#it took me a moment but when i realized what beard was doing i died

[schreibfederlaerm]

i know it's just one joke in an amazingly funny episode but this scene transition killed me

[patscorner]

FAMILY DINNER PART 4 (FINALE)

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, narcissistic dad, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed(NO DETAIL), lmk if I missed something

wc: 3.5k

a/n: so sorry this one took so long. I've been swamped with schoolwork and writers block. here's the long-awaited finale. feel free to leave ur thoughts in my inbox

______________________________

You turn around at the voice, as you recognize it, but can’t put your finger on it. You turn around to look at Nick, whose head is also turned to look in the direction of the voice. “Who’s that?” Nick asked, letting you go and moving so you could see the figure clearly.

You don’t recognize the person at first, but based on his familiar figure and his almost distinguishable voice, the dots connect in a moment's time.

You gasp, your hands covering your mouth as your heart jumps in your chest. Your eyes meet the familiar eyes of your older brother, Cam. He looks much different from the last time you saw him, his ginger hair grown past his ears, and he’s started growing a beard.

You don’t say a word before walking up to him. You reach up and touch his face to make sure he’s real, and you're not seeing things; something you wouldn’t put past yourself, as this entire night seems like some long, tragic, nightmare.

“I’ve missed you.” He whispers, pulling you into a much needed warm embrace. You bury your head in the crook of his neck as tears, ones that you thought you’d run out of, fall from your eyes and onto his shirt. “Missed you, too.” Your voice comes out muffled by his shirt.

You pull away and look at the stain on his shirt. “Oops.” You say, smiling, remembering how Cam used to complain about the tear stains on his shirt when you were younger, but you both knew it never really bothered him too much. “Damn it. It’s been like 20 seconds, and you’ve already got my shirt wet. Like you're doing it on purpose at this point.” he laughs. You slap his chest and laugh lightly.

The laughing dies down and you guys are met with awkward silence. “So, what the fuck happened around here?” he asked, breaking the silence. You look at him sadly, before your eyes drop to your shoes. “Oh, you know, just a good ole family dinner.” You glance up at Cam, whose lip curls upwards for a second, before dropping. “What happened?” he asked, softer this time, looking for more of an answer.

“Dad met my boyfriend.” You say. “I sent yo-” you cut yourself off as your eyes widened. “Wait, why’d you come, you never come.” You haven’t seen your brother in more than 5 years, and all the sudden he randomly shows up to a family dinner? You’ve sent him countless invites to the family gatherings, all were left unanswered.

“Well, I couldn’t miss another boyfriend meeting. Not after the last one. Plus, I didn’t get an invite last year or the year before, so I was really confused. I thought you guys finally realized how nothing ever changes.” His voice was calm, like it usually was, even when talking about something so emotional. You nodded, eyes lighting up once again, as you remember Nick is standing behind you. “That reminds me. Nick! Come here!” You raise your voice slightly at Nick, who is no more than ten feet away on his phone, probably texting Marylou and Jimmy about their situation.

Nick turns around and smiles, making his way to you both. “This is Chris’s brother, Nick. Nick, this is my older brother, Cam.” The men exchange greetings and Cam turns to you. “Where is your boyfriend, anyway?”

“Currently? Probably getting processed into the county jail.” Nick speaks bluntly. You and Cam look over at him, Cam more shocked than I am. “Seriously?” Cam’s eyes shoot to yours. You nod. “Holy, fuck, this is worse than last time.” he rubs his head, as you nod once again.

“What happened last time?” Nick asks, looking between you and Cam. Cam shakes his head, “Story for another time, but let’s just say he did not stay for dessert.” You laugh at the reference, shaking your head at the memory. Nick rolls his eyes. “How are we gonna get my brother out of jail?” he reminds you.

You sigh, “I don’t know if we can. Where the fuck are we gonna get sixty grand? I-I mean, we could make a go fund me, I’m certain your fans would be more than willing…” You truly have no other ideas, and as much as you didn’t want to use their fans for money, you were desperate. You could see Nick hesitate at the idea, knowing his PR team was gonna have a field day.

“Let me help.” Cam offers, shrugging it off. You and Nick both look at him. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.” You say, shaking your head.

“You didn’t ask, I offered.” he shrugged again. “Let me help.” he repeated, this time more sternly, as if every other suggestion was out of the question. You look at Nick who raises his eyebrows. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” Nick responds, quickly embracing Cam.

Cam’s eyes widened, hesitating for a moment before hugging him back. You smile, knowing Cam was never the type to enjoy hugs or any sort of physical touch. “Alright, alright, if you hug me any tighter, you’ll pop my lungs.” he strained out.

Nick pulled away, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry.” He nervously shoved his hands in his pocket. You chuckle at Nick’s actions, before embracing Cam as well, yours a lot more heartfelt. “I’m so happy you’re back.” you mumble into his shoulder. He squeezes you tighter. “Happy to be back.”

_____

Cam now sat on the couch, checkbook open. You’d told your siblings he was back, and tears were shed. You had no idea where your mom was, nor did you care. She and your father were the least of your concerns, you just wanted your boyfriend. Even though it’s only been a couple hours, you were so worried about Chris.

You knew how much he liked to talk, and that scared the fuck outta you, but Matt assured you he knew how to shut the fuck up when he absolutely needed. If it came to his or his family’s safety, Chris would never speak again.

“Okay, okay, so I can get 2000 dollars from Mom and Dad, out of their retirement fund.” Nick spoke out, typing quickly on his phone. He had convinced Cam not to pay for it all because it was his brother, not Cam’s. Cam reluctantly agreed. Cam nodded at Nick’s words.

“I can give you guys 52 grand, I just won’t be able to get starbucks in the morning anymore.” He shrugged. You had learned that Cam was the CEO of a very prestigious clothing company, ‘Cam’s Clothing’, (very creative), which is where he got all this money from. “So with 52 grand, Peter’s grand, my two grand, and Nick’s 2 grand, it’s only 57,000 dollars.” You sigh.

“Yeah, but the officer only said it was an estimate. It may not be that much.” Matt chimed in, rubbing Maya’s back. She had refused to go upstairs again, and opted for sleeping on Matt’s lap. He didn’t mind, and you were too tired to fight it. Plus, you understood, Matt had been the closest thing to a father figure tonight, and Maya needed that.

The rest of the night consisted of you being held by Cam as he told you, your siblings, and Nick and Matt, stories about his life since he’d been gone. You were so happy he was back, and you let him distract you and your family from the tasks that were to come.

_____

The next week was spent sitting down with Chris’s lawyer, the triplets PR team, figuring out how to get him out of jail, and how to do so quietly. None of you cared if the internet knew, it was moreso the onslaught of opinions that would pop up from people who had no fucking idea what was going on. It’s been a week, and none of the triplets had posted anything, except for Nick posting on the group account that something came up and there wouldn’t be a video for a while.

And that alone was enough to send the fans into a spiral. All hell broke loose as theories and conspiracies flew towards the Sturniolos left and right. Some say Matt was sent to a mental institution, that one of the triplets was dying, that Chris and you broke up. It was chaos, causing you and the triplets to delete social media. You’d all be back, but you were already stressed as is, and you didn’t need to add dumbass rumors to the mix.

Tensions had already boiled over, when you went off on Matt because he blamed you for Chris going to jail in the first place.

“I can’t fucking believe your father put my brother in jail.” Matt scoffed. You both had been going back and forth playfully, until you made a joke Matt didn’t like, causing him to overstep. It had been a long day, as he hadn’t been sleeping and social media was getting in his head. You were just as stressed as Matt so of course the argument escalated.

“That’s got nothing to do with me, Matt! I told you all what was going to happen if we went! And if I remember correctly, youall said it was going to be fine! This isn’t fucking on me.” You spit out. You were glad your younger siblings weren’t home. They didn’t need to hate Matt, because you didn’t even if you were arguing with him.

“How the fuck was I supposed to know your bitchass dad was going to try and kill him?! This isn’t on anyone but you and your fucked up family!” he shouts. At that moment, you were also glad Peter and Cam weren’t home, because if they were, there would be a Sturniolo in the hospital, and a couple more charges on Peter.

“Matthew Bernard! What the fuck is your problem?!” Nick scolded. He’d been watching the argument unfold, not wanting to intervene, although now he wished he had. “Have you lost your fucking mind?!” Nick shouted at Matt, who looked at his shoes. You felt the hot tears roll down your face as you stared at Matt.

Your heart stung at his words, sure, but you always had a way of understanding when any of the triplets were overwhelmed. So, instead of shouting back at him, you walked up to him and took him into a tight embrace. He immediately broke down in your arms, his tears staining your shirt. His knees went weak and you slowly lowered both of you to the ground. Nick joined you shortly after, and the three of you spent the rest of that night crying in each other's arms.

So it’s safe to say social media had to go. That was a no brainer. So all of you deleted the apps, making sure the accounts stayed.

Now if someone were to ask you how you were doing, you would burst into tears. You missed your boyfriend and you worried about him constantly. Despite having talked to him everyday through the jail phone, updating him on progress, and him assuring you he was fine, you couldn’t help but hold the heavy weight of anxiety on your chest.

Your nails were bitten down to the nub from the chewing and you had rashes on your arms from scratching your skin as you thought about your boyfriend. Nick had to talk you out of driving to the jailhouse and demanding them to release your boyfriend, and Matt had to calm you down from multiple panic attacks you had just doing things that reminded you of him.

But finally, the day had come. Your dad and Chris in the courtroom, both in orange jumpers and handcuffs on their wrists, your dads arms behind his back, your boyfriends in front of him. Chris looked exhausted, and you assumed it’s because he never slept well by himself. His hair was unkempt and his stubble had started growing in, due to him not being able to shave. His bruises had mostly healed, except for the cut above his eyebrow you must’ve missed when he was in the cop car.

Your dad on the other hand, had 2 officers on each side of him, and his face was fucked up. He had a bruise along his jaw, along with a black eye and a bloody nose. You almost feel bad, but then remember he’s the whole reason you’re in this mess.

There’s no jury, so it’s just you, Nick, Matt, Cam, and Peter sitting in the courtroom. When Chris locks eyes with you, his face lights up and his eyes immediately fill with tears. Not only has he missed you, but he’s missed his brothers, his freedom, and his privacy.

The trial goes smoothly, the judge asks your dad to stop talking twice. Other than that, the trial continued without issues, both lawyers articulating their words carefully for the best outcome for their clients. The judge did not seem to bite the bait your dad’s lawyer laid out, seeing right through the fancy words to distract him from what was truly being implied.

You could tell by the way he looked unimpressed at your dad, even more so when he found out about his not so pretty criminal history. However, when it came down to it, Chris attacked him, despite the valid reasoning. The judge did recognize Chris’s clean record, not even having a parking ticket, which isn’t surprising considering the man didn’t have his license. Chris and his lawyer had their story down to a tee, while your dad and his lawyer struggled to cover up the holes forming in their version.

