 8 though!” Kyojuro laughed, patting around the jeweled eyepatch Tengen had gifted him last year ‘we match now!’ he said as Kyojuro stared. Now it was his favorite one to wear. He looked down at his daughter, her unwavering gaze and her stubbornness that could match a bull's. She was so much like him yet so much like you, she would make an excellent swordsman. Running his hand over the eyepatch he sported, hiding his permanently damaged and scarred eye, one of the many scars he sported from his time as a swordsman, he couldn’t help but feel dread at the thought of his daughter facing even close to the same dangers, injury, and horrors he has faced. He couldn’t even bare the thought of her not returning one day. You had already been put through so much raising Hinata for her first year b yourself while Kyojuro healed from wounds that should have killed him. He was lucky, but what if Hinata wasn’t? He couldn’t lose her, he couldn’t let you lose her. “I would like to wait until you are 15. I don’t want you to waste all your fun learning how to swing a sword. We can still run around and learn how to fight though! Like the big bag lion king RAHHH!” Kyjuro roared! Scooping your daughter out of your arms as he imitated ‘the lion king’ “Now princess Hinata! You are stuck with me! I have captured you away from the kingdom of Mommy! You shall never escape me or my castle! Mwahahaha” He cackled menacingly, walking backward, holding Hinata on his shoulder as she giggled wildly. “Help me, Mommy! He’s going to keep me!!” She squealed, bursting into a fit of giggles as Kyojuro tickled her sides. “No! Not Princess Hinata!! Unhand her you nasty beast!” Kyojuro cackled again, swinging hinata around with ease as he ran to the end of the engawa “I will never unhand her! She is mine to keep, there is nothing you can do!” You waltzed up to your husband, watching carefully as he moved Hinata to sit on his hip. “Nothing I can do? Not even a kiss from a beautiful queen can get you to give her back?” you were batting your eyelashes at him, adding emphasis to your words as you leaned in to claim his lips in a kiss. Before he could deepen the kiss you were already pulling Hinata out of his arms. “Ew mama” You giggled as Hinata snuggled into your shoulder “Nooo! Princess Hinata!! Now I have to live in my cave all alone! All by myself” Kyojuro fake cried into his sleeve, exaggerated loud cries as he shook along with each cry as he slumped to his knees. Hinata wiggled, kicking at you until you put her down so she could walk up to her father. “Mr. Beast. You can live with Mommy, shes really pretty and she makes really good Tempura and even little cakes” Kyojuro looked up from his sleeve, a smile already on his lips. “Okay! Come on!” she watched him get up before taking his hand and leading him back to where you stood. “He wants to eat Tempura with us!” she cheered. Hoping this means you will actually feed them Tempura and maybe if she's super lucky, they’ll get cake as well.

Deadpool reacts to s/o who's into parkour.

Hello! This is a short one and it's a bit more sad than I intended but hopefully it's still good!

Warnings: sad wade, kissing, sexual content implied

Peter could take a beating, he and Wade had fought enough times to know that boy could handle himself just fine. 

You, on the other hand, he wasn't so sure he felt as confident. Every time you managed to get a little bit closer to him the more he didn’t like you going out. He knew how this movie ended, but unfortunately every time he would try to run away, you’d catch him before he got to the other side of the apartment like some kind of puppy or wild badger. 

He knew that you had the training. Being Daddy Warbucks' pride and joy, you even trained with Logan for a while. Not to mention Step Daddy Assassin too. You’d grown up in the mansion, all your life was devoted to being a bleeding heart combat specialist. You eat, breathed, and puked this shit. 

Knowing something was different than feeling something though. Every time you’d come down to Sissy Margret’s he’d feel the need to watch your back more than just your fantastic Marvel-ous ass. 

When you dropped down from the side of the building he felt that familiar feeling of his heart being ripped in half. Seeing you land on the balcony, move into a flip, and land on the target's car, put air back in his sad cancer lungs. 

You raised your fist at him triumphantly 

“Parkour!” The meme did nothing to lift his spirits. As Spidey wrapped up the bad guy, it was an overall big win for team red. 

But like the savage mindreading gremlin, you were, you saw right through his facade. 

“Wade. You didn’t even eat your second taco. What’s up?” Your eyes were wide with concern, and it did stuff to his raggedy heart. 

“Just saving room to eat your Taco later Baby Girl.” He answered in what he thought his usual cocky tone was, the voices had a different opinion on the execution. 

“Wade come on!” He was going to press another dirty joke but decided maybe he should just have the talk. Ew. 

But he knew full well what it did to you, seeing him slink away or try to sneak out. Made you feel like you weren't good enough when nothing had ever been so untrue in the history of things. 

He looked at you sitting across the couch probably thinking about throwing him off a building for being such a shithead. Maybe if it got bad enough your parents would finally put an end to things.

“I get sick when you come out with us.” He blurted out. 

“What?” 

“Yeah like I’ve puked in my mask a few times, I hate seeing you out there, like trust me I like the leather, and when you do the extra bendy stuff, but not the other stuff. Any of the other stuff.”

