#leaving it open as to what where why which Seph exactly

[kihel-sorcas]

[ rainfall ] sender finds receiver out alone in the rain

Rain was a two-sided thing. Kihel felt a little cold and miserable herself in it, but she knew the earth needed it - especially all the plants and herbs that now had the chance to sprout and grow more. The exact ones he was now searching for and picking from the moist ground of the forest.

There had not even been a noise to give the other's presence away - he just suddenly was there when she looked up again from picking some sage, making her startle into a freeze.

She recognized him. From countless posters she had seen, propaganda for ShinRa. For SOLDIER.

Silver hair and eyes that glowed like Mako.

But... wasn't he dead? Hadn't he died years ago? The great hero, lost to all...

Standing there, her hands clawed into the weaved basket, only the rainfall making noise, before Kihel found her voice again.

"... are you a ghost?"

@sephaeroth

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[increasethythunders]

the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat 2/?

- sephiroth/reader

- sfw

“You look like shit.” said one of your fellow 2nds - Devon - through a mouthful of food.

“Thanks.” you replied, sitting next to him like a bag of rocks.

By the time you dragged yourself out of the training room (not even bothering to hit the communal showers and heading straight for the cafeteria in an exhausted stupor), there was only pallid, unspecified meat and soggy leaves that might’ve been a salad once left in the reservoir. It wasn’t bad. But it wasn’t good either, uncomfortably sitting somewhere in the so-so region. Looking at the vaguely edible shapes in their cold, rectangular boxes, you figured they were more of an essence of whatever they labeled it as. A single piece of white bread had more flavor. You stacked your tray with what you could, and just before you left to grab a seat, you doubled back to grab a water bottle.

After finally having the chance to settle, the muscles in your arms and legs ached. Like someone had taken a hammer to your joints. It was nothing like the feeling of being a spunky 3rd just coming back from rigorous training - you had ached then, but it felt good. It felt like progress. Now you were just dead tired. You suspected with great indignation that the feeling wouldn’t subside in a good while.

You were about to shove a fork full of the essence of meat in your mouth when you couldn’t help but look up at the friend sitting across from you. He was staring at you with wide, bluer-than-the-sky eyes. His puppy stare (that you made sure never to call it that to his face).

“Vic.” you said, feinting a stern tone. “Don’t wanna talk about it.”

You were dying to talk about it.

“You’re dying to talk about it.” said Victor and Devon in unison.

You groaned, hands flying to your face and tugging at your eyelids as you dragged them down. You had laid there in the training room for a good five minutes after Sephiroth left, half-expecting him to come back and further damage your ego. But he didn’t. And thankfully, no one else happened upon your battered form, for better or worse. Admittedly, you were feeling a lot less achy now that you were moving around, but where your back had collided with the floor now spouted an angry bruise in varying shades of yellow and purple.

“You sparred with Sephiroth?”

Victor - a 3rd and a few years your younger - always had at least one star in each of his eyes, but as you finished your lackluster retelling of the bout, he was twinkling like the night sky. “That’s so cool.”

“Oh yeah, real cool.” you picked at a clump of soggy leaves. “Ice cold.”

“That bad huh?” Devon said, with all the concern of wet concrete.

Slouching back down from where he was practically leaning across the entire table, Victor pouted.

“C’mon, it couldn’t have been that bad! At least you’re not stuck doing drills every day. Do you know how many of these guys would beg to be where you are?”

“At least you have someone to tell you what to do. Sephiroth just..expects me to know. It’s so - he’s so-” you punctuated with a grumble in your throat and a stab at the chalky meat on your tray, but it was so tender that it flaked away.

“He trusts you - that’s a good thing!”

You paused, taking a begrudging swig of water. “I guess..you have a point.”

You were still feeling slightly bitter, but a childish smirk played at the corners of your mouth. “Okay maybe it wasn’t completely terrible.”

They both perked up, looking at you curiously.

“I might’ve cut his hair.”

Both of their eyes shot open. “You what?”

---

It was dark by the time you and your friends dispersed, drowsily heading back to your respective quarters. But as tired as you were, you still felt like gum stuck on the bottom of someone’s shoe, so with a heavy sigh you hauled yourself to the showers.

They were empty, and completely quiet save for the tap-tap-tap of a few leaky showerheads. You tried to control your shivering as you turned the squeaky knob, a paralyzing chill washing down your body as cold water hit your skin like thousands of tiny icicles. The temperature evened out after a minute or two, though it was so late in the day that the highest it was able to reach was a tepid lukewarm.

You made quick work of your hair, combing out the last of the suds with your fingers. As you washed the rest of your body, your thoughts wandered back to the bout. It had only been a few hours since the training session, and you were already feeling a little better, if a little sore. But now the bruise was the least of your worries.

Sephiroth. Trusting you. You.

You wanted to laugh. You didn’t know why the concept was so unfathomable. To you, it just seemed like he was above that sort of thing. You knew of the other 1sts - it was almost impossible to avoid them, even if you wanted to - and how they were as thick as thieves. You knew your mentor was closer to them than anyone else, recalling brief memories of seeing them roaming the halls together, laughing and being..normal. You couldn’t imagine yourself in that sphere. You’d have better luck trying to catch a cloud.

Shutting off the water, you halfheartedly dried yourself off, your hair still slightly damp on your pillow as you faded into a dreamless sleep.

---

Waking up that next morning wasn’t as much of a chore as you thought it was. You were still sore as hell, but at least you could get up without complaining. Much.

You got dressed, your back popping as you threaded your arms through your sleeveless shirt’s armholes. Then, you rolled your shoulders, taking your wrist in one hand and pulling it across your chest, stretching and popping the joints in that socket. And then the other. Sliding your suspenders over your shoulders, you spied your reflection in the mirror in your bathroom. You could fit yourself inside it, with at least a foot to spare. But that foot was reserved for the door to swing open. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’ve stubbed your toe while opening the thing with both hands twice over. Brushing your teeth, you poked mindlessly at the dark bags under your eyes. You hadn’t noticed when they had gotten there, nor for how long. You spit into the sink.

Fixing your hair - which had somehow knotted itself in the back, making you look like you had gotten shocked by lightning in your sleep - with your hands, you were satisfied enough to leave your room. It was still early enough in the morning that the cafeteria was closed for at least another half-hour. Feeling restless, a prickling in your bones that couldn’t be quelled by sitting alone in your room - or anywhere else for that matter - you decided to go for a run.

The base’s outside training fields (that weren’t fields at all, but rather a series of cleared pads that weren’t completely overrun with crates of ammunition and other surplus supplies that had yet to be shipped to a warehouse somewhere) were a fair walk away, but you didn’t mind.

As you reached the end of the hallway, the elevator leading to the ground floor already in sight, the door slid open, revealing a figure that you didn’t quite register at first. You awkwardly stopped, your boots slightly skidding against the linoleum as if urging you forward. Which you did anyway, like a machine that had sputtered slightly before kicking itself back into gear. Sephiroth hadn’t seen your buffer, but the sound of it drew his eyes to you almost immediately. He stepped out, jutting one shoulder out first before the rest of his body followed. Trying not to meet his eyes, you waited for him to exit the elevator.

“Morning, sir.” you muttered, leftover grogginess on your tongue.