The judge noticed, of course, and he didn’t let them get away with it either. After what felt like years, the judge came to a conclusion.

“In the case of David, you’ll be sentenced to 3 years in the county penitentiary, with bail being posted at eighty-five thou-”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me! He hit me! Why the fuck would I go to prison?!” Your dad cuts him off, ignoring his lawyer’s pleas. He had stood up, causing the officers around him to be on high alert.

“Sir, stop talking. If you find it hard to do so, you will be removed from the courtroom.” the judge deadpanned. Your dad grumbled under his breath before sitting back down reluctantly.

“Thank you.” he clears his throat. “Where was I-? Oh, okay. Bail will be posted at eighty five thousand dollars, with a year and a half of probation.” he sighs as he directs his attention to Chris.

“In the case of Chris, you will not have to go to prison.” You let out a deep breath you didn’t even know you were holding, clinging to Nick’s side, squeezing his bicep in anticipation. “However.”

Your heart dropped.

“You will be on probation for six months, because you did assault an officer. I understand you have two places of residence, so you can choose what state you’d like to be as you will not be able to leave.

The judge stacked his papers up before looking at the plaintiff. “Get him in a transport van. And get Mr. Sturniolo out of those handcuffs.” The plaintiff nods as he starts towards Chris. The judge smacked the gavel on the table.

“Case dismissed.”

You stand at the stove, stirring the steaming pot of spaghetti, humming to Right Here by Chase Atlantic. It’s been a month since Chris and your dad’s trial, and things have been… rocky to say the least. After getting a mouthful from your mother, she left the house without telling anyone her destination. You figured she just left to cool off, as she had before, but after a day, you began growing worried.

The second your call went to voicemail for the 45th time, you decided to file a missing persons report. Of course, they claimed they couldn’t do anything, especially after you slipped up and told them it’s happened before, they no longer took you seriously, despite you informing them that it’s never lasted this long before.

That following weeks, you decided that she probably wasn’t coming back, so you got temporary custody of your younger siblings. That’s the reason you're still in your hometown, cooking dinner for 9. You knew the boys would be hungry when they got back from James’s football game, and since they had already got takeout twice that week, you told Matt to just bring them home.

Jules and Maya went to a friend's house for a playdate, although Julia insisted it was a hangout. So that left you at home alone, which you didn’t mind considering you live with 9 people temporarily. But your peace is interrupted by the door unlocking, followed by lots of yelling.

You roll your eyes and turn your music off, as you know you won’t be able to hear it anyway. James is the first up the stairs with a giant smile on his face, running up to you. “I won the first game! I got the winning touchdown, and even though some bitch fucked up my shoulder, I was able to catch the ball!”

Your eyes widen as you look at Nick. “Why the fuck is my brother swearing like a sailor?!” You exclaim. “You told me you’d watch your mouth.” You point at Nick after turning the heat down on the stove.

“Why’d you assume it was me?! Matt spends more time with him!?” Nick raised his hands in defense. “Matt knows how to watch his mouth, unlike you!” you laugh.

“She’s got a point.” Matt spoke. Nick rolls his eyes and James looks at you with giant puppy eyes. “What?”

“I scored the winning touchdown!” he announced. You laughed, and engulfed him in a big hug, grimacing at his sweaty body. “Congratulations, kid. I’m proud of you. Now go shower, you stink.” you say pulling away.

“Thank you.” he looked up at you before sprinting up the stairs. You smile as you direct your attention to the rest of the boys that had walked in. Cam, Peter, and Nick got comfy on the couch, while Matt made his way to his room.

You smile at the last standing brunette, your beautiful boyfriend, taking his shoes off. “Hi, baby.” he says as he approaches you, resting his hands around your waist. You nuzzle your head into his chest, humming as you breathe in his scent. Ever since Chris got back, you’d be clinging to him like a koala.

“What’re you making?” he asks softly, guiding you both to the stove, curiously peering into the pot. “Chicken alfredo.” you reply, taking the boiling water off the hot eye. Noticing the sudden silence, you turn around to see all eyes on you.

“What?” you question, looking down at yourself, checking that you didn’t spill anything on your clothes. When you find nothing, you look back up. “What?” you repeat.

“Chris if you don’t fucking marry her, I will.” Nick finally says, causing Cam to laugh. You smile as you look at Chris, who practically has hearts in eyes. “Nah, bro, she’s all mine.” he smiles, approaching you and cupping your jaw with both hands, before kissing you passionately. You hesitate out of shock, before melting into the kiss.

You swear you could feel every word Chris wanted to say, in that one moment. You could feel every word of admiration, every word laced with love, all communicated to you through one kiss.

“Alright, alright, get a room.” Peter grimaces, turning back to the TV.

Chris pulls away, rolling his eyes. “With pleasure.” he said, grabbing your hand, pulling you behind him as he started towards the stairs.

“Ew!” Nick exclaimed.

“I should’ve shut my mouth.” Peter laughs, shaking his head. “Use protection!” Cam called after you, causing you to laugh out loud.

“Chris, what about dinner?” you ask as he tugs you up the stairs into the guest bedroom where you and him reside. “They can get takeout.” he muttered, closing the door as he pulled you into another loving kiss. You roll your eyes but sigh into the kiss anyway.

He leads you to the bed, pushing you down so he can hover over you. “You’re so fucking pretty.” he whispers before wrapping his lips around your neck. You whine as he sucks the spot on your neck.

“Chris..”

“Hm.”

“I love you.” He pulls away, placing a kiss on your lips. “I love you so much more, sweetheart.” he whispers as he rubs circles on your hips with his right hand. “Now, stay still.”

You latch your lips onto his, continuing the passionate make out Chris had started downstairs. His tongue swipes your bottom lip, and you open your mouth a little, as a battle for dominance ensues. You lose, as usual.

You both are interrupted by your phone buzzing, and you pull away as Chris whines. “Baby…”

“I know, hang on.” You open your phone and see a message from Cam.

|‘Dont be silly, wrap the willy’|

|‘No but fr, that mf better pull out, theres already to many kids’|

You laugh and show Chris the phone, and he smiles before rolling his eyes playfully. “Fine, now can we continue?”

You smile. “Yes, sir.” kissing Chris as he groans.

______________________________

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[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Day 4 - Fall Activities

Eli laughed as he tore apart a piece of garlic bread. “So you went to the Jungle to look for Uncle Jackson and ended up surrounded by drag queens?”

“Yep. They kind of adopted me.” Stiles sighed, jerking his shoulders. “They are a great group of people. That is also the night I tried to tell your grandfather that I was questioning my sexuality but he did not believe me.”

Eli smirked. “Bet he believed you when you married Da.”

“That he did.” Stiles hummed, looking around the small restaurant. They were the only people there and it looked like the staff was trying to close up. “Let's go for a walk.”

Eli nodded, gazing around the table. He had not realized how late it had gotten. “I don’t know. Shouldn’t you get me home?”

He raised an eyebrow at his son. “Do you have a curfew I don’t know about?”

“No, Da believes that I’m old enough to make my own decisions about how late I stay out. But I don’t like making him worry.” Eli smiled at him.

Stiles nodded. “We’ll give him a call. I want to spend a little longer with you.” he ran a hand over his face as he guided his son from the restaurant. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Eli thought for a moment. He had always had a completely open relationship with his fathers. “Well, I’m a gender nonconformist and I’m asexual. I signed up to compete in the drag competition at this year's harvest festival.”

Stiles chuckled softly. “That sounds like a lot of fun.“ He let out a long breath as they walked down the street. “Not that I’m not 100% supportive, but what does gender nonconformist mean?”

Eli laughed loudly. “Just that I don’t prescribe to societal norms on what a person of a gender should act. I like wearing dresses as much as I like jeans. I like cooking and playing rugby. I hate lacrosse, by the way.”

“Oh, hell, I‘ve know that since you were four and wanted a tinkerbell costume for Halloween.” Stiles laughed. He frowned at his son, shaking his head. “Where did I go wrong? Hating lacrosse should be a mortal sin.”

“I’m no good at it, papa.” Eli groaned. “Unless I use my werewolf strengths, which seems unfair.”

“I’m kidding, Eli.” Stiles smiled. “I wasn’t very good at the sport either. It took being bitten for your uncle Scott to gain any skill at the sport.”

Eli nodded, letting out a long sigh. “I’ve missed you, papa. I’m glad you are moving back to Beacon Hills even if you aren’t reconnecting with Da.”

Stiles sighed, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I can ever fully forgive your father for what happened, but I don’t want you to feel like I’m punishing you for his actions.” He scratched at his beard. “Eli, I’m not angry that your father sacrificed himself for you. I would have done the exact same thing.” He stopped to look into his son’s eyes. “I’m upset because he put himself in that position in the first place, neglected to call me and then gave you to Scott instead of leaving you with your family.” He let out a breath. “He essentially took you away from me. I know it’s been 3 years but it feels like yesterday.”

Eli pulled his father into a hug, letting out a breath. “Why did you never talk to me? You just left.”

Stiles chuckled through a fresh batch of tears. “I did not want to put you in the middle of me and your father. And I figured if your father could discard me so easily, I shouldn’t be here. So, I left.”

Eli shook his head. He really did not want to argue with Stiles. Their night was going so well. “But I needed you here. Do you know how much therapy I needed after the nogitsune? Add losing both of my parents to that. Da died, and you abandoned me.”

Stiles sat in the snow, looking up at his son. “I can never express how I am sorry for my part in all of that crap. I never wanted to live in this town, Eli. I begged your father to come to DC with me and he refused. But I still should not have left you. That is all on me.” He chewed his lip and sighed. “I’d understand if you never forgive me.”

Eli sat next to him, looking up at the stars. “I understand that Beacon Hills sucks, but life is shitty everywhere, papa. Uncle Liam went all the way to Japan with Hikari, and they were still attacked by Mr. Harris.”

Stiles laughed. “Yeah, I still can’t believe that asshole is still alive.” He threw an arm over Eli’s shoulder. “How did you get so wise?”

“Buffy the Vampire Slayer, mostly. You know Uncle Peter is obsessed with the show?” Eli laughed. “But in all honesty, lots of therapy.” He sighed, thinking. “I wanted to hate you for leaving but you never failed to come back anytime I called. It honestly never made sense; you were traveling back and forth.”

“It didn’t need to make sense, Eli. The only thing that ever mattered to me was your safety and happiness.” Stiles sighed. “I’d do anything for you.” He thought for a moment and then pulled a single key from his pocket. “This is yours.”

Eli frowned, taking the key. “What is this for? Grandpa already gave me the jeep.”

Stiles laughed. “Because we got tired of you stealing it.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I bought a small apartment grouping. There are only three units and this key is for yours.”

