#i had left it sitting somewhere perfectly fine and normal

[fartjokeenjoyer]

pics from when i first started working on my custom last summer lol. i had never done a custom on a mechanical furby so i was having too much fun with the skin... FOR THE RECORD i was not the person who hung it up on a clothing hanger serial-killer style, that was my mom's crime 😭

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 15

Naruto Uzumaki + First time

I have never finished Naruto, and I haven’t watched a single episode of boruto. Take this as like, only vaguely placed somewhere in canon, post the war.

Reader is an Aburame, since I am so fascinated by their insects. So… warning for insects inside the body for the reader. I love Shino a lot, so its also because of that.

2024 kinktober masterlist

Naruto had a hard time remembering when you two even started dating. He was friends with Shino, yeah, but you weren’t even from the main family, instead you were just Shinos cousin. He brought you along on missions, and you helped during the war because of your extreme skill, and the mutation in your bugs. You spoke even less than Shino did, but the mutation in your beetles made you feel almost pleasant to be around for someone with as much chakra as Naruto.

Most of the time, Naruto did all the talking, with you just standing or sitting near him, nodding along whenever the conversation called for it. You wore shades like the rest of your family, and a long coat, with a hood and a high collar, barely leaving a sliver of skin visible. This was also why Naruto got so excited the first time you went without your coat around him.

It took him way too long to realize he had feelings, but it had started early enough that it just didn’t feel right marrying Hinata or stringing her along. At the time Naruto had no idea why he felt what he did, but he was an honest guy, so it felt wrong to keep doing that to her.

For you it also took an embarrassingly long time. You picked up his scent of arousal or animalistic interest, yeah, but to you that didn’t register in your brain as something that meant anything. It was a normal human function, so there was no need to act.

The insects inside your body had picked up on it far before either of you did, multiple of them regularly leaving your body to hang around Naruto. It wasn’t even just to feed on his powerful chakra that they had come to love, but just to be around him. They had lived inside you since you were a baby, so it was no shock that they evolved to have the same taste as you at least.

Shino had also started glancing at you, along with the rest of the clan after a while. They didn’t need their heightened senses to feel Narutos powerful chakra left on you, or to pick up the strong scent of the blonde since you two would cuddle “as friends”. You knew it had to be bad when your clan of all people started trying to have a conversation with you about it, which you perfectly ignored and avoided.

Unknown to you or Naruto, bets started hanging in the air in your friend group. How could it not, when it was so obvious you two had some kind of thing for the other. Though, it was so much easier to see on Naruto, since you were even harder to read than most of your clan.

In the end, your shared friend group, though they were more Narutos than yours, had to put together a plan to get you two partnered up. They couldn’t put up with Narutos sighing and gushing anymore, and your clan was starting to grow antsy with how much your colony just seemed to grow because of your welling feelings. And, nobody else would be able to tell, but they were also growing tired of your pining.

Them sending you two off to a bathhouse together was kinda dumb. It was supposed to be some “information gathering mission” just the two of you, but in reality, it was just an excuse to shove you two together in a hotel room. The attached bathhouse immediately had Narutos attention, who dragged you along, since there were private baths.

Like most Aburame, you felt uncomfortable with your body. You were covered almost from head to toe in scars, and not just from battles, but from the colony of insects buzzing inside your body. That was also another reason you didn’t go to bathhouses a lot, you didn’t want to drown your colony. There was a familiar feeling of them closing up pathways as you got into the steamy room though, so it was probably fine.

Of course, your shares were still on as you two washed down to get ready for the hot pool of water, you oblivious to the fact that the flush on Narutos face was from more than just the heat. You weren’t much better, of course. How could you, when Naruto was completely naked beside you, not caring to close his legs or anything as you washed soap off your bodies. So, when you were sure he wasn’t looking, you let your eyes wander, just a little.

Neither of you wrapped a towel back around your hips before walking to the pool, Naruto sighing loudly as you both got in. it was nice, even if you could feel the insects inside your body scuttling deeper and bunching up somewhere inside your chest to get as far away from the water as possible.

Naruto was rambling like always, looking more handsome than usual, if that was even possible. Talking about the mission, what he was gonna do when you guys got back to the village, whatever gossip he had heard, so on and so forth. His lips were so inviting and flush, like he had been chewing at them without much thought.

You had no idea what compelled you to lean over and place a soft careful peck on his lips. You had no experience, people didn’t typically line up to sleep with the guy filled with bugs, did they. It helped that you knew Naruto didn’t have any either, outside of some kisses with Hinata, but they’d never gone anywhere below the belt.

Naruto just stared at you with wide blinking eyes, speechless for once as he seemed to struggle understanding what had just happened. “I… apologize. That was… rude of me” you mumble out, your voice raspy from disuse and the fact that beetles had carved pathways through your throat a while ago. You were almost able to climb out of the pool, shame curling in your gut, but you found yourself falling back into the water with a loud splash as Naruto lunged, dragging you back down.

“I- don’t leave! I-I liked it!” Naruto cried out, voice cracking as he almost scrambled into your lap to straddle you, his blue eyes boring into your through your shades, which miraculously stayed on somehow. “I want… lets do it again” the blonde exhaled loudly, grabbing your face and mashing his lips against yours with as little experience as you had kissed him before.

Your hands buzzed as they rose to lay on his hips, and it wasn’t from the beetles for once, but instead nerves and excitement. The kiss wasn’t much of a kiss, it was more just mashing lips and tongues together, teeth clacking and biting one another on accident. Naruto had very sharp canines, causing minor cuts when you pushed your tongue against them. You could feel the colony inside you buzzing, suddenly very interested in tasting Narutos blood, but you kept them down with chakra. No need to freak Naruto out like that.

As your lips parted, your shades were crooked, both your hair messy and a string of spit hung from the tips of your tongues, connecting you in yet another way. Naruto rubbed his hardness against the panes of your stomach, chewing at his lip with those sharp teeth of his, his pupils blown so wide it almost swallowed up the blue. You were just as hard, twitching whenever his ass dragged back against it, blood and chakra rushing through the pathways in your body.

“N-Naruto. We can’t just… we have to be prepared for this” you gasp out, trying to adjust your shades as Naruto snickers, looking half embarrassed and half like a fox, like the one sealed inside him. “Pervy-sage told me about this stuff, I know what im doing” he boasted, hooking three of his own fingers inside his mouth to start coating them in his own spit.

You weren’t sure you two should listen to Jirayas advice, when it came to this. But you had even less knowledge. For you, the birds and the bees had been explained in complete scientific terms and details, and had mostly focused on the results and how to do it safely, if he ever got the chance.

Watching Naruto raise his hips out the water and truly focus on the task of opening himself up was maddening, your nostrils flaring as you had to catch your breath. There was a twinge in his brow as he added more fingers before he was ready, but he was so hard and throbbing that he was dripping into the pool of water. You guys would probably be billed for that later…

Naruto worked himself open much too quickly, but he didn’t seem to care very much, removing his fingers from his hole as he grabbed for your dick, your very sensitive dick, mind you. it made a guttural gasp leave your chest, hands grabbing onto his hips as Naruto snickered again. “You ready, bugboy?” he giggled, that broad grin on his lips.

The nickname was enough to make you grumble, but it had served its purpose of distracting you long enough for Naruto to push his hips down, both of you groaning. You because of the sudden tightness around you, and Naruto from the stretch and fullness. But Naruto Uzumaki was never the type to give up, so he slowly worked himself all the way down, even as you tried to gasp out words for him to slow down for his own good.

Naruto was shivering slightly as he finally bottomed out, his eyes wet and shiny as he gave you a wobbly gummy smile, his face flushed all the way down to his chest. “S-see? I could do it” he gasped, jolting as your cock pressed accidentally against his prostate.

It was impossible to talk as you tried your hardest not to explode right then and there. You would have been worried about bruising him, if you didn’t know Naruto was more sturdy than you were. Lurching forwards, you buried your face into his neck, shuddering and panting to try and keep yourself at bay, eyes fluttering under your shades as Naruto hugged onto you.

“It-its okay, we can both… we can both just cum” Naruto rambled, voice wobbly in a way you weren’t used too. He was still throbbing against your torso, his length gushing out clear shiny fluid as Naruto tried his best to rock his hips. There was no finesse or technique, but neither of you needed much of that.

“W-wait Naruto, ill- I can’t hold it” you pant, eyes clenching shut under your shades as you pant against his skin, feeling your balls draw up as you spill inside him, your insides buzzing from a mixture of euphoria, and the colony feeding on the influx of hormones and chakra. The blonde let out a noise that sounded like his normal glowing chuckle, only for it to melt into a shaky drawn-out moan, Naruto spurting against your torso and his own.

You two sat there for a while, simply shuddering and holding one another as you tried your hardest to collect yourselves again, and register what had just happened. It had been a whole new experience, something new and unknown, but still so good.

It was only when you could feel the colony inside you growing sluggish and slow that you knew you two had to move. The hot water was starting to become too much, and your fingers were getting wrinkled. “Naruto… we gotta get up” you mumble against his shoulder, only getting a soft mumble in return. He sounded sleepy already, but Naruto did lift himself up after a while.

You could feel blood rush downwards against as Naruto crawled out of the pool, making it obvious your spend with dripping out of him. The choked noise you let out made Naruto glance back at you, shooting you a grin before he shuffled off towards the baths again. That minx, or should you say fox? He had probably picked that up from that pervy-sages’ books…

With a huff, you let a small smile pull at your lips as you crawl out of the pool as well, sliding your shades off as you walk past your pile of clothes. The colony should do better in a running shower and some cold water, you were sure Naruto wouldn’t mind finding warmth in another way.

[arcandoria]

Prompt: Armor

for Veilguard30, featuring Alythess Cousland and Alistair Theirin

It doesn’t sit right.

Of course it wouldn’t – not like tailored armor would. The tasset is almost too big for her, and as such she has to compensate for the weight by buckling the straps tightly. The leather digs into her hips, and even though it’s simply uncomfortable now, it was going to chaff tremendously later, especially if she had to wear this for too long.

And by the way smoke filled her lungs alongside the stench of death and decay coming from the Wilds where the darkspawn waited for them, she was going to wear it for a long time.

She was a Grey Warden now, not Alythess Cousland.

There were no more tailored armor sets with perfectly fitting pieces that minded her size and frame. Her own set of armor - a gift on her 18th birthday - had been left behind amidst the burning stones of Highever.

She looks down to the weapons laid in front of her. They’d given her two new swords, but she’d handed one back. Sure, she was a Grey Warden now, not Alythess Cousland. But she will still carry her family’s sword from now on.

Alythess senses him before he’s close — and assumes he’s able to do the same. It’s weird, so incredibly weird, and she knows that the bile and darkness crawling inside her now is responsible for it, but she is just fresh from the joining, and sensing the people around her is still unsettling.

“Sorry to hurry you up, but the king is waiting and all that.” Alistair says from somewhere behind her. “How’s the armor?”

It’s too big. The leather straps dig into her hips and ribs. It’s going to chaff eventually.

“It’s fine.” She answers, her voice even as she works the last few straps and buckles.

The other Warden hums behind her, and she assumes he’s nodding.

“What about you? Are you— you know, alright?”

There’s death crawling inside her. There’s been death crawling inside her since Highever burned and she had to turn her back on it. It’s stuck in her throat, thick.

“I’m fine.” Her voice comes off the same.

“Right… We’ll be waiting for you then.”

He doesn’t sound concerned. The correct word might be disappointed. 

Alistair had been trying, at least, to make things sound and feel normal. He knew how much it wasn’t, but maybe because he was the most recent addition before her own, he felt bad about her state. Or maybe he was just that compassionate - she had to believe there were still people like this in the world. She couldn’t allow Howe to taint how she saw everyone from now on.

She breathed.

“Alistair?”

He’d already turned to leave, a few steps away from the armory corner she’d been using to don her armor.

“Yes?”

“It’s a bit too big and the straps can’t sit in the right place, and I can’t adjust them properly on my own. Can you help?” She half-twisted to face him over her shoulder.

His face lit up, and Alythess controlled the urge to roll her eyes, or smirk, or both.

“Oh, right! Of course. Shame we can’t make these universal sizes, huh?” He’d walked up to her then, hesitating awkwardly at first to touch the straps badly fastened against her ribs, before starting to help out with them. “Although I guess you might just be too small.”

She shot him an annoyed glance that was almost convincing, before quipping back. “I suppose they needed me at a disadvantage so you don’t get too embarrassed when we’re fighting.”

[noroi1000]

Honored One shot no.3 - @yukiji7w7

”Home date with Toru and Sugu”

Satoru and Suguru are planning a surprise date for you at the House.

Light purple shows feelings. It is for tenderness, nostalgia and romance.

So when you looked straight into Suguru's violet eyes, you felt that proposal for a romantic evening you were supposed to experience with them

His face close to yours as he leaned down so his eyes were level with yours.

"So again, I'm supposed to get Satoru's credit card, go to the store, and buy all the food I want? Snacks?" you asked.

"Yeah. That's how it's supposed to be. Just buy whatever you want." He handed you a black credit card he was holding between his two fingers.

"Wait, are you going to get rid of me so I'm not home?" You crossed your arms over your chest.  "Normally, Satoru would run to the store to buy a whole shelf of candy."

"You choose today. But I can go with you if you want." He kissed your forehead tenderly.

You thought about going with him... But then you thought that Satoru would be home alone. And he's been having weird ideas since morning. Like he wanted to steal all your clothes so you could wear them. Or he would run after you when you went somewhere just to smile stupidly at you.

It was a bit suspicious. Even though he often did it for no reason.

However, today it was a little different.

