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piece-of-pierce · 3 days ago

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Gotham’s Ghosts are an open secret. Outside the city, people think it’s a metaphor referring to how old the city is and the near-endless history carved into every corner.

Gothamites know better though. Some call it a joke, most refuse to say it out loud, but all respect Gotham and her Ghosts. She is a city that cares for and protects her own. Those who are hers never truly leave and those who are not can feel her desire that they do.

Out-of-town-ers tend to trip more, feel paranoid, always catch the red light and rain, and plenty other little things in Gotham that show they are unwanted by the city. The not a joke is that these are acts of her Ghosts, those who once walked her streets now working together to carry out her more subtle desires. The Bats and Birds are believed by some to be more powerful Ghosts, her elites, permitted to carry out more tangible tasks.

Truth is, the only thing Gothamites have wrong is the Bats and Birds. They’re helped by the ghosts who make bullets stray just right and keep their footsteps quieter than is possible. They have Gotham’s blessing and her Ghosts’ assistance, for they are hers and protectors of her others, but they do not yet hear her decrees.

So, when one Bird leaves Gotham, she frets and her Ghosts grow restless. When the news comes that only his corpse will return, they grieve with their knights, both hoping and fearing that their lost bird will join them.

Instead, he wakes up, he wanders, he leaves again (and oh Gotham, how she weeps to see him go, knowing how it had gone before, raining tears down on her people and sending her ghosts to make all feel the dread, if only that one might notice the danger of her missing bird, the danger of tragedy striking a second time.) Then! Then he returns. He returns strong and angry with a ghost of his own festering within but he is home and Gotham beams and her Ghosts all swarm to see him safe.

They aid him in his efforts to rid her of the Mad Clown, then show the Bat their displeasure when he harms Her Bird to stop those attempts. The Dark Knight hears his footsteps and feels his weight heavier than before, adapting as much as he can but only finding relief when he finally abandons his anger at Her Bird. Her ghosts gather around him in the night once more, but they decide amongst themselves that they will leave again if need be and far more choose to remain with the Returned Bird, rather than the Dark Knight.

Between their assistance to Gotham's favored and little tricks along the street, the City's Ghosts have a place to which they retreat. A place to refresh themselves and gather their strength before returning to the larger city. They have a bar where they go, formed by Gotham herself, her own Afterlife for her own Ghosts so that they need never leave her. It is a passable imitation of what they lost when they chose to stay and serve their City.

Gotham's Afterlife is too closely connected to the living Gotham, though, and garners attention from some of the living. Gotham is too deeply entwined with her people and struggles to keep this place of pride a secret from them, so calls to the Realms with a request of a gatekeeper. The Realms respond and send her their favored, a ghost who lives and is experienced in guarding the space between Ghosts and the Living. He becomes Gotham's only living Ghost, a caretaker of her Afterlife, and a friend to the other Ghosts. He even brings a few more who have worked alongside him before (an entertainer and her lover, who happily takes a position as the guard, a young couple who love to travel and take on the job of leading the bats and birds where they need to go, a cook who ensures the Ghosts all replenish themselves properly and regularly, and a worker who keeps additional watch over the warehouse district that desperately needs it. There are even more who flit in and out and Gotham and her Ghosts take to them all quite quickly.)

It is with time that this Gatekeeper and his friends become Gothamites in their own rights. It is also with time that Gotham's Ghosts share that the spirit in her Returned Bird's chest is slowly weakening with time, speeding up slightly when around other ghosts. It is with pride that Gotham learns her own Ghosts can rid him of this foreign influence.

Of course, the only reasonable course of action is to lead the Returned Bird to her Afterlife. Perhaps time with more Ghosts will speed up the process. Gotham has the Ghosts with her Returned Bird start leading him toward her Afterlife, night after night until he finally finds it. He doesn't go in, but he returns to study it, night after night. Then, finally, with enough prompting by the Ghosts, he approaches. He steps through the door, willingly entering himself into their world, allowing Gotham's Ghosts to finally reveal themselves to him.

And oh, what a reveal it is, to welcome the Returned Bird home at last. For even as he stands wary, Gotham beams with pride, her Ghosts all looking to the figure in the doorway, only some with recognition but all with respect for the Living soul who has earned Gotham's pride and the right to see their Afterlife, let alone walk in.

-=o0o=-

From the moment he steps over the threshold, Jason knows he's been drugged. He feels strangely calm, despite the unexplainable knowledge that he is being watched by everyone in the bar, a strangely full bar for a place nobody has gone in or out of, and the pits have quieted in a way he has never known since coming back to life. They're not gone, but for once he's only hearing overlapping whispers instead of the usual constant screaming in his skull.

All these strange people, clearly locals in how they carry themselves, make him feel like this is a sort of homecoming. Unwilling to draw too much attention or behave too strangely, he quickly moves on from the doorway and makes his way to the bar against the wall, settling onto a stool.

"Welcome to the Afterlife, how may I-woah! ...okay, hi, new guy... I'll be with you in a moment." The bartender, one of the few people in the bar who didn't look like he was going to a 'decades in history' themed party, had stark white hair, pale skin, and bright green eyes. They were glowing slightly, too, and his lips had a concerning green tint to them.

"Take your time," Jason said, leaning against the bar with a nod that the bartender returned before darting through a door that seemed to lead into a kitchen. While he was gone, Jason took the chance to take another look around. The people here were varied, some looking like they'd just walked in off the street but most looking like they were stuck in time and had been for a century or more.

Jason hadn't seen anyone going in or out. They mostly looked like they'd been showing up and staying for a hundred years at least. Jason had tried reading Percy Jackson as a kid, and while it didn't hold his interest for long, he remembered some parts well enough not to like how this was looking.

"Here. Might not be what you were planning to order, but dude, you need it. I don't know what you've been up to but it left something rancid in your system." The bartender was back, skin flushed green and a crooked grin on his lips, doing nothing to hide the concern in his eyes. "I'm Phantom, by the way. Sorry about the wait."

"Call me Jason."

"Nice to meet you, Jason. You're gonna want to chug that, by the way. It's kinda gross, but what medicine tastes good?" Medicine? "Just trust me, it'll flush out all that grossness in your system. It'll make Gotham happy." The bartender, Danny, returned to tending the bar as if nothing was strange.

Jason had to get out of here. Fast.

DPxDC Afterlife, But It's A Bar

[discontinued, feel free to add on]

It was weird. Not wrong, alarming or dangerous type of weird. Not good or comforting either.

Just plain weird.

It all started a few days ago, on Wednesday, to be exact. On a rare occasion, Jason was patrolling outside of his territory ("cover for me, I have a date" my ass, Replacement), and he spotted something out of place. A neon green, almost toxic colored sign that read "Afterlife".

Honestly, who names a place like that? But judging by the placement and design, it was a bar, and Jason could almost appreciate the irony. Maybe it had a slogan along the lines of "our drinks will send you beyond the lines of life and death" or something. But at the same time, it could be interpreted as "alcohol can and will be the death of you," which, technically, is not the best PR campaign for a bar.

Jason decided to visit the place anyway. He was curious about the implied death joke, sue him.

Of course, he didn't visit immediately. He was still on patrol, and he just heard the sound of gunshots to the west. Not to say that the place was quiet.

(Oddly quiet for a bar in Gotham, now that he thinks about it)

Anyway, the next day, he went there not as Red Hood but as Jason Todd, an ordinary civilian who decided to grab a beer in the evening. Only to not find the place.

He couldn't have just miss it - he remembered the street, he knew the building, he was absolutely fucking sure where the "Afterlife" should have been. He searched the whole block nonetheless, and then proceeded to check the whole area, but to no avail.

Damn, it seems like he can't get to the afterlife both literally and- the other literally. Yeah, he might be having too much fun with the oddly chosen name for the nonexistent bar.

It didn't exist on the maps and internet either. At this point, Jason was contemplating the idea of it being a hallucination or a dream. He even checked the recording on his helmet from Wednesday night, but the whole time he was in the area, the video was filled with interference and static.

Weird. Slightly suspicious, but Red Robin, who's been patrolling the same area for weeks before him, never reported any interferences, so it probably had something to do with his helmet and not the area in general.

On Thursday night, he purposefully went there right after patrol. And the nonexistent bar suddenly existed again! The same neon green sign, the same quiet street around it.

Seriously, what is this mysterious fuckery?

Now, if he was a Bat, he would have reported this to others and investigated, lurked around in shadows, and approached with caution. If he was a Robin, he would have still reported and then straight up marched in there and saw how it goes.

Alas, he was Red Hood, so he decided to watch for the bar guests and see just who the hell goes in and out of the place.

And there was the next weird thing.

No one was going in or out. Jason sat there for a whole hour, and not even one person entered or left the building. Despite the muffled sounds of music, voices and laughter coming from the place.

The final kicker was the fact that after some careful questioning and dropping hints, Jason found out that no one except him ever saw the "Afterlife"'s sign. No one's even heard of it, both the Batclan and the Gothamites.

The fuck?

So he did the next logical thing. He brought the smartest member of the Bats with him. Tim owed him anyway. Might as well use it now instead of later.

Friday night proved two things: one, Tim was still his favorite to work with out of all the bats and birds, not questioning anything as to why Jason is asking him to check out a bar, and two, Jason just might be going insane.

Tim couldn't see the "Afterlife" even when Jason pointed at the sign from not further than ten feet. The irony of the stipid name was not even amusing anymore.

Tim didn't ask any questions after this experiment, and Jason didn't want to admit that he is losing the grip of reality, so they ended up simply parting their ways after. Can the Pits cause brain damage? More damage than there was in the first place, that is.

Now that he thinks about it, the color of the sign is really similar to the Lazarus waters. He should have noticed it sooner, but in his defense, who would look at the bubbling pool of toxic waters and think, "Oh, that would make a dope neon sign"? Apparently, the owner of the "Afterlife".

The color might be just a coincidence.

...no, in the world he lives in, coincidences like this just don't happen. Besides, Jason doesn't believe in shit like fate or destiny.

So, here he is, on Saturday night, standing in front of the door to the Afterlife. It would have been funny if it wasn't so weird. What's even more weird is that the closer he gets to the door, the less nervous he feels, like the place is radiating some calming aura. Wait, no, scratch that, Jason is so not calling it a calming aura for God's sake. That sounds just like those homemade witches with their crystals, tarot readings, and whatnot.

He's going to call it... tranquilizer vibes. Yeah, that's better.

He takes a deep breath, getting ready to see whatever it is on the other side, pushes the door open, and walks into the bar.

...

Whatever he's been expecting to see, it's not this.

#batman #dpxdc #fanfiction #danny phantom #dp x dc #writing #creative writing #dc x dp #dcxdp #bartender danny #jason todd #gotham city #Gotham is Alive #Gotham's Ghosts #dead on main #dc x dp prompt #if anyone wants to write this feel free

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veronicaphoenix · 2 days ago

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the unmaking of a warrior | epilogue pt. 2

word count: 10k | reading time: 40mins. aprox. | series masterpost | my works ✨

Tags & trigger warnings: this takes place 2 years after the events that took place in epilogue part 1. Established relationship, dad!noah, angst, fluff, pregnancy, birth giving (flashback), mentions/descriptions of blood, sexual innuendos regarding bondage/rope play, skinny dipping, sexual content including oral sex (fem. rec.), p. in v. unprotected, creampie). Fluff, fluff, and a lot of fluff because dad!noah dad!noah dad!noah 🥹 can't get enough of him. I've wanted to write dad!noah for ages and he's finally here. And again, I've never given birth, i've never been pregnant, so excuse my lack of accuracy on that matter. If there's anything I've missed, please let me know. x

Nearly two years later

Winter had lingered longer than usual, but at last, spring had arrived, bringing with it a burst of color and warmth. The sun was gentle, neither too hot nor too faint, while a soft breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers.

As soon as the weather brightened, Noah and I began spending more time outdoors—whether it was venturing deep into the valley, lounging by the river’s edge, or simply relaxing in our garden.