Eli, shook his head. “Why?”

“Several reasons.” He smiled. “You’re an adult now. You are graduating in half a year and you’ll be going to college. So you’ll be wanting your own space. These apartments will be under your name, so it’s a good investment.”

“What if I don’t want to invest in apartments?” Eli frowned.

Stiles smirked. “Then the ownership reverts back to me, and I’ll just put the money in your trust fund.” He pushed the hair from Eli’s face. “You’re an adult now, and honestly much more responsible than I ever was. I trust you can make your own choices here but for now, you have a place you can escape to.”

Eli hugged him tight. “Thank you, papa.”

“You’re welcome.” Stiles smiled into his shoulder.

🐺

Eli walked into his house and smiled at Derek who was sitting at the fire reading a book. “Hey, Da. What are still doing up.”

Derek looked up from his book. “Couldn’t sleep. I’m kind of itching in my own skin.” He stood up, looking over Eli. “Why are you wet?”

“Papa and I kind of laid in the snow.” He shrugged , holding up the key. “Did you know he bought me an apartment?”

“Yeah, he told me.” Derek chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “That's why he was so upset with Peter.”

“What did uncle Peter do this time?” Eli frowned.

Derek chuckled. “Your uncle decided to make sure that all the properties that Stiles looked at were his. Then sold it to him way below market value.” His ears turned pink as he shook his head. “So stiles bought the property with family money, making it look like money laundering.”

Eli started laughing loudly. “When will those two stop fucking with each other?”

“Watch your mouth.” Derek frowned. “And probably never. They enjoy the back and forth too much.” He patted his son on the shoulder. “Get in dry clothes and go to bed. I’ll lock up the house.”

Eli nodded heading up the stairs.

🐺

Lydia stepped into the Washington DC apartment with Stiles. “Wow.” She sighed. “There is nothing here, Stiles. It’s so impersonal.”

Stiles shrugged, placing his few boxes on the table. “I never really saw the point. I went to work and came home. Occasionally I went to visit Isaac in Paris or I went home to visit Eli. All my important possessions are with my dad or Eli.”

Lydia nodded as she began packing dishes. “How bad is it, Stiles?”

“Hmmm?” Stiles frowned as he dug suits out of his small closet. “How bad is what?”

“You’re sick Stiles. I’m not sure how yet, but I can feel it.” Lydia sighed. She had been wanting to ask Stiles about it all week but they had not really been in a good place yet.

Stiles groaned, shaking his head. “It’s nothing a little fresh air can’t fix. I just… all the fighting took a lot out of me. The doctors say I have extreme PTSD. It affected my ability to judge how much alcohol I intook and that affected the health of my liver.”

Lydia sighed, shaking her head. “Dammit, Stiles. You should have come home sooner.” She chewed her lip. “And how long have you been sober?”

Stiles laughed. “Two months. I’m going to be alright.” He pulled a chip from his pocket and tossed it to Lydia. “ I was really good at hiding it. I’ve always been good at hiding things.”

Lydia nodded, looking over the sobriety chip. “Do you have a sponsor back home?”

“Not yet but I’ll find a group.” Stiles shrugged.

“Do Eli and Derek know?” Lydia asked, tilting her head as she handed the chip back to Stiles.

“No, and I really don’t want them to.” He sighed, turning back toward the closet. “My dad knows and they have me on all sorts of medications to deal with the PTSD and depression.”

Lydia laid a hand on his shoulder. “You have to at least tell Eli, Stiles. He deserves to know.”

Stiles shook his head. “What good will it do? He shouldn’t have to worry about me. It’s my job to worry about him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you.” Lydia sighed. “At least you’re coming home.” She pulled her hair back into a ponytail as she got back to work. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Anytime, Lydia.” He sighed and dug through the closet. He really did not have much but it felt cathartic to pack up this era of his life.

🐺

Peter walked into the house and smiled as he watched Eli. “You should be at the auto shop.”

Eli shrugged. “Malia and I switched shifts. I’m supposed to meet papa at the new apartment in an hour.” He leaned against the counter, pursing his lips. “Why did you help papa get the complex anyway?”

Peter shrugged, sitting at the island. “As I told him, I want to take care of my family. Stiles is not doing too well right now and he needs to be back here with us.” He watched his nephew make a sandwich. “He needs his family and he can’t get that in the capital.”

Eli nodded, looking at the food in front of him. “Why sell him the property so cheaply instead of giving it to him? You’ll get eaten by the taxes.”

Peter smirked. “I know him very well. He would not have taken it. Your father is a proud man, and I have no shame.” He chuckled.

Eli rolled his eyes in typical Hale fashion. “I’m just so confused. Why now and not three years ago?”

“You’ll have to ask Stiles about that. That is not my story to tell.” Peter cleared his throat and lit a cigarette.

“I never get a straight from any of you.” He grumbled as he finished his sandwich. “You always seem to know everything about everyone. How do you manage it?”

“Ah, dear nephew, that is the question. Isn’t it?” Peter chuckled. “That was my job in Talia’s pack, and it has become second nature to me. Keeping secrets is my greatest talent. One day you’ll find a second and that will be his job, keeping your secrets.”

“Papa’s right.” Eli frowned. “You treat our family like the mafia.”

Peter smirked. “A pack is remarkably similar. We hide in the shadows, keep the area safe, make deals with neighboring families, and kill only if we really need to. I may have taken that last point to extreme, once upon a time.”

Eli, chuckled. “That is an understatement. You tried to kill Kate, uncle Chris, and a shit load of other hunters.”

“Yes, well, they set my family on fire. I was out of my mind.” Peter raised a brow at him. “Did your fathers ever tell you how they stopped me?”

“Yeah, malitolve cocktail and they ripped your throat out.” Eli nodded, taking a bite from his sandwich. “You were dead like what, two weeks?”

Peter bobbed his head side to side. “About. And Stiles has not stopped calling me Zombie Wolf since.” He smiled. “And since he threw that cocktail at me, he has not stopped fighting.” He put the cigarette out. “Give Stiles a bit of slack. He’ll let you know that part of himself eventually.”

Eli nodded, raising his brow. “Is that why you’re here?”

Peter nodded. “I’m sure your father has mentioned once or twice that I stick my nose where it doesn’t belong.” He chuckled. “Honestly, how does everyone put up with me.”

“I have no idea.” Eli snarked.

[male-meat-suit]

CRIMINAL MIND + ANGEL BODY = PERFECT COMBINATION 4

The night was spectacular. I woke up the next morning in a messy bed, with a naked girl next to me, the one from the night before. I got up and dressed without the girl noticing. I wrote a note and left it at the foot of the bed, the night was spectacular and I would do it again at any time, but really I was just looking for sex.

When I leave the girl's house, I don't really know where I am, my motorcycle is parked on the street, I get on it and make it roar. I start the march to go to the house of my body. From what I could find out from the ID on his wallet, Tom lived alone with his father, his mother had died a few years ago in an accident, I actually remember hearing something in jail. I get to his house and when I go to open the door a pair of arms hold me tightly against the wall. Tom's father, Nick, looks at me with teary eyes. I'm stupid, I didn't realize that Tom is the ideal son, and having been missing for more than a day must have worried his father. I'm not used to people worrying about me, even though I'm not really their son.

Nick is a tall and burly man, and a sculpted muscle torso can be easily made out under his clothing. He has short dark hair and an extremely sexy bushy beard. He's the kind of man you want on your side in a fight. He wears a plaid shirt that doesn't really do any good for him and formal pants. He hugs me tightly, while he cries on my shoulder.

"Where were you? I was very worried and I already called the police. I thought I had lost you like your mother"

"Are you OK? Nothing wrong with you? God, you're going to be grounded until the day you die Tom, but you can't even imagine how happy I am right now. "

"I'm fine dad, nothing has happened to me. But I had to spend the night outside because I was locked up in the institute and I couldn't call anyone. I was in the warehouse all night and this morning the security guard took me out" .

It is evident that Tom does not usually lie, because his father believed me even though it is the worst lie I have ever told, just to get out of the moment of trouble. This can be a problem. I've been mulling over my decisions. I need revenge on those who testified against me in the trials but I can't do it alone. I need to reunite my old gang, but going to their meeting place in Tom's body is dangerous, both for Tom and me. I have promised that when my revenge is finished I will release Tom, and that is how it will be, but for now it is a very useful tool. However, for this occasion I think I could use another body. I need something that can perfectly control my gang in case they don't believe my story. Something masculine and threatening. I think I can kill two birds with one stone. Nick has the perfect body for this, and if I turn him into a suit, I'll save myself any future trouble with him. I have to thank the nerd who turned Tom into a suit, since he left one of the vials of the drug in Tom's clothes.

As I walk into the house, I inject the vial into Nick's back and watch it fall to the floor like a new suit. I don't really have time to explore his body like I'd like, so I just step out of Tom's body and gently lay him down on the couch. I undress Nick and lay him upright, I can admire that he has the body of a fucking Greek god. I think I could have fun later too but I don't have time. I go to what I think is his bedroom and pick out some clothes from his closet, something simple dark and tactical. I change into Nick's suit, get dressed, and head out the door to my bike. It's time to reunite the old gang.

[astoldbyaja]

The Orisha and the Hashira Part 2 - Ch.1

Sequel to The Orisha and the Hashira

Ayo finds herself at Muzan's mercy as she does what is needed in order to survive and get Femi out of the Infinity Castle at all costs and get back to her beloved mate. Meanwhile Bambaataa, Kyojuro and the rest of the Hashira must put together a plan and fast to find and save both Orisha before Orisha Ogun steps in and takes matters into his own hands which would lead to the annihilation of the entire Demon Slayer Corps.

WARNING: MDNI 18+ Rape/non-con, smut heavy smut, mature content.

Whispers spread through the foggy mist of the land between realms.

“Two Orisha have been captured.”

“Two missing by one demon.”

“One demon that created all demons.”

“Liability.”

“Defenses are down.”

“Not enough self-portraits.”

“Who is to blame?”

“Who is responsible?”

“Those that hunt the demons.”

“Human demon slayers.”

“Demon Slayer Corps.”

“Weak.”

“Pathetic.”

“We want blood.”

“We want war.”

“Kill them all.”

“Kill the demons and the slayers.”

“Retrieve the heart and the water.”

“I warned you all of the threat of Muzan Kibutsuji. Now he has two Orisha. If the heart becomes a demon or even dies, no more Orisha can be reborn.”

“We will have war.”

“I will have blood.”

“Send Ogun. Send the plague amongst all of Japan.”

“Bring them to their knees.”

“They are not one of us.”

“Not one of us… Not one of us… not one of us!”

It had been a full seven days since Ayo and Femi were taken and the fact their energy could not be sensed in the world alerted all the Orisha.