Why don't you go alone and leave Suguru to watch over him?

You don't want to go home and see Satoru doing something weird.

Life with them is lovely. Especially with these ideas. However, sometimes you are afraid of what they will do.

Once, Satoru jumped on Suguru because he wanted to sit on his shoulders.

It ended up hitting his forehead against the chandelier.

Geto - very high.

Gojo - slightly taller than Geto.

So when these two heights were combined, they could hit the ceiling without a problem.

When he fell to the floor, taking the dark-haired man with him, you only saw him holding his hands on his forehead with a grimace.

If it were possible, you would surely see a tear appear on his glasses.

But glasses can't cry...

But he can perfectly pretend he's in pain.

All day you sat with his head in your lap, putting cold compresses on his forehead. And then you gently stroked his forehead, even though I'm sure he wasn't hurt. After that, he didn't hurt anymore.

Because your fingers kept stroking his forehead and he fell asleep...

It was cute, but you couldn't get up. Only then did Suguru help you, taking off the white-haired man from you.

He arranged it for you to take care of him.

Now what have they planned?

You couldn't know until you checked it out.

"Fine. I'll go shopping. But tell me what you're going to do." You stabbed his chest with your index finger.

"It's a secret." He ran his fingers over his lips as if he had fastened a zipper.

"If you don't want to tell me, I'll go to Shoko's after shopping. You will not be offended by me. okay?"

"Nope... You don't go to Shoko, you just come home." His hands wrapped around your waist.

You blushed slightly at how close Suguru was to your face.

"Why?"

His mouth suddenly appeared next to your ear.

"Because we have plans for you, baby~."

Suguru's voice echoed in your mind even as you walked through the aisles of the store.

And that sent shivers down your spine. Pleasant shivers that let you feel that even their voices have a big influence on your behavior. And on your body.

You took whatever you wanted to eat.

And you were curious about what strange things they are thinking about now.

Because they invented something.

You were afraid of what the devil they could come up with...

Your boys are crazy...

While you left, they were freaking out at home, running around in circles.

But they wanted to do everything to make it all work out the way they wanted.

For you to come into the house and suddenly look at everything in amazement.

To make your cheeks play pink and your eyes to have that glow they want to see.

So when they heard the front door open, they ran around.

They heard your voice when you called them. And they were just waiting for you to open your bedroom door.

To show you the romantic peace that will be so beautiful to you.

This will be the perfect home date you've had anytime soon.

"Sugu! Toru! Where are you?!"

You heard a knock in your room.

And you went there immediately.

You hoped you wouldn't see anything weird there...

You gripped the handle and it opened so easily without any rustling on the other side.

The curtains in the room were drawn, and the room was pleasantly lit by small candles in decorative glass containers and two bedside lamps next to the bed.

When you glanced at the bed, you saw Satoru in a white shirt half-buttoned as he lay on his side with his hand under his head.

Next to him sat a relaxed Suguru in a black shirt. The buttons were also unbuttoned halfway. And his sleeves were rolled up.

You blushed slightly at the sight of their chests in that warm light.

"Welcome home. How was your shopping?" The white-haired man asked with a smile.

"Did you send me for snacks so you could prepare this?" You asked, watching the lack of change in their faces.

"What's wrong with wanting to surprise our girlfriend?" Suguru asked.

"Nothing wrong with that.... That's sweet of you..."

"Aren't you curious what we're going to do?" Gojo asked. A mischievous smile on his lips.

Did they mean THIS?

The room was so romantically decorated. Candles and a nicely made bed. They were so handsomely dressed. was it for you?

That's really nice of them.

They made you a date at home.

However, you wonder if they are planning something. Something that is different from what you see now.

Will it be related to their appearance?

Suddenly, Satoru stood up and walked over to you, standing behind you.

His hands on your shoulders as he turned to face him and kissed you.

"Relax. This is what you like."

You blushed slightly, and you know you can be thankful that the room is darker.

Your back hit the soft mattress.

Satoru's lips pressed against yours for a moment, then he stood up, standing next to the TV.

Since when do you have a TV in the room?

"Honey, you have to tell us something now. It's for you, but the choice is yours."

He bent down to look at you again.

You were very curious about what's next.

"Do you prefer to play Pokemon or Mario?"

You looked at him questioningly.

The tension in the air disappeared when he asked about the game.

You loved playing video games.

But they just wanted to play with you?

With a groan, you chose Mario.

"Did you expect something else, baby?" You heard Satoru's voice against your neck.

"I like to play. It's a nice date. Thank you." You said with a smile as you controlled your character with the gamepad so that you won.

"You think we dressed like that just for the game?" Geto said.

"This is just a warm-up for the highlight of the evening."

"H-Hey!" You groaned as hands appeared in front of your eyes. "It's not fair!"

"You won't need eyes for that." Suguru chuckled.

"Did you know that a massage when your eyes are covered gives you more sensations?"

[yandere-wishes]

I don't think I'm neurodivergent but there is this phenomenon called maladaptive daydreaming. It's usually developed from a very young age by children who were bullied or bored, usually both. It's not classified as a mental illness but if it goes unchecked it can actually interfere with your life, so it should be managed.

One time when my parents were home I spent a good 9 hours just sitting on the couch, listening to music and swaying left right, left right, just making up scenarios. I didn't eat or go to the bathroom at all during those 9 hours. I was horrified when I saw how much had passed because it did NOT feel like it was that much.

Ana, the reason it's taken me 2 whole weeks to answer this is because you have utterly and wholly terrorized me. I relate to this so hard. 😭😭

quick question, did you have headphones on? And where you listening to new songs or your fav songs? Cause I can kinda get getting lost in a trance to new or fav songs and lose track of time dreaming of a perfect life. Still, nine hours is a LONG time. I'm surprised your parents didn't interfere. My parents see me doing anything "unproductive" for more than an hour and automatically they find something for me to do (usually some sort of chore our study topic) 😭🤣😭🤣

the thing with me is that I don't think I ever really stop daydreaming. It's never even at the back of my head either, it's always somewhere in the forefront no matter what I'm doing. Like some super normal thing will be happening and my brain just automatically goes "Okay here's a list of 10+ scenarios that could simultaneously be happening right now." You'd be surprised how many of those scenarios include fictional characters and my obvious need for real human interactions. Then before I know it I've completely lost track of what was/is happening in class.

That's also why I kinda need to associate what I'm studying with some sort of fictional media "theme" so 1) I can actually motivate myself to study and 2) even if I do black out and start daydreaming there's this little lifeline that can kinda drag me back.

I don't really think I'm neurodivergent either (although lately, I think that ADHD may be the explanation for a lot of things I do). I can't say I had the best childhood. Home life was perfectly fine, my dad was strict but my family was very loving. But I was bullied a lot in school. From elementary to middle school. I guess that's why I'm so obsessed with fictional characters. Because with them I can feel like I belong. I'm free to make up scenarios where everything is fine. Sorry, this got super sappy. 😣😆😣

On the bright side, I can now add "maladaptive daydreaming" as part of my skills in my resume 🤣🤣

[wuahae]

congrats on 1k!!!!!!!!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 i was wondering if I could propose: seungcheol + 12:17am + the swings at the park down the street? hope you have a great day!!!

[00:17] / swings at the park down the street

-

the night air sits a little chilly on seungcheol's skin, his t-shirt and jeans not doing much to keep the warmth on an september night. if he looked on the bright side, seungcheol supposes it's a good thing the alcohol comfortably buzzing in his system lets the cold turn into more of a cool breeze, but on the other hand...

"cheol, i think the world stopped spinning!"

seungcheol sighs, turning his head to you. you turn back to him, eyes shining bright as you lean your head on the swing chain. his jacket runs a little too big on you, the ends of the sleeves covering your palms as you hold onto the swing. "do you wanna go for round 2?"

"we have to go home," he chides, exasperated.

"oh relax," you wave off, pushing up the sleeve to take a good look at your empty wrist. "it's only um... 11:00! live a little!"

seungcheol whips his phone out, the time on the lockscreen glaring at full brightness. "it's midnight."

you pout, kicking the bark beneath your feet sullenly. your right heel comes flying off, landing somewhere between the park bench and the see-saw. "lame..."

seungcheol gives you a flat look, making a mental note to pick up your shoe before you leave the park. “you barely made it out of the karaoke bar in one piece, and you want to go for a round 2?”

“well i’m here, aren’t i? perfectly fine and normal!”

“really? what street are we on.”

"you know i'm bad with directions!"

he resists the urge to run a hand down his face. the only reason seungcheol even agreed to coming to the college mixer with you is because he knew you wouldn't fare well if left on your own. the last time you went out drinking, you threw up in the bushes a couple feet behind the street vendor, and the time before that, you'd drunk-dialed him at 3:00AM in tears, and when he managed to get out of the house wearing mismatching flip-flops ready to find you, your friends had managed to grab the phone from you and tell him that you were only crying over a stray cat that wouldn't bother to give you the time of day.

and of course, he was there for you both times, and all the times before that, which only meant that he needed to be there for you this time too. (seungcheol tries not to think about the implications of that statement for too long, otherwise he'll start feeling as stupid as jeonghan's judgemental looks tell him he is.)

you narrow your eyes, waggling your finger at him. "so are you gonna tell me about it?"

"about what?"

"the mixer!" you exclaim. "i saw nayoung making googly-eyes at you the whole time. did you get her number?"

seungcheol pauses. "who?"

you throw your hands in the air, exasperated. "um, lee nayoung? literally every guy in our year would pay to get her to even look at them for five seconds, and she was looking at you all night. for free!"

frowning, seungcheol tilts his head. “doesn’t ring a bell.”

you lean back on the swing, and seungcheol readies himself in case you lose balance and fall backwards. "you're so hopeless, cheol. i keep inviting you to these things cause everyone keeps calling you painfully single, but we end up having this conversation every time. isn't there anyone you like?"

yeah, he bites his tongue. you.

he could say it. he could say it right now. maybe if he said it, then it would be like ripping off a bandaid. quick—not quite painless, but it had to be better than existing in this weird limbo where he's the first one you call when you're drunk and you're the first person he thinks of telling when anything good in his life happens. if he said it, no matter the result, at least he wouldn't have to keep it a secret anymore. at least you would know.

but instead, seungcheol says:

"it's late. we need to go back."

there's a brief pause, one where you shift in your swingseat and the cold metal presses against the skin of his palms as he wrestles with the weight of everything he's squashed down inside him, yet again.

“…can we at least get fishcakes on our way home?" you ask, and you at least have the decency to sound a little sheepish about it.

your shoulder moves slightly, jacket slipping off your shoulder. seungcheol sighs, walking over to adjusting it, before zipping it up fully. it would only get colder through the night. he really was an idiot.

"yeah. the usual?"

[bloody-bee-tea]

Tiny Bee~k 2023 Day 7 - Stillness

Cyno feels restless when he returns to Sumeru, almost bordering on being jittery. The mission had been a failure, though through no fault of his own—he could hardly be blamed for the researcher he was pursuing blowing himself up with barrels he wanted to use on Cyno—but things like that always weigh on Cyno’s mind.

And they tend to make him restless which the repeated flexing of his hand is a testament to.

Still, Cyno tries to push it out of his mind; he has to report back to Alhaitham since Nahida—who he now normally reports to, is away with the Traveler—and after that he can finally crash in his home.

Some sleep will do him good, he hopes, even though he doubts he will get much of it.

When he steps into Alhaitham’s office, he supresses a sigh. Alhaitham is currently in a somewhat heated debate it seems and Cyno knows just how much he hates it when those get interrupted. And especially for something like Cyno’s report, which absolutely can wait a moment longer.

Cyno sees Alhaitham’s eyes briefly dart over to him, so he knows he has been noticed, but just a second later Alhaitham focuses back on the scholar standing in front of his desk.

Cyno finds a seat for himself somewhere to Alhaitham’s left, intend on waiting this whole thing out, and even though curiosity gets the better of him, he has a hard time following along what is being said.

It seems as if Cyno is more tired than he thought because his eyes keep closing and every time it happens, getting them open again is harder than the time before.

Cyno tries to filter out the voices, simply concentrating on the cadence of their speech but even that lulls him to sleep.

There is just something about Alhaitham, Cyno distantly thinks. Something about the way he talks, the way he acts that seems calming to Cyno.

Or maybe it simply is the otherwise stillness of the office, he immediately thinks after, refusing to believe that Alhaitham could have any kind of affect on him beyond annoying him.

He smirks at his own thought and then he knows nothing for a while.

“Cyno?”

At hearing his voice Cyno jolts—not awake, because he hasn’t been asleep, thank you very much, but out of whatever kind of trance he had found himself in.

“I know you generally look with disdain at researches but I didn’t think we were this boring to you,” Alhaitham says, a teasing smile playing around his mouth and Cyno blinks two times before he fully finds back to himself.

“It’s just been a long day,” he explains, not rising to Alhaitham’s teasing and finally gets up, ready to give Alhaitham his report and then go home to crash.

The fact that he lays awake in his own bed for hours, is of course not puzzling at all.

~*~*~

Cyno finds himself back in Alhaitham’s office a few days later. Sleep at home still evades him and even though Alhaitham made that quip the last time he was there, Cyno graduated from the Akademiya as well and he knows how to test a hypothesis.

So he sits in Alhaitham’s office without offering any kind of explanation and can’t even feel smug when he does doze off not even five minutes in.

He startles awake when the elevator starts to whir to life and he comes to to curious eyes mustering him.

“Are you alright?” Alhaitham wants to know and Cyno pushes himself to his feet.

If he is receiving someone right now then Cyno should probably leave.