This morning, I sat on a blanket spread across the grass in the front yard, with Trouble resting behind me. Her large, furry body made for a perfect backrest as I watched Levi carefully pick flowers and place them all over Trouble’s fur. At first, Trouble lay still, tolerating Levi’s enthusiastic flower-decorating, but as the pile of blooms grew, she huffed in mild protest. Once, she even let out a low growl, and I gently reminded her that he was just a baby, before telling Levi to give her a little break.

“But she looks so pretty!” he insisted, his version of “pretty” sounding more like “piuti”.

“She’s already got enough flowers on her,” I said. “Why don’t you put some on Mommy instead?”

“Yes!” he shouted, delighted by the idea. He wobbled over to me on unsteady legs, and began placing the flowers carefully on my hair.

His shoulder-length brown hair, which we had only trimmed a couple of times since he was born, had been neatly tied up in a bun earlier that morning. But after hours of running and playing a few soft strands had escaped and now hung loosely, framing his sun-kissed face. He looked so much like Noah.

When one of the flowers fell into my lap, I picked it up and held it out to him.

“Do you know what this one is called?”

He took a quick glance and shook his head before resuming his task of adorning my hair.

“It’s a daisy,” I told him.

“Daisy,” he repeated slowly.

I reached for the basket sitting nearby, filled with a mix of toys and snacks. Levi’s attention was quickly diverted when I picked a box that contained fresh strawberries cut into tiny pieces. Their sweet fragance filled the air when I removed the lid. I picked one out and held it out to him.

“Strawberry?” he asked, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Strawberry,” I confirmed, smiling. I brought the fruit to his mouth, and he took a small, eager bite, juice dribbling down his chin. I wiped it away with my thumb. “One more?” I offered, holding up another.

He nodded, this time more vigorously as he leaned in for a second bite, his tiny hands grabbing at mine to get the strawberry faster into his mouth.

With a full mouth, he mumbled something incoherent, his eyes darting to the basket, no doubt looking for more treats. I reached inside and handed him one of his toys. He eagerly accepted a wooden cart and started to roll it back and forth over my legs. At least that was better than him rolling it on Trouble’s fur and igniting her fury.

I spotted movement on the path leading from the village. A tall and slender figure made itself visible as it approached us, and that familiar flutter in my stomach came back. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight of my husband.

Noah was walking toward us. He looked so effortlessly striking wearing all black, his katana at his side and a radiant smile meant just for us. His hair, tied back in a loose bun, was longer than it’d ever been, and one loose strand was swaying gently with the breeze.

He wasn’t alone.

Nestled against his hip was Sakura, one of her small hands on his shoulder, grapping tightly at his clothing. Though she was Levi’s twin and nearly two, she couldn’t yet walk, but that didn’t slow her down—she was happy to crawl everywhere. Her brown hair was tied up in a tiny bun to match her Papa’s, and it gave her an air of determination and pride. She loved mimicking him in everything. She was a courageous and bold little one, just like Levi.

“Look who’s coming,” I said to Levi, drawing his attention toward the path.

Levi’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face as he spotted Noah and his sister.

“Papa!” he called out, his small body bouncing with excitement. He started to run toward his father but stopped when I pulled him back toward the blanket, keeping him close.

As Noah reached us, he bent down just as Sakura squirmed in his arms, extending her body and arms toward me. I scooped her up, cradling her close and planting a kiss on her cheek, her little nuzzle against my chest filling my heart.

With his arms now free, Noah crouched lower and scratched Trouble’s fur.

“What happened to you?” He teased. “You look more colorful than usual.”

Trouble huffed, but as soon as Noah was laughing, she lifted her head to lick his hand. Noah smiled, rubbing her head before turning his focus to Levi.

“Hey, little warrior,” he said warmly. “How you doing?” He swept Levi up with ease and tossed him into the air, eliciting shrieks of joy. Levi giggled uncontrollably, his laughter filling the air as Noah caught him and repeated the throw.

Once Levi settled, he pointed excitedly at Trouble, his eyes sparkling.

“Look, Papa! I put flowers on her.”

“I saw it. That’s a ton of flowers.”

Levi beamed proudly, then, as if remembering something important, pointed to me.

“I put flowers on Mommy, too!”

Noah’s eyes shifted, softening as they landed on me. I was holding Sakura in my arms, who was eagerly nibbling on a piece of strawberry now. Our gazes met, and in that moment, for just a couple of seconds, everything else faded. The warmth in Noah’s eyes was as if it had just struck him again how lucky he was to have me by his side, as his wife. His gaze held mine, filled with both admiration and love, and I felt the familiar heat rise to my cheeks.

“She looks soooo priti!” Levi shouted, his voice high with excitement.

Noah’s lips parted.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

His words sent a rush of warmth through me, and despite all the years we’d spent together, I still found myself flushing under his brown eyes.

But the spell was broken by Sakura’s small voice. She raised her hand and waved it, her tiny fingers catching Noah’s attention.

“Me?!”

Noah sat down beside me on the blanket, letting Levi wander off to pick more flowers.

“You,” Noah began, poking her cheek, “are the prettiest babygirl I’ve ever seen.”

Content, Sakura gave him one satisfied smile, a bit shy at her Papa’s compliment as her cheeks tinted pink and she defleated in my lap.

Noah laughed. I would never get tired of the way he smiled at our children—of the joy they brought him.

A couple of minutes later, distracted by her brother’s doings, Sakura crawled out of my arms and followed Levi, and Noah and I both watched our twins explore their little world.

“Was she okay?” I asked Noah without taking my eyes of the children.

“She was as good as ever,” he told me. “Sat still on her spot during most of the training session, clapping everytime someone lifted their sword. Pretty sure she’s ready for a nap now.”

Seeing her playing lively with Levi raised some doubts.

When I turned to look at Noah, I caught him staring intently at me. A second after, he was leaning over me, tucking some hairs behind my ear and kissing the corner of my mouth.

“You look beautiful today,” he whispered.

“You said that yesterday,” I retorted, but the grin spread through my face nonetheless.

Noah shrugged, still leaning to me.

“I am merely stating facts.”

I tsked my tongue and placed a hand on Noah’s jaw to bring him to me and kiss him on the lips. Right as I was doing so, we heard a yelp.

Sakura, who had been crawling with purpose, always trying to catch up with her more mobile brother, had stopped by a bush. With her tiny hands she had tried to reach up for a flower perched higher than she could comfortably grasp. And as she tried to stand on wobbling legs, she toppled over, a small gasp escaping her as she fell back onto the grass.

Noah was up in an instant, rushing to her side before I could even react, his speed startling in its swiftness. Levi stopped what he was doing to look between his baby sister and his father with wide eyes,

I exhaled, seeing Noah scoop Sakura up into his arms, checking her. She wasn’t hurt, just surprised. I watched Noah’s face contorn in concern, and I was suddenly thrown back in time, to the day the twins were born.

We hadn’t known I was carrying two babies. After I had given birth to Sakura earlier than expected, we thought the ordeal was over. I had been sore, exhausted, and overwhelmed with joy as I held our daughter in our arms and then when I passed her to Noah. But before I could relish much in the moment, my screams pierced through the room, Sakura had been taken out from Noah’s arms, and he’d been ushered out.

To this day, it was still the worst and best day of Noah’s life.

He thought he was going to lose me, unaware that the pain that was seizing me had to do with the fact that there was still another baby inside me, desperate to come into the world. Levi had been bigger than Sakura from birth. Noah held this belief that he’d been taking care of his sister inside my womb and he had been a gentleman and let her out first. However, the contractions that came with him were at full force. The surprise and intensity of it all left me feeling drained, my body struggling to cope. The second birth had been arduous, and by the time Levi was born, I was too weak to stay conscious. I had also lost a lot of blood.

After Levi’s birth, Rika had rushed to find Noah.

“What happened?” Noah had asked, frozen as they placed his babygirl back in his arms, but the familiar cry he heard didn’t come from the baby he was holding. His mind was racing. He looked around. Then, he spotted Milla not too far. She was holding his babygirl. In a heartbeat, the truth hit him. He was holding a boy. There were two babies. Twins.

His gaze flickered back to me immediately, terrified of what he would see. He spotted me, pale and unmoving on the futon. Panic filled his chest as he stared at the blood beneath me.

“She is… She’s going to be okay, right?” he asked, because there was no other possible question—or outcome. His voice had barely been steady as he held our son close, unable to tear his eyes from my motionless form.

Rika reassured him.

“She’s going to be okay. She lost a lot of blood, but she’ll recover. She just needs time. In the meantime, you need to be with your children.”

As she said this, Rika placed Sakura into Noah’s free arm. He stood there, arms full, cradling both babies at once. He looked down at them, their tiny faces nestled against his chest, his long arms able to hold both of them securely. His heart swelled with joy at the sight of his twins—one boy, one girl—but worry gnawed at him because I wasn’t there to share the moment.

Noah carried them over to where I lay, sinking down beside me on the futon. He sat quietly, overwhelmed by this mixture of happiness and fear. Our children drifted into sleep, their little breaths soft and steady. Soon, we were alone. The four of us—my family.

Hours passed, and eventually, I began to stir. My body ached, and my vision was blurry at first. I blinked, trying to focus, my head heavy on the pillow. The first thing I saw was Noah, sitting by my side, his face drawn with exhaustion and relief. He was whispering softly, his voice low and calming, but it wasn’t until I tilted my head slightly that I realized who he was speaking to.

There, lying beside me on white blankets, were two wide-eyed babies. Both were staring up at their Papa, their small bodies wrapped in soft cloth. The boy yawned, his tiny hands stretching out as he blinked at the world. Sakura’s dark eyes were fixed on Noah’s face, her little fingers twitching as if already reaching for him.

I blinked, disbelief flooding my mind. Two. There were two.

“Noah...?”

He turned to me, relief spreading through him like a soothing balm as he realized I was awake. His smile was tender, and though his words were quiet, the weight of them was heavy with love.

“We have twins,” he said, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it himself. “We have two of them.”

As Noah sat back down beside me, holding Sakura close, Levi resumed his flower hunt, and I cherished the fact that our children had been born in a safe space where they could explore and grow to be who they wanted to be. Noah’s presence beside me had always felt like an anchor, always there when I needed him, but since he’d become a father, his attention and support had doubled. He caught my eye and smiled, as if reading my thoughts. I smiled back, feeling that familiar tug of affection, the one that never seemed to fade, even after everything we’d been through.

Just as I reached over to brush a stray petal from Levi’s hair, a soft rustling behind us caught our attention and I saw Rika approaching.

Noah stiffened slightly, always on alert. Rika smiled warmly, hands clasped together as she approached the front yard.

“There’s someone here to see you,” she announced. She lingered just long enough for my heart to stutter with curiosity—and a hint of worry. Sensing the suspense, she quickly added, “It’s your grandmother.”

The tension eased from my shoulders. Beside me, Noah chuckled, shaking his head.

“Always keeping us on our toes,” he said with a grin, glancing down at Sakura, who perked up at the mention of a visitor, at the same time as Trouble thumped her tail excitedly.

Grandma had always been a frequent visitor, long before Noah and I were even married. I’d tried to convince her to move into the Sanctuary, but she loved her little house in the village too much. It wasn’t far, and she promised to visit often—and she did. Her visits had only become more frequent after learning she would soon be a great-grandmother, a title that seemed to fill her with boundless happiness.

Noah stood, settling Sakura back onto the blanket next to me.

“I’ll go give her a hand,” he offered, knowing Grandma could use the extra support these days, now that she leaned on a walking stick. She’d probably appreciate Noah’s arm to hold onto.

As Noah walked toward the path from the center of the Sanctuary to greet her, I leaned back on my hands, watching him go. He moved with that quiet strength, always so sure of himself, even when the world around us felt uncertain. It was hard to believe how far we’d come since the chaos of the twins’ birth—the exhaustion, the fear, and then the joy that had followed. Now, here we were, with two vibrant, curious children and the life we’d always dreamed of.