Bambaataa made sure to be as far away from the Ubuyashiki manor as he remained standing in a field. The pink rift opened across from him and slowly a large figure began to march out. A man, much older than the earth Orisha approached. His head was clean shaven, and his beard was thick and full peppered with white hair. His eyes were black as the night and his black robes showed the power he held. Bambaataa just stared as the man approached him, then walked past him and stared at the sky for a moment. The rift remained open and now it was just the two of them.

The air was tense all around them and Bambaataa knew not to speak.

“So where are they?” he asked, lowly voice deep, drenched with authority. Bambaataa closed his eyes slowly unsure of how to exactly answer a question the larger Orisha already knew. He finally turned around with a glare.

“Where are my children!” he roared, his voice echoing across the land. Bambaataa looked in the direction of his father who approached him with a crazed look in his eyes.

“Utata-”

“DO NOT SPEAK!” he snarled as he began to turn and pace about, his eyes taking in every ounce of the land before him. His energy channels open. He could feel the presence of every human in Japan. “You are the oldest, you are MY first born, and you lose not just my young son, but my only daughter as well to a pathetic demon!”

Bambaataa scowled.

“Ayo sacrificed herself to get Femi back!” he argued. Ogun stood before him now, his large hand gripping his son’s chin hard causing him to let out the smallest sound of discomfort.

“That was not her choice to make! I don’t think you realize the position you have put me in, son, the position we are all in. You three were sent here to do a simple task, and now two Orisha are off somewhere held captive by demons, and I was sent here to clean up the mess you put yourself in.” he explained. Bambaataa could feel the grip in his father’s hand, and it was harsh enough that if he were a human his jaw would have broken easily.

“Let me fix this, Utata.” he said. Ogun laughed dryly.

“You cannot fix this. The demon who has my children has existed even when your mother and I were in chains. I know his power and I know the humans who fight against him are no match for him. Uncultured swine, all of them.” he spat letting Bambaataa go and turning from him. He took a few steps and looked around. “This land hasn’t changed, that much I know. I see you came here to meet me alone rather than allow me to speak with Kagaya Ubuyashiki in his territory.”

Bambaataa looked down with a slight wince.

“You think I would have held him responsible for all that has happened, killed him and then kill the pathetic insects he has called his children.” he said. Bambaataa was quiet knowing that his father did not want to hear a response. Ogun turned to him and nodded. “Well, you’re right. That’s exactly what I would have done. I would have torn his cursed skin off his body, then I would do the same for the rest of his blood line then that would have counted as penance for the position he too has put me in. Then I would kill all his pathetic Hashira as well for simply existing on this planet long enough to lay claim to my daughter!”

Bambaataa knew that conversation was coming. His father knew his sister was mated, and he knew he was not going to approve. He would never approve. Ogun shook his head holding up his fist.

“Japan has caused our family nothing but pain since our ancestors were brought here in chains. I will have retribution for this grave offense that has fallen upon our tribe.” he said holding up his hand and curling his fingers into a tight fist.

“Utata please… let me try and find Ayo and Femi and kill the demon known as Kibutsuji.” he said, his tone almost close to pleading. Ogun looked at his son for a moment before turning and placing his hands behind his back.

“I will give you six weeks to bring Ayo and Femi back. If you fail, I will bring a plague onto Japan that is so severe that the suffering will live on for as long as Japan is called such and the very first to be infected will be the Demon Slayer Corps. If Ubuyashiki is not dead from his curse by that time, then he will be the very first to feel the plague’s effects, then his Hashira, then the rest of the pathetic humans in the corps and slowly all of Japan will feel it. Then when the sun goes down, I will bring an even swifter punishment on the demons themselves. No one will know peace once I am finished with this land, and this pain will not stop until Femi and Ayo are presented. You have weakened yourself by showing too much mercy toward humans. I should hope you’ll come back to your senses before I have to come back here in six weeks to do what you couldn’t.” he said and without saying anything else he began to walk toward the pink rift.

Bambaataa winced letting his head fall as he felt his father’s aura disappear from the field as he disappeared. Ogun, the Orisha of disease and famine. His power grows from sickness and death, the very thing that plagued many slaves on the ships they were chained to. He need only to touch a living creature and their body decays. He was the opposite of his mother, the Orisha of love.

Ogun was always a strict man, and an even stricter father. He has been the cause of many plagues that have occurred throughout history because the black energy in death gave him such power. Bambaataa finally looked up at the sky.

“Ayo, I hope you know what you’re doing.” he said. The Orisha journeyed back to the Ubuyashiki manor and looked around at the place. He could feel his own anger rising. They should have never come here. They should have never come here. This war against the demons in Japan was not their business and they made it their business! And now look what’s happened!

It's their fault, it’s Ubuyashiki’s fault! He wanted to blame the man, the sick man who took up this crusade against demons! How easy it would be to walk in and just kill the man right now! But he knew that would set off a chain of events like no other. He’d be spending most of his time fighting and killing the Hashira and then that would push him further from his task at finding his little brother and sister.

“Bambaataa.”

The older Orisha looked to the side watching as Kyojuro and Tengen approached. The two looked seemingly calm, but Bambaataa could feel the pure tension radiating off of the flame Hashira. Ever since Ayo left, the positive energy around the bug-eyed man was gone, morphed into something dark.

“You have returned from your meeting with your tribesmen. Will they offer help?” Tengen asked. Bambaataa looked at the man, the feelings gone from his eyes.

“We have six weeks to find both Femi and Ayo or things will get significantly worse, and it will not only be Kibutsuji that you have to worry about.” he said before turning, leaving the two with looks of concern.

Kyojuro turned, crossing his arms and looking at the ground. He felt so helpless, and he couldn’t believe he let his love go off on such a dangerous mission.

“I shouldn’t have let her go.” He said. Tengen looked down at his friend.

“Don’t do that to yourself. Ayo was going to go after her brother no matter what any of us said or did. You know that.” he said. Kyojuro closed his eyes and just shook his head.

“I feel her… in here.” he said placing his hand over his chest. “It’s faint, but that warm feeling I always felt when she was here, is still there, like it’s still calling me- trying to guide me back to her.” he said. Kyojuro knew ever since the first time he looked upon Ayo’s face, the deep, sensual look in her eyes, had ensnared him. Ever since he held her body close to his, protecting her from the cold, a warm inside him was lit, it was not like anything he had ever felt before. But he knew that no matter how close or how far Ayo was, he felt that flame, that warmth. When she is close, his body is ignited, and when she is far, the flame dims just a bit, but it is still there.

When he fought Akaza and felt he was going to die, he felt that flame grow as if it were his soul telling him that she was coming. And now that flame is still there inside him, clawing at him as if it wanted to rip from his chest and guide him to where she was.

Tengen placed his hand firmly on the man’s shoulder a look of determination on his chest.

“Then use that feeling and let it guide you back into her arms! We will find her, and we will cut down any demon or upper moon who stands in our way!” he said with a flashy tone. Kyojuro looked at the man’s confident face and nodded.

“I will find her!” he said with confidence.

Ayo’s POV

I stood outside on the engawa, staring up at the dark skies and closing my eyes quietly.

I felt no wind, no life, nothing in this realm.

“Ayo, you finally came to me.” Muzan said with an amused smirk.

“Where is my brother?” I asked.

“Ayo!” I hear the scared voice of my brother. I turned to see Femi standing across from me, but he was held in place by a blonde-haired demon who smiled almost happily.

“Femi!” I called out as I tried to stand. However, I felt immense pressure over my body, and I felt the feeling leave my legs making me drop to my feet. I groaned at the pressure that I felt weighing down on my body. Muzan chuckled.

“There is no water in this realm. Your abilities are useless here.” he said wickedly. I growled looking at my brother and then at him.

“You said if I gave myself up, you’d let him go.” I said. Muzan chuckled even more.

“And you actually believed I would be true to my words?” he asked. I actually knew he wouldn’t. I would never trust a demon to be true to their words ever. “No, I think I will keep you both here. You both will play a key role in the events that are to come. Then it will only be a matter of time before your older brother joins us as well.”

“Bambaataa will never join you.” I snarled trying to fight the pulse in my legs so I could stand. Muzan smirked.

“Who knows, after having both his beloved his siblings here, it may be quite easy to convince your brother to reunite with his family. He is playing on a losing team; he must know that.” he said. I growled at his words. Muzan could see the pure rage in my eyes, and he smirked.

“Doma will be in charge of your brother until you both can behave. Until I know you can be trusted, this will be the last time either of you will see each other.” he said. The blonde demon chuckled.

“Oh, how exciting! Thank you, my lord. I will cherish this gift.” he said placing his hand on Femi’s head and I yelled in frustration.

“Let him go, do what you want with me, but let him go!” I snapped. Piercing red eyes were before me already as a hand gripped my face hard.

“Oh, I plan to do whatever I want with you Ayo. You will obey without question and if you don’t then I will rip your brother’s heart out of his chest and make you eat it.” he snarled. I glared at his words feeling my entire body tighten.

There truly is no water in this realm, and I would need to store all the water I could in order to keep up some of my senses. This castle was a maze, I noted, when I was allowed to move about it. There was no where I could go that Muzan did not see.

I made no moves at all. I let my hand slide up over my chest, over my heart and I felt it beating beneath my skin. I could feel Kyojuro still. I felt a cool sensation moving about me when thinking of him. I would not deny I was afraid, but I would do what needed to be done. I needed to get Femi, and I will save him.

“Nakime informs me that you haven’t been eating.” I hear the low purr of Muzan’s voice. He was close and I slowly let my head lull forward. “Is the food not to your liking? I have tasked the servants into getting specific foods imported from your country so that you would feel comfortable here.”

He sounded so genuine and that scared me, but the fact he truly did bring me fruits and meats from the Mother Continent, terrified me. Why would he go to such lengths?

“It is hard to have an appetite when your loved ones are in danger.” I said finally turning to face the demon. Muzan smirked.

“Young Femi is doing quite well in Doma’s care. I hear his cult has taken a liking to him. I hear the boy paints very well.” he said. Keep it together. Femi would never paint for a demon unless he were threatened with something causing harm to his loved ones. But they don’t know to combine blood with a painting. This could be harmless.

“I simply wish to see my brother, to hold him.” I said. Muzan tilted his head some watching me as if amused.

“And what will you offer in return for my generosity of seeing him?” he asked. I looked down some and gave a shrug.

“I will eat the food you bring me.” I said. Not that I would trust it. But I couldn’t weaken myself now while Femi is here and in danger. Muzan didn’t look very moved by my words.

“No, you will have to do better than that.” he said approaching me with a calm and collective stride. Yet his eyes watched me like a predator watching its prey. His body was calm, but those eyes were feral.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“You will share my bed and do your part in birthing a new demon for me.” he said.

[bellamyblake]

The world hurts less when I'm by your side

“Want to tell me where you got all this money to pay for this?”