He nodded, a cordial expression flashing across his face.

As you passed him, one foot about to land in the elevator, you paused. There was a hand on your shoulder. You took a step back, straightening your posture without thinking.

His hand was gloved, always gloved, the leather not entirely warm - like he had just put them on. He wasn’t grabbing you in place, but Sephiroth had a gravity to him that made you want to stay there. It kind of scared you, but you were too busy shaking off the last vestiges of sleep that liked to hang around in the morning to care. If anything, you were just confused.

“Um.” you didn’t mean for the sound to come out, but too much silence made you nervous. You stayed quiet, too muddled to think of anything to say.

Sephiroth himself wasn’t silent for too long, but it was long enough to put a little seed of apprehension in you. You shifted your weight on your feet.

“Was this from yesterday?” he said in a notably smaller tone than usual.

It took you a full second to notice that he was looking at your shoulder, and another second to realize what he was talking about. “Oh - oh, that?”

You twisted your neck as far as it could go, bending back slightly even though the motion was more irritating than you’d like to admit. You gave the bruise a passing glance.

“I mean..yeah.” you said. “But I’ve had worse, can hardly feel it anymore actually.” you quickly added after seeing his brows crease lower on his face.

“Hey, man, seriously I’m over it. It’s just a bruise, you didn’t like, cut my arm off.” Though for a moment, you thought he would have done exactly that.

“I tend to get carried away with that sort of thing..it was unprofessional of me,” He almost seemed to shrink into himself, but he looked more like one of the droopy willows you saw once while patrolling a small village outside Midgar. He withdrew his hand like he had just stung you. “I apologize for causing you harm.”

“You..don’t have to, Seph, it’s fine. I’m fine.”

“But-”

“Honest. It was just a fall, that’s how sparring matches are.” you waved him off. His concern was sweet at first, albeit strange and just a little uncomfortable. But now you felt like you were consoling a kicked puppy. “Besides, it was fun.”

“..Fun?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not every day you get to fight, er, you.”

“I see.” he said, noticeably relaxing a bit. “So you’re sure you’re alright?”

“Positive.”

The corners of his mouth turned up slightly in..satisfaction? Relief? Something like that. He looked like he was about to leave, but before he could fully turn his back to you he stopped, turning his head.

“Oh, if you can, meet me in the briefing room in about an hour. There’s something I’d like to speak to you about.”

You could feel your stomach actively turning into a pit. “Aren’t we talking right now?” you said, feeling more than a little thick in the head and wanting very badly to slap yourself when you saw a crease form between his brows.

“It’s important. I requested a meeting with Lazard.”

The pit in your stomach was now a sinkhole.

“Oh,” you said. “Okay, uh...cool.”

Sephiroth snorted with some degree of amusement. “Don’t be late.”

“Sure!” you said maybe a little too enthusiastically. You never were good at masking your anxiety. “Sure.” you quickly repeated in a markedly more composed tone, doing an even worse job at sounding calm.

He was already walking away - thank god. You didn’t want to see his face. As the elevator doors severed you from him, you found yourself tapping your foot against the panels of the floor, arms crossed so tight they felt stiff and weird dangling at your sides as you walked outside to the training field.

You ran laps (you weren’t counting, but it felt infinite), your brain shutting itself off without you meaning to. There was too much to think about, but it was so early in the morning you told yourself, that you deserved not thinking about any of it. Just for a couple minutes, a few more laps. The apology, the hand on your shoulder, the meeting, the apology - nope. Not thinking about it.

---

By the time you reached the cafeteria, you found that you weren’t that hungry at all.

[sephirothisaslut]

I’m not fond of goodbyes... See you later?

1.

The first time Cloud met the General was on an errand for Zack.

It was Sunday, and Zack had gotten drunk the day before. How he got drunk in the first place is a mystery, but Cloud suspects it’s just an excuse to sleep in. Zack sent him a rather long message via PHS apologizing to Cloud for the inconvenience, telling him to go to his mentor (Angeal) and explain Zack’s absence.

Rather annoyed with his friend, Cloud resorted with scolding him over the phone.

“Why can’t you text him? Do I really have to say it in-person? “

“Sorry Spiky but we were supposed to train today, and Angeal doesn’t allow phones in the training room.” Zack sounded sheepish. “look I’ll make it up to you. How about some Ice-cream? My treat!”

“Ugh, Zack you’re lucky I’m awake anyway. You know this is the only day Cadets can sleep in.”

“Yeah yeah, Thanks a lot Spike!”

“I hate you” Cloud said, hanging-up.

He gathered his bearings, woke himself properly and got dressed for the day.

Cloud made his way through the building and entered the elevator, pressing the SOLDIER floor. The building was rather quiet, save for the occasional pencil pusher. Seems like everyone slept in today, of course except Cloud. Grumbling at his predicament, Cloud exited the elevator and headed to the First-Class Training Room. He knocked and entered as the door slid open.

As he stepped inside, he froze. There in the middle of the room was the Silver General himself, arms crossed and clad in his usual attire. He lifted one eye-brow and spoke.

“What are you doing here Cadet?”, Sephiroth said with a snap.

“Se-Sir! Zack asked me to tell the Commander about his absence Sir!” Cloud replied in a salute.

“At ease Cadet. It seems that both of us are hear for the same reason.” Sephiroth explained with a smirk. “Angeal sent me to inform Zackary of his absence.”

“Sir?”

“Tell Zack that training is postponed today, Angeal was sent on a mission along with Genesis last night.”

“Ye-yes Sir!” Cloud said, still stiff and dazed.

“Cadet I told you ‘at-ease’, and today is Saturday is it not? You’re not on duty.”

“yes si- I mean yeah.” Cloud uttered while rubbing his neck, “Sooo, I should leave then…”

Sephiroth merely raised an eyebrow again and smirked, looking very amused.

“Yeah ok, um, see you later” Cloud said as he left, then tensed as he realized what he just said to ‘the fucking General.’

“Hmm, see you later Cadet” Sephiroth replied as he went through the door, leaving Cloud in an empty training room.

 2.

“Ughh Zack why do I have to go” Cloud grumbled, “I’m a Cadet, I’m not supposed to be hanging-out with SOLDIERS, much less the Gods-damned Top Three of Shinra!”

“Oh come one Spike, you’ll be fine. And besides you already met Angeal and Sephiroth that one time, and Genesis will probs be ok with you, so long as you don’t insult Loveless.” Zack said while dragging Cloud toward the SOLDIER Housing section.

“You could’ve at least told me earlier so I could’ve made some more Mashed Potatoes.” Cloud gestured to the container he was holding.

“Shush, stop being a worry wart and relax. Come on!” Zack sprinted as Cloud chuckled and jogged behind him.

It was a fairly warm evening, Angeal welcomed the two boys, and Thanked Cloud for his Mashed Potatoes ( to which Cloud responded with a stuttered “yo-Your welcome…”). Genesis was lounging on the couch reading Loveless, while across him was Sephiroth scanning Angeal’s CD collection for a suitable movie.

Noticing Cloud’s gaze, Sephiroth looked up and met his eyes.

“Ah it’s the Cadet, I assume you’re here with Zackary?”

“Yes Si-“

“I believe it’s Saturday, ease-up Cadet” Sephiroth said, referencing their first meeting.