Sakura, back to her usual determined self, began to crawl toward Levi, her hands gripping the grass as she tried to keep up with him. Levi, busy with his bouquet of freshly picked flowers, spotted her coming and toddled over to meet her halfway, offering a dandelion he’d plucked from the ground.

Inside the house, the air was warm and filled with the comforting scent of tea brewing. Noah was in the kitchen, preparing cups for everyone while the children played on the floor. I sat across from my grandmother, listening to her stories, her voice like a soothing melody.

Before long, Sakura set her sights on Noah’s katana, which hung temptingly on its stand by the entrance. Her little body wobbled on all fours as she began her mission and crawled toward it, her eyes gleaming with determination. I watched her from my seat, knowing Noah wouldn’t let her get far. Sakura seemed to sense this as well, for she paused midway and tilted her head to peer toward the open kitchen, where her Papa was busy pouring tea. Cleverly, she veered toward a cabinet, hoping to slip out of his sight. It was a smart tactic, but despite her stealth, the soft patter of her tiny hands and knees on the wooden floor soon caught Noah’s attention. Pausing, he raised his brows at the suspicious sound. The noise came again, like a small animal sneaking through the room, then silence. A grin tugged at Noah’s lips.

Moments later, a tiny hand peeked out from behind a piece of furniture, and Noah stifled a laugh as he resumed his work with the tea.

Without looking up, he said, “I can see you.”

The instant he spoke, Sakura knew she’d been discovered. Her hands slapped the floor with renewed urgency as she crawled faster.

Setting down the kettle on the kitchen island, Noah stepped out and scooped her up just before she could make her grand escape. Her little body squirmed in his arms.

“Not so fast,” he teased, tickling her belly.

Sakura’s giggles echoed through the room, filling it with a joyful energy that made all of us smile. Her small hands immediately reached towards his katana again, her fingers curling in the air toward the glimmering handle as she babbled the word: “Kitana, kitana!”

“That’s Papa’s. You’ll have to wait a little longer.”

Noah bounced her in his arms as he carried her back to the living room.

Grandma, who had been pleasantly observing, had a spark in her wrinkled eyes as she laughed.

“She’s going to learn her way with a katana before she learns to walk, isn’t she?”

I couldn’t say no to that, looking at our daughter, whose fascination with her father’s sword was growing by the day. Noah set Sakura on my lap, her tiny hands still making grabby motions toward the weapon in the distance. She was relentless.

“She’s got a strong will, that’s for sure,” Noah said, watching her as she tried to wiggle free from my grasp to make another attempt for the katana. “Just like her Mama,” Noah added, casting me a glance before heading back to the kitchen to retrieve the tray with tea and snacks.

“With a father like you, it’s no wonder she’s drawn to swords,” I teased back.

Noah chuckled and finished preparing the tea, the soft, floral scent of jasmine filling the air as he brought the tray over to the low table in the center of the room. The sliding doors were open, and a breeze swept through the space, carrying with it the scent of the garden and the occasional sound of Trouble chasing chickens outside.

“Levi, come sit with us and Grandma,” I called softly, watching Levi abandon the block tower he was building. He ran over with his usual burst of energy, his brown hair messy and strands hanging loose from his earlier play.

Sakura was already seated beside Noah, nestled against big pillows that propped her up comfortably. Her eyes were wide with curiosity as she watched her Papa take a sip from his tea. Noah handed me my cup. He smiled knowingly as he passed a cup to Grandma, then turned his attention to Sakura.

“You want some?” he asked. Immediately, he dipped his index finger into his cup and offered her a tiny drop.

Sakura leaned forward, her tiny pink lips pursing as she tasted the warm tea from the tip of his finger. Her eyes lit up, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. Of course she loved it—she was my daughter after all.

Noah glanced at me.

“Just like her Mama.”

After a while, with Levi nestled between Sakura and me, enjoying some snacks, I kept an eye on them, waiting for any sign they might be ready for a nap. Despite the day’s activities, however, both twins seemed wide awake. As the adults chatted, I didn’t notice when Levi, responding to Sakura’s insistent whispers, dipped his finger into my tea to offer her a few more drops.

It was Noah who caught him.

With a slight frown, he said, “Levi, stop giving tea to your sister.”

“But she likes it,” Levi replied earnestly.

“You won’t like it when she gets all wired and keeps you up later,” Noah warned gently.

Levi blinked, likely not fully understanding his father’s point, but he obediently wiped his finger on his shirt and muttered a soft, sweet “Papa says no more” to Sakura, who looked at him with hopeful eyes.

A while later, with the twins still wide awake and showing no signs of tiring, Noah decided to take them out to the garden to burn off some energy.

“Come on, you two, let’s tire you up,” he said with a grin, scooping them up. The twins squealed with delight as he hoisted them up high.

Once they were in the garden, he set each of them on one of his shoulders, holding them steady with his hands.

“Papa! ‘s very high!” Levi exclaimed.

“This is called weight training,” Noah told them, pretending to strain under their combined weight. Levi and Sakura giggled, clutching his hair for balance as he wobbled dramatically.

“Hey! Easy on the hair, little minx.”

He pretended Sakura was about to slip off his shoulder, making her squeal, then shifted his balance as if Levi were the one tipping off the other side. Their peals of laughter echoed across the yard. It was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard—made all the more precious because it was Noah who was causing it.

Noah held them firmly, with the practiced ease of a father—and a Samurai, of course— who would never let them fall. Eventually, he set them down, and the two darted off across the grass. A short while later, Levi discovered a fallen wooden branch, smooth and straight—perfect for his purposes. His small fingers gripped it with a sense of destiny, and he swung it around with wide, serious eyes.

“Papa!” he called. Then announced proudly, “I Samurai!”

Sakura, his biggest fan, started clapping her hands as she sat on the grass, hair messy and her face alight with admiration for her brother. Noah chuckled, kneeling down beside Levi, his own eyes twinkling.

“Show me your stance, little warrior.”

Levi straightened up, glancing at his father with fierce concentration, and clumsily attempted to imitate Noah’s stance, one foot forward, knees slightly bent. His little face was full of focus as he held the stick in front of him, eyes narrowed. Noah bit back laughter, unable to hide his delight at the sight of his son’s determined expression.

“You look like a real samurai, Levi,” Noah praised, giving him an approving nod. “But remember,” he added, “a samurai must have patience and strength.”

Levi nodded solemnly, gripping his wooden “sword” with purpose.

“And they look after their baby sisters!”

Noah nodded. “They look after the girls they love,” he corrected.

Sakura crawled over at full speed to join them bouncing on her hands and knees with enthusiasm. Noah, still kneeling, extended his arm to offer her support in case she wanted to try and stand up.

From our seats in the living room, Grandma and I watched the scene unfolding in the garden. The sliding doors were open to the porch, and the breeze carried the sounds of Noah’s laughter and the twins’ gleeful squeals inside. We sipped our tea as we observed the little family scene—my little family.

“Noah is so devoted to the children,” Grandma commented, “and to you. It makes me so happy to see this man so committed to his family.”

“I can only imagine how devoted he’ll be when there’s three of them,” I said, almost absently.

Grandma turned to me, her eyes widening in surprise.

“Three? What do you—?”

I gently placed a hand over my stomach.

“I think there’s a third one on the way,” I whispered.

“Oh, darling!” she exclaimed, immediately wrapping me in her arms. I hugged her back, feeling her love and excitement surround me. As I glanced over her shoulder, I caught sight of Noah looking toward me from the garden, a quizzical expression on his face. I waved him off with a quick shake of my hand, signaling that everything was fine.

“Does he know?” Grandma asked, pulling back and searching my face with a mixture of tenderness and curiosity.

“Not yet,” I replied. “I don’t want him to start worrying about me or the baby too soon. He’d only stress himself out and live in a constant state of panic.”

A soft, delicate smile spread across her face as she nodded in understanding. One last glance down at my stomach, and her eyes showed a new light as she processed the happy news.

“You’ve built such a precious family,” she noted, squeezing my hand. “This is what you deserve.”

I nodded, feeling the truth of her words settle in my heart. It was everything I’d ever dreamed of.

My attention drifted back to the garden, where I spotted Sakura crawling across the grass again, her little body wiggling as she explored every inch of the ground. Levi toddled after her, a tiny, determined protector, keeping an eye on her every move as he held the stick in his hand. When Sakura reached out for a small, spiky stone, Levi waddled over, furrowing his brow in concern.

“No, sis! Don’t touch!” he scolded in his limited but emphatic vocabulary, holding out his hand to stop her.

Despite her brother’s warnings, Sakura only giggled, flashing him a mischievous smile before crawling even faster, forcing Levi to chase after her. His little legs moved quickly, stumbling slightly but with determination as he followed her across the garden. Watching the two of them, Noah leaned back on the grass, a proud smile spreading across his face as he witnessed the bond between our kids.

When Sakura crawled back to her Papa, Noa brushed a stray wisp of hair from her face.

“Why don’t we practice your walking skills a little bit, huh? Enough crawling around,” he said, tapping her tiny nose. “Until you can stand on your own, babygirl, how do you plan on holding a katana?”

Sakura probably only caught the word “katana”. Nonetheless, she raised her arms up to him, and with his help, she planted her feet in front of her. Levi, always eager to be part of his sister’s milestones, scrambled to her side. He grasped her small hand. Noah placed his huge ones around her little body.

“Come, sis,” Levi encouraged. He tugged her hand forward, his eyes never leaving hers as he and Noah helped her up and steadied her. Sakura wobbled, almost losing her balance. She took a shaky step, then another.

Levi coaxed her along with a beaming smile, glowing with pride at his sister’s efforts.

“You’re doing it, sis!” he said, pulling her forward with all the enthusiasm his small frame could muster. Sakura responded with another happy squeal, her trust in her brother absolute as she stumbled forward, gripping his hand tightly.

From the edge of the garden, Trouble lay stretched out under the sunlight, her black eyes tracking every move. She watched Sakura’s attempts with rapt attention, her tail swishing with encouragement as if cheering on our little one.

Sakura took a few more shaky steps, her hand still gripping Levi’s for balance, until she finally lost her footing. But just as she began to teeter, Noah scooped her up into his arms before she could fall. Sakura clung to her Papa, and Trouble, as if sensing the moment, lifted her head and let out a triumphant howl, celebrating our tiny human’s success.

Noah laughed, cradling Sakura close as she snuggled into Noah’s chest, exhausted but utterly thrilled, while Trouble wagged her tail even harder, her proud gaze following. It was as if she understood the victory of Sakura’s steps and was just as invested in every small victory as the rest of us.

As Noah held Sakura, her head rested against his shoulder, her hair now loose—the bun undone, and the hairband lost somewhere in the garden. Her eyelids began to flutter, the day’s activities finally catching up with her. She gave a little sigh, her fingers curling sleepily into his shirt as she drifted off. Noah turned to Levi, extending his free hand.

“Come on, buddy.”

Levi obediently took his father’s hand, and together they headed back inside, with Trouble padding along behind them.

Once we were all back in the living room, Trouble trotted over to me, her keen eyes meeting mine with a knowing glint. She pressed her nose against my stomach, nudging me softly. I stroked her fur and gave her a gentle “Shh,” hoping she’d keep our little secret just a bit longer.

Meanwhile, Noah adjusted his grip on the now-snoozing Sakura, and glanced at Levi, who was yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to your room for a nap,” he murmured, giving Levi’s hand a squeeze. Levi didn’t protest, his tiredness starting to show. “Go give Mama and Grandma a kiss.”

Levi leaned in and placed the softest kiss on my cheek, whispering, “bye, Mama.” Then moved to hug Grandma.

As they made their way to the twins’ shared bedroom, I watched them disappear down the hallway and Trouble settled down beside me, resting her head on my lap. I scratched behind her ears.

After a little while, Noah came back.