“Got a loan.”

“I assume it was big enough to cover all of those expenses and your medications, right?” Bellamy nods “You got nothing left but your pension, do you? And you don’t get that again till next month.”

“Yes.”

“What will you do now?” Bellamy shrugs “Don’t tell me you plan on going back to that cold house and sleeping in it? How long has it been since you’ve been cut off.”

“Five days or so, but I’ve been sleeping at Clarke's for the past two.” 

“I’m guessing considering she’s not here now, that this won’t be possible at the moment?” he shakes his head and Deucette nods “Okay, then you’ll sleep in our shelter until you can go back home.” Bellamy blushes at that and keeps staring down.

It was exactly what he has been thinking of asking but didn’t really have the guts to. The church had a small shelter with just twenty rooms, providing food and medical help that mostly came from the sisters serving in it and the community.

It wasn’t like the other ones in town probably because it wasn’t as big and it took mostly woman with children or men like Bellamy. He has known of it before because he has ended up there as a kid with his mom before Octavia was born and then a few times after. When he joined the Army, he put aside some money as donation to help the church keep up with it and help others like him and his family. 

“I... “ he swallows hard and is about to say that he can’t do that-the memories of his childhood came flooding right in.

He was just three and a half, crying in his mom’s arms from hunger while she tried to soothe him by rubbing his back. She had been nursing him till he was almost three but then things got worse, his dad died, she lost her job and had no way of taking care of him, so they both ended up in a small room on the second floor huddled in with nothing but a bag of their belongings.

Just like now, the house was cut off from any electricity or water-it was impossible to live in it, so Aurora was forced to come here. It was vague but he remembered the Father stroking his head back then as he cried and whimpered in his mom’s arms. He wouldn’t stop till they gave him some food, warm milk too-he thinks he was sick back then as well, at least he remembers coughing as much and his mom wrapping him in blankets. He recalls that he fell asleep after she fed him and finally felt warm.

Then later when he was older, at about eight or nine with O just a baby, the same thing happened only now he had a much clearer memory of it. He was still as hungry and wanted to cry from it but he forced himself not to-he had his sister to take care of now, his mom to support in this hell. He was quiet, really quiet, in fact he can’t remember the last time he spoke out real words.

He wasn’t sure his mom noticed that he either shook his head or squeezed her hand, she had been too preoccupied worrying about nursing a baby, finding shelter and gettng a new job. It was the same father then who noticed Bellamy wasn’t talking. He had found him reading the children’s version of the Bible in one of the pews, nose buried in the pages when he had sat by his side and rubbed his back soothingly. 

“You okay, son?” he had asked him then and Bellamy nodded but it probably didn’t come out as too convincing. “Did you get the chance to sleep? Eat some?” Bellamy shrugged, again without offering a clear answer. “Must be hard falling with a little baby there, huh?” Bellamy shook his head then. 

The priest had raised an eyebrow then, realizing that something’s not right with the boy but not having a true way of knowing what it was.

“Can you show me what passage you’re reading?” he asked next and Bellamy pointed up at the top of the left page “Ah, Jacob and his brothers, I like this one. Would you read it to me?”

Bellamy shook his head and kept looking down at his Bible. The priest, an elderly but very kind man with ginger hair and beard, reached out and touched his shoulder. Bellamy had jumped at the movement and bit his lip, cradling it away from the man and closer to his stomach.

“Do you hurt, son?” he had asked and Bellamy shook his head but it was clear he was in pain. They all knew the real reason why his mom ended up back here wasn’t only because of the lack of money but because the man she was living with, Octavia’s father, had abused her before he finally took off, so he wouldn’t be caught by the local police.

He had hit Bellamy too. Aurora didn’t always know about it. It was in the rare moments at night when he came into their room and would pester Bellamy and his baby sister, asking him why he can’t keep the baby quiet and tossing him around. His mom was usually at work or passed out in the bedroom. It was up to him to feed O her bottle and keep her safe and quiet.

Sometimes, though, no matter what he did, she still cried. That’s when he appeared. 

Other times Aurora was away again but he was home and he’d ask for a beer. Bellamy would bring it over and try to leave as fast as he could but the guy would start torturing him, kick him around, search his pockets for money all while smoking or sniffling something white from his hand. 

Last time he hurt him was just a few days before he left. Octavia was crying in her crib. She was teething and Bellamy knew she needed medicine to help bring her fever down but they had none, so he wet a cloth and put it in her mouth, trying to soothe her gums or offered his own fingers to chew on. He had come in during one of her raging fits and beat Bellamy up.

He felt worse since then but he had no way of telling his mom. He never would. 

Full chapter can be found HERE!

[black-grulla]

°°••| the last goodbye |••°°

A One Shot (very short) by Black Grulla.

I would return, after all the disaster of the war in the headquarters. Although at first, I wouldn't have any ingrained feelings about the whole situation; until that moment. The sadness I felt was deep, I never thought it would "touch my soul." It was night. Kuraigana looked magnificent, compared to other times, it's like if she wanted to accompany the sad news that i was carrying on my back. I walked along the shore. Mihawk and i went on different directions, who was going straight to the castle. I walked and walked, feeling the pocket of my black coat; inside, I would have a memory. I arrived at my ship, where my companion in good faith was there; Kian. I could feel his presence, I could feel him lying asleep on the deck, so I jumped gently. Making noise wasn't necessary to wake him up; my smell was enough.

-Miss captain! -he expressed with joy. It was like a pet, awaiting for its owner to finally come; It was so sad-

I'm so glad to see you, Miss!Tell me, what happened ? They managed to save him, right? I heard that White Beard was the strongest man in the world…surely they did it! Right?

I didn't respond, and I would assume that at least with that he would realize it on his own, but he continued speaking with energy, ending each sentence with a "right?"; It was so sad to break an illusion. I wanted him to enjoy his last moment of happiness before the caustics news. When two minutes passed without me responding to his questions, I lowered myself to his stature, and put my hand in my right pocket. Kian just looked at me with sparkles in his eyes, like a little boy; Now he wasn't smiling, but it seemed like he was.

-Kian… -I responded with a melancholic voice, but still serious and calm.-… -I gave a heavy and noticeable sigh, my heart accelerated a little, wanting to hurt itself.- they managed to save him. ..but

-But…- Kian asked, beginning to understand little by little, gradually entering in a state of shock, with a now notable fear in his eyes.-

-…Ace, died. - it's all over bar the shouting. I let him go and now it was time to explain what happened. I could see how Kian's pupils dilated like two dots in white pools. - no one could do anything… he died protecting his younger brother, Monkey D Luffy, from an attack by one of the admirals… Akainu . -that name bounced in his mind and his brow furrowed little by little; Still no tears. But he soon loosened when I grabbed his shoulder with my free hand, now with a slightly more trembling voice.- I'm so sorry… from my aforementioned pocket, I took out a red pearl necklace; it was from Ace. When the necklace burst due to the attack of the aforementioned marine, I collected all the beads I could and put it back together again. I put the necklace in his hands; now, he looked at it with shock and that's when the tears started. He began to cry, first silently, and then with the strength left in his heart, not believing that he….was actually gone; forever. I hugged him again.

-I'm really sorry, honestly….

I started crying too. Tears ran through the eyes of my silver mask, while the moon shone behind me.

[agentrouka-blog]

I actually find it sweet that Alayne and Myranda didn't made fun of Wallace stutter. Alayne even helped him. Also during the feast he tried to make Alayne laugh like his nephew but failed to do. Alayne then leads the conversation to balance the situation. In this case a maiden helping and rescuing a knight. I could picture a scenario where Jon is dancing with Sansa but feeling awkward while Sansa tried to ease the tension.

Yes, I really like the interaction between them, and what it likely leads up to. Sansa isn't particularly impressed with him, but she is very much trying to take the pressure off for him.

Ser Wallace reddened. "I am no more a s-squire, my lady. My n-nephew knows full well that I was k-k-kni-k-k-kni—" "Dubbed?" Alayne suggested gently. "Dubbed," said Wallace Waynwood, gratefully. Robb would be his age, if he were still alive, she could not help but think, but Robb died a king, and this is just a boy. (...) After that Ser Roland Waynwood swept her up and made her laugh with mocking comments about half the other knights in the hall. His uncle Wallace took a turn as well and tried to do the same, but the words would not come. Alayne finally took pity on him and began to chatter happily, to spare him the embarrassment. When the dance was done she excused herself, and went back to her place to have a drink of wine. (TWOW, Alayne I)

Sansa, who cares a lot for social graces, tends to be a bit judgy when it comes to others lacking the talent for them:

Podrick Payne had changed as well, and looked almost a proper squire for once, although a rather large red pimple in the fold beside his nose spoiled the effect of his splendid purple, white, and gold raiment. He is such a timid boy. Sansa had been wary of Tyrion's squire at first; he was a Payne, cousin to Ser Ilyn Payne who had taken her father's head off. However, she'd soon come to realize that Pod was as frightened of her as she was of his cousin. Whenever she spoke to him, he turned the most alarming shade of red.

"Are purple, gold, and white the colors of House Payne, Podrick?" she asked him politely. (ASOS, Sansa IV)

She is unfailingly polite in those cases and tries to ease the flow of the social interaction.

But Sansa does have a bit of a wicked streak that goes back to her friendship with Jeyne and continues with Margaery and later Myranda, when it comes to making fun of others. (Arya certainly remembers her own unkind nickname, which Sansa may not have used but certainly tolerated.)

 Arya had seen them in the bailey a hundred times; the Redwyne twins, Ser Horas and Ser Hobber, homely youths with orange hair and square, freckled faces. Sansa and Jeyne Poole used to call them Ser Horror and Ser Slobber, and giggle whenever they caught sight of them. They did not look funny now. (AGOT, Arya V)

She even does it herself at Harry:

"Saffron?" Alayne tried not to laugh. "Truly?"

Ser Harrold had the grace to blush. "Her father says she is more precious to him than gold. He's rich, the richest man in Gulltown. A fortune in spices."

"What will you name the babe?" she asked. "Cinnamon if she's a girl? Cloves if he's a boy?"

That almost made him stumble. "My lady japes." (...)

"Little pointy beard and all?" Alayne laughed. (...) "I hope you joust better than you talk." For a moment he looked shocked. But as the song was ending, he burst into a laugh. "No one told me you were clever."

Sansa's is not above transcending the rules of courtesy but her own mockery is usually aimed at people at or above her own status. We never see her mock or laugh at someone below her station. She never laughs at Wallace even when Roland mocks him, because his "flaw" is fully outside his own control. Harry, though, is fair game because he's The Heir and behaved rudely toward her.