“Perfectly fine,” he gives back and the arch of Alhaitham’s eyebrow tells him exactly how much he believes Cyno.

Cyno refuses to explain himself though, still too unsure about the entire thing—and especially about how he’s supposed to put it into words—and so he simply gets on the elevator as soon as it comes to a stop, not even greeting whoever gets off it.

~*~*~

Cyno still doesn’t sleep at home, and so he finds himself in the matra office a day later. If it works in Alhaitham’s office, then it surely has to work in this office as well, right?

It’s probably the shuffling of paper or the scrape of a quill that has the relaxing effect on Cyno, so he should be able to doze off in another office no problem.

The matra office doesn’t work. Cyno moves on to the office of the temporary Scribe, thinking that maybe there’s just too much happening in the matra office. But even the office of the Scribe doesn’t work and Cyno only partially blames it on how nervous he seems to make the other man.

But that leaves him only with Alhaitham’s office, where he finds himself back at a day later.

Cyno is loathe to admit it, but he steps into the huge, open space and something in him immediately relaxes. Alhaitham acknowledges him with a nod of his head, not taking his eyes off the paper he’s currently studying and Cyno seats himself in his by now usual seat.

Alhaitham doesn’t seem bothered by his presence at all and Cyno takes the chance to observe him for a while. He’s still not entirely sure what it is about this entire set-up that makes him so relaxed, but by now he has to admit that Alhaitham has to play a role in it.

He’s simply reading over something and yet Cyno feels as if he could instantly drift off; the sight of Alhaitham being so still and yet doing his job is getting to him in a way Cyno can’t explain.

His mind starts to wander as he watches Alhaitham, and he’s slowly starting to nod off when Alhaitham suddenly puts the paper in his hand down.

“Have I done something to attract your suspicion lately?” Alhaitham asks and even though it should be startling Cyno right awake, he’s still slow to come back to himself.

“Why would you think so?” he finally asks when he can form coherent thoughts again and Alhaitham gives him a judging look.

“You’ve been in my office numerous times this week; never saying anything, just staring at me before leaving again. Am I under surveillance?”

“You never said anything before either,” Cyno gives back, still a little bit surprised at how easily Alhaitham has let him into his space even though it is his official office.

“But I am now,” Alhaitham gives back, abandoning his frankly unnecessary large throne that serves him as a office chair to come over to Cyno. “You look tired. Has something happened? Do you need some time off?”

Cyno gives that question some proper thought; he is tired but even if Alhaitham manages to give him some time off, he doubts he could sleep at home. It’s much more likely that he’ll find himself back in this office even more often and that would only raise more questions for Alhaitham.

Questions, Cyno is still not sure he has the answers to.

“No, it’s alright,” Cyno finally gives back and Alhaitham doesn’t even pretend to believe him.

“It’s clearly not.”

His searching gaze makes Cyno uneasy, so he decides to change the topic when the elevator starts it’s ominous whir again.

“Despite what you always claim, you’re awfully welcoming to everyone entering your office.”

“It’s hard to slam the door in someone’s face in this godforsaken, doorless office,” Alhaitham drily gives back and it startles a chuckle out of Cyno.

“Fair,” he gives back and then gets to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it then.”

Alhaitham seems as if he wants to say something else, but before he can Cyno already slipped away.

~*~*~

Cyno still refuses to believe that it is Alhaitham of all people who manages so easily to put him at ease, so he enters his office on a day he knows Alhaitham is out and about.

The office is quiet—just like before but something about it is off. Cyno feels restless in it, and even though he sits in the same chair as always, he can’t quite seem to settle down that day.

He heaves out a sigh.

It’s Alhaitham, then, Cyno finally has to admit that to himself. He spends one afternoon debating if that changes anything for him, if that knowledge will stop him from going back now, but in the end he has to admit that he suspected it from the beginning, so there’s no need to change anything.

It seems as if he’s the only one who thinks so, though, because when he returns to the office—this time with Alhaitham in it—just a day later, his chair is gone.

“What have you done?” Cyno turns betrayed eyes on Alhaitham, who simply regards him with an amused air around him.

“I didn’t think you’d be so attached to that one chair,” he mildly says and then pats the space right next to him.

“What?” Cyno asks, because surely Alhaitham cannot mean what he thinks he means but Alhaitham simply holds his gaze and repeats the motion.

Cyno’s feet—the traitors—bring him closer to Alhaitham’s hideous throne, but he doesn’t have to be happy about it and he conveys that with a glare. At least he hopes he does.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demands to know once he comes to a stop right in front of Alhaitham and he gets the distinct impression that Alhaitham wants to roll his eyes at him.

“You’re exhausted and you need to sleep. For some reason you come to my office for that but being slumped over in that chair really can’t be good. Here is better. You can lean against the back, curl up against the armrest or even lean on me. It should make you sleep better.”

Cyno opens his mouth, definitely wanting to say something, but nothing at all comes out. The thing is—Alhaitham is right. The chair is killing him—and his back, and neck—and the stupid throne has enough space for Alhaitham to work and Cyno to curl up in a corner.

It is the better option and Cyno hates that Alhaitham is pointing it out.

“Not a word about this to anyone,” Cyno hisses as he gets on the way-too-large throne, pressing himself into the corner to Alhaitham’s left.

Alhaitham’s mouth twitches and Cyno is very well aware how stupid his words are. Everyone who enters this office must have noticed the General Mahamatra drifting off here, and if they haven’t before, they most certainly will now, with him being right behind Alhaitham.

Still, Cyno can’t find it in him to mind it much, the sweet promise of some uninterrupted sleep too great for him to refuse this offer.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, shortly before he drifts off that day, and the only indication that Alhaitham heard him is the small pause in his writing.

Cyno is long asleep when Alhaitham whispers “You’re more than welcome.”

~*~*~

Cyno refuses to think about how he ends up with his head pillowed on Alhaitham’s leg while the other is doing his work, but this is the position he finds himself in most these days.

It does help with the pain in his back and neck and Alhaitham’s hand on his shoulder when he writes something or his hand in his hair when he reads something is a type of comfort Cyno never thought he’d find for himself.

When he mentioned this to Tighnari a while back, his friend had laughed long and hard at him before he sat him down and explained Cyno’s own feelings to him. And it wasn’t as if they were a surprise—Cyno is too in tune with himself not to realise that he has fallen for the other man—but to hear them out loud—it hadn’t been all that pleasant, is all.

Tighnari had asked him if he knew Alhaitham’s feelings on the matter and while Cyno couldn’t say for certain his actions certainly made him believe there was cause to hope.

Cyno doubts Alhaitham would just let anyone sleep on him—and occasionally drool, much to Cyno’s embarrassment—and Cyno had caught him twice now, staring at him with a soft look on his face.

It surely has to mean something.

He’s not about to bring it up though, because these days the little naps he takes in Alhaitham’s office are the only real good rest he gets and he’s not about to give them up, should he have read Alhaitham wrong.

At least not yet.

~*~*~

Cyno comes to tense and with an urge to hide. It takes him a split second to realize where he is—his head still pillowed on Alhaitham’s leg, with his hand repeatedly moving through Cyno’s hair—and he forces himself to stay still.

He doesn’t know what woke him and he needs to assess the situation first.

“Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham,” a voice says and Cyno immediately knows it’s this person’s steps who woke him.

“What can I do for you?” Alhaitham asks, his voice noticeably colder than it usually is and it feels as if the reassuring motion in Cyno’s hair gets more pronounced.

“It has come to my attention that you’re taking your time with your paperwork these days,” the other man says and Cyno wrecks his brain but he can’t remember his name.

He does know who he worked with before, though, but still he forces himself to remain calm.

“I wonder why that could be,” the man goes on and Cyno’s nape prickles. He must be looking at him then.

“Careful, Professor,” Alhaitham says. “Or one could think you’re judging my work.”

“It has just been noted,” the man drawls out and when Cyno dares to look up at Alhaitham he sees a cutting smile on his face.

“If this is about your research project I refused, rest assured that I would have refused it no matter what, and I will refuse it again, no matter how often you hand it in. No outward influences needed.”

There’s a long silence before Cyno hears a huff and then retreating steps. The elevator comes to life again and a minute later the office is quiet once more.

“You never wake up when someone enters the office. What is different with him?” Alhaitham wants to know, scratching lightly at Cyno’s scalp and Cyno closes his eyes.

“His steps. I know them. He worked with Azar before.”

Alhaitham hums.

“Not closely enough to implicate himself, I’m afraid,” Alhaitham mutters and keeps Cyno’s head where it is when he tries to sit up. “Don’t. You need more rest. You usually sleep deeply enough to sleep right through these things.”

Cyno blinks at that. It’s true; he rarely ever wakes up when someone enters the office and logically he knows that visitors must be frequent. His sleep has never been deep; his job doesn’t allow for it. He’s a light sleeper, awake at the smallest of sounds and always at least partially conscious about his surroundings.

The fact that all these things don’t apply when he’s here, with his head carefully cradled by Alhaitham makes him freeze.

“What did he mean, you’re slow with your work these days?” Cyno asks to give himself a little bit of time to compose himself again and Alhaitham huffs out a sigh.

“I find myself unwilling to leave the office, these days,” Alhaitham admits. “I would rather stay here and give you more time to rest than to wake you up.”

Cyno turns on his back at that, staring up at Alhaitham.

“You hate tardiness. You finish your work quickly and efficiently so that you can go home sooner.”

That makes Alhaitham chuckle.

“That is not wrong.”

“But,” Cyno prompts when Alhaitham doesn’t go on.

“I find that I hate it more when I have to wake you.”

“Oh,” Cyno whispers and then reaches up to grab Alhaitham’s hand still buried in his hair.

Alhaitham clearly misunderstands him because he’s in the motion of pulling away when Cyno finally manages to grab his hand and he’s quick to thread their fingers together.

Alhaitham relaxes when he notices what Cyno’s intention is and he rests his other hand on Cyno’s chest, right over his heart.

“What does that mean for us?” Cyno asks after a moment of comfortable silence and Alhaitham’s gaze darts out the window.

“It means that you will accompany me home now, so we can both get some actual rest,” he easily says as if it means nothing to him to invite Cyno into his home, his life, and his bed.

“We won’t if Kaveh is there,” Cyno reminds him with a small smile.

He loves the architect but if Alhaitham brings Cyno home with him only for them to vanish into Alhaitham’s bedroom then there will not be a quiet minute the entire evening.

“What do you propose then?” Alhaitham asks, clearly realising the truth and Cyno finally pushes himself up.

“I do have my own home,” he tells Alhaitham and pulls him up, making sure their hands stay entangled. “And a bed, even though I see how you would hardly believe that after all of this,” he waves his free hand around the office and watches with satisfaction how Alhaitham smiles at him.

“Best to show me then, so I can make sure of that with my own two eyes,” he teases and Cyno certainly does not melt on the spot when Alhaitham leans down and presses a kiss to Cyno’s forehead.

“Yeah, best to do that,” Cyno mumbles, overly aware of how hot his face suddenly is but then he decides that two can certainly play that game.

So he leans up on his toes to kiss the corner of Alhaitham’s mouth and he’s more than delighted to find that Alhaitham blushes easily.

He is certain that sleep will not be their immediate goal but as long as Alhaitham is with him Cyno is fine with anything. Because there is simply something special about Alhaitham.

[sollucets]

okay i’m finally here to give you a prompt HSKDKSDK first of all congrats on the milestone!!! secondly, i’m thinking akkayan + 24+25 for the touch prompts? i saw those ones and immediately thought of them hanging out with kanthua + namowat and a sensitive topic for one of them comes up?

hi liz ✨✨ im finally here to give you a fic! this was a lovely prompt thank u very much 💜

24 + 25 (whispering in their ear, lips touching the skin + stroking their arm soothingly); set somewhere in the back half of e12, probably; about 1.4k of group reflection

💜

“Did you all see Aunt Waree smiling today?” Namo asks into the silence.

Akk glances up from his book. Their entire group is sprawled across various surfaces in one of the common areas of Akk and Wat’s shared dorm building, exam prep supplies scattered all around them across the furniture and the generic patterned carpet. 

To Akk’s left, Aye is tucked into the corner of a moderately-comfortable couch, a notepad propped up against his legs and his laptop balanced precariously on the armrest. He’s changed out of his uniform and into a soft-looking, pale green t-shirt. Akk thinks his lips might be shinier than before, too, but he’s really trying not to check too much. It’s been happening more often recently, the lip gloss, and it makes Akk — well. Not study.

Across from them, Kan and Thua are sitting squished together on a loveseat, both out of their uniform jackets and excessively cuddly, and Namo and Wat take up another couch. Wat sits normally, but Namo is on his back and half-sprawled across the rest of the cushions, legs nearly in Wat’s lap. 

They’re the only ones in the room; if Akk’s tenuous reputation with the Suppalo populace combined with Wat and Kan’s overprotective posturing has done them any good, it’s that any space they take up on or even near campus usually gets given a wide berth. 

“Yeah, right,” Kan says dryly, not even bothering to look up. For the most part they’ve been surprisingly industrious given the group composition, but somebody has been interrupting at almost-clockwork fifteen-minute intervals the entire time. Himself and Thua aside, most of his friends don’t have the best attention span; Aye does, actually, but he seems to be perfectly fine with interruptions as long as he gets to pester Akk during them. 

“No, for real,” Namo insists, letting his book drop open onto his chest. Akk winces. He could at least use a bookmark. “When she came into class, she was all smiley, and she even said good morning to us before the head of cl— before class got called into session. I didn’t know she could do that.” 