“Why not?” You saw the challenge spark in your eyes and for a moment he had hope that it would be enough to preserve yourself. 

“The more time we spend together the more I think about you as a person and not just your glorious ass-” 

“Wade I’m not Nessa.” You cut him off in more ways than one. “Or your mum.” 

He sat there for a while trying to compute what you said. It wasn't fair being with someone who was always smart enough to be one step ahead of him. He sat there resisting the urge to grab his jacket and leave. In his head it would be going for a walk to clear his head, in your mind, it would be abandonment and Peter would side with you. Instead of making him say something, you just climbed up on his lap. 

“This might be the worst pity lap dance ever” He whispered as you settled against his chest. His arms wrapped around you and he held you tightly not understanding how you knew he needed this. 

“I love you.” He said softly.

“I know.” You leaned up and kissed him leading to more mind-blowing sex. 

After that, you manage to stick a little closer to him while out in the field, it wasn’t possible all of the time, and he still puked in his mask a lot more than he did before you were in his life. But it meant a lot to him nonetheless. 

And that kids is how having open communication can lead to excellent, savage, kinky sex and an overall sense of safety in a relationship. 

Y'know, this year was complete bull shit.

January, ended up getting back with my gf after a bunch of drama happened on my birthday making me just not talk to literally anyone.

Friend#1 was just hecka sad for some reason and didnt wanna talk to anyone sadly.

Febuary, made RubyTV, childs birthday sometime then, not much happened...oh right also a bunch-o-drama happened for no fucking reason.

March, MARCH BREAK :DDDDDDDD...got so fucking sick for no damn reason.

Girlfriends birthday on march break, had to force myself to be okay when i was deadly sick 2 days before her birthday.

what comes after march ? right.

APRIL.

Stupid friend#2 was a dick. unfreidned them. asshole. hecka more drama happened.

feel like i shouldnt say more then that.

MAY.

only teacher i really liked said he was moving away in the summer, its also his birthday sometime soon.

dRaMa.

june, last month of school, pride month, not being able to do anything for it because of my lack of...aaaammmmmm...forgot how to say it but i lack in shit.

OH i also think friend#1 came back...then lied about something and i felt hurt.

august, baybe setted a cat missy/miss gibson :3

then was lied to by my own fucking gf about something i dont wanna talk about, MID BAYBE SETTING MISSY.

very hurt.

also think i started talking to friend#1 again because i really do love them...

september. terrible. just. terrible. broke up with gf.

more fights.

drama.

october, okaayy. fine, nothing really happened, halloween did ig ? really boring though.

november, already terrible, miss friend#1 a whole lot more for some reason ?

birthday month.

almost the end of the year, yyyyaaayyyy :)

december, we have yet to see.

so, there, thought your year mightve been worse. sorry. no one asked for this, but i wanted to say. i will stop talking about my problems now since usually i hate doing that.

i think it would be so fun to see modern fcc myrah and rhaenyra interact! esp because of the lil ficlet u posted of aegon and rhaenyra (i loved it)

You asked, and you shall received! Just for housekeeping/reminding: viserys gets sick in this universe as well.

Try a Little Tenderness

Rhaenyra always hated hospitals. The smell of sterile cleanness, and the bright halogen lights gave her a headache. She had only been to hospitals for the most terrifying, stressful moments in her life: giving birth, watching Alicent or Laena give birth… her mother dying.

The chemo wing of the hospital was a new low in terms of doom and gloom. The only thing that made it worse was the empty seat next her. Everyone had agreed to take shifts coming to the hospital for Viserys’ chemotherapy rounds. Alicent had went as far as to make an extremely detailed calendar that worked around everyone’s schedule.

One thing Rhaenyra had learned about Alicent over the years is that she’s far too softhearted for her own good. Softhearted and crafty; it makes for a dangerous combination. Rhaenyra already knew what Alicent was doing when she paired Rhaenyra and Aemond up several times on the schedule. But the seat next to her bare, and she is alone. A feeling she had grown accustomed to. Rhaenyra did not even care to text or call Aemond, she already was in a bad mood. She could not handle getting her head ripped off.

She doesn’t even want to go in and check on Viserys alone. There is a sickness that permeates through her the way it does her father - the feeling of abandonment. Her attention goes from the book she was pretending to read to the window near where she was sitting. The obnoxious brightness of the sun taunting her sadness.

Her morbid thoughts are broken by the sound of a familiar voice.

“Rhaenyra,” she looks up to see Myrah standing there with a nervous smile on her face.

“He has resorted to sending his girlfriend?”

It sounded more harsh then she intended it to be. Myrah crosses her arms, wrapped in a oversized leather jacket that Rhaenyra assumes is Aemond’s, with her lips quirked to the side in slight annoyance. “I decided to come myself, but I can go if I am not welcomed.”

“No,” Rhaenyra winces at how loud and desperate it comes out. “I’m sorry I just - I didn’t expect you is all.”

Myrah sits in the seat next to her. Silence seeps through the area before Rhaenyra pipes up.