Wallace seems like the kind of guy who - like Podrick Payne - she is still prone to underestimating because they don't create an impressive image at first glance. She pities Podrick, but Brienne gets to see his ingenuity and bravery. Sansa is kind to Wallace but she is likely to come to admire him and learn to look closer beyond just offering a smooth path past a superficial weakness. I think Wallace will do something impressive, like @powderpowderblue has speculated!

Here's hoping that Sansa will take that insight into the future and step up a bit more to curb instances of mean-spirited mockery when she has the power to do it.

Though if she and Jon stumble over an especially mockable enemy together, all bets are likely off.

~~~

Your image of Jon on the dance floor is making me laugh!

Sansa: Awww, Jon is being awkward and sullen, I bet he hates dancing. Let me make some light conversation to ease his nerves!

Jon:

"Oh," said Sansa Jon. I am talking to him her, and he's she's touching me, he's she's holding my arm and touching me. (ASOS, Sansa I TWOW, The Awkward Bastard)

Sansa: Poor little lamby, he really can't wait for this social situation to end. I'll do the talking for both of us to spare him this torment.

[tia-amorosa]

Sunset Died - Wainwright/Sword/Hatch

Return Home - part 1

Later in the day. After Morgana had rested for a few hours, she returned to her workplace. There, Blair and Cy were ready to leave the clinic, Boyd leading his daughter out of the tent by the hand. "Cy? I have to thank you for taking such good care of our daughter. "/ "not for that, it's a matter of course for me"/ "I've noticed that". Boyd smiled at him. "I take it we can't go back to our old house?"/ "No, but there's a new one for you, Emma's already waiting for you two there…".

Susan is somewhat skeptical about the situation. She had the feeling that she was losing her daughter again. "But… you can come with us, Blair." Blair paused for a moment. She could hear in her voice that she was worried. "Mom, don't be mad at me, please… I'd like to stay with Cy. Don't worry, I'll be fine. But you can visit me any time, alright? ". Susan saw Cyclone took her hand lovingly. "well…if that's what you want, all right."/ "I'll have my bandages taken off in a few days, if you like, you can be there then"/ "yes, yes, please".

After Blair said goodbye to her mother with a hug, Morgana turned to her again. "The house where you'll be staying is actually quite 'blind-friendly', you'll find your way around quickly, and you're not alone"/ "mhm, thanks, Morgana. I'll come by in a few days, alright? "/ "O.K. Of course, I'm also very keen to see if everything has healed well". Blair just smiled and nodded slightly. Then they made their way to the new home together.

Cyclone walked with Blair at a slow pace towards the house Morgana had told them about. But he immediately recognized a source of danger outside. If Blair ever went outside, she wouldn't have a railing to hold on to. But she wouldn't be going anywhere alone at the moment anyway. "Hey, you two, welcome to our new home."

It was the first real home for the three of them in a long time. Sure, living in an old farmhouse has its own charm, but staying there permanently was not in their interests. They were desperate to get back home. "It smells good here, so fresh and a bit like wood. wait, do we have a fireplace?"/ "A small one, yes. We won't freeze here anyway.

Blair searched for her boyfriend again with her hands. "I'm so happy, Cy," then she felt his face. … Your beard… I've only felt you with it, but not seen you… I've been walking around in the dark for months". He smiled, which she could almost feel. "Soon no more…"/ "How are you doing, Cy? What did Morgana say?"/ "I have to take antibiotics now, so I should be better soon. And I suppose we've been given some clothes to wear?"/"Yes, a bit in each bedroom, I've already looked"/"OK, I'll go and change then.“.

A short cough. "What's where here now?" asked Cy. "Well, first of all, you need to know there's only one bathroom for all of us. But I think that's o.k. …. You can choose which bedroom you want. I like the one on the left, it's simple… The one on the right might be something for you two, more cozy in any case"/ "and here?" he pointed to the right door. "A guest room, or maybe a children's room later on"/ "ah…*cough*, o.k….".

Later. Emma helped Blair to put on something else. She literally had to rely blindly on what her friend put on her body. And She assured her that she looked good. Then Blair started to find her way around the house. She stopped at the bookshelf and ran her fingers along the spines of the books. Some of them had a slightly raised texture so that she could read the letters with her fingers and memorize the different titles she would like to read later.

She moved slowly through the room. Always feeling her way with her hands. But sometimes she would bump into something with one foot first. "Oh, what... Oh, a chair... Probably at a dining table". She leaned forward a little to search for a surface with her hand. She smiled when she realized that there really was a table there "Emma must be looking forward to cooking something".

Blair realized that the room she was in was quite large. She passed the sofa, the warm fireplace, … "What's this? Big…." She ran her hands along the edges of the object, once around and noticed the buttons at the bottom. "A… television? We have a television? Does it work?". She excitedly tried the buttons until it came on.

While Blair tried to listen to something on the television, Emma looked around outside the house. To her surprise, there were a few garden plants. "I wonder if they planted them specially? I don't think so. I've seen a few edible plants everywhere. They must have spread everywhere… It's just too bad, it'll soon be winter. Let's see if we can still get some. I can preserve the things, then we'll have a little stock".

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

End of this Part

@greenplumbboblover 😶😊

[reineboots]

a dream i woke up crying from :)

The dream began with my death. I was hit by a car and instantly became a ghost. I didn’t realize at first; it took a while to catch on that no one was reacting to my presence. Eventually I realized in a place kind of like a public bathroom. I think I might have entered a stall when someone was showering, and they didn’t react. Funny in retrospect, but absolutely horrifying at the time because it confirmed my worst suspicions. I was indeed dead.

At this point I didn’t even do anything, I just broke down and started sobbing as the realization of it all washed over me, and I realized that I’d never see my husband again. 

Then, I felt an odd tugging sensation in my stomach. Time has always been a bit of a fluid medium for ghosts, and I was about to discover this first-hand. I blinked, and suddenly found myself seated next to my husband Pete on the couch of our apartment— with him to my left, and his sister Irene with long, dark hair to my right, on her phone. Stunned, I reached out to touch his arm. He was warm and solid. He glanced over at me and smiled. Even now, awake, I can visualize him so well. Like me, he seemed to be in his early thirties, and was a natural redhead, but with eyebrows dark like his eyes, which were a rich brown. He wore a fairly thick beard, too, which was neatly groomed into a rounded shape. His eyes crinkled upwards at the corners when he smiled— the very beginnings of the wrinkles he would wear in old age. When he grinned at me then, I had to fight with everything in me not to burst into tears at the thought of him growing old without me. Already, my time left with him was rapidly running out. I could feel it.

I shot a nervous look down at my phone— the date and time were from today, minutes before I died. The first time around, I had already left the house by now. Something was going on here. 

I scooted up next to Peter and laid my head on his shoulder. He wrapped a warm, comforting arm around me. “What’s up? You call out of work?” 

“Yeah,” I said, swallowing. “Guess I wasn’t feeling well.” I guessed I had teleported here to the moments soon after I stepped out of the apartment the first time around. 

“Aw, I’m sorry.” His arm tightened in a half-hug. “Want me to get you anything?” 

“No, that’s alright.” How much time did I have left with him? A minute? Two?

He started talking about an ad he saw for Universal, and how he went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter as a kid and would love to go again sometime. “I always wanted to go to Universal,” I said. “But it was always too expensive… now I’ll never get to.” Despair crawled into my voice, and I shut my mouth, trying to focus on the warmth of Peter next to me. He leaned back to give me a puzzled grin. “We can still go. We just need to start saving, that’s all. It might take a little while, but that’s fine.”

The seconds were trickling down to nothing. I clung to him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. Suddenly, his body shifted— his phone was going off. My stomach sinking, I leaned away from him to give him space to take the call. 

He turned away from me as he raised the phone to his ear. A few moments later the life drained from his face. He swallowed, blinked, and hung up the phone, cutting off the voice of the somber woman on the other side.

Why was I still here? I should’ve been yanked back to my present time. Could he still see me? “Pete?” I whispered, hope rising in me. 

He slowly looked down at where I had been sitting, and I’ll never forget the expression of heartrending confusion on his face. His sister, on the other side of the couch, had caught enough of the call to be just as alarmed. When she raised her eyes from her phone she turned white as a sheet. Their eyes met across the couch, looking straight past me. Peter’s jaw worked for a moment as he tried to speak. 

“Did you hear her come back in? After she left for work?” He asked hoarsely. We had a security system that would announce whenever the front door opened. Irene slowly shook her head. “I didn’t either,” Pete said. 

It felt like my heart was ripping itself to shreds. I pulled myself against him again, praying for him to wrap his arm around me one last time. But he didn’t. He felt as warm and real as ever, but he didn’t react to me at all. Instead, he looked off in the distance for a moment. I saw his eyes glaze with tears, and they darted around a few times before settling back to look at me. Or rather, look through me. Because to him, I had vanished. He was staring at the spot where I had been. He was looking for me, right into my eyes, but he couldn’t find me.

It felt like the entire world was falling apart around me. I finally let the tears come, and buried my head against his shoulder. He didn’t react. I clung to him harder, as if I could bring myself back to life out of sheer force of will. Wet, keening sobs escaped my lips. He still didn’t react.

Desperation rose in my chest. I was going to be yanked back to my own time any second now. I didn’t want to go. I wanted to be here with him forever. I sobbed even harder. And it was then that I felt a massive shift within me, and Peter and our living room disappeared. I had woken up.

I was 19, and alone in my bed.

[the-story-forge]

⚠️Warning this story has extreme graphic adult content, viewer discretion is advised! ⚠

Chapter 6 - Firewood

Titan spent the rest of that day helping Dan chop wood and tend to the grounds, Lena spent it locked in her room saying she was making something important.

Dan Moore was an interesting figure to Titan. He was warm and welcoming like his daughter but also had a sense of wisdom Titan admired.

"I see the way she looks at you," Dan had said to him while they chopped wood.

"How does she look at me?" Titan asked.

"A look of love Titan," he handed him a log and Titan easily broke it with the axe.

"Youhave a wonderful daughter Mr. Moore," Titan did admit.

"Call me Dan and yes she is amazing," Dan smiled.

"Do you feel the same?" Dan asked.

"What?"

"I mean do you feel love for her?" Dan shrugged.

"I am not sure," Titan thought about the burning in his chest and thought he might.

Dan nodded and pout his hands on hips looking up at the cabin.

"When she was five her mother died, her older brother was upset he left me alone to raise her, I did the best that I could, but Lena was always so... so-

"Self-righteous," Titan finished.

"Yes thank you," Dan stroked his beard.

"if you love her Titan don't put her in danger, no matter what your past is out there just keep her safe." Dan put his hand on his shoulder and Titan nodded.