“I-…Yes”

“Sephiroth don’t be a hypocrite, how can the boy relax if you keep calling him cadet?” Genesis chided, lowering his book to tease his friend.

“Hmmm, True. So Cadet, what’s your name?” Sephiroth asked, turning to Cloud.

“uh-Cloud Si-, I mean Cloud…Cloud Strife” Cloud stuttered with a slight blush.

“Cloud? Very unusual name.”

“Look who’s talking” Cloud whispered under his breath, turning to head to the kitchen to offer help to Angeal.

“Touché”

Cloud winced, he forgot about enhanced hearing. He looked over his shoulder to see if he’s offended the General somehow, and relaxed when he saw Sephiroth had returned his focus to the CD Collection.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, he left to make sure Zack hadn’t burned whatever dish Angeal has tasked him to supervise.

After preparations and several dishes, the group settled in front of the TV and started their little movie marathon. Genesis sat beside Angeal, slightly leaning on the gentle giant. Zack was seated between Angeal and Cloud, while Sephiroth settled at Cloud’s other side.

A movie in and Cloud tried not the squirm, and he seems successful. He tried focusing on the movie and not the fact that he’s sitting next to Sephiroth. He peeked at the General and blushed as he met Sephiroth’s eyes.

“So, Strife. I take it training is hard?” Sephiroth asked with a small smirk.

“Yes si-…yeah, yeah it is.”

“Hmm, who is your drill sergeant?” Sephiroth asked with curiosity.

“Sir Ghi, he’s tough on us.”

“Why is that? I heard from the Thirds that he was a relatively moderate instructor”

“Ah, it might have something to do with Bunker 4” Cloud explained with a chuckle.

“Oh? What did they do?” Sephiroth leaned closer, now obviously invested in the story.

Cloud, now noticing that their shoulders are touching, was flustered.

“Th-they didn’t do anything” Cloud squeaked, “They started a rumor that apparently Sir Ghi had once tripped during a fight with a Zolom.”

Sephiroth merely continued looking at Cloud, his smirk now a smile.

“They said he face planted in the mud and had to call for reinforcements to help him.” Cloud continued, now a little relaxed.

“It’s true” Sephiroth laughed.

“No shit!?” Cloud blurted, surprised. “I-I mean, really?”

“Yes, I was the ‘reinforcement’ that was called. It was quite messy, he never accepted missions on Swamplands after that.”

“Oh Gods, I gotta share this with the rest of the guys.”

“It’s better if you don’t, I imagine once the story spreads, Sir Ghi will make your training regime much more painful.” Sephiroth said, turning back to the movie.

“Hmm, true.” Cloud hummed as he returned to the movie.

“Oh and Cloud?” Sephiroth said without looking

“yes sir?”

“Call me Sephiroth”

Cloud looked at him, shocked. He gaped, then slowly closed his mouth and turned back to face the TV.

“Sure…Sephiroth” Cloud said, leaning slightly on the General.

Cloud didn’t see but a satisfied and happy smile graced Sephiroth’s lip.

After 3 more movies and several snacks and meals, everyone agreed to call it a night. Genesis left for his apartment, Angeal and Cloud stood and left to wash the plates, Zack headed to the bathroom, and Sephiroth volunteered to fix the living room. Cloud emerged from the kitchen and Zack from the bathroom. Everyone said their goodnights, and farewells.

“Hey Angeal, we’re heading out now!” Zack yelled toward the kitchen

“Goodnight Zack” Angeal voice emerged with the sound of running water.

“Night Seph!” Zack addressed the General. To which Sephiroth responded with a nod.

“See you later Cloud” Sephiroth smiled as he passed the two.

“See you later, Sephiroth” Cloud responded with his own smile.

3.

It had been months since Genesis defected, and weeks since Angeal had too. Zack and Sephiroth were saddled with the duties two Commanders with their normal workload. Adding to the stress, the President has tasked Sephiroth with bringing Genesis, and Angeal back.

Before he was to be deployed, Sephiroth called Cloud.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be out, but it will most likely take a few days. Three at least” Sephiroth explained.

“Hey it’s ok, I’ll be fine. Just stay safe yeah? Come back soon, and drag Genesis and Angeal back with you.” Cloud responded soothingly.

“I intend to, but I suppose I can’t blame them”

“…” “Sephiroth?”

“Yes?”

“Do you sometimes think about it?”

“About what?”

“Defecting” Cloud whispered, but then hurriedly supplied, “I-I mean I know Shinra doesn’t exactly have a safe environment, and I know their ethics are-“

“Cloud” Sephiroth’s voice cut through Cloud’s rambling.

“So-sorry I was just-“

“Cloud, I would never leave you.” Sephiroth said as both a reprimand and a promise. “You’re too important to me for that”

“o-oh”

“Cloud I love you”

“I love you too…I’m sorry I guess I’m just depressed from failing the SOLDIER exam and…”

“SOLDIER or not I still love you”

“…thank you, Seph.”

“Anyway, the transport is here…See you later?”

“hmm, yeah. See you later Seph”

Sephiroth snapped his PHS close, and turned sharply toward the chopper. He was determined to bring his friends back. And he was determined to return them even if he had to drag them by the ear, he had made a promise after all.

 4.

Cloud fought. And he intends to survive. He survived two Sephiroth clones, and Geostigma. He can survive this.

Several years since he had found himself atop the cliffs. Since he impersonated Zack. Since he lost his memories, and still missing a bulk mostly from his time in Shinra. He fought, and struggled. He held his ground as Sephiroth, the Calamity’s child, threw half the city at him. Cloud glided, jumped and dodged. He parried and slashed, hoping that this would be the last time he had to face this monster.

Cloud didn’t understand Sephiroth’s obsession with him. Perhaps it the Jenova cells, but there were times when Sephiroth’s gaze bore through him and saw something more than a puppet. Nevertheless, he still fought. Their blades met and sparked. Cloud cornered Sephiroth, finally using his Limit Break. First Tsurugi glowed and each individual sword floated and surrounded the World’s Enemy. Every strike hit his adversary where he intended.

 Cloud landed, his blades followed, surrounding him. Sephiroth rose, his wing outstretched. And then…He fell.

Cloud rushed toward him, intending to finish the job. He stood beside the One-Winged Angel, and saw-for the very first time- his face devoid of insanity and madness.

Cloud was shocked. He looked closely at the monster he had been chasing and fighting, and saw only a man. Sephiroth looked at him, smiling with broken eyes. He didn’t sneer, he just smiled sadly. He spoke in a rough, scratchy voice.

“I’m sorry Cloud…I…I’m sorry” The man said, staring into Cloud’s eyes.

“Shut up Sephiroth! You have no right to ask for forgiveness” Cloud replied with a fierceness that made Sephiroth wince.

“I know…But even so, I still would like to try” Sephiroth pleaded, his eyes now looking at the grey, empty sky.

“After everything you did to the planet? To the world? Sorry isn’t going to cut it.” Cloud glared. How dare Sephiroth of all people.

“I’m not asking the planet’s forgiveness…I’m asking for yours”

“what?”

“I’m sorry I left Cloud. I’m sorry I believed Hojo over you and Zack. I’m sorry I broke my promise.”