His last-minute word swap is likely for the sake of Thua, who’d lost his position after his suspension. To Akk, it doesn’t seem like Thua really cares about that, but they’ve all been doing kind of a lot of sidestepping around each other’s issues in group settings. Some of them are better at it than others. 

Akk has talked, one-on-one, with most of his friends; he’s cried embarrassingly into Wat’s shoulder, let Kan hit him then hug him, let Thua say whatever he needed to despite Aye’s disapproval and came out of it with the same fire-forged understanding he’d had before. He isn’t sure if the others have done something close to the same, but when they’re all together there’s an unspoken agreement to leave it alone. A group delusion, maybe, pretending that they’re normal high schoolers for just a little longer. 

Finally, Wat looks up, casting Namo a sidelong glance. “No, he’s right, I saw it. It is pretty odd, but she’s just always been the kind of person who’s very careful about her image.” 

Akk, for his part, had not seen it. Before class started today Aye had kicked him under their shared desk, and when he’d reflexively kicked back he’d gotten an inexplicably softer one in return, and then again until he realized they were just nudging each other back and forth and Aye had a silly little smile on his face (and he had one too, probably, definitely). He was not paying attention. 

So that’s why he’s mildly offended when Aye chimes in. “I saw it too.” Their eyes meet briefly, and Akk doesn’t know how to object without admitting to being embarrassing, so he’s still just frowning aimlessly when Aye continues, “She’s really been a lot more relaxed lately. Maybe she feels freer.” He doesn’t sound happy about it.

Akk gets it, he thinks; he’s had enough practice on the other end of this particular Aye habit. It’s just him being all empathetic despite himself again. He still wants to be angry with her, and he’d deserve to be, after all the school’s teachers did to him, but he can’t help seeing it from her side even though he’d really rather not. 

Wat, apparently noticing the shift in mood, sounds more subdued when he says, “I mean, it really wasn’t always so bad. Our teachers are strict, it’s— the culture, but I think it got worse this year. With— everything.” 

Akk winces. Everyone is looking up now, Kan’s face set in those serious lines that suit him surprisingly well and Thua’s eyes unreadable under his lashes. 

Uncharacteristically, Namo’s half-smile goes more sincere. “You’re right,” he says honestly. “It was better when Teacher Dika was here.”

Thua’s eyes snap to Namo and Wat’s eyes snap to Aye and Kan’s mouth half-opens as they all simultaneously realize that there’s only one person in the room who wasn’t in a different room all that time ago. He doesn’t know. 

Before he can think about it, Akk is already reaching out to put a hand on Aye’s arm. He hasn’t moved, or said anything, but Akk finds him tense under his touch, staring at a fixed point in the distance that isn’t quite Namo. His hair is coming unstyled a little, a strand falling into his eyes. 

Namo doesn’t seem to notice the temperature dropping just yet. He genuinely looks thoughtful as he continues, “Even if he was a junior teacher, it sets an example. Like Teacher Sani now.”

Akk lets his fingers travel down Aye’s bicep, hoping to get any reaction at all. He’s rewarded with Aye turning to look up at him; after a moment, his eyes seem to focus back in from wherever he’d gone to look at Akk’s face. 

“Namo,” starts Wat, sounding uncertain, but he’s interrupted. 

Swallowing audibly, Aye looks across to Namo and asks, “How was it better?” 

“Oh, right, you wouldn't have been here,” Namo says cheerily. “He was an English teacher, but he worked in student welfare, too. Not that I was there all the time, of course,” he adds after a moment, in an immediately suspicious way. “But he was a really nice guy, even when he would’ve had every reason to scold people, and I think other staff saw that.” 

That sits there in the air for a moment, until, quietly, Thua says, “He always had these jokes on the whiteboard in his office, in English, that he’d explain all the parts of even if you didn’t ask.”

Aye laughs a little at that. It’s more breath than sound, and it looks like it startles him; Akk gives in to his own urge to comfort and puts his arm fully around his boyfriend, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt. Instantly, Aye leans into it, soft against Akk’s side even as his notes slide haphazardly out of his lap.

Kan, having clearly seen them, starts loudly trying to remember one of Teacher Dika’s whiteboard jokes, exaggeratedly mispronouncing the words to make Thua giggle. Grateful, Akk takes the opportunity to dip his head and move even closer. His lips brush skin as he murmurs into Aye’s ear, “You’re alright?” 

In his hold, Aye wiggles a little, probably ticklish, and says, “I think so. Mostly.” It comes out wondering, like he hadn’t been sure, like he’d expected it to hurt more. “I— he did that at home, too. He had printed-out lists.”

That doesn’t surprise Akk. It makes sense, he thinks, for Teacher Dika to have tried to show as much of himself as he could have. And Namo’s right; they had seen that, for better and for worse. He wouldn’t blame Aye if he never forgave anyone for what they’d done with that, if he stood up right now and demanded they shut up about him, if he said it wasn’t like they had any right to his memory. Akk certainly doesn’t feel like he does, some days. 

Aye doesn’t do any of that. He just curls all the way into Akk, breathes intentionally even, and listens to them talk with a contemplative expression on his face. The others cast sidelong glances at him from time to time, worried, and then less, and then they’re moving on, eventually getting back to what they’re supposed to be here for. 

But Aye stays tucked comfortable and close, refusing to move when they have to arrange their notes again, even though it’s not like Akk was letting go. Their friends make fun of them, but only gently, the same way they’d do for anyone else, and that too is different now. 

[giftedyoungster3000]

A WAVE OF FLAMES

First responder C1

Summary: Darkish. When a normal night at home turns into a disaster you find yourself in the arms of a stranger. No use of y/n.

Warnings: dark, kidnapping, fire, manipulation, using emotionally unstable people, PLEASE DONT READ IF YOUR UNCOMFORTABLE

Events: juneiverse @buckybarnesevents

A/n just a heads up I suck at writing but I really wanted to join this event. Have not reread it so it probably sucks. About 970 words.

The alarm was ringing through your house a panic surged through your blood as you quickly sat up. And threw a hoodie over your head. Blindly grabbing your phone. You quickly made your way to your apartment door. Sliding a pair of slippers on and closing the door behind you as you stepped into the hall joining the crowd of your neighbours all walking to the staircase at the end of the hallway. You make your way into the crisp summer night holding your hoodie closer to your body, regretting only wearing the slightly Lacey sleep shorts and a thin bralette you had bought last week as a form of self-care.

As you watched multiple fire trucks pull up to your complex you couldn’t help but overthink everything. Where would you stay? Would you lose all your precious belongings? You tried not to panic as you stood amongst the flashing lights and harsh sounds. You couldn’t see any fire but you could smell it. It was faint but was there.

A tap on your shoulder pulled you from your overthinking spiral. You looked to your right where a large man stood. Your eyes glanced over him. The fireman gear he had on did nothing to conceal how massive he was.

You couldn’t help but think of what he must look like under that suit. Was he all muscle or was he also soft? As soon as your eyes made it to his face though not a thought was in your mind except his eyes. Those stormy blue eyes looked down at you with worry. He was speaking but you could focus on anything but those eyes.

A light shake of your shoulder snapped you out of his eyes.

“Hey, are you ok miss?” The man in front of you asked. You nervously nodded your head. Still unable to speak under his spell. “My name is Bucky I’m here to help you.”

“Bucky” you tried his name out on your tongue. You felt his hand land on your shoulder guiding you over to an ambulance.

“Hey Nat I think she may have a concussion,” he spoke to a lady with short red hair. Both of their hands gently pull you down to sit on the edge of the ambulance. Bucky stays beside you as the lady he called Nat checks you over. Your eyes stay on his until the paramedic puts a bright light in your line of vision. Snapping you out of the trance once again.

“She seems perfectly fine buck. Probably just a little shaken.”

“What’s your name sweetie?” She asks, bending down to be at eye level with you. You tell her your full name and she stands up and walks somewhere out of your view. Leaving you once again with Bucky.

“You alright doll?” He asks once again. All you managed to do was weakly shake your head. Trying desperately to be strong but all your fight left you as you looked into his eyes.

You couldn’t help but think back to the argument you had with your parents. The same argument that made you move to a city where you knew no one. The argument is that they decided to cut you off. It seemed silly now. It was hitting you just how alone you were. Your house is in flames with no one to help you.

A warm arm wrapped around you in comfort. And you felt yourself truly break.

You vaguely recall the lady coming back over to the two of you. Saying something to James before talking to you again. She gently placed what looked like an oxygen mask over your face. That lightheaded feeling came back stronger as you felt your mental state drift away.

-

A pounding headache is never what you want to wake up to. But as you pull yourself out of sleep you take in your surroundings. None of them are familiar and a panic takes over your breathing. You sit up and rip off the blankets that were laid carefully over your bare legs. You go to hop off the bed but a counter force makes you face plant on the carpet.

You hear movement from the other room. You turn around to assess the situation and to your horror, your leg is cuffed to the frame of the bed.

The sound of the door opening sends you into a panic. Flights are not an option while you are cuffed down so fight it is. You look for something, anything to protect yourself, settling on a book that is laid on the nightstand. Holding it in front of yourself you look at the door that is opening.

A smiling face pops through the door.

The man from last night stood on the threshold. His sweet voice filled the air. All filled with sweetness and warmth as if he didn’t lock you to a bed. Kidnapping you when you had trusted him.

“What is wrong with you?” You spat at him, needing answers. And desperately hope this is a big misunderstanding.

“I just wanted to help you doll.” There it was again that sweet voice that got you into this mess.

“Help me? You tied me to a bed!” You could believe you got into this situation.

“Hey, I only did that to protect you. I knew you wouldn’t understand right away.”

What the hell was he talking about?

“We’re meant for each other doll. And I couldn’t just let you walk away from me. I knew the second I saw you I had to have you.” His voice was so soft but those words were devious. “And now that I have you we can be happy. Don’t you wanna be happy doll.”

His blue eyes searched yours so desperately that you almost believed him. You couldn’t believe him though. Right?

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

It’s not exactly how Kharish had been planning to spend the day, but here she is, on the floor, trying to scrub the scorched imprints of a stacked set of fire and frost runes out of one of the study tables that’s been blasted apart.

Lucky: she’d been close enough to throw a ward around it to choke the resulting fire (in a lovely, if terrifying, shade of ice blue) out before it did too much damage. Not so lucky: the trio of students responsible for the experiment, shaken and singed in a few places, had fared a little worse than the books stacked on the floor by each of their chairs. (Not normally a place Urag likes to see books left, but this might be a special exception given it meant they were not on the table when it burst into flame.)

Urag had taken them to the infirmary, setting aside his lecture on why practical application of theory is better studied outside the Arcanaeum for long enough to ensure they’d be alright. She’d stayed. She’s a lot better at fixing books than fixing people.

Tables fall somewhere in the middle, which is why she now has a mouthful of nails and all four table legs lined up ready for reattachment.

The heavy scraping of the main door echoes from the front of the Arcanaeum. Kharish shifts the nails to one side of her mouth and says without looking up, “Think this is about all I can get with the sandpaper, Urag; I’ll put it back together for now, but if we can find some darker wood stain it’ll probably hide what’s left well enough—”

The shadow that falls over her is smaller than Urag and thrice as tense. She looks up, half-turned, to find Colette a full step closer than she normally stands.

“Ah—sorry, a study group got a little out of control,” Kharish says around the nails, suddenly embarrassed by the state of the table, which is silly, because she’s not the one who exploded it. There’s a smear of frost-speckled ash on her sleeve still. She brushes it off as surreptitiously as she can. “Don’t worry, I’m fixing it.”

“I know,” sniffs Colette, “because I’ve just spent half the morning fixing them.”

“Are they—”

“Perfectly fine,” she says, “and certainly not going to try that again any time soon. I left them with Faralda to relearn why explosive runes are not meant to be stacked; they’ll be writing lines for—some time yet.” She’s looking at her intently. Not a problem, by any means—she does this little head tilt when she’s thinking on something, birdlike; it’s sweet—but it does have a way of erasing whatever reasonable thought Kharish was going to have next.

There is an awkward silence as Kharish, for lack of something smarter to do with her hands, goes to pick up the hammer and instead smacks it skidding into her own knee. Which is fine. She can have meant to do that. She takes the nails out of her mouth and lines one up before trying for the hammer again (successfully this time). “Um”—truly, unparalleled eloquence at play—“do you know what they call a cod in formal robes?”

“So-fish-ticated, yes,” she deadpans, without missing a beat; “you used that one a few weeks ago already.”

Kharish blinks. “…you remembered how it goes?”

“No. Don’t change the subject. The fire—the little freckly one said you put it out,” Colette presses onward, arms folded, dark eyes flicking away from her for just a moment—she would say almost nervous if ‘nervous’ wasn’t generally her baseline state, as a rule—“and I could not help but notice you were—conspicuously absent.”

“Oh—conspicuously so?” She sits a little straighter, tilts her head in mirror, unable to stop her widening grin. “Were you worried about me, Mistress Marence?”

“I suspected, due to the nature of the incident, as it was relayed to me, that there may have been—other issues that, possibly, required my attention,” she corrects primly, the tips of her ears pinkening. “Since this is obviously not the case, I will be taking my leave. Goodbye!”

“I did hit my thumb with the hammer just a moment ago—”

“You did not! I said goodbye!”

Kharish rubs at her own cheek and finds it warm, still grinning after her as she flurries for the door again, all agitation. The fish one, she thinks, a little stupid, a little giddy. Alright. She can learn more jokes about fish.