“Is Aemond ok?”

Myrah opens her mouth, then closes it with a frown. “Ok in the sense that he’s at home…”

She trails off and Rhaenyra just nods curtly. He’s fine, he could not be bothered to come. More silence follows for the next few minutes.

“Oh,” Myrah brightens before digging into her large purse. “I crocheted something for you.”

She pulls out a crocheted red hat. “I made one for all you guys. You got red, Aegon got orange, Helaena got blue, Daeron got green, and Aemond got black.”

Rhaenyra stares at the hat, rubbing her thumbs over the soft material, then looks at the earnest look on Myrah’s face.

Tears fill her eyes immediately.

Big, fat ones rolling down her face. It had been a regular occurance lately, the crying. For someone who pride herself on trying to be rational, maybe even slightly cold, the overflow of emotions she has felt lately ratted Rhaenyra to her core. She hated feeling this powerless over elements of her life.

“Oh, Rhaenyra,” Myrah hand rubs her back softly. She uses her other hand to dig in her purse again, and pulls out a packet of tissues.

“Why did he not come,” Rhaenyra whispers. She told herself she didn’t care but she does. She cares a lot about why Aemond is like… that. “Our father is dying and he seems to not care.”

Rhaenyra remembers the dinner where Viserys broke the news. The way Aemond just huffed and left, a sheepish Myrah following after apologizing.

Myrah sighs. “Have you ever thought that maybe that is something you should ask him yourself? Why he feels that way about viserys.”

Rhaenyra sniffles, looking at Myrah. “Everyone will work through this in their own way,” she continues. “You want to be here for your father, and that’s your prerogative. It is the prerogative of whoever wants to come here too. Your experience and feelings are valid the same way Aemond’s are, even if they are different in the moment.”

Needing a girl more than 10 years her junior to tell her does make her feel a bit foolish. Her therapist does tell her that looking outside herself is hard, but a necessary tool to working through her own baggage. Being wrapped in her own world had been a knock against her since she was a teen.

Rhaenyra would like to think growing up, having kids, and getting help slowly made it easier for her to peel back and examine that selfishness. To break it, but she still had her moments. Myrah continues to rub her back, alternating between big and little circles. Rhaenyra can’t help but wonder if this is the way she comforts Aemond. Calmly but authoritative. Sweet but stern.

“Do you want to go see him,” Myrah eventually asks, motioning her head towards the private room Viserys is in. Rhaenyra blows her lips out before nodding.

All she can think about is how funny life is. A folly to trick you into a false sense of security.

“Honey, I’m home.”

Aemond had came out of the bedroom embarrassingly fast at the sound in Myrah’s voice.

He had sent the afternoon and evening pretend to be busy. Scrolling aimlessly through files, flipping through sheet he had already read over a plethora of times. He even resorted to watching Vhagar continue to shed her skin. Myrah just kissed him on the forehead and said she was going to the hospital. Simple and to the point, not asking for feedback or permission; it was always how Myrah did things.

Guilt, anger, and sadness swirled in the pit of his stomach for hours till Myrah got back.

That was until he saw Myrah taking off Rhaenyra’s coat and hanging it in the coat closet. His coat closet, in his apartment.

“Have you ate already,” she leans up to kiss, and when he doesn’t reciprocate, she frowns. “Rhaenyra, will you excuse us?”

She just nods, standing awkwardly near the door. Myrah grabs Aemond’s hand, and pulls him back towards the kitchen.

“Why did you bring her here?”

“I felt bad. She cried at the hospital,” she whispers. “I didn’t want her to be alone tonight.”

“She’s not alone. She has Harwin and the brats,” Aemond pinches the bridge of his nose.

Myrah sighs, grabbing both of his hands. “I know this has been rough on you - Aemond, let me finish,” she interrupts when he tries to rebut. “This has been hard on you, on all of your family. She was upset. I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable but I would hope the same curtesy would be extended towards you. I can ask her to leave if that is what you want.”

Aemond squeezes her hands, and she squeezes back. “Dinner and then she leaves.”

“Dinner and then she leaves,” Myrah repeats. She leans up and kisses him again.

She drags him back out into the living area, and smiles. “I’m thinking Italian food.”

Rhaenyra had been looking at the table of photos near the door. A mirage of ones across the years. One of Aemond and Alicent when he graduated from university. Another of him, Aegon, Helaena, Daeron at the family cabin. A picture of Myrah and Aemond at a football match.

But there is one particular photo that makes Rhaenyra pause. One from her wedding to Harwin. By that point jace and daeron had both turned five. Luke just turned three; Joffrey had been born yet. Every single child lined up with her, Harwin, Alicent, and Viserys in the back.

It made her heart hurt a bit. Tittering between feeling like nothing had changed while everything has.

“Italian is fine with me,” best agree to everything while in someone else’s space.

“Oh, and we can get cannolis,” Myrah beams.

Myrah’s disposition is infectious in a way. It takes little time while being in the apartment for Rhaenyra to feel looser than she did before she came in. By the time the food arrives, they are sat at the table, gossiping of all things.