“They’re both out like lights.” He settled into his seat with a relaxed sigh, picking up his cup and taking a long sip of his tea. He noticed Trouble, who was still comfortably nestled with her head on my lap. “Hey, big girl,” he said with mock indignation, arching an eyebrow. “Where’s my share of the cuddles?”

As if understanding his request, Trouble lifted her head from my lap and trotted over to Noah, plopping down beside him with a huff. He scratched her behind the ears and ruflled the fur on her neck. She leaned into him, accepting his attention with her usual grace.

The peace didn’t last long, though. Less than an hour into their nap, I noticed Trouble’s ears perk up, her attention shifting to the hallway. She slipped away from us, heading toward the children’s bedroom.

She had sensed them waking up.

Sakura and Levi weren’t the type to cry when they woke; for the past year, they’d developed a habit of waking each other with little noises and soft giggles, almost as if inviting each other to play.

I got up and followed Trouble, who smoothly squeezed through the gap Noah had left in the door.

When I opened it fully a moment later, I found Levi already out of bed, his face alight with excitement as he tried to wrestle with Trouble, charging at her and pushing with all his tiny might. Trouble looked thoroughly amused as she lay there with perfect patience, moving just enough to make him feel like he was putting up a real fight. His laughter rang out as he finally managed to clamber onto her back. In response, Trouble rolled over gently, pinning him beneath her massive paw in a playful but controlled move.

Not wanting to be left out, Sakura, who was obviously also awake, crawled over, her eyes fixated on Trouble’s tail as it swished enticingly from side to side. With a little pout, she reached out, trying to grab it, but Trouble swayed it just out of reach, starting a game of chase. Sakura crawled faster as she tried again and again to capture the elusive tail.

“Catch Trouble!” she called.

Levi, now up on his feet, toddled around the room with all the confidence of a young explorer, and Sakura was quick to follow, her rapid crawling fueled by her intention to keep up with either her big brother of the wolf. Her little hands slapped against the floor as she tried to match their pace, but every so often, she would fall just a bit behind, her face scrunching in frustration.

Noticing this, Trouble ever so heedful, decided to pad over to her and lay down directly in her path, as if offering a solution. Sakura’s eyes lit up, and she eagerly clambered onto Trouble’s back, settling herself with a triumphant smile as she shouted “catch!”. With her tiny hands buried in Trouble’s thick fur, she held on tightly as the wolf rose slowly, careful with each movement and letting her enjoy her “victory”. Then, with Sakura perched securely on her back, Trouble began to walk at a measured pace, following Levi’s toddling path around the room. Sakura squealed with joy, her laughter bright as she held on, her little body bouncing with each step.

I watched them all, my heart full as I leaned against the doorframe.

Come evening, we prepared for the nightly ritual of bath time, one of my favorite moments of the day, while Grandma prepared dinner. I’d insisted she leave it to us, as she was our guest, but she insisted on cooking while we took care of the children. Noah and I filled the tub with warm water, adding just a hint of baby shampoo that filled the air with a soft, sweet fragrance and created a layer of frothy bubbles on the surface. After I undressed Sakura and Noah undressed Levi, we eased them gently into the water, ensuring their little bodies had time to adjust to the warmth.

Sakura, a water enthusiast, started kicking her legs right away. The instant her tiny feet touched the water, she sent splashes flying toward me, Noah, and her little brother, setting off giggles that only grew louder as she saw our crinkled faces.

Once seated in the tub, Levi joined in the fun, slapping the bubbles with his hands and gathering foam to blow into the air—a trick he’d picked up from watching me when they were a bit younger. Noah and I washed them carefully, shampooing their hair, which sometimes turned into a bit of a juggling act as they squirmed and giggled, forcing us to keep a steady grip so they wouldn’t slip beneath the water.

“Close your eyes,” Noah called out when it was time to rinse their hair. They both complied, but Sakura’s face always tensed a little, still a bit wary of the water streaming over her head and face.

Finally clean, smelling fresh and looking irresistibly pink-cheeked, with their skin moisturized and their hair tangle-free, we bundled each of them in thick, fluffy white towels, wrapping them snugly into two little burritos. They looked up at us, eyes half-closed, as if already starting to sink into the cozy warmth, the softness of the towels hugging their tiny bodies.

I stayed behind in the bathroom to clean up as Noah carried our little bundles over to our bed. I gathered the twins’ bath toys, placing them in a basket, then paused just outside the doorway to watch. Noah knelt on the bed, playfully towering over their tiny forms as they lay side-by-side, snug in their towel cocoons. He was using his playful, bedtime voice.

“Who are Papa’s favorite little warriors?”

Sakura and Levi gurgled and giggled under their Papa’s attention. Levi reached out, and Noah leaned closer, letting the tiny fingers brush his cheek, only to “accidentally” shift so Levi’s hand tapped his nose instead. Noah widened his eyes in surprise, prompting a delighted laugh from Levi. With a grin, Noah lifted Levi’s chubby feet, playfully nibbling at his toes before turning his attention to Sakura, who had been watching his antics with wide-eyed fascination.

“What about you?” he asked. “Are you a brave little warrior?”

Sakura stretched an arm toward him, and he took her tiny hand, pressing a kiss on her knuckles. Then, tracing a line down her face, he murmured, “You’re Papa’s fearless princess, that’s what you are,” finishing with a tender boop on her nose.

He unwrapped her towel just enough to blow soft raspberries on her belly, then did the same to Levi, sending both of them into fits of giggles as they tried to curl up as if trying to escape.

“Who’s got the giggles now, huh?” Noah chuckled.

Noticing me in the doorway, he reached out a hand, and I joined him, bringing over the kids’ pajamas from the drawer.

The next morning, Sakura was suprisingly the first to wake, her little voice calling for me. I could tell immediately that she was hungry, so I scooped her up and took her with me as I sat in the rocking chair in the room, where the quiet of the early morning enveloped us like a cozy blanket. As I fed her, the soft light filtering through the window illuminated her delicate features, and I couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and peaceful my daughter looked, with her Papa’s same eyes and hair.

“Slept well, babygirl?”

With her hands around the bottle and her lips glued to the tip, her eyes found mine and she nodded.

Once she was fed and fully awake, I reminded her that Levi was still asleep, so I carried her with me back to the master bedroom, where Noah was still tangled in the sheets, lying on his stomach, shirtless, with one hand tucked beneath a pillow.

“Papa,” Sakura called.

Just hearing her say his name was enough to coax a smile from him, even with his eyes still closed. I let her climb onto the bed, and she crawled right over to him, nudging his tattooed shoulder with a soft insistence.

“Papa!” she repeated, louder this time, her tiny hands pushing against him.

“Yes, babygirl?” Noah mumbled, rolling over slowly to face her.

Sakura babbled something that neither of us quite understood, and we shared a laugh, enchanted by her morning enthusiasm.

“I know, I know,” Noah replied, stretching his arms overhead as he sat up, the sheets slipping away to reveal the entirety of his muscled tattoed torso.

After a few moments of morning cuddles, Noah got dressed and decided to take our daughter out into the garden, where they were greeted by Trouble. They settled on the porch, where Noah cradled our baby girl in his arms, the two of them framed by the glow of the rising sun.

As the first light of day crept over the mountains, Sakura cooed and babbled happily, her little hands pointing at the sky in wonder. Noah murmured softly to her, sharing snippets of thoughts and observations about the world. He pointed out the way the colors changed in the morning light, the birds flitting about, and the way the leaves shimmered with dew.

After the entire family woke up and had finished breakfast, Grandma called out the children into the living room.

“I have some surprises for you, little ones. Come here sit with Grandma.” On the floor in front of her were colorful packages wrapped in bright paper, each adorned with shiny ribbons. “Look what I brought for you!”

Levi dashed over, tugging at his sister’s hand to urge her to crawl along behind him.

Grandma began by handing them each a small package. Levi ripped into his with the fervor of a true little boy, revealing a set of brightly colored building blocks. His eyes widened in awe.

“Look, Mama!” he exclaimed, holding them up proudly.

Sakura, on the other hand, took her time, delicately unwrapping her gift with tiny fingers. When she finally revealed a plush white bunny with extremely long ears, her face lit up with pure joy. She hugged it tightly to her chest, her delight evident as she nestled her head against it.

“Do you like your new bunny, sweetheart?” Grandma asked, her heart swelling with happiness.

Sakura nodded vigorously.

After unwrapping the toys, Grandma reached behind her and brought out two beautifully folded outfits.

“For my little warrior,” she announced, holding up a small, traditional outfit for Levi—a miniature warrior’s attire, complete with delicate, intricate details that mimicked one of his father’s. “And for my little princess,” she continued, revealing an elegant white kimono adorned with tiny embroidered blossoms.

We’d kept both children in modern, comfortable clothes—soft cotton jumpers, leggings, and joggers that allowed them to move freely and easily. But seeing these traditional clothes, made with such care and attention, felt like a small window into the past, connecting them with the roots of their heritage.

Levi darted over to Noah, who was sipping black coffee by the garden, one hand cradling his mug while the other rested on Trouble’s thick fur, who stood at Noah’s waist even on all fours.

“Papa! Can you help me wear this? I’m going to be just like you!” Levi’s eyes sparkled with excitement, the bundle of cloth and miniature armor pieces clutched in his tiny hands.

Noah set his coffee down and motioned Levi closer. He knelt, carefully fastening each part of the outfit, steady hands adjusting every strap and buckle with the same focus he might bring to his own armor. Levi stood stock-still, his chest puffed out proudly. When Noah finally stepped back to take in the sight, Levi looked every inch the little warrior.

Noah chuckled softly, reaching out to smooth our son’s hair.

“Looking good, Levi,” he murmured, feeling a tug of pride at the familiar look in Levi’s eyes. It was like seeing a younger version of himself, bold and ready for anything. “Did you say thank you to Grandma?”

As if realizing his mistake, he turned around and shouted, “Thank you, Grandma!”

Grandma’s smile only grew bigger.

As we admired Levi’s transformation, I noticed Sakura still sat on the floor, a look of frustration and sadness spreading across her face. She was tugging at her sweater, trying to pull it off by herself, her little face scrunched up in concentration—and then she started to cry silently, overwhelmed by her desire to join in but unable to undress on her own.

“Oh,” I muttered as I walked to her and kneeled down. “Baby, it’s okay. We’re going to help you.”

“No need to cry, come on,” Noah interjected, scooping her up and settling her on his lap as he took a seat on the couch. “Arms up, baby.”

She lifted her arms, sniffling a little as he gently pulled off her sweater and guided her tiny arms into the sleeves of her kimono. He adjusted each fold with care, and then tied the delicate sash around her waist. Once she was dressed, Noah lifted her and propped her up on his thighs. She stood there, balanced in his hands, her big eyes taking in the soft white fabric that flowed elegantly around her tiny frame. The kimono’s delicate folds shimmered in the morning light and made her look like a tiny princess straight out of a storybook.

“Look at you. My beautiful babygirl,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Sakura stood still, gazing up at him with a tiny blush blooming on her cheeks, her admiration shining so openly that it made Noah chuckle.

“I think your daughter might be in love with you,” Grandma commented with a smile.

“You have no idea,” I interjected, and all of us laughed.

I walked over to them, smoothing my hand over the soft, white fabric of Sakura’s kimono, adjusting a fold even though Noah had already done it perfectly. She gazed up at me, her big eyes bright with excitement, and I couldn’t help but smile, my heart swelling as I took in her joy.

“You look absolutely beautiful, sweetheart,” I murmured, brushing a stray curl from her forehead. I glanced at Noah, letting a playful glint spark in my eyes. “Daddy did a great job.”

Noah smirked, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes.

“Pretty good with belts and knots, aren’t I?” he murmured, his voice low enough that only I caught the edge of his joke. I shot him a wide-eyed look, barely able to hold back my laugh. Typical Noah, sneaking in a comment like that while Grandma and the kids were right there. Lucky for him, everyone else seemed blissfully unaware.