[fallenasleepyetagain]

Family - Nagito/Hajime Fic

Prompt: Meeting the Family

Prompt from: @yearoftheotpevent

Media: Danganronpa

Genres: Non-despair AU, no talents AU (???), all three mainline games (+UDG) exist in the same universe, Hope's Peak is just a normal high school, pre-established relationship, fluff (?), nerds being nerds (ig)

Characters: Nagito Komeada, Hajime Hinata, Rantaro Amani, Kiyotaka Ishimaru, Makoto Naegi (mentioned), Komaru Naegi (mentioned), Kaede Akamatsu (mentioned), unnamed parents of Nagito, Hajime, Makoto, and Komaru

Pairing(s): Hajime/Nagito, Makoto/Taka (implied)

CW/TW - Brief mentions of Nagito's backstory, implied adultery & divorce

Other Notes: wow my first danganronpa fic and it's komahina. I usually try to do rarepairs for these monthly challenges but I saw the prompt and the story had been laid out before me I just had too </3 (I'll do some more dr rarepairs in the future).

this is entirely based off of me seeing Rantaro's sprites and going "wow you look like you could be related to Nagito!"

I also have yet to beat drv3 so uhh if Rantaro's characterization is weird that is why olol

Word Count - 3888

“Hajime, would you like to meet him?”

“I’m sorry?” The wind tossed around the fallen yellow leaves carelessly, the trees swaying gently. The hot air trapped the humidity in Hajime’s clothes, and he felt at least five degrees warmer than he should’ve. It wasn’t as hot compared to the summer months, but sitting out in the sun still seemed to cook him alive. His clothes weren’t particularly heavy, especially compared to Nagito’s, but he seemed to be sweating like crazy. …It probably didn’t help that he was sitting directly in the sun, when all of the shade seemed to conveniently cover Nagito perfectly. How did he even survive in the summer heat with that heavy green coat of his?

Hajime made a point to sit as far away from Nagito on the bench as possible, not wanting to be smothered by said coat. The humidity killed any chance of Hajime allowing Nagito to get near him at all. Although, that didn’t stop Nagito from trying. Without properly scooting over, Nagito leaned to his left, his hand slowly crawling over to Hajime’s. With a heavy sigh, Hajime complied, his tan fingers intertwining with Nagito’s. They were both a little sweaty, but in this heat? That was just fine. It was an oddly serene moment, something they hadn’t had in a while. And, much to Hajime’s surprise, Nagito was being relatively normal about it all!

At least, until he asked that odd question. “Him? Who is him?”

Nagito smiled, a facial expression Hajime was familiar with. Even though his gray eyes were soft, Hajime knew better than to believe that he was about to say something even remotely sane. 

“I’ve just been thinking…” Not a good sign. “We’ve been dating for a while, right?”

“Right.”

“Well, I think it’s about time that you met my family. That’s what couples do, I think.”

“What family?” Hajime asked before he could stop himself, an eyebrow rising. Last time he checked, Nagito was an orphan.

“Haha, ouch Hajime!” Nagito chuckled to himself, holding his hands up to his chest. “Although I don’t blame you for thinking that, it’s my fault you got the wrong idea about my family situation…”

With a soft hum, Nagito thought for a bit, a hand going up to his chin. Hajime could almost see the lightbulb appear over his head as he let go of Hajime’s hand. He shifted around in his pockets for a moment before pulling out his phone. Hajime scooted a little closer, leaning in as Nagito pulled up a photo.

“Who is that?”

“My brother. He’s the only other family I have left!” Nagito said it with such conviction that it was difficult to remember how heartbreaking it was. The photo was dated about three months ago, in the middle of the summer. Nagito and his brother, little brother, Hajime assumed, were in front of a store that Hajime didn’t recognize. Maybe it was out of town somewhere? Regardless, the other man in the image was nearly a splitting image of Nagito, or, perhaps more accurately, their parents. There were some obvious differences, sure. That was to be expected with siblings, but these two were similar in ways that Hajime didn’t even expect.

For starters, they had the same smile. In just a simple photo, Hajime could see the same curt smile that Nagito had on his little brother. That smile drove him nuts, as he could never tell what exactly Nagito was feeling at any given time. He couldn’t believe it was genetic. He almost had the mind to wonder which parent gave it to the both of them, before disregarding the thought. His little brother had light green hair, perhaps it was dyed? Hajime wasn’t sure. His hair had the same texture that Nagito’s did, albeit being much shorter and more controlled. His bangs were swept to the left side of his face.

“His name is Rantaro.” Nagito said, watching Hajime’s face as he looked over the image. Hajime’s eyes landed on the multiple piercings in his ears. There was one in his lobe and five along the outside cartilage. “He did all those piercings himself! I said that we had the money for him to get them done professionally, but he didn’t want to do that. Isn’t he so cool?”

“Rantaro?” Hajime asked, sitting up as Nagito slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket. “Like, Rantaro Amani? Same guy?”

“Yup. Same guy. He took our mother’s maiden name when she passed. But according to the law he’s Rantaro Komaeda.” Nagito looked up into the sky, smiling to himself. “I’m excited to introduce you to him. Unless, you’ve already…?”

Hajime shook his head, leaning forward on the bench in an attempt to get some airflow between his shirt and sweaty skin. “I’ve seen him around but we’ve never officially talked.” He nudged Nagito with his elbow. “I can’t believe Rantaro is your brother. He’s really popular, you know.”

“I do know, Hajime!” Nagito grabbed Hajime by his shoulders, gripping onto him tightly. Nagito smiles, his light eyes filled with a loving somberness. “I was so worried about him for the longest time. But here, at Hope’s Peak, he’s making friends and he’s talking with people! I was terrified that he’d end up like me, but he’s not and I’m so proud of him.

“And, just between you and I, Hajime, I think it’s this school. I knew I had found a good place for him when we enrolled here. Aren’t I just the luckiest?”

With a slight nod of his head, Hajime grasped Nagito’s hand, intertwining their fingers once more. “So, when can I meet this brother of yours?”

A smile appeared on Nagito’s face once more. “Right now, if you’d like. I can drive to my place. He doesn’t have any after school activities on Thursdays, so he should be home right about now.”

Despite Hajime nodding and not protesting when Nagito led him to his truck which was parked in the Hope’s Peak school parking lot, a sinking feeling of dread pooled in his stomach. It wasn’t that Nagito was a poor driver, quite the opposite in fact. He followed all traffic laws, made safe decisions, and had never gotten a ticket (or, so he said). That didn’t stop the intense anxiety from gripping at Hajime’s heart when he strapped himself into the passenger seat of the car and tensed as Nagito placed the key into the ignition.

The engine shuttered and groaned. Nagito’s truck was a piece of work, and Hajime was fairly certain that it must’ve belonged to his grandparents with how old it was. There was never a ride that Nagito took Hajime on where he didn’t worry about being blown to smithereens due to a gas leak or something. The truck was a manual, and whenever Nagito changed gears, the engine would sputter and growl, and Hajime swore he could see soot coming from beneath the hood at times.

If Hajime could do the impossible and look past the poor condition of the truck, then Nagito’s actual driving skills were impressive to a scary degree. If he didn’t know Nagito as well as he did, he wouldn’t allow him within seven feet of the wheel. For the first few years of their friendship, and the first month or so of their relationship, he did just that. It wasn’t until a situation much like the one he was currently in, where he was on the passenger side of things. Nagito wanted to show Hajime where he lived and suddenly he was in the passenger side of the old, gray truck. He could’ve sworn he’d seen his life flash before his eyes. 

Nagito’s house was about a forty-five minute drive from Hope’s Peak, and it there was generally uneventful. Nagito and Rantaro lived in a large house, not exactly mansion level but it was definitely on the verge, that sat atop a large hill. There were a few other houses in the area, and Hajime had to guess that the taxes in such a place were astronomical. The first few times he went over to Nagito’s place, he hadn’t seen any evidence that he had a little brother. The house was…relatively bare, which only made it seem larger. He was sure that there were photos of Rantaro somewhere in the house, he just hadn’t seen them. He and Nagito mostly spent time in his bedroom or in the living room. He had to guess that Rantaro had been avoiding those rooms whenever he came over, so as not to disturb them.

 The truck pulled into the driveway, but not into the large garage. The door had been left open and a second, smaller car, had been parked dead center inside. The garage was big enough to fit two cars relatively comfortably, but the truck wouldn’t be able to fit on either side of it. Hajime turned to Nagito who grimaced, one of his eyes twitching as he put the truck into park and pulled the key out of the ignition.

“Rantaro…” He grunted quietly as he shoved the keys into his pocket. Hajime slung his backpack over his shoulder as he exited the car along the same time as Nagito, closing the door behind him. The truck beeped as Nagito locked it with the keys, slipping them into his pocket. Hajime hadn’t noticed before, but the keys had a small, beaded decoration on them. It didn’t look like anything else Nagito owned, so he had to wonder where it came from.

The pair walked over to the open garage and Nagito rubbed his forehead. “He could’ve at least closed it…”

“Haha.” Hajime looked at the car, supposedly Rantaro’s, and squinted. It looked…awful. He couldn’t point out the exact model, but looking at it, it had to be at least a decade old. It was a small black car with paint chips here and there, as well as a dent or two. Nagito had all this money, and he had yet to get his little brother a new car?

That wasn’t normally a thought that Hajime had, but he knew around the amount of inheritance that Nagito had gained, and buying another small car wouldn’t be hard on his income.

“He’s getting a new car for his birthday.”

“Sorry?”

Nagito smiled, pressing the buttons on the outside panel to close the garage. He gestured for Hajime to follow him as he began the ascent up the stairs to the front door. “I could tell what you were thinking, about his car, I mean. I know I seem awful for not getting him a new one sooner and making him drive around in that awful thing, but I knew I wanted to get him a new one for his birthday! So I had to make him wait.

“But you can’t say anything, okay, Hajime? It’s a surprise! He has no idea.”

“Yeah, of course.” Hajime nodded, his hands in his pockets as he walked. “Your secret is safe with me. Do you know what kind of car you’re getting him?”

“Mm…” Nagito hummed, “I’m not completely sure yet, but I have a few in mind.”

The two reached the front door, and Nagito jiggled the doorknob. Locked.

“Oh, so he locks the front door but doesn’t close the garage? Typical…” Nagito muttered to himself as he pulled out his keys. He fumbled for a moment, before getting the right key into the front door. It opened with a swift click and Hajime wondered why he didn’t just get one of those locks with a code instead of a key. Maybe the house was just built that way? He wasn’t sure.

With an apologetic look on his face, Nagito turned back to face Hajime. “Ahh, sorry about that, Hajime! Come on in.”

The door was held open, and Hajime walked in, Nagito following suit. Hajime had to pause when he entered the house. It wasn’t the first time he had been there, but he had to marvel at it every time. The interior was absolutely gorgeous. He slipped off his shoes at the front door, setting them next to the other pairs of shoes. He set them next to a pair of brown hiking boots, and he supposed that they had to belong to Rantaro. When he first saw them when he came over, he just assumed they were Nagito’s. But he had never seen Nagito wear them (nor did he think that Nagito actually hiked), so they must’ve been Rantaro’s. He quickly set his school bag on a nearby hook, making sure to not stray far from the entrance.

“Rantaro?” Nagito called as Hajime did small circles near the front door, glancing around for the slippers that Nagito had provided last time. He didn’t even want to think about stepping onto the shimmering wooden floors in his socks. “Are you in the living room?”

“Hey, Nagito? Where are-?!” Before Hajime could finish, Nagito grabbed him by the hand and pulled him onto the floor anyway. He looked at Nagito with wide eyes, his head cocking to the side in shock. Nagito raised an eyebrow before laughing softly to himself. He dismissed Hajime’s concerns with a wave of his hand and continued to drag him through the large house.

The pair entered the kitchen, and Hajime locked eyes with the one and only Rantaro. He looked almost exactly like the photo that Nagito had shown him earlier, his hair just being a bit longer. Only the piercings on his lobes had earrings at the moment, but he had other jewelry on. He had on a necklace with a leather chain and a crystal attached to it, and if he and Nagito were akin at all, the crystal was completely authentic (although Hajime couldn’t tell exactly). He also had a variety of bracelets on, being both metal and leather.

Rantaro was sitting at the table, one leg crossed over the other. He was wearing a thinly striped blue sweater, and he leaned into his knuckles. His backpack was a foot or so away from him, so Hajime suspected he had been doing homework, or had been using his laptop for something or other. The two soon joined him at the table, both sitting across from him. His green eyes flickered from Hajime to Nagito and he raised an eyebrow.

“What’s going on?” He asked, no sense of distaste or anxiety in his tone. It was just a simple, sincere question.

“I figured that it’s about time for you and Hajime to meet properly.” Nagito said, his hand subtly moving over to land on Hajime’s thigh. However, it was swiftly moved, their fingers now intertwined. “I’ve met his family, so it was only a matter of time until he met you.”

“Oh, cool.”

“And don’t worry, this visit won’t take long. You’ll be able to finish up your work soon.” Nagito stood up, and Hajime raised an eyebrow at him. He placed his hand on Hajime’s shoulder, looking down and smiling. “Would you like some tea, Hajime? I could make us some.”

“Hm? Oh yeah. That’d be great, thanks.” 

With a swift nod, Nagito walked away, leaving the two at the table by themselves. Hajime picked up on his intentions almost immediately. Nagito wanted him and Rantaro to try and hold a conversation without him. Which was reasonable, he supposed. That didn’t mean it was any less awkward. He knew very little about Rantaro, and was unsure of how to start a conversation with him.

Much to his luck, Nagito came through for him. At least for now.

“Rantaro, where’s the tea we got this week?”

To respond, Rantaro leaned to his side so he could look at Nagito. Hajime did the same. His face scrunched up slightly as he spoke: “In the garage I think.”