"Titan!" Lena called from up at the cabin, and Titan made his way up to her.

"I made you something," Lena took his hand leading him into her room. On her bed was a black and blue suit, it had a long black cape in the back.

"What do you think?" Lena asked, holding it up.

"I feel like I've seen it before,"

Lena frowned.

"Don't you like it?"

Titan turned.

"Yes of course!" Titan smiled.

Lena sighed and threw it on the floor.

"I thought it might look good I just got excited I guess," Lena sat down on her bed.

Titan's burning came back and he realized what it was at that moment. He lifted her head up and brought it closer to him, looking her in the eyes. She didn't fight it and let him pull her closer.

Their lips met and he felt the fire reach his whole body, tingling through his skin. Lena let go and felt his forehead.

"You're burning up!" She giggled.

"Hopefully that's good?" He suggested smiling.

"Who knows?" She pulled him on top of her kissing him some more.

After a while they laid with each other looking at the ceiling.

"Lena?" Titan asked.

"Hmm?"

"Where do you think I came from?"

Lena took a moment and considered her answer.

"Well if your world is full of others like you, it must be beautiful, beings strong enough to hold stars in their hands and capable of loving and feeling."

Titan sighed.

"What?" Lena tried to squeeze out the truth and it worked.

"What if I'm bad?" He finally said.

Lena sat up and looked at him.

"Then think of this as an opportunity for you to start over and become someone good of heart." She put on her jacket.

"That is if that's who you want to be," she winked and made for the door.

"I'm going for a walk, I'll be back later."

Titan moved to say something else but it got caught in his throat and the door shut before he could answer.

He flopped onto the bed and sighed.

Who was he? Where did he come from? So many confusing questions.

He looked over at the floor, at the crumpled up suit. Wouldn't hurt to at least try it on he guessed and sat up.

Written by Phoenix Rose

Characters and Story Created by Phoenix Rose

A Story Forge Production

[dogmomwrites]

Find the Words!

This tag came from @eccaiia, so thank you for including me in this game!

I'm passing it along with soft tags to @sender-paulson, @eli-writes-sometimes, and @pandawriterstuff, as well as leaving an open tag! Your words will be suspect, torrents, and farther. If you can't find one, leave a fun fact about your WIP, OCs, or writing process!

My words were ground, air, water, nature, and life. These excerpts were taken from the third and fourth books in my fantasy series.

Ground (Castle 3)

Lukalt made a noise at that, although whether it was a wishful sigh or a seasick groan, no one could tell. “Solid ground would be nice.” He was pale and the sleepless nights had left him visibly exhausted. Shadows colored under his eyes. He’d worn his shirt backwards for hours one day. It would have been a full day if Blue hadn’t caved and told him about it.

“If you’re done tossing yourselves over the side,” Mayne said, “maybe we can see about getting a little more speed.” He was a short man with a rather unkempt beard that gave him the look of a wild man.

“You weren’t concerned about speed earlier,” Blue said.

“You just want to make it sound like we interrupted you. Everyone knows you weren’t doing anything,” Ryder added.

“A pirate is always busy,” Mayne said. “Not doing anything is very time consuming. You never know when you’re done doing nothing.”

Air (Castle 3)

Slowly, he moved to the bed and let himself fall down on it, collapsing. His chest felt like a hand squeezed the air from him and he struggled to breathe. His eyes burned, and when he closed them, something dripped down his cheek. He swatted at it reflexively, but didn’t see any blood on his fingers. Looking closer, he saw a small bit of water oozing down between his fingers. His vision blurred, and he blinked. More tears fell.

The realization made him hiss in surprise. Tears. He was aghast. Tears dripped down his cheeks, and he was helpless to stop them. Just as he was helpless to stop the sorcerer from taking Jay.

Water (Castle 3)

Lukalt soon learned that he hated sailing. The ship rocked back and forth without end, and he found himself leaning against the rail. Every motion of the sea, every sway and jolt, caused his stomach to lurch. He stared down at the water that slapped against the side of the ship.

“Are you okay?”

Startled, he jumped at the unexpected voice. Blue was standing beside him. “What?” His throat felt tight, and he coughed to clear it. “What?” he tried again.

Blue couldn’t quite hide his grin. “You look terrible.”

That was precisely how he felt. He let out a groan. “Thanks.”

Nature (Castle 4)

“We aren’t here to hurt you!” Arial said.

“That’s all your kind do,” Risskora snarled. Her lips drew back to reveal her fangs, each as long and as lethal as the blade of a sword.

“You may not intend us harm, human child, but your people can’t help themselves. Such fear and hate is in their nature.” The old dragon’s voice had taken on an edge of sadness, as though the conversation had reminded him of the past days. He turned his head away, a signal to the others that he was no longer interested in the humans.

The two females crouched, preparing to leap over the river. The male straightened up and spread his wings out. His jaws opened up as he took a deep breath.

Life (Castle 4)

Lowering his voice, Saben asked, “You are serious?”

Aero met his eyes. “I am tired of fear, brother. Fear ruled Hollenworth, all of Cayua—fear ruled the entire forsaken kingdom we were born in. I have seen how life can be without fear ruling over my actions and that is a life I would choose. If I must become reckless to overcome my fear, then so be it.” He held his brother’s gaze a moment longer before moving to join the others.

“Just do not become dead to overcome your fears, little brother,” Saben said in a dry tone. He pulled up a smile when Aero looked back at him. “You have died once already and I do not wish to endure that a second time.”

[merlinisnotover]

"What happened to me?"

Whumptober Day 29 tw: referenced death, grief

Leon didn’t precisely know how it had happened — he was a man of fighting and diplomacy, not magic — but it was something to do with that cup ages ago. 

As the queen and court had grown old, Leon had not. 

Trees had matured, children had grown, but Leon had stayed the same. 

So had Merlin. 

Well, at least the last anyone had seen him. 

He’d stayed in Camelot for a few years after Camlann, helping to set Gwen up as queen, helping to repeal the magic ban and instil new laws in the land, but he had been a shell of his former self, even when Gwen had offered him the title of Court Sorcerer. 

Only half a year in, he had renounced the new title and disappeared into the night. 

That had been decades ago. 

Now, Gwen’s son was on the throne with several children of his own, and Leon was tired. He looked young, but he had outlived all of his friends and family and felt the stares of the court on his back. Sorcery was no longer illegal, not even suspicious anymore, but Leon was a knight of King Arthur’s round table and yet he looked as young as the king had been when he’d died, two generations ago. 

Perhaps it was time for him to leave as Merlin had. 

It took him months to find Merlin, following rumours of his whereabouts from old men and children, eventually locating him in a cave in the northern mountains. 

“Hello?” Merlin croaked. His voice was hoarse and Leon wondered how long it had been since he had spoken last.

Leon gaped at his old friend for a long moment, taking in his appearance. He looked young, even younger than when Leon had seen him last. In fact, he looked no older than when he had first come to Camelot all those years ago. 

“Merlin?” 

Merlin nodded vaguely. “What can I do for you?”

Leon blinked. “I came to find you.”

“You found me!” he smiled with a boyish smile. “Not what you expected?”

Leon frowned and shook his head. “You’re so young.”

“Do you prefer an old wizened sorcerer? I can do that.” He snapped his fingers and a long white beard sprouted from his chin. 

“Merlin, what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just… you just left. No one has seen you for ages. What happened to you?”

“What happened to me?” Merlin asked in return, not seeming to understand. “Oh, you’re from Camelot?”

Suddenly, Leon realized that the odd look in Merlin’s eyes was lack of recognition. He had the look of a man so drenched in alcohol he didn’t know his own name. 

“You don’t remember me,” he said. “I’m Sir Leon. We were — we were friends.”

Merlin furrowed his brow and studied Leon’s face. “All of my friends are dead.”

“Not me,” Leon said. “You and I are the same, I think. Well, sort of. I can’t do —” he waved his hand vaguely to indicate Merlin’s magical aging — “that. But I don’t age properly either.”

Merlin continued frowning. “That’s not possible.”

Leon shrugged. “You really don’t remember?”

“Is this a dream?”

Leon shook his head. 

“You sure I can’t do anything for you? Love potion? Heal a relative?”

Leon shook his head again. “All my friends are dead as well, unfortunately. Mind if I stay here with you for a while?”

“Not at all,” Merlin said, his eyes returning to their usual sparkle beneath his white eyebrows. “Come in, come in.”

Leon followed his friend — yes, friend, because even if Merlin didn’t remember him, he clearly needed a friend —  inside the cave. 

Perhaps Leon could help him remember, if Merlin wanted. 

Or perhaps they could just be alone together. That would be alright, too.

[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?���

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[misslydian]

Chapters: 1/?

Rating: Gen

Fandom: One Piece

Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, Sabo

Relationship: Monkey D. Luffy & Sabo, ASL Brothers

Word count (ch 1): 567

Summary: He smiled warmly, his own eyes now pricking with tears, “It’s good to see you again, Luffy.” (Rewrite of the scene in chapter 794 when Sabo and Luffy meet again.)

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Day 1: Kisses

“I won’t let you have the Flame Flame Fruit, Straw Hat Luffy.”

A young man in a gladiator helmet and obviously-fake beard turned to the new voice. He glared at the tall, blond stranger who had just appeared from the shadows of the long hallway.

“Luffy, it’s me,” the stranger said as if his identity should’ve been obvious.

“Huh? What do you mean ‘it’s me’?!” Luffy glared,  “Listen, if you want the Flame Flame Fruit then that makes you my enemy! And I don’t know why you’re calling me ‘Luffy’! Look at this beard, my name is Lucy!”

The stranger scoffed, but had amusement in his tone, “As if I wouldn’t recognize my own brother in disguise.”

“‘Brother?!’ Hey! The only people who can call me brother are Ace and one other person,” Luffy growled, “though he died a long time ago so… “ Luffy’s words trailed off as he took an unsure step back. His brown eyes, fixed on the mystery man, slowly widened and filled tears as realization dawned on him.

“You—you’re—” Luffy choked out, tears now dripping down his cheeks. “SABO!” he cried.

“The very same who once stole Dadan’s booze so we could share cups,” Sabo winked. He smiled warmly, his own eyes now pricking with tears, “It’s good to see you again, Luffy.”

He had just barely begun to spread his arms when Luffy flung himself onto Sabo, the boy now full-on sobbing. Luffy wrapped himself so tightly around Sabo he could barely breathe, but right now he just couldn’t care. He brought his arms around his brother and clung back just as strong.

Sabo sunk until his knees hit the floor and Luffy slid down as well, both sobbing into the other’s shoulder.

Luffy’s arms now wrapped around Sabo’s torso, his face tucked into the crook of Sabo’s arm. Sabo adjusted one arm around Luffy’s shoulder and curled the other around his head, and he clutched his little brother close to him.

“Luffy,” Sabo began, “thank you for being alive.” Luffy’s cries picked up again at that. “Thank you so much. For surviving. For still being here with me.” Sabo choked on his words as he tried to hold back the sobs threatening to burst out. “And I’m sorry! ” he cried, “I’m so sorry! I should’ve been there for you and Ace. I think I've failed at being a brother.”

Luffy pulled away, a fierceness in his eyes as he looked at Sabo. “No! No, don’t ever think like that! No one’s mad at you—I’m not mad at you—for not being there, Sabo, there wasn’t anything you could’ve done. If anything… if anything I should have done better because I was right there! And I—” his lips wobbled and tears started spilling out again, “I’m just glad you’re not dead too, Sabo!” Pain erupted in Sabo’s chest as he gazed at Luffy. “I thought I was alone.”