“I think Jace has a girlfriend,” she replies sheepishly after Myrah asked about her kids.

“Do you think we’ll get to meet her,” Myrah gasps.

Rhaenyra shrugs. “He’s away and keeps things under wraps. But I have a hunch.”

“Hmm all mothers do I think. My mom knew about Aemond and I before I even told her,” she reached over and brushes a stray hair out his eyes.

Watching Myrah and Aemond interact with each other will always be fascinating to Rhaenyra. Something almost awe worthy in seeing Aemond that relaxed and open. His gaze softens and melts while focused on her.

She can only pray whoever had her son’s attention is just an ounce good for Jace as Myrah is for Aemond.

“I’m gonna go get the ice cream,” Myrah gets up, grabbing the plates.

Aemond and her sit together at the table, quiet and still.

“I do… understand why you would not want to come.. to - to the hospital,” Rhaenyra starts. “I do hope you can go eventually. It would mean a lot to him.”

Aemond just stares blankly.

“I am sorry, Aemond. For whatever part I played in all of this. I know I wasn’t the best sister to you growing up. To you or to our brothers and sister.”

His gaze shifts to the table, swallowing hard.

“You’re just like him you know,” he whispers. “Always apologizing after the fact.”

“That’s not fair,” Rhaenyra frowns.

“No,” Aemond throws back quickly. “It’s not.”

You have to give him time, Alicent told her one day. He has spent years building up an immunity, a protective barrier.

“I always make sure to keep chocolate and caramel sauce too,” Myrah walks from the kitchen juggling the cannolis, ice cream, bowls, and the sauce containers.

Her smile falters when she senses the tense energy.

Rhaenyra can’t make up lost time or course correct what happened. Aemond’s attitude didn’t make her more upset with him, only with her father. He did a number on all of them, and now he will die and leave them with the carnage of how fucked up they are.

“Would you mind if I take my cannoli to go. I’m sure Harwin is staying up even though I told him not to.”

Healing takes time… and space. The least she can do is give Aemond that.

Hiii

So first I wanted to say your content is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING!

your sick s/o piece about Gin and Sugi really made my day ಥ‿ಥ

But also made me think about the same thing but with Sougo And how it wouldn't be his first time watching a person important to him whither away on a hospital bed. (yes. I love to suffer)

So I thought I'd request the same thing but with our boy Sougo (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

Thanks again and keep up the good work (❍ᴥ❍ʋ)

A/N: Ohhhh thank you so much, I appreciate your kind words! Gotta say, Sougo in the same spot puzzles me A LOT. He is one of my most favorite characters yet he is such a complex person that whenever I try to think of headcanons about him or like when I try to picture him in a specific situation, I have such a big trouble, because it's as if he has a split personality.

Anyhow, I love a challenge! And if Sougo gives me vibes that go both ways then I'll follow both ways, kinda, at least! Hopefully this isn't too inaccurate, I'll cry if it is not really. Uh, side note, I might go more into general headcanon area to explain him a bit before going into the whole sickness thing. Bear with me, first time writing about him.

Warning: Some language, some angst, some hints of sexual S/M relationship but nothing wild. SFW, is what I'd call it.

Sougo with extremely sick S/O

(who is cutting onions, i can't stand to see sougo sad, mistuba's arc broke me)

Sougo is the kind of person whose expression of love would be so bizarre and unexplainable, that it would make everyone, including you, second guess his intentions. It wouldn't be surprising if people misjudged your relationship, even going as far as to assume that you were his victim, someone he took advantage of, a pet rather than a partner.

He'd be mean, selfish, would have no issue hurting or insulting you, fully manifesting his sadistic tendencies in front of you, but with time you'd come to realize that Sougo wasn't the heartless sadist everyone made him out to be. I mean he is, but deep down behind all that, he is a broken man who craves attention and affection, namely the one you had to offer him.

Even if he never admitted it, he did love you in his own selfish and possessive way. He loved you because you loved him, because you'd do everything for him and that's exactly what he needed. Someone to give him their all, their body, mind and soul. He loved you because despite all the horrible things he did to you, you never ran away. How could a person be like that? How could someone have zero pride, being with someone like him and keep on loving him?

In the beginning he'd definitely think of you as his playtoy, someone dumb he could use to sate his own curiosity. The power imbalance in your relationship was as clear as it gets. However, said curiosity would soon turn into something more and before he knew, the one wrapped around the other's finger was him and not you, a fact that Sougo was oblivious to until the day you got sick.

I'd imagine either Hijikata or Kondo would be the one to break the news to him. Sougo would either be sleeping or practicing in the dojo and when they told him, he just shrugged his shoulders, not taking them seriously. He'd go back to doing whatever it was that he was doing, undisturbed. Truth was, he didn't want to believe it at first, he'd like to think that worst case scenario it was a nasty cold that brought you down, that once you got better, you'd appear before his eyes as if nothing had happened. You weren't weak, you were able to take everything he did to you without ever complaining, there was no way you'd succumb to a disease.