“what are you- “

Cloud winced; his hand shot to his head. He’s seeing visions… memories? He doesn’t know. It feels different from Jenova. There was no pain, only surprise and confusion. What are these? Are these his or Zacks? No, it’s definitely Cloud’s. Then why…no…

NO

“No…No..nonono” Cloud crashed to his knees, clasping Sephiroth’s hand.

“Cloud?”

“no no Seph please This can’t-  .. You can’t” He gasped, still dazed from his recent memory rush. He pleaded and begged as Sephiroth slowly disappeared in flecks of black feathers and miasma.

“Cloud…”

“don’t..just not-“

“Cloud…I’m not fond of goodbyes…”

‘See you later?’

Cloud returned Sephiroth’s broken gaze. He squeezed his hand tighter, afraid to let go.

“You can’t-” He whispered as the hand he held turned into a single black feather. He bowed down, unmoving for minutes.

And at the very last second, Sephiroth finally broke Cloud.

 1?

Cloud woke up. His vision swam as his eyes focused on the Cadet barracks’ ceiling. His PHS was ringing. It was Zack.

 “Why can’t you text him? Do I really have to say it in-person? “

“Sorry Spiky but we were supposed to train today, and Angeal doesn’t allow phones in the training room.” Zack replied sheepishly. “look I’ll make it up to you. How about some Ice-cream? My treat!”

“Ugh, Zack you’re lucky I’m awake anyway. You know this is the only day Cadets can sleep in.”

“Yeah yeah, Thanks a lot Spike!”

“I hate you” Cloud said, hanging-up.

Cloud stood and rose from his bed. It has been months since he was sent back, and this was the moment he had prepared for. After several minutes he was dressed. He applied his contact lenses (being sent back with his enhancements, meant that he had eyes that glowed like headlights). He headed to the elevator and pressed the button for the SOLDIER Floor. And just like last time, the building was quiet. He slowly walked toward the First-Class Training room, his knuckles hovering over the door. He breathed in, and out…Then, he knocked.

The door opened to reveal the Silver General. His back was turned, arms crossed. Cloud allowed himself to drink-in the sight. He was just as he remembered.

Sephiroth turned, his eyebrow rose.

“What are you doing here Cadet?”, Sephiroth said with a snap.

“Sir! Zack asked me to tell the Commander about his absence Sir!” Cloud replied in a salute.

“At ease Cadet. It seems that both of us are hear for the same reason.” Sephiroth explained with a smirk. “Angeal sent me to inform Zackary of his absence.”

“…” Cloud said nothing. He refused to.

“Tell Zack that training is postponed today, Angeal was sent on a mission along with Genesis last night.”

“Yes Sir!” Cloud replied

“Cadet I told you ‘at-ease’, and today is Saturday is it not? You’re not on duty.”

“Sir, even so, you are still my superior” Cloud strained to keep his voice from cracking.

Sephiroth merely raised an eyebrow again.

“I shall take my leave then Sir.” Cloud saluted and turned, “Goodbye…Sephiroth” he whispered, knowing this time, Sephiroth can hear him.

Perhaps he had been selfish. Waiting months before enacting his plan. Just to say goodbye.

He never looked back. He didn’t dare to. After rounding a corner…he fled. He ran from the tower. He ran from his old life. He ran and never looked back.

A year later, Sephiroth was sent to return Genesis and Angeal…He never came back.

A few months after Shinra’s General went AWOL, Avalanche had managed to kill the President. A gaping hole was left on the President’s chest, a single strike from Masamune. Meanwhile, Hollander remained slumped on his chair, a pool of blood under him. A blond man standing over him.

Several more months following President Shinra’s death, it rained in Midgar. Genesis’ and Angeal’s degradation cured, and Jenova was thrown into a pool of Great Gospel’s water. Sephiroth kills Hojo, and burns his corpse to ashes.

[hadestownmodern]

What you’re made for

Hey guys! So this is a Eurydice and Persephone moment, but it’s a little different. It was written, really, for one specific moment in the fic that really helps to establish the relationship they have, an I hope y’all know what it is when you stumble across that line!

In a addition this is literally the point where Eurydice’s second daughter is born, like... thats literally this fic, so just know that while we go into it!

-A

“Are you sure you don’t want me to go watch Melody?” Persephone coos, fingers gently tracing back Eurydice’s sweat soaked bangs that clung to her forehead. “I can take her crying for a little while, if you want Orpheus back.”

“No, no..” Eurydice whimpers, squeezing her eyes shut as she grasps at Persephone’s hand again. She leans back on the woman, who is walking her around the room, relying on her for almost all of her ability to stay standing. She is stalled in her words, biting hard on her lip as she grasps at the railing on the foot of the bed. Her breathing is heavy but short, as she holds it for minute long stretches of time. This wave passes, and she gasps out in relief. 

 “She needs one of her parents..and she can’t really have me right now. And Orpheus, I love him more than anything Seph, but he can’t watch me like this. It upsets him which upsets me and- you can get him right before it’s really time, okay?”

“Why don’t you sit down, baby.” Persephone suggests, voice gentle but not patronizing, as she coaxes Eurydice towards the end of the bed. Without taking any arguments, Persephone leans her back in the bed, still tightly holding onto the young girl’s hand. “The second one comes much faster, I really can go get him now so he doesn’t miss it..” This was not the first woman Persephone had seen in labor, considering the hundreds that had arrived at her childhood home for her mother’s assistance, but this was the first who meant so much to her. 

“Melody needs him, that’s where he needs to be. He takes care of that baby, I take care of this-” She goes silent as another contraction takes her, her fingers interlocking with Persephone’s as she grasps tightly, her grip draining the color from both their fingers. Neither complains.  A few moments later she releases her grip and relaxes into the scratchy sheets. “He’s got her, I’ve got this one. He can’t see the pain..”

“He’s always been so attune to that. When he was younger and I would- well, if I’d be upset- he’d know. He’d do anything he could to make me smile. He’s always been sweet like that…” Yet, she knew the boy, and that seeing this woman he loves more than anything in such agony.. He would take it to heart. And likely, blame himself. “You know what would have been less painful? A condom.”

“Oh shush, It’s worth it. I can’t wait for Melody to meet them..” Eurydice sighs in relief almost immediately before her body tenses up again, pulling Persephone’s arm around her as she tenses.

Persephone watches, as Eurydice gets worse and worse. The girl, with an incredible pain tolerance, is diminishing before her. Her entire little body is shaking violently under the little blanket. Her playful banter gone, the only sound coming from her varying between the chattering of her teeth, pitiful whimpers, and agonized, sobbing cries. 

She’s moved to sitting up in the bed leaning against Persephone as she sits between her legs. Eurydice leans her head back, to rest on Persephone’s shoulder as she sobs. Persephone’s eyes are trained on the monitors around her, keenly aware of what they all mean for the future of Eurydice and her baby, and how in a second they could change. She’s holding a cold towel around her neck, the other hand gently pressing into Eurydice’s lower back to relieve any pressure on her nerves that she can manage. It isn’t much, but she can remember the feeling of her own mother’s hands on her own body, easing her through the day Junie had been born six years prior. 