Then, with that familiar, warm smile, he slid his arm around my waist and tugged me closer. He didn’t even have to say anything for me to feel how much he loved being here with us, with his family.

Sakura watched us, her little face brightening as she glanced between her father and me. “Papa, kiss Mama,” she piped up, clapping her hands together.

Noah chuckled, his gaze meeting mine with a look that held years of shared stories, a million unspoken words. Then he tilted his chin up, I bent down, and he kissed me, a soft press of his lips that was so familiar yet always felt like a quiet thrill. Sakura’s giggles filled the room, the kind of laughter that made everything feel lighter, as if we’d slipped into one of the fairytales she loved so much.

After spending time with Grandma and taking a walk down to the heart of the sanctuary that morning, we met Rika’s family and other neighbors. Lunch was a communal affair in the main hall, where the air was rich with the scent of fresh rice, vegetables, and miso. Levi and Sakura spent the afternoon running about, playing with Rika and Milla’s children, giggling as they chased one another—eighter on two or four legs—, and even cautiously patting and feeding the deer that roamed around.

Trouble stalked nearby, her tail held high and a low, protective growl rumbling every time one of the other animals got too close to Levi and Sakura. She was overprotective, and it was clear she took her self-imposed role as a guardian seriously.

Eventually, we made our way back to the house, the golden afternoon light filtering through the trees. While Noah went outside to feed Trouble, Grandma approached me with a knowing look in her eye. She took my hands in hers, her warmth and wisdom wrapping around me.

“Why don’t you and Noah take some time for yourselves?” she suggested. “I’ll stay here with the children.”

“But you only just got here,” I protested, reluctant to impose. “You don’t need to jump right into babysitting duty, Grandma.”

She gave a small laugh, her eyes crinkling.

“Maybe because I think Noah should know the news,” she said.

I paused, feeling a soft swell of emotion at the thought. Her hand squeezed mine as she looked into my eyes.

“I know he’ll be even more protective and likely won’t let you out of his sight for a moment, but he deserves to be part of this journey and not miss a day. Let him share in the joy and excitement with you.”

I took a deep breath. She was right, of course. Noah deserved to be a part of this new chapter from the very beginning, and I could already picture the joy in his eyes when he found out about the life growing inside of me.

I bit my lip, but eventually nodded. With my heart grateful, I gave Grandma a warm hug.

After a quiet moment, I made my way outside, finding Noah as he leaned against a tree, watching Trouble with a satisfied smile as she finished her meal. He looked up as I approached.

“Why don’t we go out for a bit?” I suggested, doing my best to sound casual.

Noah raised an eyebrow, casting a glance toward the living room where Levi and Sakura were happily playing with Grandma.

“Again? I think both the kids and Grandma might be tired…”

“Just the two of us,” I clarified, cutting him off with a small smile.

He turned back to me, his expression shifting from confusion to understanding, realization dawning in his eyes.

A slow smirk crept across his face.

“Just us?” he murmured, his tone lower.

“Yes,” I replied, extending my hand toward him. He took it without hesitation, his warmth making me feel all the more eager to share this not-so-little secret with him.

Inside, we gathered a picnic basket and filled it with a blanket, fruit, and other snacks. We said goodbye to the children, who didn’t seem too preoccupied with us leaving thanks to Grandma’s presence. As we made our way to the door, Trouble followed us, glancing over her own back every two seconds, clearly undecided between following us or staying back with Levi and Sakura.

“No worries, Trouble. You’re in charge here,” Noah told her. She hesitated, giving us one last look, before trotting back inside and settling herself protectively beside the children, her tail curling around Sakura and tickling her in the face, making her scrunch her nose and cover her face with her arms.

Noah and I left the house with a loving laugh.

The weather was perfectly warm and clear as we set off up the path toward a hidden pond not too far, eager to savor the last few hours of sunlight. It was a secluded little haven we had discovered just before I got pregnant with the twins—a place Noah and I had made our own, keeping it a secret even from the kids for now. As much as we loved being parents, we cherished our time alone, too. Though Noah hadn’t said it outright, I could tell from the glint in his eyes how much he appreciated Grandma’s gesture in giving us this moment to ourselves.

We spread out the blanket on the sand surrounding the pond, the warmth of the late afternoon settling over us as we unpacked apples, peaches, berries, and pastries from the basket. Noah settled down and I knelt beside him, reaching eagerly for one of the chocolate pastries. But before I could take a bite, he gestured for me to sit between his legs. I moved over and leaned back into his arms, savoring the comfort of his warmth and the easy rhythm of his breath against my neck.

With his arms wrapped around me, he held a box of berries in front of us and began feeding both of us, occasionally rubbing a blueberry over my lips to tease me, pulling it back with before I could catch it. When I gave his thigh a playful pinch, he yelped, and I turned my head to meet his gaze with a glare that said, “You deserved that.”

After a while, with our appetites satisfied, I relaxed against him, my head resting on his shoulder and his chin gently perched on mine. His cheek brushed against me, warm and slightly rough—just the way I liked it. His arms held me close, my hands resting atop his as we took in the view together: the slow sway of the water, the vibrant reflections of the sun across the pond, the birds soaring overhead, and the flowers tilting upward as if reaching for the fading sun.

I felt the soft ghost of Noah’s lips graze the crook of my neck, where my skin was exposed. Instinctively I tilted my head to give him more access.

“I love the way you smell,” he murmured, his voice a low vibration against my skin.

“What do I smell like?”

“Hmm. Lavender and… baby powder.”

I snorted, laughing softly.

“So do you,” I teased, leaning in at an odd angle to nuzzle my nose against his cheek. He pulled a face.

“Please don’t tell me that,” he groaned. “A Samurai smelling like baby powder? Not exactly intimidating.”

“It makes you a responsible, caring dad.” My voice softened as I looked up at him, our faces so close I could see the flecks of darker brown in his eyes. “You’re the best father to our children I could’ve ever asked for.”

“Because you and our kids deserve only the best,” he replied, his hand sneaking up to touch my chin with a finger. He tiped it up. Then his palm cupped my cheek and he brought our lips together.

We kissed under the trees, surrounded by the earthy scent of the forest, birdsong, and the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Gradually, my body melted beneath his touch, and he shifted until I was lying back on the blanket, his mouth never leaving mine.

Since the moment I got pregnant, Noah’s affection and care had grown, and he had never stopped showing how much he loved me and how beautiful I was in his eyes. He was a grown man now; gone was the teenage boy I’d watched training tirelessly on my father’s grounds. But his heart remained unchanged, and every now and then, he’d still wear that peaceful expression while he slept—the look of that young boy I’d first fallen in love with. Now, Noah was my husband, my soulmate, but he would always also be the boy that stole my heart.

Lying on the blanket, his hands explored my body, slipping beneath the fabric of my kimono to find my skin while my fingers trailed through his hair, drawing soft sounds from his lips that stirred a warmth deep within me. I hooked a leg around him, arching to meet him, offering myself without hesitation. Noah murmured something against my mouth, and as I ran a hand down his back to slip beneath his shirt and touch his muscles, his grip on my waist tightened.

“Behave,” he ordered, his voice rough. His eyes remained closed as he untied the laces of my kimono, spreading the fabric to either side and exposing my skin to the open air, a chill raising goosebumps.

“Or what?” I teased, nipping at his lower lip.

When he opened his eyes, they were dark and narrowed, though a playful glint lingered in them.

“Or I’ll find a good use for this belt,” he replied.

“Oh? And then…?”

His brow lifted, slightly taken aback by my boldness.

“Then I’ll place these berries on every spot that makes you shiver,” he murmured, his fingers tracing down the valley between my breasts and along my sides, tickling lightly. My giggles bubbled up, and he laughed with me, though his intent was clear. “And I’ll eat every one of them off you before letting my tongue wander between your legs.”

Heat pooled low in my belly, but I maintained a calm facade.

“And you’re going to act so indecently out here in the open?” I teased, tilting my head toward a nearby deer quietly grazing in the shade.

Noah followed my gaze.

“They’ve witnessed far filthier things than that, done by you,” he teased right back.

I couldn’t suppress a wide smile before his mouth descended on mine. In a matter of minutes, my underwear was gone, and Noah was making good on his promise with focused, deliberate devotion. I lay exposed on the blanket, berries scattered across my stomach as his mouth traced every inch of me, savoring each berry he plucked from my skin. He licked away the juice that dripped from them, glancing up at me every so often.

Eventually, he shed his clothes as well. I watched him with a blissful smile, sated from my first climax, his skilled mouth having left gentle love bites along the inside of my thighs as the breeze carried away my gasps. When he finally entered me, I felt complete, holding tight to his shoulders as he moved within me, my legs locked around him and my eyes fixed on his. I lifted my head to meet him in a kiss, tasting the faint tartness of raspberries lingering on his tongue.

“Sometimes,” he said, his voice strained as he withdrew slowly, inch by inch, making me feel every exquisite part of him, “I still can’t believe you’re mine.”

I tangled my fingers in his hair and pulled him back down to me.

“I’ll be yours,” I whispered hoarsely against his lips, my nose brushing his, “until the end of days, Noah.”

Our eyes locked, and as we moved together, he would reach up every so often to tuck stray strands of hair behind my ear or simply to cup my cheek with quiet affection. At one point, his hand wandered to the box of berries beside us. He held a strawberry to my lips, feeding it to me as he held still within me, his body warm and solid against mine.

“Sweet?” he asked hoarsely.

I nodded, my cheeks flushed, overwhelmed as always by the press of his heavy body and his cock filling me completely.

“That’s exactly how you taste,” he murmured, punctuating the words with a deep, slow thrust that left me gasping. “No,” he corrected himself, withdrawing slightly, his muscles flexing under my hands as I clung to his biceps. “You taste even sweeter.” He thrust again, harder this time, drawing a cry from my lips. “That’s it,” he coaxed. “Let the Gods hear you. Let them know how good I make you feel.”

“Please, Noah,” I pleaded. “I’m so close.”

He knew, and he didn’t hold back, guiding me to the edge and staying with me as I fell, a soft whimper escaping my lips as his name echoed through the trees. He followed soon after, his released spreading through me, our bodies trembling together as we clung to each other, complete in the quiet of the forest.

Not long after, Noah led me to the water. We cleaned ourselves off, then I wrapped myself around him like a koala. He spun us in circles, making me laugh until my sides ached.

When we emerged, my hair dry because I’d kept it tied back with a kanzashi stick, we dried off and slipped back into our underwear. Feeling utterly content, I lay down on the blanket, my hair spilling around me as soon as Noah pulled at the stick with a cheeky smile. He settled beside me on his stomach. He’d collected a small bundle of flowers—jasmine, sakura blossoms, and a few other delicate wildflowers. One by one, he began placing them over my belly, just as he had done earlier with the berries. When my skin was adorned with petals, he tucked the last sakura blooms in my hair.

The sight of those particular flowers stirred memories. They were a tender reminder not only of our daughter now, but of all those years ago when Noah would visit me at my grandmother’s village home at night, stealing moments with me under the moonlight and the sheets. He would leave in the early mornings, just before sunrise and before I would wake up. When I did, he was gone, but he always used to leave a bunch of sakura flowers on the pillow as a reminder of his love.

Now, the flowers were a reminder of our past and everything we had endured—of the strenght we had found in each other and how much we had accomplished, of the man and the woman we had become.

“I have to tell you something,” I murmured, feeling the nervous tickling settling in my lower pit.

He paused, holding a jasmine in his fingers, his eyes bright with curiosity. Without another word, I guided his hand to rest on my flower-covered belly. I watched as his brows furrowed, and then his eyes widening as he began to piece it together. The jasmine slipped from his fingers, settling delicately at my navel.

A quiet breath hitched in his throat as he took in the meaning of my gesture. His eyes filled with wonder, his lips parting slightly as he looked down at my belly, his hand pressing carefully—almost reverently— over me, protective and awestruck.