During the first days, he'd be in complete denial over your sickness, expecting you to show up at the Headquarters at any given time. He didn't attempt to visit or call you, as long as he acted like everything was fine, it wasn't real. But the days went by and he hadn't heard a thing from you, that was when he'd allow himself to start worrying. He'd play cool in front of the others before finally asking for a day off to visit you.

Once his feet brought him to your potential deathbed, that's when he'd get to relieve his own worst fears. The memories of Mitsuba would resurface, the wounds of her loss would open up, leaving him gasping for air. There was no way that the one person he'd chosen as his partner was suffering through the same cruel fate his sister went through. There was no way that he'd be abandoned again, there was no fucking way.

At first, Sougo's sadness would stem from very selfish reasons. Your death would mean that he'd be left on his own again, that all the warmth, attention and affection you gave him so unconditionally would too be lost with you. If you died, then who would be able to offer him those things? Who could ever love a wretched man like him again? You were his and only his, how could death ever take you away from him?

And so, during his first visit he'd be rather mean towards you, which wasn't anything new in particular, however there was something else hidden behind his harsh words. Despair.

"Y/N, it seems to me like you forgot what your place is." He'd take off his sword, placing it on the floor next to you while kneeling by your side. His red eyes would be burning with rage, looking at you with neither kindness nor his usual indifference either. "Here you are, doing unnecessary things again. Is this really how much you want me to give you attention?"

Blinking your eyes slowly, you'd look at him, unable to protest or talk back at him.

"I thought I had trained you well enough, yet here you are acting on your own. Hurry up, so that I can assume your training again. It's been a while since I last punished you." Grabbing your hand, he'd try to pull you up, to no avail. Your fingers would constantly slip from his, your body as lifeless as that of a puppet. "I said get up, your master commands you!" His tone would be nearly frantic, yelling the words with bitterness as he'd try again, unable to make you budge from your place.

"I'm sorry, Sougo. I never meant for such a thing to happen-" You managed to utter with your frail voice.

"Then why did you? Why did you get sick? Why did you think that I'd allow you to get sick? What makes you think that you can become this weak and unusable to me? What makes you think that you can leave me?" Tears would be poking the corners of his eyes, burning through his skin like wildfire, while his fists remained attached to your nightgown, clinging onto the fabric with all their might.

He lowered his head, he didn't want you to see him in such a state. Even in the darkest times, he always managed to bury his feelings deep within, turning them into indifference or frustration at worst. Talking about them? What a joke. As long as he could take it out on someone, then he was fine with it. Yet now, there was no one to take it out on, now it was just the two of you and all of the feelings that were scratching and biting his insides, threatening to tear his own body apart.

"I don't want to leave you, Sougo." This was as hard to you as it was to him. Besides, this was your life we are talking about. Hesitantly, you reached your hand onto his face, attempting to cup his cheek. His eyes widened in shock the second your fingers brushed his skin as he flinched away from your touch. This was the exact way his sister used to comfort him, this was just like that time at the hospital.

"Then don't! I'll never allow it, not in this life, not in the next life, not ever. You can't leave me because I won't let you, as your master. Save the sorry arguments for someone else, I'm having none of it." Before you could say anything, he was out of the door, his sword tight between his fingers, tears streaming all the way down to his chin, tears that you'd never get to see.

In the following days, although he'd still be infuriated, said anger would start to fade into sorrow and self pity. Sougo didn't need anyone to tell him that he was a bastard of a man, he was well aware of that on his own. Yet you'd done nothing wrong except of associating with someone like him. Even though he wasn't one to feel guilty over things, seeing how first his parents then his sister and now you were abandoning him one by one, he'd start to reflect it upon himself. That's right, it only makes sense for a piece of trash like me to be by myself, this was one of the many thoughts that he'd be forced to push away. He had no time for such meaningless things and he'd rather direct his anger at god, fate, destiny, even you, anyone that wasn't him.

He'd keep going to work as per usual, but your condition would be eating at him. He'd have trouble concentrating, barely keeping up with his comrades, his head too distracted with you for him to focus. That's when it started to dawn on him; perhaps in the process of having you serve him, he'd given you more meaning than he'd like to admit to himself. Perhaps you were more than his own personal slave, perhaps you were someone important, someone he'd go as far as to say he loved, even if said love was more like a need that burned through him, rather than a pure emotion to be cherished. For Sougo to admit such a thing to himself, he'd need a strong wake up call and your sickness was just about it.

Once he realized all that, he'd visit you again, requesting an extensive leave from the Shinsengumi, one that Kondo would happily issue. Although he wouldn't come rushing to you, embracing you with open arms to shower you with sweet words and affection, he'd made up his mind. He'd be there for you every step of the way, he wouldn't leave you so that you wouldn't leave him.

Sougo wouldn't be as open and affectionate to you as he was with his sister, but he'd take care of you. If you made a comment on it, he'd talk back at you, telling you not to mistake his gestures for interest or affection. It was an owner's responsibility to take care of their dog when they got sick, that's all.