Eurydice is wordless as she sobs, her entire body weight resting on Persephone sitting behind her. She grasps at Persephone’s knee, her chest propelled forward as her body is wrecked by a unique combination of pain and fear. Her nails dig into her friend’s knee, but Persephone doesn’t complain as her own hands rest on the back of Eurydice’s, thumbs rubbing circles on the back of her palms. 

“I can’t do it” Eurydice chokes out, hands shaking so violently as she reaches for her own face, the other coming to rest on her chest, trying desperately to calm the panic, the fear, that overtook her. Fear of uncertainty and pain rip her from the moment at hand, distorting her mind in what she can only imagine is an attempt to help her survive. It’s like she is out of her own body, once again the little girl who was never quite enough. It is years of unresolved anxiety, pain, and trauma, mounting in her as her own body betrays her to the feeling of agony.  The pain of abandonment, of physical mistreatment, of losing her mother- it all seemed to both dull and amplify in this moment. “I can’t, it hurts too much. I can’t do it, mama, I can’t. Please, please don’t leave me.”

It slips out before Eurydice realizes, and in truth, she doesn’t even know that it does. Her language is beyond her, some primal part of her brain pushing her to just be. Just exist. Just survive.

Persephone inhales sharply, doing her best not to react. It’s not the time to mention the word, nor will it ever be. It’s been sent to the universe and that is where it will stay, disseminated between them in a moment that Persephone isn’t sure she’ll ever forget. 

It has to be nothing more than a slip of the tongue, she convinces herself, as she wraps her arms around Eurydice’s middle, kissing the top of her head. Instead of addressing it she threads a hand through Eurydice’s hair, pushing it from her eyes, wiping at her skin with a cool towel. “Shhh, baby, of course you can. Of course you can. It’s what you’re made for, baby.” 

She can hear it in her head, Demeter’s gentle voice promising her those same words before her own daughter was born. She can feel her gentle hands on her shoulders, pulling her hair off of her neck as she kissed her cheek. Demeter, who had nothing but faith in her that day and every day before and after. It’s what you’re made for. 

She can remember the fear, the way she begged her mother not to make her  look, the thought of seeing another baby born lifeless too much for her heart to handle. She couldn’t survive it again. She was used to it, the failure of her own body, taking the one thing she wanted more than anything over and over and over again. 

“I can’t mama, I can’t do it. Don’t make me look, I can’t.” She remembers pleading, sobbing into her hands until her mother, her mother with her gentle sweet hands pried her arms apart and laid her daughter there. She can remember her mother moving her hands to her daughter’s little frame, feeling her head bobbing on her chest. 

“She’s lookin’ for you, baby. Come on, open your eyes and look at your girl.” Demeter coaxes, her fingers running over Persephone’s head. “I told you, baby. You could do it.” She promises, kissing her temple her hand still behind the baby’s head as she holds her daughter and granddaughter both. “You’re made for this, Honeybee Baby.”

“I’ve got you. I’m right here, and i’m not going anywhere.” Persephone promises, kissing her temple again. “You aren’t alone, baby. You aren’t alone and I promise you. You can do this.” She’s pulling Eurydice’s hair into half a ponytail ontop of her head, fingers tracing her scalp. “You don’t really have a choice, now, do you?” She tries to joke, though she knows her playful friend is lost in this moment, something far more feral running her body. 

 She is acutely aware of the flurry of activity surrounding Eurydice, as various health care professionals trail in and out,  shifting at her and prodding her. Eurydice, with all her pride, is stronger than Persephone could imagine being, as doctors and nurses try to instruct her. 

Eurydice is entirely relying on Persephone to keep her upright, holding onto both of her hands to anchor her to the room, to remind her that she is physically present. Exhausted doesn’t begin to cover how she feels, the short but intense second labor having taken far more out of her than it had with Melody exactly two years prior. 

Persephone is acutely aware of the conversations around Eurydice, and the mumbling of interventions and other medically minded words flying over the girls head. “No.” Persephone speaks sharply, directed at some nearby nurses. “You aren’t giving up on her,” she snaps, before resting her head against Eurydice’s again.

Eurydice is wide eyed as she looks back at Persephone, tears a seemingly permanent fixture on her face. She nods a little, acknowledging the silent exchange between them, as Persephone whispers endless encouragement to her. 

There is a flurry of activity that they are lost in the second Eurydice relaxes into Persephone with a heavy, relieved sigh. There isn’t even time for her to acknowledge what has happened before her squirming baby is placed against her chest, her arms wrapping around her immediately. 

It’s a girl, another girl.  

Eurydice is still sobbing, though this time they have shifted in reason. Her finger runs over her face and head, holding her wriggling body against her. A girl. A sister for Melody, another daughter for Orpheus to love more than anything. She is much smaller than her sister had been, and looks nothing like her even in these first moments. What had been thick, dark hair on Melody were light, hazelnut wisps on her. Still, looking down at her, the fears Eurydice faced leading up to this moment are erased. Gone is the fear of being unable to love another like she did Melody, this tiny girl already reaching in and squeezing her heart in her tiny palms.  “Hi, baby girl, i’m your mama.” She whispers, her body completely relaxing into Persephone. 

She closes her eyes briefly as she relaxes her head onto Persephone’s shoulder, a relieved cry escaping her. “I did it.” Eurydice breathes out, as Persephone wraps her arms around her shoulders, her head resting ontop of hers. 

“You did it, baby.”

[ivegotaheadlineforyou]

Welcome to the Dust Bowl

The Dust Bowl is the Hadestown modern au that @ratcarney and I have been working on for a long time. Welcome to the Dust Bowl, Hermes’ bar, and the world surrounding it. Orpheus bartends, Persephone owns a flower shop, Hades runs an electricity infrastructure company, and Eurydice is just trying to make it through the work day and get to graduation. Here, you’ll meet some of our major players, and get a glimpse into their world. 

Somehow Jo and I have made this world that now encompases about 4 google docs, spans over 25K words worth of fics and headcanons (and that’s only counting the ones we haven’t lost to tumblr messenger), involves way more office romance and family drama than we ever could have predicted, and Keeps Us Up At Night. So here’s your entry point into the world.

You can see Seph and Eurydice here.

(written by me: developed with Jo)

Summer was lingering into September. There wasn’t a September in recent memory that brought such beautiful sun, such delicious warmth. Days were long, nights warm, and she had never felt as full as she did right now.

But her days still started early and ended late. Eurydice’s alarm buzzed every morning at ten to seven. Some mornings when she woke up, she was greeted by the sight of a sleeping Poet, or to the sound of soft talking in the next room over, usually Hermes. This morning was more solitary. She woke up alone in her bed, stretching to turn off the alarm.

Eurydice’s apartment wasn’t tidy, per se, but it was functional — a studio, most of the space occupied by the biggest bed she could afford, a small love seat she had found for cheap online, and a kitchen that was more a glorified cabinet with a sink, a hot plate, and a coffee machine. Also plants. When Seph first came over to check out her digs, she was appalled by the lack of greenery. Now every spare inch of space that received even an ounce of sunlight was filled with plants. 

Her alarm sang and she begrudgingly pulled herself out of bed, and into the shower. She quickly fired off a text to the Poet as she waited for the water to heat up. She hadn’t seen him last night and it was now odd when she went more than a day without seeing him.