His question—“Are we having another baby?”—uttered so softly and carefully, as if he believed saying it too loud might shatter the truth of it, melted me. I nodded, my smile bright and cheeks warm, the blush deepening at the comfort of his strong hand resting over our child—our third.

I felt weightless, floating in a dreamlike state as I looked into the warmth of Noah’s brown eyes, seeing the light of love and devotion that always glowed there. Not a day went by that he didn’t express how lucky he felt to have found me and to have fought for me—to had me fight for him—, how proud and grateful he was that I’d given him not only my heart but a family. I had given him happiness, the kind he’d been raised to believe he’d never deserve.

After a beat, when the news settled in, his lips found their way to my flower-covered stomach, pressing a tender kiss right where our little one was already learning the love of their Papa.

Back at home, our girl Sakura and our boy Levi played together, blissfully unaware that soon they’d have someone new to protect, to dote on, to share their world with. Just imagining their excitement and fierce protectiveness over their new sibling made me laugh, my eyes misting. Noah must have been thinking the same. He pressed his cheek against my bare skin. When his eyelashes fluttered, they sent a ripple of lovely goosebumps across my body.

My hand slipped into his hair, fingers threading softly as we lay there together, wrapped in the quietness of our deserved joy. I had a husband, an adopted wolf, a daughter, a son—and another baby on the way, created from the endless love I shared with Noah—my soldier, my warrior.

My Samurai.

✨ Author's note:

*cries* *cries more* *cries some more*

*continues crying*

Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading this story, for all your support, for encouraging me to keep going after I posted the first part (which was supposed to be a one shot). Thank your for sharing your thoughts, for commenting, for reblogging, for messaging me about this fic and sending my brain on overdrive with your brainrots. Writing this story has been a dream, firstly because I always wanted to read a romance story with a Samurai and Noah made the perfect muse for it, second because it gave me an excuse to do a lot of research on Japan and its culture and history. This is in no way an accurate historical fic, but there's so much I've read online and s much I've learnt. I wish I could've made this fic into something better and make it more accurate—perhaps longer, too. But I'm currently very happy with what we've created together, yes, together, because half of this wouldn't exist without all of you that have showered me and my works with love and care. I'm forever thankful and glad that writing and sharing these so many words have brought me close to so many of you wonderful creatures.

I hope you know that, while this is the end of the fic, I have some exciting plans for the future involving samurai!noah. I don't want to say more for the time being, but don't say goodbye to him just yet.

I hope you loved reading this as much as I loved sharing it with you and reading your comments and reactions.

Thank you from the bottom of my heart. 🥹

V. 💕

*proceeds to sob*

Taglist:

If I forgot someone, I'm so sorry! I love you! There's just so much going on in my head!

@girlfromrussia-universe | @kankuurohs | @somebodyels3 | @missduffsblog | @respectfulrebel

@badomensls | @shilohrosechicken | @moreyoulove-moreyouknow @concreteangel92 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#noah sebastian #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x reader #samurai!noah #the unmaking of a warrior #bad omens #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic

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romancecroc · 2 days ago

Text

Lucanis Romance (Pt. 2)

This is an alternative take on finishing his companion quest (confronting Illario after saving Catharina). In this version, the whole "I made paella and your favorite" drink did not happen.

Things have felt different between them. Especially after Spite somehow dragged Rook into Lucanis’s subconscious and helped them align on a goal.

Nothing had really happened before that. Just the occasional lingering glances. Hands brushing against each when nobody could see. Overprotectiveness during battles.

But with all that was going on, it was almost impossible to find quiet moments. To reflect. Or to talk.

And with all her confidence, Rook didn’t dare bring the topic up again. Nor make a move.

But she felt closer to him. Especially after witnessing all his inner troubles, his regrets.

But was that enough? How would you name this? Having feelings for someone, feeling close to them and yet… nothing happening?

What exactly did I want to happen?

The thought caught Rook off guard.

Guilt was starting to build up. They never said they were in a relationship after all. Lucanis didn’t owe her anything.

But at the same time… there was a sense of frustration?

“Rook! Are you listening?” Teia said, waving her hands.

“Ah.” Rook responded, finally snapping out of it.

She was in Trevisio. They were getting ready to save Catharina and set Illario straight.

Teia and Viago were preparing, but Lucanis was nowhere to be seen.

Apparently he would join in later.

“Don’t worry, Lucanis knows the plan. He’ll join you at the mansion. Are you ready to go?” Teia asked again, patting Rook’s shoulder.

“Yes, sorry. We will get Catharina out of the mansion and then we’ll confront Ilario at the gathering.” Rook said, mostly to summarize it for herself.

“What are you going to do with Ilario when all of this is over?”

Teia and Viago chuckled, grabbing their daggers and facing the exit.

“I’m sure our first talon will know what to do.”

And with that, they both vanished.

—

It didn’t take long to sneak through the mansion. The team had initially agreed to only send out Rook and Lucanis - the less attention they attract the better.

But where was he?

Rook noticed one of the hallways having more guards than the others. With a dagger in hand and magic in another, she swiftly took care of them within seconds.

Until she felt a presence behind her.

Instinctively, she elbowed them in the stomach, using the opportunity to turn around and push them against the floor. Her mouth dropped when she was finally hovered above him, her knees digging into his arms, locking him in position.

“Not a bad move, Rook.” Lucanis said, coughing between his words.

“Are you insane? I could have killed you!” Rock angrily whispered, immediately putting her dagger away.

“Please, Rook. I let you tackle me. Why miss out on an opportunity to get overpowered by a beautiful woman? ” he answered, a chuckle between the coughs.

It should have made her happy. The small flirts between them.

But instead, it just reminded her about her own frustrations. The impatient feeling, the guilt.

Without responding, she got up and offered him a hand. Pulling him up.

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, concerned. He had expected a matching response.

“We should focus on the mission.” Rook responded, perhaps a little colder than she intended.

“Where do you think your grandmother is? I already checked the east wing, but no luck so far.”

It felt like he was catching on, but the mission’s urgency kept him from investigating further. Instead he started leading the way, casually sharing childhood memories whenever he saw something familiar.

He hasn’t been home for so long - and yet she couldn’t bring herself to fully enjoy his stories. Once Catharina had been saved and Ilario confronted, Rook would return to the Lighthouse and spend some time alone in her room. Clear her head.

That sounded like a good plan at least.

“She must be here.” Lucanis said, stopping in front of a door not too far from his childhood room.

Rook motioned to get ready, just in case.

Once the door opened, a cane started swinging around aggressively - until Lucanis grabbed it.

“My grandson!” Catharina gasped in disbelief.

Rook stepped away for a bit, not wishing to interrupt their reunion.

“You are mad as us. Why?!” Rook suddenly heard in her head.

Spite??

“Answer! It is…. distracting him!” Spite responded telepathically.

Rook wasn’t sure how Spite was talking to her. Based on how Lucanis was acting, he didn’t seem to be aware of it either.

I’m not mad. I’m just trying to focus.

“Hurt. Longing. Is it loneliness? No. It smells like… disappointment!” Spite continued on.

The last thing Rook wanted was a conversation about her feelings. With Spite. She imagined a mental block around her head - it must have worked because the last thing she heard was a disapproving growl from Spite. And then it was quiet again.

“Thank you, Rook! For returning my grandson.” Catharina said gratefully, looking over to Rook.

“He did half of the work. We should really bring you somewhere safe.” Rook quickly responded, rejoining them.

“Nonsense. Now go and stop Ilario, I won’t be far behind.” Catharina responded, waving her cane around again.

The expression Lucanis made, said enough - there was no way to convince Catharina to change her mind..

—

“You must feel relieved having your grandmother back. Any plans for Ilario?” Rook asked, as they were approaching the gathering.

“I don’t know. But one way or another, he needs to pay.” Lucanis said, approaching the giant door.

One could hear Ilarios' speech from the outside. Monologues about how he was grieving Catharina’s death. How Lucanis was a shame to the family and the crows due to becoming an abomination.

And that he was taking the title of the first talon for himself.

“Whatever happens, I’m with you.” Rook said, preparing herself for battle.

“I know. Let’s finish this.”

And with that, the door was kicked open.

Everything happened so fast.

Ilario didn’t hesitate to attack Lucanis on sight, backed by venatori.

The crows, unsure who to believe, were fumbling around.

But like many other fights, this one was about to end quite fast.

“They will never accept you. You’re an abomination!” Ilarios screamed at Lucanis, almost like a child who wasn’t picked for a group activity. Most of his venatory allies had fallen by now.

“Are you sure you’re not stuck with a demon yourself, Ilario? Even Spite sounds saner than you do right now.” Rook said loudly, currently finishing off remaining venetario on the opposite side of the hall.

Embarrassment was plastered on Ilarios face. The sheer audacity of being compared to a demon. And despite having little backup left, he used whatever remaining blood magic he had to teleport himself past the crows.

“You will pay for this insult!” Illario yelled, appearing in front of Rook with a dagger in hand. Ready to stab her in the chest.

Growing up with the shadow dragons taught her well - especially on how to deal with crazy individuals that were about to stab you. There were different ways to make them stop, even for a few seconds. They just need to believe they won.

So Rook didn’t defend herself. Didn’t use any magic spells.

Instead she positioned herself in a way, so that the dagger would end up between her armpits. Her clothes were already torn at a few places, covered in blood. It would be hard to tell whether she was really hit or not. And a delusional blood mage wouldn’t know the difference either.

To dramatize the moment, Rook let out a terrible cry that melted together with Ilario’s victory laugh.

And multiple people shouting in the background?

Rook couldn’t focus too much on it, as she was busy taking a few steps back. Holding the dagger close, while she fell on her knees. And then to her sides, closing her eyes.

“Let this be a lesson for anybody who insults Ilario-”

The sound of something smashing against the wall echoed across the hall. Followed by a demonic snarl.

“They. touched. Rook! They die!”

That must be Spite.

Oh…

Rook realized that she never discussed her cinematic move with the others. Neve was used to it. She had witnessed it too many times during their missions.

She hated it. But she couldn’t deny how it made enemies feel overconfident. Prone to making mistakes. Better to catch off guard.

But not something to do with unaware participants.

When Rook carefully opened her eyes, another body flew against a wall. Ilario was still standing next to her, looking in another direction. His entire body tensed up in shock. Apparently Lucanis/Spite had been brutally throwing any Venatory standing in their way against the stone walls.

“Cousin, you need to calm down. They are already dead!” Teia yelled at Lucanis, but Viago held her back.

The final stand was Lucanis/Spite finally reaching Ilario, grabbing him by the throat and hurling him across the hall. The impact was strong enough to make Ilario break a few pieces of furniture in the process.

“Not. Enough. He needs to… suffer!” Lucanis and Spite shouted, as if they’d merged.

He quickly kneeled next to Rook and despite his pupils not being visible, his narrowed eyebrows showed enough concern.

“I’m fine.” Rook whispered, already feeling bad for the entire thing.

“No! He hurt you. He hurt us!” Lucanis/Spite responded back, hissing.

He was going to kill them all. If he hadn’t done so already.

“I think you already punished them well enough. Here, look.” Rook said, grabbing the dagger and pulling it out.

“See? No blood. Your cousin just has a terrible aim. He thought he won and that made him arrogant, distancing himself from his allies.” Rook explained, though she wasn’t sure how much lucanis/spite caught in their frenzied state.

“No… blood.” Lucanis/Spite whispered back.

During all this, Viago and Teia used the moment to tie Ilario down. All the other venatori were dead due to… impactful wall slammings.

“You’re disgraceful, all of you. It’s not enough he’s an abomination, but he also kneels?! How the crows have fallen!” Ilario continued to shout, but his defeat was imminent.

Rook slowly lifted herself off the ground, kneeling next to him.

“I’m sorry. I should have told you about this little… stunt I use from time to time. Neve hates it too. I won’t do it again and-”

Lucanis pulled Rook against him, wrapped his arms around her as the purple glow in his eyes started fading away. Burying his face against her neck.