For someone who viewed you as nothing more than an obligation, he surely took good care of you though. He'd bring you food, he'd buy you medicine and he'd make sure you were never left unattended. Besides, he wasn't doing it for your sake, he was doing it for him. As long as you were alive, he had someone to satisfy his needs and if that meant being your personal caregiver for some time then so be it.

For a while, his excessive caring seemed to have no results, something that would throw him into bigger dismay. He was expecting you to die in his arms at any given time, just like his sister had before you. He had no hopes for you, yet the idea of letting you go was so infuriating to him that he couldn't bear to think of it. And so, he clung onto you, clenching his claws around you as hard as possible, desperately keeping you to life with all he had.

He made sure to never cry in front of you, but if he was on his own perhaps a tear or two would fall. Only if your condition significantly worsened in front of him, would he perhaps be unable to hold back. You wanted to comfort him, to tell him not to worry, that he'd be fine even if you weren't there. That it was fine for him to give up, that it wasn't his fault but you knew that the second you tried to say anything, he'd force you to shut up, not taking a single word from you.

Only after a while, would you start showing the first signs of improvement. They were subtle; for example, you'd be able to utter more than a sentence at a time, or you could even reach the objects around you without help. Sougo was quick to notice that, allowing himself to feel actual hope for once. Perhaps this one time he wouldn't be left alone, perhaps he could even save you.

Slowly but surely, you started to regain your strength and before too long, you were even able to stand up, freely moving around the house. Sougo would continue helping you in elusive yet noticeable ways, even if you insisted you could manage on your own. He had to make sure you wouldn't relapse, that you really were fine.

Once the news of your improvement got out, he'd have to return to work and he'd soon fall back into his usual schedule. On the night before, you'd woken up to find him sleeping by your side, his hair covering his eyes as he'd leaned over your body, propping his head on top of his arms. Looking over his gentle features like that, you realized that maybe if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't even be there. You had never asked him for anything, loving him was good enough, yet for once, you could tell that the feeling had been mutual all along. The boy who refused to give you as much as a good word, was the very same boy who had saved you.

"Thank you for everything, Sougo." You tried your best to say in a low voice, your hand slowly reaching out to him, however that was enough to wake him up. Flinching from your touch, he looked at you with half closed eyelids.

"Huh? Do you need anything?"

"No, I'm fine."

"If you are fine, then don't wake me up like this, you lousy woman." And with that, he'd get back to sleep, a hint of a smile on his lips, the only sign of his evident relief.

A/N: OKAY FOR SOME REASON THIS TURNED OUT WAY BIGGER THAN THE OTHERS? Like I said, first time writing about him and I really wanted to flesh out my idea of him so that I could comfortably place him in such scenario. Sougo would be very caring and attentive if hi S/O was sick, but not in the same way he was towards his sister, his pride wouldn't let him. He is the type of person who'd feel more sad about his S/O condition in relation to his own self, like what their loss would ultimately mean to him, rather than their condition in relation his S/O, well, dying. Plus, this is Sougo we are talking about, he still is a little piece of shit at times :p HOPEFULLY THIS WAS ACCURATE-ish and if it was perhaps I can write more about our sadistic prince in the future, aye!

mikey im sad because i just rewatched catfa and steve used to get bullied so bad 💔 do u have any comforting thoughts/headcanons on the matter (or ones to hurt me more)

Hello, friend!!!

Okay, so I definitely think about this a lot, because I think it's often portrayed that Steve has a really thick skin and the bullying sort of... bounces off of him, and while he definitely is able to sort of lift his head above the noise, there's no way it doesn't impact him. Especially because it's affected him since such a young age.

Anyway, so I have this really visceral image of Steve, maybe eight or nine-- on the younger side. And he comes home from school with a split lip and light bruising around his cheekbone, head bowed and shoulders hunched up to his ears as he tries to make a beeline for his room, even as Sarah calls out to him to ask how his day was.

"Fine!" he calls, kicking off his shoes and making to scramble up the stairs.

Sarah peeks her head out from the kitchen, and Steve can hear her mixing something in a bowl where he has his back turned to her.

"Just fine?" she says, and Steve nods, still not turning around.

"Yep," he says quickly. "I'm gonna go up to my room. I wanna draw--" he's already making to take off up the stairs when Sarah clicks her tongue.

"Steven, come here a moment," she says. Steve freezes. "Steven..."

"Ma--"

"Steven, turn around." She sounds a little firmer now, and Steve has had a long day. He really doesn't want to make her mad on top of it.

Keeping his eyes downcast, he turns around, not lifting his head all the way. He doesn't want her to see-- or more, he doesn't want to see her see. He doesn't think he can handle the shame of it. Of his weakness plastered on his face.

Sarah lets out a little gasp, and then the bowl is being placed down on a nearby surface. A moment later, she's kneeling in front of him.

"Steven, oh honey, who did this to you?"

Steve shrugs, still not looking up.

"Darling, you need to tell me who hurt you like this," Sarah says, reaching up to cup his face. Steve flinches a little, and Sarah stops, heart cracking in her chest.