The cabinet door closed and Nagito looked at his little brother with exasperation written all over his face. “Why is it in the garage?”

“You said we didn’t have any room in the pantry,” Rantaro said, crossing his arms. “So you told me to put the extra packages in the garage when I brought the groceries in.” “And you didn’t bring any in when you saw that we were out?”

“I don’t drink tea, Nagito. I only drink it when you make it. So, yeah, I didn’t notice.”

Nagito muttered something that Hajime probably didn’t want to hear before walking off, presumably to the garage. Rantaro sighed, putting his crossed arms on the table, he pushed some of his green hair out of his face as he did so.

“Sorry about that.”

“Haha, it’s no problem. I ended up doing the same thing to Nagito with Makoto the first time he came over.”

There was a pause and Rantaro gave him a small smile of disbelief. “Naegi’s your brother?”

“My half-brother, yeah.”

“Which side?”

“We share a dad.”

Hajime hoped that Rantaro wouldn’t press further. He didn’t feel like going into the intricacies of the drama between their shared father and their mothers. It was a whole thing, and he was tired of hearing about it.

“Is Naegi as awesome of a brother as he is a guy?” “Yeah. He is. He’s pretty cool.” He was thankful for a brother like Makoto. In some other family, he might’ve been considered a bastard child or something. Maybe it was the bare minimum, but he was really appreciative that both Makoto and Komaru just treated him like another sibling. It was nice. Their mother was a whole other story, but he’d rather not think about all of that at the moment.

An awkward silence fell over the two, and Hajime figured he should be the one to try and start up the next conversation.

“So…I’ve seen you around Hope’s Peak.”

“Yeah?” “Yeah. I’ve seen you with uh, this blond girl? Is she just a friend or…?”

“Ah, Kaede?” Rantaro put the side of his face into his palm, really leaning into it. He smiled, his eyes drifting off to the side. “She’s a good friend of mine. If you get the chance, you should go to the music festival. She’ll be playing piano. She’s really good.”

“I’ll see if I can catch her performance.” Hajime nods, his fingers drumming on the table. “I’m going anyway. A few friends of mine are doing a performance.”

“Oh nice.”

Another silence.

Goddamnit, where was Nagito when you needed him?

“...You don’t really drink tea?”

“Yeah.” He hummed, his eyes rolling back to look at Hajime. “But Nagito does, so whenever he makes it I take some as well.”

The pair went quiet, except this time, it was to listen in on something else. Nagito’s muffled voice reverberated across the house, but neither were sure what exactly he was saying. There was another voice, and the two glanced at each other. Hajime stood up, unsure of what was happening. With Nagito’s luck (or bad luck, really), who knows who he could be talking to. His guard stayed up until the voices got closer and he recognized the person’s voice.

The beginning of the sentence was lost, but Hajime managed to get the last little bit of it. “...for something, not an emergency, but he said that it was urgent.”

Rantaro stood up as Nagito and the other person entered the kitchen, and both his and Hajime’s bodies relaxed. Standing next to Nagito was a familiar face, whose red eyes lit up.

“Hey Taka.”

“Hello Ishimaru.”

Taka placed his hands on his hips before smiling at the two. “Greetings to you both! I apologize for the intrusion, but Makoto sent me to pick you up, Hajime. I would have contacted you and asked when I should pick you up, but he said that it was urgent, so I simply did not have the time.”

“Urgent? Is everything okay? Is Komaru alright?”

“Komaru and the rest of your family are fine, do not worry about that.”

As Taka and Hajime continued to speak for a moment, Rantaro got up and slowly slinked over to Nagito. The two stood next to each other, watching for a moment before Rantaro asked something quietly.

“Who’s Komaru?”

Nagito leaned down a little and whispered back, “Naegi’s little sister. She goes to a different school.”

“Ah.”

“Amani!” Taka turned from Hajime after he finished speaking and placed his hand onto Rantaro’s shoulder. “I saw the video you turned in regarding our student body. You have quite a way with words! It was beautifully said!”

“Oh, hah, thanks.”

“I figured I’d tell you the next time I saw you in person, instead of via email.” With a smile, Taka put his hands on his hips once more. “I believe that it’s much more personal that way!”

Before Rantaro, or anyone else, for that matter, could say a word, Taka turned back to Hajime. Nagito could’ve sworn he felt a gust of air fly past him as Taka did so. The two exchanged quick words, with Hajime saying he’ll only take a minute to say his goodbyes. Taka left swiftly aftwards, giving Nagito a quick nod to thank him for allowing him inside his home. “Sorry about all this. I wish I could’ve stayed longer.”

“No worries, Hajime.” Nagito smiled, his hands shifting into his pockets. “I’m sure you’ll be back soon enough.”

A scoff left Hajime as he leaned over and pecked Nagito on his cheeks. It was especially chaste, but he didn’t want to embarrass Rantaro too much. “I’ll let you know what happened when I get home.”

“Don’t worry about it! You just take care of things.”

“And, I’ll see you around man. It was nice to meet you.” Hajime gave Rantaro a small smile and held up a fist. It took Rantaro a moment, but he caught on quickly and gave Hajime a fist bump.

“Yeah. Cya.”

Hajime, who just had too, gave Nagito one more goodbye kiss before walking back through the kitchen to the front door. He was followed by the two who lived there to send him off. He slipped his shoes back on, his bag slung over his shoulder. He opened the door, and once more he was hit with a wave of hot, humid air. God, he was so thankful for air conditioning. He gave Rantaro and Nagito a quick goodbye wave, getting one in return from the former, before leaving.

The only sound that was made for a moment or two was the sound of Taka’s car starting and then driving off. Nagito had shifted over to the front window and watched the car drive away.

“So.”

“So?” Rantaro raised an eyebrow.

“What do you think?”

All Nagito got was a shrug. “He seems nice. I see why you like him.”

Nagito beamed. It had been a quick meeting, sure. One that he would’ve wanted to go on for much longer, but there wasn’t much he could do. However, a good first impression was all that he could’ve hoped for from both parties, and it had been successful! He watched Rantaro as he walked back into the kitchen, a smile still on his face. It had been a rough few years, for the both of them. 

But maybe, just maybe, things were getting better.

He had hope that was the case.

[2nd2ndalto]

When I Get Home to You

Chapter 6

Chapter 5

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Younger-Nico isn’t sure how long he and Hazel have been “gone” once they return to their spots on the couch, but when they do, Will has the baby asleep on one shoulder, his husband cuddled into the other. That’s not the only reason younger-Nico feels the need to move but nevertheless, he just can't quite bear to be around so many people for any longer, and when he asks if it’s okay for him to walk the dog, Will agrees immediately.

By the time he and Sticks return to the little house with the lush garden, the sun is setting, casting the leafy vines around the front door in reddish light and shadow. The house smells warm and welcoming as they step inside.

No one seems to hear Nico at the front door, but there’s a clatter and a shout from the kitchen, and as Nico enters, it’s to the sound of both men laughing; older-Nico bent over clutching his stomach, Will’s hand on his back. Younger-Nico can’t help the feeling he’s intruding, but both men turn towards him at the same time, grinning.

“Oh, perfect!” Will exclaims, (a phrase Nico can’t ever remember being greeted with) “you’re just in time for dinner. Sit.”

Nico is even hungrier than he thought he was, and all three are quiet as they begin their meal. After a few minutes he thinks to say, “sorry for taking off earlier. I just... needed some space."

The longer he’s here, the more it’s like a tangible ache, not being able to disappear into the shadows. But he’s scared that if he did, he’d wind up somewhere or some-when far worse.

“No, don’t apologize, it’s fine,” Will assures him, adding more pasta to his plate without being asked, apparently dissatisfied with the amount Nico had served himself. “There were a lot of people to meet today.” Will glances at his husband, laughter in his eyes. “Nico’s still not really a people person.”

Older-Nico rolls his eyes. “I’m perfectly fine. It’s just that you and Sticks are usually enough people for me.”

Will snorts.

“What? You should both be honoured to be my preferred company.”

Will tosses a crouton at him. His husband grins and dodges, and Sticks leaps up seemingly from nowhere to snag it. Younger-Nico laughs, and both men smile at him in surprise.

“Um… did I miss anything? After I left?”

Will sets his fork down, considering. “Yeah, a bit.” He glances at his husband, who nods, his mouth full. “We might have figured out the glitch, as Hazel called it.”

“Mmm,” his older self agrees, taking a sip of water. “Hazel and I took a poke through my memories of that day - they’re not as fresh as yours - but you remember the strixes near DOA?”

Younger-Nico nods.

“You shadow-travelled away from them and tried to head to Connecticut to enter the Underworld there instead, right? In my memory, I killed the strixes and went into the Underworld through the main entrance.” He shrugs. “Hazel says the variation might not have made a difference under normal circumstances, but because these time monsters are around… it might have drawn their attention, and then the one that you killed at the university? It pulled you off course.”

“Wow,” Nico says, frowning. “Way off course, though.”

His older self nods. “Hazel’s hoping it was just a conglomeration of weird circumstances - these unusual monsters combined with a significant event and a particularly powerful demigod… plus the shadow-travel, which is already messing with time a little on a good day.”

“And so…?” Younger-Nico sits back.

“So that’s all we know for now,” Will says. “Hazel will be in touch as soon as she can tell us more. Soon, I’m sure.” And when younger-Nico doesn’t answer, twisting his napkin between his fingers and staring into the middle distance, Will hisses teasingly, “keep eating,” and Nico can’t help smiling. His older self rolls his eyes, shaking his head when Will isn’t looking.

And yeah, it’s still weird - to see his older self moving so easily within someone else’s orbit, sharing careless touches and easy jokes. But he watches the man out of the corner of his eye and older-him looks peaceful. Happy. Younger-Nico is surprised to realize there’s a small, hopeful part of himself that’s begun to ache at the idea that someday, somewhere, there will be someone to laugh over dinner preparations with. A home, and someone to come home to.

“By the way,” older-Nico says, when the three of them have mostly finished their meal, “Percy texted me earlier. He says Cam won’t stop talking about you. His brother and sister are jealous they didn’t get to meet you today.” He grins at his younger self.

“He’s a really sweet kid,” Younger-Nico smiles. “Hey,” he continues after a moment, remembering, “Cam mentioned something about having two dads?”

“Oh,” his older self blinks. “Yeah. So, Percy and Annabeth have always wanted kids, but like all of us, they’d had kind of traumatic childhoods fighting wars and whatnot. Even with two demigod parents, there’s a chance your kid will still have powers, monsters will still come after them, they’ll have to go to Camp to stay safe…” the man pauses to snag a crouton off Will’s plate and Will bats his hand away.

“Percy and Annabeth just decided it was too much of a risk. They didn’t want their kids to have to go through that if they could avoid it. So what, maybe eight years ago?” older-Nico glances at his husband, who nods. “They started fostering. And they fostered this sibling group - there were just two of them at the time, now there are three - and after a couple of years they adopted them officially. It’s an open adoption though, hence the two dads. The kids still see their bio parents fairly regularly.”

“That sounds complicated,” younger-Nico frowns.

“Yeah, maybe. Sometimes.” his older self nods. “But hey - more adults in your life who care about you? You can’t really argue with that. And for Percy and Annabeth, the extra complication was worth it.”

“I don’t think I want kids,” Nico says, pushing what’s left of his salad to the side of his plate.

Will and his husband glance at each other.

“Do - do I?” he blinks at his older self.

The man smiles. “Well. Will and I both love kids. We talked about having our own years ago. Back then, the monsters were more of a concern for us. They don’t bother us as much anymore. At the time, we decided we couldn’t live with putting kids at risk.”

“And now?

Will laughs. “Maybe now we’re too comfortable. We’ve got lots of kids in our lives, anyway. Percy’s kids, now Hazel’s daughter. My demigod and mortal siblings have lots of kids. We’re kind of enjoying being the fun uncles.”

“And we have Sticks,” Older-Nico adds, scratching her head, which is resting in his lap.

“Yeah, we have Sticks,” Will grins.

“Hey, have you met Cerberus yet?” older-Nico asks his younger self.

“Yeah,” Nico feels his face break into a smile.

“What a sweetheart,” his older self grins.

Will rolls his eyes. “Only the two of you would be fawning over the guardian beast of the Underworld.”

___

Hours later, Nico is lying wide awake in the spare room, gazing at the ceiling as the occasional light from a passing car flashes across the walls. He’d been completely exhausted by nine pm, relieved to retreat to the peace and quiet of this room and fall into bed. But now it’s not long past midnight and his mind is buzzing again. It makes sense, he reasons. But it’s not helping with sleep.

The bed is perfectly comfortable, the house exactly the right temperature, but gods it’s been just over 24 hours that he’s been here and the stillness is already making him itchy. The past couple of years have taught him that too much stillness means too much time to think. And thinking is too much.

After another twenty minutes tossing and turning, Nico pads quietly out of the room. The night is clear and the moon is bright, illuminating his path down the hallway. He hesitates, wondering if he should retrieve his boots from the front door and go for a walk.

Just then, he hears Sticks haul herself up and shake. The noise of her tags jingling seems ear-splitting in the silent house. The dog click-clacks into the hallway, trotting straight past Nico and forcefully nosing the other bedroom door open. The door flies wide, squeaking on its hinges, and Nico freezes. Sticks leaps up onto the bed, where Nico can just make out the forms of the two men sleeping side by side, Will’s arm draped over his older self, his face pressed to the back of Nico’s neck. Before he can think better of it, younger-Nico sends a sleeping charm their way, and hurries out into the back yard.