E: good morning poet 🌝 💞

She smiled to herself — he never did understand her emojis, but he put up with them. She knew it would be a couple hours before she heard anything back from him. The life of a bartender meant long nights and

Her morning went on uneventfully — She showered, got dressed in a black silk blouse and grey slacks, which made for appropriate, if boring, work attire, but she stashed another shirt in her bag for class, packed her school bag, and then was out the door. She would normally make coffee for herself but she had just paid her tuition and hadn’t had the cash to grocery shop that week. She would make some as soon as she got to the office.

Eurydice tried to get to work early — at least an hour before the boss man. She got more work done when he wasn’t around. Hadestown Corp was one of the largest businesses in the city. It provided infrastructure and electricity to all the big buildings in the state, and it was all run by Mister Hades himself. Eurydice used to work as his secretary, and it was a fine job but it was only part time work. She was smart, and Hades could see that. He could see that she would be better in a bigger role, so he promoted her to his personal assistant. They made a good team, even if she did refer to him as a dirty capitalist every once in a while.

***

Hades liked structure. Liked routine. He liked respect. He had worked tirelessly for over twenty years building the company to where it needed to be, building up a team of people that worked hard. He knew how to play his roles and took pride in how well he played them. To his wife, he was a loyal and strong husband. To his employees, he was the CEO, the fearless leader. 

In short, Hades didn’t truly make much note of the personal lives of his employees. 

Eurydice was the one exception. And he did not make it willingly. 

He walked into his office, nodding to Eurydice as he passed her desk. She had her headphones on, her legs crossed in her chair and she was busy typing something on the computer. She half waved at him, mumbling “give me ten” as he walked into his office. 

When she walked in, she had folders for him. 

“Good morning, Eurydice,” Hades said, sipping his coffee. 

“Don’t see what’s good about it, but yeah, good morning to you too,” she said, only half paying attention to him, her attention on the files in her hand. He rolled his eyes at her. 

“I need you to sign off on vacation time for a couple people — Ahmad, Tim, and Jessie all put in requests last week,” she placed a folder on his desk, her eyes focused and her movements sharp. “I want to get it back to them, like, yesterday. And then I need you to sign off on catering for the office holiday party.” She placed the next folder on top of the other one. 

“Which place?” He said, putting on his glasses to glance over the forms. 

“Same people as last time. But we’re doing open bar — I’m not being in charge of drink tickets again, and you’ve got the cash to spend so why not spend it on us.” Once again, he rolled his eyes at her. 

“Anything else?” 

“Uhh, yes. Guest lists for the fundraiser in November. I’ve already run it by Seph, and she approves.”

“I really wish you would stop referring to my wife so casually. I don’t refer to your partner in such a way.”

“Yeah,” Eurydice scoffed. “That’s because Persephone is my friend, and you instill the fear of the Gods in my boyfriend.”

He held his hand out and took the guest list and seating chart from her, opening it to glance at what his wife had added to the list. “I’ll make some changes and once I’ve signed off on it, I’ll let you know.”

Eurydice made a face at him, and raised her hands in surrender. “If Seph gets angry, I’ve got nothing to do with it,” She said as she turned to leave his office. “Your meetings are all updated in the calendar!”

“Thank you,” He murmured low enough that she could hear him say something but couldn’t make it out. She shut the door behind her, and he pulled up their shared calendar. It all looked the same as it had yesterday — meetings about the southern expansion of the company, mostly, but towards the middle of the day, there was a 40 minute slot just titled “Personal” with a ... was that a leaf emoji? He shook his head, making a mental note to remind Eurydice to stop using emojis on the company calendar. 

But he knew exactly what that personal slot meant. Lunch with the Misses. The day couldn’t go by fast enough. 

***

Some days it felt like wherever Persephone went, the sunshine followed. She didn’t spend much time around the office, but when she stopped by, it felt like a breath of fresh air. She brought flowers with her, plants for desks, and lots of smiles to the workers. 

Where Hades wore pinstripes, dark suits and polished shoes, she wore thrift store finds. When she walked into the office on this day, she was wearing a jumpsuit in her signature green, belted at the waist, and her hair piled up high on top of her head. 

“Hey sweet thing,” she said waving to Jessie as she walked in. Jessie had taken over Eurydice’s old gig when she was promoted, and the young girl always had a smile to spare for Persephone. Seph stopped for a moment to lean over her desk. 

“Good peonies won’t be around for another few weeks. I promise I didn’t forget,” she whispered, winking at Jessie. The young girl smiled wide. 

“Oh Miss —“ Jessie started, but Persephone cut her off. 

“Don’t ‘oh Miss Persephone’ me,” she said, pulling a small succulent out of her bag and placing it on her desk. “Now, if I catch you watering this more than once every two weeks, you’ll be in trouble!”

She continued her rounds. A sweet fern for Tim. A potted violet for Kimberly. Daisies for Afra. Foxglove and mint for the HR team. 

“And for you,” she said, walking over to Eurydice’s desk. “Something from Mister Hermes.” She pulled a wrapped sandwich out of her bag, and passed it to the girl. She rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless. 

“Thanks, Seph,” she said, unwrapping it to see that it was one of the BLTs that she loved so much. “I’ll thank him when I see him tonight.”

“Don’t you have class tonight?”

She nodded, and sipped at her coffee. “Yup. Til seven, then I’ll head to the Dust Bowl.”

Seph slipped into an absolutely shit eating grin. “To see your Poet?” Eurydice laughed and shoved at her arm. 

“Yes, to see my Poet,” she said, half-delighting in the way Seph smiled. She had been the one to introduce them, to shove them together in a sense. She had known Orpheus since he moved in with Hermes, and started working the bar, and when she met Eurydice, she thought that they would hit it off. But the duo they had become had exceeded her expectations. 

“Well I might see you then. But now,” she said, picking up her bag and tapping Eurydice’s nose. “I’ve got a hot date.” Eurydice laughed and said goodbye as Seph walked up to Hades’ office door, knocking as she let herself in. 

Hades looked up from his paperwork, and smiled as soon as he saw his wife. 

“You’re early,” he said, standing up and walking over to her. He wrapped his arms around her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He leaned in to kiss her, and as their lips met, he dipped her slightly, just so that he could feel her smile against his lips. 

“I missed ya,” she mumbled before pulling away. He took her hand and led her to the desk. He pulled one of the chairs around so she could sit next to him. 

She placed her bag on his desk and he got to work unpacking the lunch she had brought them. Chicken with soft herbs. Fresh vegetables from her garden. She spoiled him and he knew it. But she loved to do it. 

Her husband had whatever the opposite of a green thumb was — the company he had worked so hard to build was in direct opposition to the wilderness and nature that she loved so dearly. But her man was just that — he was just a man. A bit of a softie when it came to her, and just perfect for her. 

So they sat and ate, and he held her hand, and smiled at her with those damn eyes of his. They looked like polar opposites from afar, but they had one thing in common—they loved each other fiercely. 

***

Hermes was the owner of the Dust Bowl—a mix between a student bar and someplace a little more trendy. Either way, it was a hole in the wall. You had to know it was there in order to find it. He had been running the joint for well over 30 years. When he was laid off from the post office years ago, he took his severance package and invested the lot into this place. He gave it all he had. 

And gods, it just kept on giving back to him. 