Shaken by the compassion Sabo was sure his brother wouldn’t have for him, Sabo hesitated for the briefest moment before reaching over to pull Luffy close to him again.

“Hey, it’s not your fault either, Luffy,” Sabo said softly. He pressed his own trembling lips together in an effort to collect himself.  

Sabo tucked Luffy into his chest. Closing his eyes, he placed a kiss on his little brother’s head. “I’m glad we’re both here too,” he whispered in Luffy’s hair, “Together.”

[angry-geese]

Nanami Kento x Reader

Warnings: sfw. pregnancy mention, death mention, minor injury mention. mild angst. jjk manga spoilers/shibuya arc spoilers

Summary: some pregnancy fluff with nanami

Word Count: 2.2k

jjk masterlist

Greys dot at his temples, and the sides of his beard. There's a permanent line between his eyebrows from scowling. Nanami always kept his face shaved in the past. Nowadays he hardly bothers shaving. You like it when he has a little bit of scruff, and he's often too tired to shave. His cheeks are far more gaunt. He lost a considerable amount of weight he never really gained back. You’ve been trying to get him to eat more. And it's working, but recovery isn't a short process. It was a long road that sometimes it feels like you take one step forward, only to take ten back.

He finds himself questioning if he'd rather wear a glass eye, or an eyepatch.

Nanami hardly sees the point in either. So the answer is neither. He rarely leaves his house, save for the rare times you drag him along to the grocery store, or down the street to the bakery. Even then, he wears his hat low on his head, keeping his eyes on the ground in a feeble attempt to make himself as small as possible.

Shibuya left scars on everyone who had the misfortune of being there, ones that never quite healed right. You were the same person; torn apart and put back together wrong. Age has not been kind to you, your wounds taking longer to heal, an ever-present ache in your bones. Past injuries have never quite healed, only laying dormant, waiting for the weather to sour so they can ache. He guesses he can consider himself lucky. He's alive. That's more than a lot of people can say.

But sometimes he thinks the real lucky ones were those who didn't survive.

Sometimes he thinks he's dead. In the twilight between sleep and his waking moments, he wonders if he actually made it. He wonders if he really survived, or if this is just some last ditch attempt by his brain to make sense of things.

He doesn't understand why you stay. He finds himself wondering why he bothers. Most days he doesn't see a point in continuing. But he doesn't want to leave you alone, reaching out to the empty space where he used to be.

For a long time he struggled to find purpose to all this. He wanted a reason, or at the very least answers. But he never would get them. It's unfair to say there’s an order to the universe. There's no reason why things happen the way they happen, they just do.

In the end he came to terms with it.

He remembers the glint in your eyes. A mischievous look- you were always trying to cause trouble. It's never really left. You were younger than him. Not by much. Two years. You were adamant he recommended you to become a grade one sorcerer. For months you pestered him, hounding him for that recommendation. As a Jujutsu High first-year, you looked up to him. When you got into trouble, you found yourself asking 'what would Nanami do?' And as time went on, you still did.

After months of pestering he eventually caved. You're nothing if not persistent. It was a little alarming at the time, and equally as irritating. But when you were finally a grade one sorcerer, he was there alongside you to celebrate.

At first glance, you two were far from compatible. The two of you couldn't be any more different. He was stoic and stern, and you were a known troublemaker. Your cursed technique worked well with his, and as a result, you went on many jobs together. As time went on you grew close.

And after years of working together, he finally realized he wanted more.

To everyone around you, your feelings were obvious. The two of you were hopeless. Between your stubbornness, and Nanami’s refusal to believe Gojo, neither of you wanted to be the first to confess. It was up to Gojo to help. Neither of you asked for his help, he took it upon himself. Little did he know, Nanami had a confession planned.

Nanami never got to have a proper confession. Gojo would spoil the surprise. Nanami was pissed, but your reaction was worth it. He doesn't think he’s ever seen you that happy.

Slowly things got better. Your more visible wounds healed and scarred. You went back to work. Nanami settled into domestic life better than he thought he would.

The transition wasn't the easiest. Settling down was far from an instantaneous change. He took on work around the house. For a short time you kept a ‘normal’ job. Even when you were younger, such work never suited you. Between the money you had saved up from your years as a sorcerer, and the money you got from odd jobs, you had enough to live comfortably. There was no need to work.

Slowly he started to look forward to getting up in the morning. Having a routine helped. It gave him a sense of normalcy.

He often finds himself unable to sleep. Nanami falls asleep late in the afternoon, and sleeps until either his phone, or a nightmare rouses him.

Today it's neither. He was a light sleeper before. Now even more-so. When he’s next to you, sleep comes to him easier. His arms find the swell of your belly, wrapping around it protectively. Your presence is a reminder that you’re still around, that you're not going anywhere. His shoulder aches. He finds sleep impossible. He’s too sore to move, but too sore to sleep. Even before everything, he found it easy to sleep on his couch, and hard to sleep in bed. You’d constantly pester him that sleeping on the couch wasn't good for his back. But that wouldn't stop you from staying there until you both inevitably fell asleep, and he carried you to bed.

It took you years to convince him to have one. He wanted to settle down and have children, but he couldn't be both a sorcerer and a parent. And neither could you. Shibuya only set things back. The world had to heal first. Things had to get better. The two of you had to heal before others could rely on you.

You weren't actively trying, but if it happened, it happened.

You've long since fallen asleep in the crook of his neck. He hardly left bed all day. Things were getting bad again. Sometimes months would go by where it seemed things were improving, only for them to take a nosedive. He’s still getting better, but recovery isn't a linear process. You didn't have anywhere to go that day, so you stayed right by his side. You took it upon yourself to make him feel better. Or at least bother him until he got out of bed. Much of your morning was spent watching movies on your phone, and stealing blankets from each other.

Retirement was nice. Granted, you retired rather young, but if the rest of your life was spent with him, you’d be content. He’s still the same man you fell in love with all those years ago. Aside from the occasional, safe-ish odd job, you were done with sorcery. Those days were past you.

He’s grown tired of staying still. Sometimes moving helps the aches. He never was the earliest riser before, but now he can hardly stay in bed past seven. Everything hurts. No matter when he goes to sleep, he’s usually up by 7:30, and you can count on him making coffee in the kitchen.

It's hardly past nine. The sun has completely set over the horizon. Stiffness has set into his limbs. He takes great care to not disturb your sleeping form, tucking the blankets back around you.

You nuzzle into the warm spot where he once was, a frown burned into your face. You never liked sleeping without him. Nightmares struck you frequently. Often you'd wake up from a dead sleep in a panic, calling out for him, convinced that this was some sick dream and he died years ago. He’d often wake up to you clinging to his arm, face buried in his shirt.

But he was always there.

You find it easier to fall asleep when it's light out. You don't like falling asleep in the dark. He makes sure to keep a light on in the hall. The power bill you could care less about. Nightmares came to you in the dark. Your logic is that, if there's no dark, you won't have them. To some extent it works.

It's a bit late for dinner, but he finds himself in the kitchen anyway. He wants udon, but the shop you normally go to would be closed at this hour. Their mushroom udon is the best. He’ll try to recreate it.

He sets some water on to boil, along with some frozen gyoza to thaw that you always insist on going to this one specific market in Tokyo for. Chicken and leek, with lots of ginger. Your favorite. You go through so much of the stuff that you have to get it in bulk, and freeze the extras. He thinks you’ll want tea too, so he sets the kettle on to boil.

He doesn't hear you walk in. Between the clanking of pots, and the whistling of the kettle, your soft footsteps go unheard. Nanami’s hearing was never quite the same. But he senses eyes on his back, and turns.

“I didn't mean to wake you, love.” He says.

“You didn't. I was having a hard time staying asleep anyway,” you say, “what’re you making?”

“Mushroom udon and gyoza,” he says, “it’s gonna be kind of a late dinner, but I thought it sounded good.”

“Smells good,” you say.

One of his hands finds your much smaller ones. Your fingers lace with his. His hands are warm, and calloused from years of using his weapon.

“Remind me to get more tea when I head into town tomorrow,” you say, “oh- and rice too. We were getting low the last time I checked. Do you want to go too?”

He nods. He makes a silent note to add those, along with laundry soap to the shopping list.

Before, he hated going into town. Strangers poked and prodded, and asked about his scars. It's gotten better as time goes on. If cravings struck you in the middle of the night, he would be up and ready to bring you something. Craving the mochi only sold by a specific shop in Tokyo? It doesn't matter if he had to take the train all the way to the city, he’d do it. Your arms wrap around his waist from behind. He’s a bit too tall for you to rest your head on his shoulder from behind. You have to stand on the tips of your toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He smells faintly of laundry soap, and shampoo. His stubble brushes against your lips. You always liked when he grew it out.

He pulls you so you stand in front of him, your back against his chest. His hands find the swell of your belly, wrapping around you protectively. Nanami plants a kiss on the top of your head. It's one of the few moments you feel truly normal. You’re no longer sorcerers, but a couple sharing a romantic moment, one building a life together.

He’s hardly allowed any distance between you two. Nanami acts like you’re made out of glass. He’s almost afraid to touch you. God forbid you try to lift something too heavy, or help out with the housework. He’s on you in an instant, trying to get you to rest. He’s a bit overbearing when it comes to things that aren't good for the baby. No alcohol, no caffeine, no overexerting yourself. You didn't miss alcohol all that much, but you really miss coffee. At times his presence can be suffocating. He means well, even if it gets on your nerves.

When the noodles are done, he gathers two bowls- part of a set given to you as a wedding gift. You only brought them out to use when your parents would visit. Much of the time they spent gathering dust. You always talked about using them more, but never got the opportunity to. He figures now is as good a time as ever. You set the table, setting out a few candles. He’d break out a bottle of sake if you could drink, but you just settle for tea.

"Retirement looks good on you," you say.

“It looks good on you too,” he says.

Conversation carries on while you eat. The topic falls onto mundane things that make his heart flutter only when you talk about them. You make plans to go shopping in the morning. You need groceries, and there’s a new shop opening up in town that you want to check out. When you’re done eating, you help him clean up. You clear the table while he gets the dishes.

He’s finally found his place. Not in jujutsu or human society. Not among sorcerers or regular people. His place is beside you.

And each day, he finds himself falling more hopelessly in love.