____

Older-Nico pushes the back door open, stepping out into the moonlight-laced back yard. The night air is fresh and alerting, the grass cool under his feet. He pads barefoot across the grass to the fire pit, where a small blaze sends flickering light across the form of his younger self, sitting on the ground with his knees drawn up, sword lying next to him. Sticks puts on a burst of speed, stopping abruptly in front of the boy and rolling onto her back at his feet.

“Hey,” Nico greets the kid. “Nice fire.”

“Hope that’s okay. It was a little cold,” the boy comments, glancing up.

“Yeah, of course.” Nico sits down, closing his eyes to the warmth of the fire on his face.

“I couldn’t sleep. Sorry if I woke you,” his younger self says.

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Actually, it was your sleeping charm that woke me,” and the boy’s eyes go wide.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he stammers. “Just - the dog pushed your door open when I got up and I didn’t want to disturb you-”

Nico shakes his head, smiling, “no, no worries. I figured it was something like that.” And the boy’s shoulders visibly relax. “The charm probably worked just fine on Will. It’s just that I’m always… more aware. When I’m asleep. So it got my attention.”

The boy nods. “Right, of course.”

There’s a long pause wherein they both gaze into the crackling fire, the boy absentmindedly scratching the dog at his feet.

“Everyone here…” he begins after a while. “Everyone here just seems to… trust me.”

Older-Nico shrugs. “Well. Everyone here already knows you,” he says gently. “They know you’re trustworthy.”

The boy exhales slowly, staring into the flames. “Are you trying to tell me that I need to let people know me, if I want to be trusted?” he asks bleakly.

Older-Nico shakes his head. “Nah. I mean, that’s probably true, but I’m not trying to tell you anything. I’m still figuring it out myself, to be honest.”

“And I won’t be able to remember any of this anyway, will I?” the boy glances at him. And he doesn’t look sad. Just resigned.

Nico swallows. “I figured you might have already thought of that. Or did Hazel say something?”

“No,” the boy sighs. “But it just makes sense, right? You don’t remember any of this from your past. If I know too much about what comes next, I might mess everything up.”

“Yeah. Sorry,” Nico murmurs. “I mean - I don’t know how you feel about remembering any of this… but I’m sorry you have to lose more memories. It’s not fair.”

“It’s fine. I get it. I don’t have to bathe in the Lethe again do I?” The boy wrinkles his nose.

Nico shakes his head. “Oh, no. That would be overkill. You just need to forget a couple of days. Hazel can take care of that pretty easily. It’s a lot… gentler.”

The boy nods thoughtfully. He pokes at the fire with his sword, adjusting a log. “I wouldn’t… I mean. I wouldn’t mind remembering some of this.” He glances up at his older self tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s… it’s all a lot to take in, but… it’s not… bad.”

Nico shrugs, smiling. “Yeah, that’s my take on it.”

The boy pokes at the fire again, and sparks fly into the night sky. “I… I never imagined any of this for myself,” he says softly.

“Yeah, I remember,” Older-Nico agrees. There was never the time or the space to imagine anything like this at twelve. He probably wouldn’t have felt he deserved it if there had been.

“And so what… what do you think?” He’s not sure why he’s nervous to hear the boy’s answer. He’s pretty pleased with the way his life has turned out.

The boy gives a small smile. “Yeah, it’s good.” He pauses. “You have a great dog.”

Nico grins. “Yeah, definitely. I mean… Will’s pretty okay too. He grows on you.”

“He’s really nice,” the boy says shyly. “It’s… peaceful here,” he adds after a moment.

Nico raises an eyebrow. “Why do I get the feeling you mean boring?”

The boy smiles wider now. “Maybe a little. Not in a bad way.”

Nico laughs. “I guess we were ready for some peace. It feels like it was a long time coming. Honestly it’s… it’s a pretty full life. I don’t really have any complaints. But it’s a far cry from what’s going on with you right now.”

The boy nods and there’s silence, apart from the crackling of the fire.

“So you’re from 2009. September?” Older-Nico muses after a while.

“Yeah.”

“So right after the Battle of Manhattan, then.”

“Yeah. Dunked Percy in the Styx. Dad helped me raise an army of skeletons. Percy and Annabeth just started dating,” the boy shrugs.

“Right, that,” Nico wrinkles his nose, staring into the fire. It had felt like the end of the world at the time. Despite the fact that he’d just pulled of the impressive feat of convincing his father to assist in the battle. Despite the fact he’d just helped save the world. “But then… you stayed at Camp for a few weeks, right?”

“Yeah,” the boy shifts awkwardly, frowns. “There’s a Hades cabin now. I don’t know, though. It was pretty obvious that one wanted me there. I left not long before I ended up here.”

Older-Nico considers. “Well. I know what you mean. But that’s also not entirely true - that no one wanted you there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that - back in September 2009… well. There’s a certain blonde medic who just spent the last month developing a pretty big crush on you,” Nico grins at him.

The boy’s brow furrows, and then - “oh.” His eyes go wide.

The man shrugs. “You won’t find out about it for at least another year… but yeah.” He’s really smiling now.

The boy shakes his head, a bashful smile starting to pull at his lips. “Are you sure? Like, now?”

His older self laughs. “Yeah, pretty sure. I mean, you can go ask our husband if you don’t believe me.” He tips his head in the direction of the house.

The boy drops his face into his hands. “Gods. Husband.” He laughs.

“Weird, right? He’ll say you were being dense.”

After a long moment the boy raises his head, still looking a little embarrassed. But maybe… hopeful? “The two of you have been together all that time? Since… 2010?”

Nico raises his eyebrows as if the idea surprises him, too. “Yeah, more or less. Like… gods, almost 25 years. You know,” he shrugs, smiling a bit bashfully, “soulmate shit.”

“You believe in that?”

Older-Nico shrugs. “I don’t know, really. But if I did… he’s mine,” he says simply. “And, you know. It’s not like having Will around has solved all my problems. Like I said before, there are still hard times. You still… are who you are. You still go through some stuff that really sucks. But… it’s pretty great to have someone to share it with.” His voice sounds a little rough now, and he takes a moment to breathe.

“Do you still do… demigod stuff?” The boy asks after a pause. “Or do you have… a job?”

It must be disconcerting, Nico thinks. Back at eleven, twelve, thirteen… demigod stuff was all he did. There wasn’t really any choice in the matter, nor much time to consider that there might be a life beyond that. Beyond surviving.

“Yeah, we still do demigod stuff. And job stuff too.” He smiles at his younger self. He hopes he’s not just imagining that the boy looks a bit more relaxed now that he did this morning. A bit more thoughtful, a bit less wretched. “Will and I both teach at the university where you ran into him, actually. And we usually help out with training at one Camp or the other during the summer. Will - well, obviously he still uses his healing powers. I run some errands for Dad once in a while.”

The boy’s eyebrows rise. “And how’s… that?”

Nico laughs. “It’s okay, honestly. We have a decent relationship now.” As bizarre as that probably sounds. “Honestly I expected him to call me up more often than he does. He wants me to be happy, though. Live a somewhat normal life.”

The boy blinks. “Really? Did he actually say that?”

“Yeah. I couldn’t believe it either. And then I figured it was probably mostly just talk. But it seems like he meant it. As godly parents go, he’s… not bad. He actually comes up here every so often - Persephone gets an itch to do some gardening and complain about the way we’re watering the plants… and she brings Hades along. We all hang out, have dinner. Sit around the fire pit.”

The boy laughs in surprise, maybe at the truly bizarre image of the Lord of the Underworld roasting marshmallows in Nico’s back yard.

Nico smiles in response. “I know, it really is something.” He shakes his head. “He kept asking about grandchildren for a while after we got married -”

“Oh, wow,” the boy interjects.

“- yeah, but I think he’s given up now,” Nico laughs. “He and Sticks like each other, though.”

“And… W-Will?” the boy asks tentatively after a moment.

“Yeah,” Nico nods. “Will too. Will and Dad get along just fine.”

The boy looks down at his feet. “So then he’s okay with…”

“Yeah,” Nico says gently. “He’s okay with it.” Then he snorts. “I mean honestly, he kidnapped his wife. I’m not really too invested in his opinions on my romantic relationships.”

The boy laughs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“I mean… I am glad, though. That they get along.”

The two sit in silence for a moment, and… it’s nice. Talking to his younger self. Incredibly bizarre, but somehow he’s already getting used to it. He’ll miss the kid when he’s gone. Nico leans over to reach for a branch on the ground and tosses it into the fire. The flames are starting to die down.

“Hey,” he says after a long moment. “I know right now it… it seems like the whole… our… your… back in your time…” He stops, trying to piece together what he actually wants to say. Which words are the right ones. He glances up at his younger self, but the boy looks just as confused as he feels, and maybe a little like he might think his older self is losing his grip. They gaze at each other for a long moment until suddenly it feels like too long and gods, Nico is starting to panic and he really needs to say something-

“You…” he finally chokes out in desperation. “You know that I’m… gay.”

They stare at each other a moment longer, frozen, eyes wide. The boy’s mouth twitches and for a horrible second Nico thinks he’s going to cry. But then he laughs. His nose scrunches and his mouth splits into a wide grin and he’s laughing, hard enough that he can’t catch his breath. “Yeah, I know,” he gasps, doubled over.

And then Nico’s laughing too, because gods what a stupid thing to say. And because it’s a beautiful thing, watching this kid laugh, bright and aching.

“Was it-” Older-Nico gasps out, “was it the husband that gave it away?” and the kid laughs even harder.

Sticks lets out an annoyed grunt from where she’d dozed off between their feet, pulls herself up and shakes. The two sons of Hades’ laughter fades to an occasional gasp or choke, both of them wiping at their eyes in the dying firelight.

“Fucking hell,” Nico groans, scrubbing his hands over his face. “That’s not actually what I meant to say - well, sort of, but that’s not how I meant to say it.”

His younger self gives him a true, honest smile, and Nico’s pretty sure it’s the best thing he’s seen all week.

“What I meant, I think,” Nico pauses, trying to assemble his thoughts. Gods, he’s over-tired and this has been the stupidest 24 hours. “I know that all - you know, your… sexu - your orientation… gods.” He buries his face in his hands. He’s almost forty fucking years old. Surely he should be able to talk about this.

“Okay, yeah?” his younger self sounds equally embarrassed, and that helps a bit.

Nico takes a deep breath. “Sorry. I know that right now, it’s…” he gestures vaguely. “It’s… It feels like a lot. Right? And with… you know. Percy. It all seems like the end of the fucking world. But I promise it’s really not. It’s just like… a blip. In the bigger picture. I think that’s what I wanted to say. Maybe,” he finishes weakly. He seriously considers throwing himself into the remains of the fire. Or maybe shadow-travelling back to bed. That’d probably be rude, though.

His younger self lets out an embarrassed laugh. “Yeah. Okay. Noted.”

Nico swallows, summoning a bit more coherence. “Sometimes it seems like all you want is Percy, right? But I promise you don’t. He’s just some dude with a cool sword and pretty eyes.”

The boy laughs shyly.

Nico shakes his head. “Stupid Percy.”

“Stupid Percy,” the boy agrees tentatively after a moment.

“See? Doesn’t that feel better?” Older-Nico grins. No offense to Percy. He’s pretty sure Percy would be on board.

“But… he was really nice today,” the boy allows. “Or yesterday, I guess.”

“Oh sure, now he’s nice,” Nico grumbles.

The fire’s burned down to embers now, although the full moon still bathes the backyard in cool, ghostly light. It’s really late now, and Nico can feel it in the itching in his eyes and the ache in his bones.

“About Hazel…” the boy begins after a moment. “I meet her soon, she said.”

Nico nods. “Mmm. Yeah. Like I said before, it’s… kind of a long story.” He leans back, stretches. For a moment he thinks longingly of his warm bed, the warm man waiting there, ready to pull Nico sleepily back into his arms.

But instead he says, “it’s getting kind of cool out here… but if you want to talk more, we could go inside?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” the boy says shyly. “I mean… I thought… since I won’t remember any of this…”

“You can ask me anything?” Nico smiles.

“Would that be okay?”

“Absolutely.”

[kyriat-stories]

The girls offered to help, and auntie Simadhne cleverly asked small questions, fishing for the real reason why they had come. 

- I’ve never met your parents, she said, but I hope they are in good health?

- Yes, thank you, Eira answered, they are both fine.

- So Noor, you and your sister have boyfriends? So many girls end up with a swollen bellies these days.

- Oh no, we are much too young for that! We are much too young to get married and such things.

- I don‘t know about that, Simadhne sighed, here around girls marry early. I was 14 summers when I got married to your uncle.

- What?! I can’t imagine getting married a year from now! That’s terrible!

- Not really. It is totally normal here. All my friends were about the same age when they got married. The terrible came later, she added subtly.

- Isn’t your daughter going to eat with us? Noor was puzzled that Amunet didn’t sit at the table with them.

- Our daughter? You think Amunet is our daughter?! Hahaha! Itaja giggled.

- Amunet is our doula. Simadhne explained. She came here after the war in Tobruk, and helps me with all the work in the garden.

- She doesn’t eat? Noor was still puzzled.

- Of course she does! Simadhne laughed. She will eat after she has washed the dishes and finished her work.

It dawned to Noor and Eira that it was not only the language and the food that they would have to get used to. The way of life was also very different. And some customs didn’t seem very easy to agree with.

- Since we have only one proper room in the house, you will have to sleep in the shed with Amunet, Simadhne continued. I hope you don’t mind?

- No, no, not at all! Can we talk to her? Eira felt she had to ask, she was afraid to step on anyone’s toes.

- Yes of course! She is not very fluent in Kretika, but better than you are, so that should work out perfectly, Simadhne smiled.