He lived in the apartment above the bar, had lived there since he bought the joint. The Dust Bowl was his whole life. It was where he met Calliope, a young girl in a desperate situation. She had frequented the bar in it’s early days until she found out that she was pregnant and on her own. Hermes was there, along with her sisters, to walk with her through it all.

When Orpheus was born, Cal asked Hermes to be the boy’s Godfather. Which meant that he got to see Orpheus whenever he could, was there to watch him grow up, play his first instrument. It meant that, when Cal found out she was sick, when she found out she wasn’t going to get better, and when she passed away, leaving behind a boy of seventeen, Hermes had to be there to pick up the pieces.

 He shared the space with Orpheus for a little while after Cal died. He barely ate, barely spoke, barely moved. It took long months of support, lots of tears, and finally some tough love from his Godfather and Aunt Euterpe, but he slowly started moving. He started playing music again. He started living again. They lived together until recently, when the boy decided he needed his own space -- he was ready for it. It was always a temporary arrangement anyway, and Hermes was glad to see him up on his feet. 

The Dust Bowl had given him Calliope, a beautiful friendship. It gave him Orpheus, too, his sweet godson. And as time went on, it gave him Seph. And now Eurydice. 

The dinner rush was just starting, and Hermes threw an apron at the boy behind the bar. “You’ll wreck your clothes if you don’t put this on,” He said laughing, and Orpheus smiled and slipped it on, going back to pulling drafts. 

Hermes still worked the bar every so often, but he spent most of the time at his spot, ringing in orders and watching the ebb and flow of patrons. He liked his perch, liked getting to know who came in and when, and who they were with and why. 

“Will Eurydice be stopping by tonight?” Hermes asked Orpheus when he was finished with customers. Orpheus nodded,  wiping down a couple glasses. 

“She just texted, and she said she was on her way soon,” Orpheus said with a smile. Every time that boy smiled, Hermes wanted to knock on wood, point to the skies. It was a rough go after Orpheus lost his mom, and for a while, it felt like they would never see him smile again. 

Then Eurydice entered their lives and it felt like it was only uphill. She had been living in town for years, taking classes at the university and working for Hadestown Corp. But it was only when she had been promoted to Hades’ assistant, and when she met Seph, that she stepped into the Dust Bowl for the first time. With her, she brought a cool breeze and the feeling that something exciting might happen. And she upended their lives for the better.

Hermes was broken from his train of thought by the sound of the bell on the door.

“Speak of the girl, and she shall appear!” 

***

The sound of Hermes words and his laugh made the Poet perk up, smiling as he saw the girl walk through the door. 

The regular patrons knew Orpheus and Eurydice from afar, so they just smiled when he left his post at the bar to run over and greet her. She reached up to cup his cheek, and he placed a soft hand at her waist, as they leaned in to share a quick kiss. She pulled him in, and was the one to pull back. Always in control, she was, and he was always willing to let her take it.

“How was class?” He asked, taking her hand and leading her to her favourite spot at the bar. She had changed clothes, swapping out her work blouse for a white cropped t-shirt. He recognized it as one of his own that had gotten holes at the hem that she must have cut up. She looked stunning as always. 

“Boring,” she said, plopping down at her seat and dropping her bag on the counter. “Ran into Urania on the way there, though. She says hi.” Orpheus smiled at the name of his aunt who worked at the same university Eurydice attended. 

“No bags on the bar, Girl,” Hermes shouted down to her, and she rolled her eyes. “Sorry, brother!” She shouted back, pushing her bag onto the seat beside her, before turning her attention back to Orpheus. 

“How was your day?” She asked, reaching for his hand, which he gave her. She tangled their fingers together, smiling at the slightly tacky feeling of his fingers, no doubt due to the alcohol.  She ran her thumb over the heel of his hand, and his calloused fingers danced against hers.

“It was good. Did some writing,” He said smiling wide at her, and she grinned back. 

“Finish anything?” She asked. He was cagey with his work that he deemed unfinished, and rarely was his work ever finished. 

“Not yet, but almost. Soon.” She nodded and leaned over, placing a kiss on his lips once again. “Come home with me?” He asked when she pulled back.

“Sure. But you’ve got customers, Poet,” she grinned, leaning back in her chair. He blushed a bit when he realized and he pushed off the bar to start making drinks. 

She hopped off her seat and walked over to Hermes. The man had an air of cool to him, with his shoes shined, and his suit crisp. He looked timeless and placeless in the best possible way. “Thanks for lunch. You really don’t have to do that.” Hermes scoffed and brushed her off.

“I know you’re strapped for cash right now, kid. It’s the least I can do,” Hermes said, placing a hand on her arm. Orpheus was watching the interaction from where he stood pouring wine for a table. Eurydice had been something akin to a lone wolf before he had met her, and now she had more people than she knew what to do with. When Orpheus and Eurydice officially became a couple, she gained Seph, Hermes, and the rest of Orpheus’ family, including his eight aunts. Eurydice loved fiercely and she attracted people who did the same. 

“What are your plans for tonight?” Eurydice asked when Orpheus had finished with customers. He nodded to Hermes, and asked “do you want me to close up tonight?” Hermes shook his head. 

“You kids have fun,” He said to them. “Once we’ve hit last call at 10, you’re free to go. Just don’t forget to restock the bar.”

“I’ve got that,” she said, hopping behind the bar, and grabbing Orpheus’ notepad from his back pocket. She leaned in to kiss his cheek and he whispered a quick ‘thank you’ as she did. Orpheus loved the Dust Bowl, but the downstairs stock room sometimes sent him into a panic. It was too far underground, and the space was too tight for his liking. It meant a lot that, without prompt or asking, Eurydice jumped in to take over. She knew how debilitating his panic attacks could be — she would never forget finding him on the floor, shaking like a leaf, the first time she had seen him during a panic attack. She would do whatever she could to prevent them.

“Stop hopping the bar,” Hermes said to her, shaking his head, but she was already over it, leaning down under the bar, counting bottles and cans and kegs, tallying up what was left. Once she had made a few trips back and forth to stock the bar, and once Orpheus had called for last rounds, the two wished Hermes a good night, as they headed out.

Once outside of the bar, Eurydice pulled him off to the side of the pavement and took his face in her hands. She pulled him down to her level and gently kissed him. He responded with enthusiasm, his hands finding her hips, just like she taught him how she liked it. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him like she was breathing him in, and he gave himself over to her.

It could have been seconds or minutes or months or years, but when Eurydice pulled back, gone was the weight of the work day, and the pressure of her classes. All that was left behind was a look of relaxation, and it was all Orpheus could do to not kiss her right back. He wanted nothing more than to see her relaxed and well rested, to see her happy with no reservations.

He squeezed her hips slightly, and she smiled gently at him. “Hi,” she said, nudging his forehead with hers.

He smiled. “Hi.”

“You gonna take me home?” she asked, and he nodded softly. 

“If you’ll let me,” he said, his voice light. Eurydice looked up into his big, beautiful eyes, and she questioned how she didn’t follow him home the first night she met him. Orpheus, with his big heart, and eyes that hid nothing, had told her he was in love with her after only a few days of knowing her. She tried to keep her distance, but there was something magnetic about him. She couldn’t keep herself away, couldn’t remove herself from his orbit.