"Just some of the boys in the older classes," Steve mumbles. "It ain't a big deal, ma, I--" But he can't finish the sentence. It's a lie, anyhow, and Steve prides himself in being a fine liar, but never to his ma. It was a big deal-- is a big deal. At least, it feels big in his head. Big and painful and embarrassing, the way they'd pushed him to the ground and gotten real close and real loud and real mean. Calling him names he knows he's not allowed to repeat and sneering things that make his belly hurt enough for him to want to sick up. Tears fill his eyes and he sniffles real big, ducking his head.

"Oh, Steven," Sarah sighs, pulling him in for a hug. "Come here, darling."

And that's all it takes. Steve lets out a sob, curling into his ma's arms-- the safest place he knows. She holds him close, and Steve tries not to think about the way the bruises around his eyes ache as he cries.

"What's-- what's wrong with me, ma?" he sobs. "Am I really so bad?"

Sarah lets out a soft noise, hugging him tighter. "No, Steven, you're not bad. You're not bad; it's them who don't want to see all the good in you. And there is so much good inside of you-- so much that sometimes I'm worried it might fill up the whole world."

And Steve doesn't really believe that. He doesn't think someone so good could be so dirty all the way inside, but something tells him his ma doesn't wanna hear that. So he doesn't say it.

Instead, he curls closer, and the noise in his head quiets a little. His ma thinks he's good, and maybe that's all he needs.

Hi, I just read Forehead kisses and wanted to re-read Chasing Tomorrow. My simple question is do you have a backup of what you delete? More importantly why deprive the world of AFTG of such well written fics? Please bring them back 🙏😭

Yes, I have kept what I had written for chasing tomorrow and the two part I had planned afterward. I appreciate you so much for coming to ask about it and show your support. I honestly didn't think people would notice or care enough. While there is a tiny sliver of myself that believed the story just didn't matter to anyone else... the 'why' is really, really complicated.

The official answer is that... Objectively, it's not a very well-written story and I should have spent more time than I did to edit and piece each chapter together. Unfortunately, as I usually do with things I write (with very few exceptions) I began to hate it? Usually, even when I hate things, I don't delete them. But that combined with what little feedback received and a few weird bookmark notes a few people added, I felt uncomfortable leaving it up even as an orphaned story. I also deleted the other AFTG fics I had posted on AO3.

Every few weeks I consider going back to it, to fix it up and finish what I started because I still like the direction I went with it and the interpretation of canon I had planned, but something something seasonal depression. something something long personal story under the cut.

To summarize what's under the cut: I wrote Chasing Tomorrow to deal with a time in my life that was highly emotional and I'm not, currently, in the headspace to revisit or continue with Trusting Tomorrow and Tomorrow, After All (which would be the third post-canon continuation). I really, really do want to, though. Eventually, I will.

This is the sad bit so stop reading if you don't want to read about death, abuse (including sexual), and suicide mention in a long emotional ramble.

So I read AFTG for the first time in May of last year when I got COVID. It was a great distraction from being sick enough I couldn't move. I immediately was obsessed, actually.

Here's the thing, my family is kind of a fractured mess. I lived through poverty, homelessness, and abuse, physical, verbal, emotional, and even sexual. So I related to every single character (particularly andrew and neil, which is common, I think), on some level.

So this outrageous, messed up fucking story, meant a lot to me? As stupid as it sounds, I guess.

Anyways, here comes the sad part.

Literally the next week after I finished reading AFTG, my sister died. At the time, we didn't know what had happened to her and why she died so young-- she struggled with mental health and her disabilities a lot so everyone, even people I didn't know speculated it was suicide as she had attempted it before, more than once. I very nearly deleted my facebook because of the people who contacted me and things they said.

Less than two months later, my dad passed away, too. It was around this time that we finally learned how my sister had died as well. I wasn't on good terms with either my sister or father. I always put off making things right for many reasons. Pride, not enough time, exhaustion, the amount of emotional labor they both had always required, "if they wanted to fix things they would try" blahblahblah. I thought I had more time, see?

I became kind of obsessed with AFTG because well, outside of connecting with the characters, there's the whole motif of death and dying and meeting an inevitable end- not knowing if you have the power to change anything but trying your damnedest anyway, but accepting the worst outcome should it happen. It all seemed very profound to me at the time. And it was a distraction from all the emotions I was dealing with.

But, eventually emotions demand to be felt.

So in between those deaths, I began to write Chasing Tomorrow. It began as an exploration of grief and the burning desire to have changed something, anything, to prevent loss. It was a story that, I felt, was about love and the destruction it leaves behind when the person embodying it dies. About second, third, fourth chances to make things right. If there was a magical moment that could have fixed everything, about going back and not missing it that time.

When it was finished, I had no better understanding of what actually happened, of what I could have done, and what life will be like now without her. It was an outlet, but in the end I didn't get any satisfaction from it.

Writing it out now, and opening up about why I wrote it and what I thought it would do for me, I'm understanding exactly why I resent it now. It feels stupid, actually.