Amunet didn’t say anything, but didn’t look too enthusiastic. Maybe she wasn’t too happy to share her sleeping quarters with two strangers, maybe she didn’t fully understand what was said, but for sure she knew that she could not object.

In the evening Itaja went off somewhere and left the women alone at home. The atmosphere was immediately lighter. Simadhne and Amunet both seemed more relaxed, and chatted in Kretika while knitting.

- What a day! Eira said to Noor in their own language.

- Indeed! Noora replied. I feel exhausted physically and mentally. There are so many things to take in.

- We will learn. We have the Ngo-spirit you know! And auntie seems like a nice person, I’m sure she will help us adjust.

- But our uncle!! What a rude bully! He is nothing like our father, I almost can’t believe they are brothers!

- Yes, siblings can be very different, Eira nodded. So are we. But we are both good people, and not anything like our uncle!

- Thank Mrs. Moon for that!

- I guess it will not be easy living here. On the other hand, it’s not easy living anywhere. But having people around you that care for you, is really important, and that we have. If nobody else, we have each other.

- Always sis. Always.

                                          [End of chapter 5]

A huge thank you to those of you who have followed, liked and commented on my story so far. It means a lot, and I am truly grateful.   💕

Previous | Index | Start Ch5 | Characters | Chapter 6  

[msfbgraves]

What do Terry and Daniel do for their first anniversary in MobAU? Obsessed with this AU, I only wish you'd upload it to A03 so it's easier to follow ;(

Terry Silver. Respected businessman, very recent father and (hopefully) beloved mate - kicked out of his house on his 1 year anniversary!

"Stop hovering!" Daniel had said. "Samantha and I are perfectly fine! Don't you have somewhere important to be?"

"You are important."

A laugh. "Flattery won't work. Terry, I need a few hours alone or I'm going to bite someone."

"I love it when - "

"Out! And don't come back till 7."

Isn't that great. Anything might happen. At least he can take over the surveillance himself -

"Madonna mi, Terry, I can see you! Get out of the street!"

It would not be right to lose his temper at an as yet vulnerable mate. But neither would it be right to set a precedent. He needs advice...

Amanda is cackling at the other end of the line. "Oh, Terry, you knobhead, have you not left the house for a month?"

"Of course I have. Plenty of places open at 5."

"5 AM...?"

"People do not raid houses at dawn. But they're usually still up. And pretty malleable."

She sighs. "Terry. I don't know if that's insane or brilliant, but if you actually want my advice, you have to go back to normal -" he breathes in - "Don't interrupt. You have your people?"

"It's not their pup!"

"But it is their life, and you are known to kill slowly."

He snorts. "I could do with a good one right now."

She laughs. "Haven't gone soft, then?"

"Moved up in the world, love. Not my job nowadays."

"Such a saint." They're both silent. "Terry," she says softly. "I know you love them. But when Olivia engaged a dancing master for my Anna I had to step in, too."

He smiles. "She's walking then?"

He hears a disparaging sound. "As if Her Ladyship would ever be allowed to touch the ground, going by Olivia. No, not yet. But soon."

"I'd love to see her."

A pause. "I don't want to travel with her now, Twig. And you can't, with Daniel."

It's not the real reason.

She clears her throat. "So, paper. What you get him?"

"Sheet music."

"Oh? Who by?"

"Robert Johnson."

She hisses. "Way to set the mood!"

"It's personal."

"Good." Another slight pause. "Twig, love. You'll be OK. The two of you will be OK."

His throat hurts. "I'm trying, Mandy."

Her voice is soft. "I know you are. Don't try too hard, now, Terry."

He can't go crying on a transatlantic call. "I'll be grand. Love you, darlin'."

"Love you, Twig."

He sits for a while after hanging up the receiver.

He and Danny boy... they're married. They're mated. They have had a pup before the year was even out.

But does he have his Danny's heart?

The question is redundant. The deed is done, till death do them part. They do their duty to each other. He keeps his Danny safe, his Danny keeps him warm. They make each other laugh, they keep each other fed, each in their own way. They're building a home. That's what love is, all the little actions -

But to say it, and not hear it back...

It would destroy something. They can't risk it. He... he knows he couldn't bear it, himself. He'd punish the boy for it, if the words were not returned, and what misery would that be, as long as they both shall live. It's something he envies John and his Betsy. She, a beta with nothing to her name. But she ran to him at the altar, and how close he held her as they danced, how softly he stroked her cheek. They had nothing but love.

And Terry's darling Danny...

He'd burn the world for him, he's spoilt him, he's held him, tickled him, cradled both him and their Sammy in his arms. Shared kisses sweet as treacle. Mated him, bred him, and is very much looking forward to doing that again. Yes, he's taken him, in every sense.

He thought it would feel strong and it did.

He'd never thought he'd pay for it.

Alright, Silver. Nothing is for free.

He shakes his head. There's many shipments he has to look into. Amazing what you can smuggle if you hide it in dirt. How little you have to pay those even willing to go near it.

As they said in Rome: money doesn't stink.

He does freshen up and change before he goes home. He's had his wedding suit altered. Danny's golden chain cleaned. The flowers will have been delivered by now. A new set of teddies for his Sammy girl.

Sweet Mary, mother of God, he's...

He's nervous.

But when he comes back to the house, he's greeted by...

Stew. And what smells like soda bread. The flowers are arranged in a beautiful centerpiece he definitely didn't order. A table set for two, a small package at his seat.

"Sit, sit, I made you a cocktail," Daniel says. "Ok, watch that it all doesn't burn when I do my hair, yeah?"

His throat is aching. "You did all this?"

"What? No, there were six of us," he says, giving him a quick kiss. "They said Laura O'Donnell is the best cook around, she taught me. Like your mother made it, or close as you can get. Terry?"

He blinks. Hard. "Smells... smells grand."

"I wanted gnocchi tomorrow anyway," Daniel says. "I fed Sammy half an hour ago, she should be out for a good while." He looks at the packages Terry carried in. "Oh, presents!"

He pulls him close. "Hurry up, then."

Daniel nuzzles him. "Hmmm." Then he bounces off.

Terry's sure Daniel meant for the cocktail to be savored, but he downs it, and chases it with whiskey. Focus, Silver, focus! He puts the packages near Daniel's plate, walks over to the stove and lifts off a lid.

Just like his Mammy's. Jaysis.

Here Daniel is, though, in a white blazer Terry hasn't seen before. It's out before Terry knows it: "Well, hello there, gorgeous!"

Daniel looks away with a soft smile. "I'm not supposed to talk to strange men."

Terry flashes a smile of his own. "I won't tell if you won't."

A giggle, then he looks down again. "Oh no, sir. I'm spoken for!"

"Oh, yeah?" Terry says, reaching for him. "Why don't you show me that little neck and prove it?" He tilts Daniel's head. "What's thi -"

A new necklace, and a pendant:

"TS".

"You've... you've had it all along?" (He's raised such a stink at the jeweler's!)

He blushes crimson. "I'm sorry, Terry, I swear, I paid them double for this one!" He slips away, straight to the table. "Open your present, you'll see why!"

Terry opens the red and silver package and sees pictures, his Danny boy and Sammy girl, Danny's collar proudly opened to show the bitemark, tasteful but undoubtedbly there. Around his neck the necklace he is wearing now, "TS" in red and gold, and his puppy, held up proudly for the camera, clutches a bracelet with the same in silver. Daniel looks down with him. "Isn't she perfect?"

"Yes," he says, pulling his Danny close against his chest.

Then his mate sniffs. "Daiiii! The food!" And suddenly there's a flurry of activity, a litany of Italian curses, and an exasperated: "'Watch it' means you have to turn the fire down, Terry, how have you not poisoned yourself yet," and Terry sweeps him up, bridal style, for a struggling kiss.

They'll be OK.

[phant0m-graves]

Beau felt kind of like a child doing this, she was sitting on the ground with a daisy in her hand playing with the petals and doing that ‘they love me/they love me not’ game that little girls play in the schoolyard, it was honestly embarrassing and she’d be mortified if either of her brothers saw her out here because the teasing would never end if they did. She didn’t get why she was so hung up on Clove, this girl who walked into her life that night at the diner and never left, she just didn’t get it. 

“Beau! Hey Beau!” speak and they shall appear Beau guessed, it was Clove, dressed just as pretty as she always is, with a plain pale pink cardigan buttoned in the front and a white tennis skirt with a pair of white and pink tennis shoes with scrunched down frilly socks. She skipped over, her strawberry blonde hair bouncing with her movements, it was in that style that made her look adorable, the crown of her hair pulled back with a ribbon with her curtain bangs framing her face perfectly. When she reached Beau she knelled down and smiled that pretty smile that she has, Beau smiled back.

“Hey Clove, how ya been? Haven’t seen you in a minute.” It was true Clove kind of disappeared for about a week before Ace, Beau’s brother, saw her in the market but he said when he tried to talk to her she freaked out and ran. Beau wasn’t sure what was going on with her but she looked physically fine, with no cuts or bruises, no dark circles under her eyes, and no excessive makeup to hide any of those things, she looked fine and normal.

“Oh, I’ve been good, sorry for like pulling a disappearing act last week something came up and my dad and I had to make an emergency trip back to Georgia.” Right, Cloves’ not from around here she's from Athens Georgia, Beau had been once and thought it was a stuffy college town with too many people and not enough space for all of them.

“Emergency? Everything alright, right? No one dead?” 

“Ha! No, no one dead, just some drama with my mother’s will we had to go back to talk to my aunts and the lawyers.” She took a deep breath. “My aunts are fighting us every step of the way with the will it's driving my dad up the wall, but that's whatever what have you been up to since I’ve been gone?”

“Um, not much, just the normal day-to-day stuff, you know?” Beau didn’t think she did, see Clove was probably the wealthiest kid in town so she didn’t really know what it was like to work two jobs at seventeen, well she didn’t know what it was like to even work one much less two. “Oh! Sam wanted me to ask you on a date for her.”

“Um… well… I’ll pass, I don’t date girls like that.”

“Girls like what?”

“You know snotty, stuck-up brats I guess.” Huh well that’s something new, Beau figured that Clove wouldn’t care about stuff like that but apparently, she does. Beau liked conversations like this, she learns so much about Clove and doesn’t even notice until later. 

“Eh, she’s not totally awful, she just doesn’t have the best awareness of herself.” Who was Beau kidding? Sam was terrible and she knew that about herself and never let anyone forget it. 

“Ha! She totally is… but whatever, she knows I’ll never go out with her, I think she just asks me out to get a reaction at this point, hey what time is it?” She looked at me with her green eyes that could stare into your soul.

“Um, one thirty I think let me check,” I pulled out my phone and looked at the screen, Clove got me this phone, my old one was pretty outdated and barely worked at this point. “Yeah, one thirty, you got somewhere to be, cher?”

“Crap! Oh! Um… I love you! Gotta go, I’ll see you later.” She lurched forward and kissed Beau on the lips before getting up and rushing away back the way she came from leaving Beau in a state of shock, she sat there not moving before she heard her mother calling for her at their house, she snapped up and rushed towards her house with a massive smile on her face ready to gush to her mom about Clove for probably the millionth time, but this time she had something big to tell her.

[luckyfailuregirl]

Sorry I know this is a bit of a different post for me but I need a place to put my thoughts (Vent below, tw suicide mention)

I just don't know if I can really do this anymore, I'm just so tired. I feel like even when I'm typing this out now, I won't properly be able to explain what I'm feeling, but it's better to say something than nothing.

I feel like a fucking faker every time I try to confront this

But the days feel so hazy everything is so fuzzy and I don't even know where this came from

I almost cried like 10 different times today in school. And it's not like anything is too difficult for me it's just so overwhelming

My heart starts feeling really heavy and I can't breathe

I embarassed myself really bad today and I feel like a failure

In second hour we had this debate tournament and I got to the top 5 people left and we ran out of time, so then my teacher had to pick winners last minute

I was kind of confident when I first went into it, and I've debated well before, but I was just shaking so bad this time. I feel like that's what ruined my point

The teacher picked two other people to win over me

Which is inherently fine, but I felt like a let down. I felt stupid. I felt like a fucking idiot. I made a fool of myself in front of the whole class and I lost. And it feels even sillier because it doesn't even matter to anyone else, my group said I was fine, I'm the only one who wanted to cry over it. I'm the only one being sensitive.

The next hour I asked a really stupid question and to be honest things just went downhill from there

I wanna give up so bad I'm so fucking tired. Everytime I'm in school this year I just wish I was home, and everytime I'm home I just wish I was somewhere else. Nothing feels right. I have nowhere to go. Home doesn't feel like home and it doesn't feel like there's anyone I can really trust because I just keep letting everybody down so why would they put up with me

In gym, my locker jammed. Like twice

Again, a small thing, but small things really tripped me up today

Things just get worse as the week goes on

There's so much to do and none of these words feel right so I just don't feel okay I just don't feel normal I just want this to be over I want to die so bad and be done with this

Nothing's ever been so unclear before

I walk around and it just feels like I'm on auto pilot I just feel really really tired. I can't keep my eyes open really even when I do get the exact same amount of sleep as I had last year (and last year I was perfectly fine, nothing ever got this bad)

And when I'm around people I could possibly trust I just want to cry but I don't because it's stupid so we laugh and I move on

I don't know I don't know what to do I just wish I wasn't so stupid. I wish I wasn't born this way because I know I'm just a burden and I'm troubling everyone

I rely too much on people who I don't confide in because they have life bad enough already and I'm growing more distant with anyone else in my life. I barely text my friend group anymore I just sit in bed and consume endless amounts of media and try not to lose everything I care about

I don't know. Vent over I can't word it right so I give up