“Never again.” he growled.

Rook squeezed his arm as a confirmation. The embrace ended with him taking her hand and raising Rook back to her feet with him.

All the yelling subsided when Catharina finally entered the halls. Even Ilario finally closed his mouth.

Rook didn’t dare speak. As the situation calmed down, Teia and Viago complimented her on the dramatic stunt. Thanked her for all the help she’s given.

Rook politely nodded. She could feel Lucanis staring at her. Avoiding any instances of aggravating him further would be wise.

That, until Catharina announced him as the first talon. At this point, he was swarmed by crows. People who wanted to start building connections. Others who just wanted to share a celebratory drink.

Getting through the crowd would be impossible.

“I’m going home. Could you tell Lucanis when you catch him? I think I have worried him enough for one day.” Rook said to Viago.

He nodded and then sheepishly smiled at Rook.

“What? What is it?” Rook asked, confused.

“Take care of my cousin, Rook. Enjoy your night.” he responded, slapping her shoulder in a friendly manner.

Rook shrugged and started heading towards the Eluvian. She looked back once more and managed to make eye contact with Lucanis. With hand motions, she quickly pointed towards the Eluvian and then waved goodbye. Before he could respond, Lucanis was swarmed by another wave of crows.

—

When Rook made it to her room, she wanted to throw herself onto the bed. What a day it was.

But these clothes had to go.

She quickly slipped out of the blood soaked fabric that was already torn in a few places. Doesn’t look like it can be repaired.

She left it on the floor and moved to the baths. It was so late at night, she doubted anybody was going to notice.

After a good cleanup, a few bruises became visible. Nothing fatal. But some were going to stick around for a while. Especially the deep purple ones.

Too lazy to dress up, Rook grabbed a robe and headed back to her bedroom. But she was hungry. There was no time to eat during the ordeal. Maybe the kitchen had something? Even just a snack.

She quietly snuck her way into the kitchen. Perhaps she could gather a few cookies and eat them in bed! Nobody would notice. It would be her little secret. It was also doubtful that Lucanis would already be back from his celebration.

“Rook.”

She froze. Her hand was so close to grabbing a cookie.

“Oh! You’re back already?” she responded, turning around. Caught in the act.

Lucanis was sitting on the couch. A cup in his hand, presumingly coffee.

“Yes.” he responded.

“I was actually going to come visit you in your room. After I had finished my drink.” he added.

“Visit me so late at night? Whatever for?” Rook responded as a joke.

But he didn’t acknowledge it. Instead Lucanis took another sip of his coffee.

“You’re wearing a robe.”

Suddenly Rook started feeling very shy.

“Ah, yes. I was covered in blood and wanted to check for bruises. Nothing bad, luckily.”

There was tension. And she wasn’t sure in which direction it was going to go.

The sound of her heartbeat made it difficult to focus.

“I… should go. Get out of this bathrobe.” she added and slowly took a step back.

“A good idea.” he said, taking the last sip. And then placing the cup back on the table.

“You can then show me the bruises.”

It took a moment for her to register what he said.

That, until he stood up and started walking towards her. Rook took another step backwards, only to find herself clashing against the kitchen table behind her.

It was too late now. Any means of escape were blocked. Lucanis stood in front of her, resting his hands on both sides - pinning Rock against the table.

“I thought you were dead.” he finally said.

Lucanis didn’t shy away from eye contact. Rook looked down instead, ashamed. At least until he gently lifted her chin.

“I was going to kill them all.”

His hand slowly moved to her cheek, caressing it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you.” she whispered back.

“You didn’t think I would react?” Help me understand, Rook.”

“No! It’s just… I didn’t think you would react like that. I didn’t expect it. I wasn’t sure where I stood with you, so I decided to focus on the mission and do my thing.”

“And has today cleared your doubts?” he asked, his thumb brushing against her lips.

She didn’t respond. And somehow she already felt breathless.

“Mierda.”

His lips clashed against hers. It didn’t take long for Rook’s to wrap her arms around his neck. Her hands grabbing onto him. Lucanis lifting Rook and placing her on the kitchen table, keeping her close.

It felt needy. Urgent. Especially when his tongue was starting to dance with hers, moaning into her mouth.

He grabbed onto her waist, pressing himself against her. From all the movement, Rook’s bathrobe was starting to slip and any exposed shoulders were bitten, licked or kissed.

What they didn’t realize was all the noise. Every moment caused a plate to fall. Cutlery clashing against other metallic objects.

They finally froze when somebody yelled “What is going on down there?!”

After that, silence. Followed by quiet chuckles between them.

“I know it’s not honorable, but we could pin it on Manfred.” Rook suggested, fixing her robe.

“Hmm… No, I’ll tell them the truth.” Lucanis smirked, kissing Rook on the forehead and giving her space again.

“And what is that? Sorry, I was fooling around in the kitchen?” Rook asked.

“Fooling around is a temporary notion. I intend to keep you for a long time.”

Lucanis smirked again, witnessing Rook blushing.

“Now go rest. I’m still planning on inspecting your bruises sometime soon.”

Before Rook could respond, Lucanis had returned to his room.

Falling asleep would be difficult after such a promise.

#lucanis #lucanis x rook #da4 lucanis #dragon age lucanis #lucanis dellamorte #lucanis romance #dragon age the veilguard #dragon age rook

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outrunningthedark · 19 hours ago

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i just keep coming back to how tim and abc and whoever else could have ended bucktommy by 7x10 and instead they were like "....but if we bring them back we'll get more attention out of it!" (good or bad. doesn't matter. they stayed silent on fandom behavior AGAIN for a reason.) the breakup taking place in ONE episode isn't about bucktommy "never being endgame". endgame isn't a realistic outcome. let that word go. but it DID show us that there was never a real plan to do ANYTHING with bucktommy until it was time to have both guys go their separate ways. literally could have avoided this mess by having buck drop a comment about being attracted to dudes and then we just wait for the next gf to show up lol

#tina speaks #buck x tommy

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derww · 17 hours ago

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DAY 28: POSESSION

CW: Death, violence, religious themes

He wakes up and feels a knife by his throat.

Firstly he panics, but then sees the person holding it and it's Mapicc – in Spoke's body, but it's still Mapicc. After that, he calms down instantly.

– Pina colada, - he says and the weight on his neck disappears. Mapicc nods and pulls a knife away.

– Welcome back, Zam.

It cannot be said that everything is fine with Mapicc himself too: he has never been able to get used to the inability to see clearly beyond his nose, the desire of this pathetic body to complete deformation and the continuing flow of the inaccessible but too great power of God in the blood. His center of gravity had been knocked down, and Spoke's twin blades, instead of the falcata destroyed in the explosion, were too light for the comfort and lingering blows. Zam gives him his saber, taken from the corpse, but even it lies wrong in insufficiently material fingers.

It's a coinflip every time – who will wake up, who is responsible. Zam was stronger, more tenacious, but Spep was also breaking through from time to time. They were afraid that one day it would be Minute who would wake up. It never happened but they couldn't afford to let their attention wane. Their worst enemy in the middle of their base is a death sentence.

Sleepwalking, Zam was unstable in his activity and could pass out half a step away. But he refused to give up – he wrestled control for himself, adapted to the sword from Minute's corpse, and moved step by step.

Jumper was standing against them. And two immortal gods with their wings torn off. Void and chunkban were the only ways to solve the problem, and they burned too many Ashes bookbans to deal with them themselves. At least while they have another option.

Mapicc had to learn to identify each of them by vague figures, Zam had to study how to faint safely, and Ro had to withstand the loads and fight over and over and over again. Only Clown looks as always, but even his hands are gradually starting to tremble.

Jumper is chosen by the gods, and they feed her with divine apples and crown her with a laurel wreath, and black and purple and red ribbons are woven into her cropped hair. She has no shortage of armor, she always has the exp bottles and golden apples, she almost creates potions out of thin air and never removes bright pink elytras. But she is still mortal. Unlike Ash and Squiddo, Jumper is still mortal.

Zam refuses to sleep. As long as the body belongs to him, he uses it, no matter how exhausted it is. Spep's body is not his own, it is weaker and more vulnerable, it is not hardened in endless battles and days of grinding, and one day Zam exhausts it so much that Spep who wakes up in his own body next cannot even move a limb.

They manage to push Squiddo into the void, but before that, she point-by-point blows up Mapicc on the spot. This time it's Zam who has to grieve for his dead partner, but he just doesn't have time for it. He and Ro have to climb out of another chunkban, and he is knocked out almost immediately after. The next time he wakes up, it's Clown who's holding him and asking for the password. Zam thinks wearily that he would like to cry.

Instead of two gods, there is only one now – and Jumper, she is still here, angel wings and one more ribbon in her hair – and Ash is noticeably gloomy, carrying a bible of saving the world under his arm. In such a man, with pointed facial features and dark eyes, black lightning burns from the Bhaal sunk deep into the skin are especially noticeable.

This time, Ash throws an inventory ban at Clown, and Clown doesn't even have time to say anything. While Ro cuts Jumper off, Zam writes a first book for the bookban with unnaturally icy fingers and then breaks the shulker on the build limit right above Ash. When he finally gets down and reunites with Ro, he can barely stand on his feet, and Ro, taking on some of the weight, brings him back to their base. Home. Zam's pupils roll up halfway through, but he finally falls asleep only inside the base. Ro leaves him on the bed, making sure he doesn't break his neck or swallow his own tongue, and only then allows himself to take a break.

This is... Exhausting. It wasn't the first time Ro had been involved in a war, but never before had it demanded to give it his all. This war had been going on for a month, and every new day was full of deadly dangers and demanded to give everything for the sake of a ghostly chance to achieve something.

But they almost did it. Jumper was left completely alone. Neither Squiddo nor Ash will be able to help her, and the world border is so small that they can always find her. And Branzy still hasn't revealed himself as their ally...

Just a little more, and he can finally get it over with. Kill Jumper. Destroy the world. Retire. See Mapicc again. He nods to himself. Take a rest, and then end the world, reminds Ro to himself, and then passes out.

Zam wakes up before Ro does. He moves with both mechanical and slightly awkward movements. For some reason, there is no pupil in his whitened iris.

#cw death #cw violence #cw religious themes #princezam #roshambogames #mapicc #d.fics #lifestealtober2024 #fanfiction #only 2 more to go

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 23 hours ago

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CW: Heavy topics: Marriage, Loss

Sometimes at night I remember what it was like.

To be held in a way that meant that I was forever.

To sink into a warmth that could hum between my ribs,

that could keep my lungs from freezing amongst the cold black between the stars.

Those memories used to mean something.

They used to be my solace, my peace.

But now…

Now they burn when I summon them.

The heat is sharp…no longer soothing

Instead of cradling me in softness,

they stick to my ribs,

dripping napalm.

I tried to forgive.

I tried to heal.

But even as the scars set, the flames wouldnt stop.

They came seeping forward, quietly, for years.

Infecting me with apathy, with anger, with resentment.

So I focused the healing on my own pain, and my own growth.

I forgave myself for the guilt I felt for so long in the name of love, in the name of company.

I held the endless children and adult ghosts of myself that spent decades feeling worthless, and I told them beautiful tales of how far we’d come.

And we wept.

And we laughed.

And we marveled in our own perseverance,

until all that was left of the flames were glowing embers.

I embraced the tangled wiring of my brain and began to relearn all the things I’d thought were true.

I forgave.

All this, while the world still spun on around me. While my son still needed care, while my job still needed my attention. While I tried to be an entrepreneur, and work on healing the broken bonds with my family. While the world struggled with hate, and bigotry, and misunderstandings, with a pandemic.

While I lost friends to the endless void, having been unable to take this life anymore.

While I nourished the seedlings of love in friends as I’d nourished my own. While they loved and supported me when they could with theirs.

While my furry baby struggled and finally had to be let go, with a piece of my heart that sits on my dresser in an urn.

But you stayed the same.

You let the angry child in you take hold, and blame me for the trauma your parents caused (as all parents do, one way or another, even in love).