Hunter x Hunter fanfic

Title: In Bed

Main: Komugi&Meruem

Content: tears, touch, moonlight,

×-×-×-×-×

"You're going nowhere." He said with a heavy breathing.

"Komugi? Are you there?"

Komugi rised from her seat. She thought she could leave without waking him up. Did she perhaps wake him up because of her silly humming? It doesn't matter anymore. Her hesitation to move gave her away and her wrist was caught. There was no escaping the room.

"I said you're going nowhere! I've waited long enough."

"But... I don't want you to be like this." Komugi calmly said without any struggle.

"Don't I deserve this at least? I have always been looking-"

Meruem was cut off by the warmth of komugi's hands on his.

"I know." Komugi uttered in a soft voice. Then she continued on.

"You are strong-willed,Meruem, no doubt you'll come to me if you want to. Well... It's not like I've been anywhere. You might not believe it but I've waited for you these past two years."

Meruem squeezed her hands. The hands that Komugi would always wave around as she speak in a childish bubbly voice.

"I believe you. It's surprising that you're still thinking of me."

Komugi fidgeted around her and when she felt the bed, she seated herself beside him.

"Of course I do! Same with you, right? If it weren't so, then you wouldn't have sent Pitou to me. Youpi and Pouf wouldn't have brought me here even though it's against their wish."

"In all honesty, I don't deserve their loyalty. I've let them down."

"No! Don't say that! They are happy that you're relying on them and they take pride on that. I feel that it is so. And I owe them a lot."

"Then let them take pride while it lasts. Today might as well be-"

"Do you remember when I ran onto you and got my snot on you? My cold was so bad back then."

Meruem was taken aback by her sudden interruption, bringing up a memory that seemed like yesterday. It took him a second to speak.

"Yes. You looked awful. Walking around in circles when you don't have your cane and don't even know this place well enough. You were trying to find the restroom even though you're staying in a private ward."

"I'm embarrassed! But I can't do anything about it anyway. I just can't even do the simplest things like blowing my nose properly."

"It's okay. I always wipe it for you anyway. I wish I could continue to do so. What a shame. No more night walks in the botanical garden for us."

"I'm sorry. I should have come a week earlier. Then maybe we could have done so one more time."

"Don't apologize. I don't need it. Besides, I'm not in condition for some time already."

"But still..." Komugi uttered in a choked voice.

"It's alright. We can't go on a walk but at least we have this bed. You're here. That's enough."

Komugi felt a hand on her head.

"I asked the nurse to draw open the curtains so I can see the night sky even from here." Meruem said while stroking komugi's hair.

"So what do you see right now?"

"The moon is out. It's so bright, it makes your hair glow."

"Really?"

"I said so."

They both fell silent. Then a few moments later, Komugi felt tissue on her nose. Meruem wiped off her snot.

"Meruem."

"What?"

"Thank you."

"I just wiped your nose, that's all." Replied Meruem.

"Thank you for being so nice to me. I-I... I..."

She didn't hold back any longer. Komugi started crying. Surprised by this sudden outburst, Meruem asked what's wrong with her.

"I can't thank you enough for everything!" Answered Komugi while still crying.

"Komugi..."

All her life she gave her all to keep afloat in a society so twisted, even her family barely regarded her as a human. The sole companion she had was the Gungi board and its chips. It has always been so until she met Meruem. Meeting someone at last who doesn't make her feel inferior and willing to hear her out.

"Maybe... people see me as a nuisance. I'm sad that my siblings don't want to take care of me and always leave me in the hospital whenever I get sick. My rivals want to take out disabled players just to get rid of me. I was able to endure all of it because I don't want to cause trouble to others. I don't want to say bitter things but... it seems that without my fame and reputation, everyone will see me as a garbage who can't even compare to other blind people!"

"Those people are far more useless! Your ungrateful family doesn't realize you gave them a comfortable life when their own toil is not even enough. And your incompetent rivals do not deserve to fight you."

"I'm so happy, Meruem. And sorry that I'm your company tonight."

"No, I'm sorry. I can't watch you play anymore. I want to see you take a ten-year win streak. But as much as I wanted to-"

Meruem couldn't finish his sentence and had to catch his breath. Although he is sitting upright, he felt like he's being pushed in deep water. He breathed heavily. Komugi pressed Meruem's head to lean on her shoulder.

"I don't want to die." Meruem uttered, his voice filled with hopeless yearning.

He glanced at the moon outside and back at Komugi. Everything that he was before they met and the present they're living occupied his mind. He felt that something somewhere has changed ever so slightly which led to this moment. He couldn't pinpoint the words or action that made the difference. It was way too long before he knew it had begun.

"Komugi."

"Yes?"

"Let's stay like this... and..."

"Hm?"

"Can you hold my hand?"

"Okay."

Komugi enclosed Meruem's hand in hers. She is both happy and sad at the same time. But she's never felt as desperate like this before. Not even her toughest matches in Gungi has shaken her as bad as this.

As she squeezed his hand lightly, she thought for once that maybe losing the next tournament doesn't sound so bad at all.

×-×-×-×-×

fin~