But I forgave.

You refused to stop lighting new fires, even when I calmly begged. Even when the calm in my heart wavered.

But I still forgave.

You turned your flames to yourself and told me it was my fault.

I tried to help, and further still, I forgave.

But you left me broken, time and time again,

and when it finally became apparent you would never change,

I forgave myself instead.

I put up a wall between us.

I spent time with friends and family, and I nourished the scarred earth inside my chest.

You burned and lit our home in a flame of constant irritation and blame.

But I still forgave myself.

You apologized, and I tried to forgive, but then you repeated everything. Over and over, hundreds of times.

And I forgave you as much as I could and I forgave myself more.

But as I healed, the wall grew infinite.

The constant never knowing what would strike lightning in your dry fields, added bricks in all directions.

And they got so tall that even warmth, and comfort, and passion, and love could not sneak through.

Because I found, it was not love.

It was convenience.

And now,

I have surrounded myself with people I’ve never met in person, and yet they nourish the fields on the other side of the wall. They bring me hope, and their successes bring me joy.

And when they struggle, my branches embrace them, and when I struggle they nourish my growth. And we all share in our healing.

And there you sit on the other side of the wall.

Throwing fireballs, and weeping.

And I wish that I could help,

I wish for the best for you.

But you will not let me help,

And you will not help yourself.

And now when you have no other outlet than to fill my forests dark with smoke—

I have been forced to finally make up my mind.

On the evening of our 7th wedding anniversary, 14 years together, I let loose the floodgates.

Because convenience is no longer a blessing,

It is a hindrance…

And I do not deserve to burn, or be blinded by smoke anymore.

Our son doesn’t deserve a grieving or exhausted mother.

It’s far past time to take the leap and make the wall permanent.

Someone dear to me told me that I deserve better, and those are the words that nestle between my ribs and hum close to my heart.

Because I do.

We all do.

#personal #might delete #just needed to put it to words

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guiltycorp · 2 days ago

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Great additions, thank you. That is the core of my issues with the route probably, the predetermination... And instead of subverting or playing with it the game just goes 'yep so anything you do is in line with what you must do, you will succeed in fulfilling your destiny either way, good job man' like alright. Does he really care about anything except for his mission? Unclear.

What DO you hold dear my dude... The only thing I disagree with is that the Haruspex feels obliged to hold an inferior position in comparison to the Bachelor - I don't think he does? They definitely have a transactional relationship and the Haruspex keeps responding to the Bachelor's letters by turning up - but only while they have a common goal in creating the panacea (this is why I especially liked an early side quest where Grief is menacing Notkin's bunch and asks Artemy to bring him the Bachelor... and the latter acquiesces for the sake of the children, not to gain something from it... just felt nice, wish we had more of that). Then Daniil has to be like 'maybe the tower is your udurgh!' to keep Artemy coming back to help him out in a mutual exchange bc by then Artemy started going to Aglaya and Oyun instead... Yeah still looking for other people to tell him what to do, but in a vaguely exploitative way. It's difficult to tell who was the first one between them to assume that each favor needed to be beneficial to them both or returned in another way but I suppose it fits the nature of the Town, always trading things back and forth. ...I did love that the Bachelor gets really mad if you don't tell him about your Abattoir adventures at one point pff.

'Whatever,' As for the address, Daniil is a doctor and a bachelor, so that's what Artemy keeps calling him, only alternating the language he's doing it in. Some manner of oynon, oynon Dankovsky, the Bachelor. There are npcs who address Artemy himself as 'oynon' so it applies to them both (although I could swear there was a dialogue where he was explaining that he doesn't count as one before taking on his father's inheritance fully and yet I couldn't find it so hm maybe mixed it up with smth else.. either way he def became one after inheriting yep). Also, there was this line of dialogue towards officer Longin (in Russian it's about the tu-vous difference but either way it reads as a refusal to submit to non-Kin social structure, same way he bristles against Olgimskys' attempts to bring him to heel).

So I feel like not switching to first-name basis is more about his colder personality? It's not that he distrusts Daniil, one of the first things he says about him is that he could immediately tell that the Bachelor is an extremely honest kind of person, but hmm... His friendship with Rubin seems much better off even despite their initial misunderstanding and he switches to calling the Inquisitor by her first name almost immediately, so my interpretation is just that he always operated under the assumption that Daniil's goals would diverge from his own sooner or later (again that predetermination streak), and that was already enough for him to stay on guard despite the supposed 'friendship'. A lot of his later game dialogue options after knowing where the Bachelor stands are straight up mean, not very friendly or submissive if you ask me.

He talks with the same derisive forwardness in the Bachelor's route when it comes to Aglaya, somehow he just doesn't seem to relate to him at all (even though I think he should have, what with Oyun jerking him around in similar enough ways). So if anything it is the Bachelor in Haruspex route who is doing his best to ingratiate himself at least a little, just like Capella said... @the-invisible-foe but mentioning the Bachelor in unrelated journal notes is interesting, I didn't even pay attention to that but yeah, that's something at least!

how to get into your man's head by sending him letters daily 101 ...eh honestly there are also so many moments when one of them starts getting upset about being perceived as dumb by the other too now that I think about it... it def feels like a case of fragile male ego for the haruspex for sure at least, just kinda a need to prove himself to this educated capital man while also establishing that his way is fundamentally 'better'... trying to impress each other and then getting mad about it, idk yeah there's something there maybe, and p2 also explored that sort of thing...

Okay finished the Haruspex route of Pathologic Classic! I need to play Clara's route to see the whole picture but I'm already fascinated by the differences between P1 and P2 in terms of characterization. I think I like Pathologic 2 even more now considering how they improved on Artemy's route, I am sorry to say I didn't like it at all in classic... This is all just my personal impression after first playthrough ofc. Ramblings about both Artemy and Daniil ↓ I think what bothered me about Haruspex was mostly just his attitude and his messiah plot. Once the first day is out of the way it's all smooth sailing for him, a bit too much so?? The only personal conflict he has is figuring out his father's exact wishes for him and choosing a sacrifice. Killing anyone is treated as fair or something that needed to happen and the Haruspex is always shrugging it off... And either option, Aglaya & the Town or Polyhedron... It just doesn't seem like he is that attached to either? So it doesn't feel like he is sacrificing much personally? Like sure he wants to save the Town because of his messianic qualities, but that's again more about fulfilling his 'role' rather than genuinely wanting to save lives, or at least it read that way to me. I'm sure it's meant to be both and P2 makes this far more apparent, but in P1 it elicited a rather squinty reaction from me. Plus well yeah, getting rid of Polyhedron is pretty much just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯, like yep he sure didn't care about that thing lmao so getting rid of it isn't such a difficult choice at all. The suggestion that the Polyhedron could be his Udurgh is kind of useless because the Town and Earth are far better candidates and fit with Kin beliefs better, which in this game Artemy pretty much doesn't doubt at all. Maybe this is why the Bachelor is so present in his route? Daniil did say he'd commit suicide if he lost, maybe we'd want to think twice about pushing him towards it... But again! Does it seem like this guy cares ahhh haha... The dialogue option that is actually engaging with what Daniil said is pretty much there to make it clear to the player what the Utopian ending is and what it would be like.

Ngl at first I thought he was meant to be the 'sacrifice' until they said it's a woman. Every time Artemy learned something about the Bachelor's motivations he'd write down in his diary like '...if it matters' since the player can always choose what ending to go with I guess. I also find it curious that he can say that they are friends but still always writing only 'the Bachelor' in his diaries while Daniil switched to 'Artemy' and 'Burakh' during the final stretch. The one-sided yaoi................ 🤔 At least Artemy doesn't get mad at him for ordering to set the mythic bull on fire, I guess their friendship did mean something to him after all at that point. Also when Capella tells him that he should ask the Bachelor for help with getting into the Polyhedron since the Bachelor 'fawns upon you a lot anyway' the Haruspex just goes 'oh yeah! ok' fjdghdjg... Now that I think about it I DID like the Haruspex route for what it did with the Bachelor hahah, his dialogues and letters are just so good sometimes. Like wow, I felt this.

Very cool, if i was Artemy I'd totally abandon my weird murderous calling for this. Tangentially related... P2 had one moment that I remember from my last replay when Rubin, if kept alive, falls into a deep deserved sleep in his home, and Artemy just starts emotionally monologuing at him.

Like, P1 Artemy would never, but also it goes to show that he's still very much a repressed man here too, buying into toxic masculinity ideals who can't just talk to his friends about his feelings directly... The same character, but more complex. I want to make it clear that I DO like him and his motivations in P2 actually, and his personal conflict being more about the future of the Kin makes that game much more powerful to me than what his classic route was. I heard that initially he was planned to be far more violent and dark, so maybe he could have been sort of a villain protagonist and this was changed later and this is why it feels a bit bland? Hmm... Idk this is fun to me because meanwhile the Bachelor didn't feel that different to me in both games lmao. A highly stressed educated guy who is just trying to prevent the spread of epidemic the 'right' way and then clinging to the only chance he has left to preserve both his ideals and his life. He is a bit less polite in P2 at first (while still very much helping by warding off Rubin) but then rather quickly becomes more cordial to Artemy and vice versa (and wow it sure is nice when Artemy can actually be polite and friendly..). And the moment when he explains some of his personal deal to Artemy feels rather similar in both iterations mood-wise.

I liked his route in P1 a lot, surprisingly so, and I now understand why so many people liked him before P2 came out and afterwards too... There's just something very real about how he is the intelligent Capital doctor but with an extraordinary dream to combat death itself, possibly given to him by the Powers That Be due to these children trying to cope with people dying around them. And instead of favoring him for it they hate him! They leave him with nothing but this final chance to fix things, even if that means destroying everything and rebuilding anew. Daniil's desperation feels very real and thus more compelling, plus like... I mean it's pretty much confirmed that it's not just the Polyhedron and that the soil itself is 'rotten' (literally in the meta real world and through blood beneath the earth in the Town itself) and the decease could return again, sooo his ending doesn't look that bad comparatively. I also appreciated how Maria (or uhh was it Nina talking through her here as well?) explained how their Utopia doesn't actually mean a 'perfect' place, more so just an impossible dream.

The Bachelor doesn't mind this at all, a detail I loved.

...Hmm that said maybe P1 makes it a little too easy for him to kinda ignore the Kin issue, he is only mad about their circumstances when it comes to Vlad choosing to doom thousands of the Kin workers inside the Termitary (which is just his doctor ethics). I mean it is realistic for him to ignore the implications of representing the imperialist side, he does mention his father was a military man too at some point I think... Still, he is very quick to accept the Kin's unique beliefs as something that has obvious merit, trusting the Haruspex with that side of things in both of their routes, and he doesn't make much of a distinction between them and regular Town people when it comes to patient treatment. If anything it's probably a sign of how the writers weren't thinking that hard about this worldbuilding aspect at the time... even if I appreciated them showing the downsides of the Kin's society, I think those were done better than in P2 purely because it was a bit more realistic (I am talking about sexism mostly, such as selling their own daughters and not respecting their autonomy, plus the mention of Kin politics and different ruling clans rather than the hive mind situation implied in P2). Like, it is more obvious in P1 that wholeheartedly embracing the Kin's return to tradition isn't such a good solution for them either, but one that will likely happen anyway with Artemy and Taya as their new leaders. And it could get trickier in Pathologic 3 I think, especially since most of us really appreciated the portrayal of colonization in P2 and would expect it getting addressed again in future games of other character routes, but we'll see I guess! Either way I look forward to that game a lot now.

#pathologic #artemy burakh #daniil dankovsky #sorry for such a long addition these characters just make me think a lot of thoughts i guess #especially since p2 was my first game so it is fascinating to see the roots and how the narrative developed over the years #almost the same team and the same creative lead in charge but at least in p2 his power fantasy guy is like #written more as an actual fictional character #which i appreciate...#altho the projection is still there ofc #text #long post

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