She kissed him again, softly this time. Still filled with passion and want, but gentler, and only briefly. “Always,” she said. Orpheus knew that four months ago she never would have dreamed of uttering that word to someone. He knew how tightly guarded she kept herself. And his heart fluttered at the thought that he was allowed to hear her say these things. That he was allowed to be the one who got to take her home, and kiss her, and tell how special she was. It was Orpheus who she had chosen, baggage and all. 

He threaded his fingers through hers, and they started their walk back to Orpheus’ apartment, surrounded by a city still clinging onto summer, and blissfully in love.

[buoyantsaturn]

I’m in Hell (5/?)

summary: Will meets Nico’s dad. Nico meets Will’s mom. Angst follows.

word count: 12,426 (73,086 total)

read on ao3 | read part four | read part three | read part two | read part one

Nico called Annabeth as he started packing up a suitcase for him and Will. The three of them would be leaving for California with Hazel and Frank the next morning to introduce Frank and Will to Nico’s father, and Nico had no idea how to orchestrate a meet the parents. Meeting Will’s dad hadn’t exactly gone well, and Nico knew that his own father wasn’t going to be a peach, but he could only hope that there wouldn’t be any punches thrown - it would likely be a close call.

Seeing as Annabeth had had to introduce her mother and Percy, Nico figured she would give the best advice on how to handle a potentially dangerous situation.

“You’re taking Will home to meet your dad?” Annabeth asked, obviously surprised. “I didn’t realize things had gotten so serious already.”

“Yeah, well, I had a pretty shitty run-in with his dad, so I figured I’d repay the favor,” Nico said with a roll of his eyes as he opened up the closet. “Anyway, do you have any advice? I know your mom hates Percy, so I’m sure that first meeting wasn’t great.”

“There was quite a bit of name-calling,” Annabeth admitted, “but I wasn’t about to let her take any kind of control over my life, you know? She wasn’t around when I was growing up, so she doesn’t get a say in what I do as an adult, and I told her that. I made it clear that I was just showing her a basic courtesy in introducing her to my boyfriend before we got married, and I told her that if she continued to treat Percy like shit, then she wouldn’t be invited to the wedding.”

Nico stared into the closet as he thought. Should he pack nice clothes in case he was expected to go to Mass? “So, is that what I should say to my dad?”

“You’re an adult, Nico. I can’t tell you what you should say any more than your dad can,” Annabeth said. “I know how terribly your dad treated you when you were a teenager, but you don’t have to sit back and take it anymore. You need to make it clear that you and Will are together, and don’t even give him the chance to give you shit about it.”

Nico turned away from the closet, deciding against packing any dress clothes. “Oh, and I guess I should let you know that Will and I are engaged.”

“Yeah, I figured. Congrats, by the way.”

“What do you mean, you figured? I was expecting you to be surprised!”

“You and Hazel swore you would never go back there unless you were both engaged. If I remember correctly, you even said something about needing protection from your dad.”

“I forgot that other people knew about that.”

“Hey, since you’re going to California, you should try to meet up with Reyna. I bet she’d love to see you, and maybe introducing Will to her will be good practice, and you’ll be less nervous to introduce him to your dad.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m more anxious about Reyna and Will meeting than anything else. My dad’s just gonna take one look at Will and say he disapproves, or something, but Reyna? She’ll grill him within an inch of his life!”

“She’ll just want to make sure Will’s treating you right,” Annabeth teased.

Nico rolled his eyes. “It’s not like LA and San Francisco are anywhere near each other, anyway. I think it’d be pretty hard for us to meet up.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

Nico sighed. “Fine. I’ll text her. Anyway, thanks for the advice. I gotta finish packing before Will gets home, but I’ll let you know how everything goes.”

“Looking forward to it. Bye, Nico. Love you.”

“Uh huh.”

Nico ended the call and went to Bianca’s room to make sure she was packing.

Frank and Hazel met them at the Solace household early the next morning so that they could carpool to the airport. They had a very early flight, which mean that they had to be to the airport before the sun had even risen, and both Bianca and Will were still practically asleep as they loaded into the backseat of Hazel’s car. Nico had barely slept the night before, too anxious about the plane ride and seeing his father, and had already been awake when Will’s alarm went off.

Nico crammed into the backseat with Will and Bianca, their suitcases piled into the trunk, and they drove off to the airport. It was Will and Bianca’s first time on a plane, so Bianca had gotten the window seat with Will in the middle so that Nico could be as far from the window as possible.

Will set his hand over Nico’s where he was gripping the armrest so tight that his knuckles had turned white. “Are you going to be alright, Darling?”

Nico pressed his head back against the seat. “I hate planes.”

“We didn’t have to do this,” Will told him.

The plane rocked gently as they hit a small patch of turbulence, and Nico squeezed his eyes shut. “I owe it to my teenage self.”

Will stroked his thumb across the back of Nico’s hand. “How so?”

Nico groaned, gritting his teeth. “I don’t know!” “Okay, sorry,” Will said with a chuckle, pressing a kiss to the side of Nico’s head. “Why don’t you try to sleep? It might make the flight easier on you.”

“I don’t think I could.”

“Just try.” Will patted his shoulder with his free hand. “I’ve got the perfect pillow for you right here.”

“Your bony shoulder?”

“It’s not that bony!” Will argued. “Just...sleep. We’ll be on the ground in no time.”

With a huff, Nico leaned against Will’s side and moved his death-grip from the arm rest to Will’s bicep. Will pressed a kiss to the top of Nico’s head, and after a few moments Nico’s hold on him relaxed as he started to fall asleep.

He managed to sleep until the plane started its descent, and held Will’s hand so tightly he started losing feeling in his fingers until the wheels stopped rolling on the runway and Nico finally let go.

From landing to exiting the plane to collecting their suitcases from baggage claim, nearly an hour had passed. Nico had been about to call his dad or maybe a cab, whichever he got an answer from first, but then Hazel pointed something out across the entryway.

“Does that sign say di Angelo?” she asked, pointing to a man in a suit who was holding up a sign.

“Your dad sent a car for us?” Will asked.

Nico scoffed. “He couldn’t even pick us up himself.” He grabbed the handle of his suitcase with one hand and Bianca’s hand with the other, and started leading the group toward the driver.

Thankfully, he’d sent the small limo - both because the bigger one was always embarrassing, and because there had always been the chance they wouldn’t all fit in a smaller car. “I always forget that you come from money,” Frank said as the driver opened the door for them.

“Is this the normal treatment?” Will asked.

“Just be happy he sent the smaller limo,” Hazel said as she climbed into the car, and Nico smiled. As much as he was dreading seeing his father, he was glad he had Hazel there with him. “I’m sure you can imagine how embarrassing it was for me to get picked up from summer camp in a stretch limo.”

“That must’ve been tough on you, honey,” Frank teased as he followed her inside.

As Will and Bianca took their seats, Nico brought their suitcases to the trunk for the driver to put away before he climbed inside the limo, shutting the door behind himself.

The car started to pull away from the curb, and Will asked, “So, is there any last-minute information on your dad you forgot to share that we should know?”

Nico slumped against Will’s side. “If you see him drinking, don’t go near him. Actually, if he starts drinking then we’re leaving. We’ll get a hotel, or something.”

Will wrapped an arm around Nico and pressed a comforting kiss to the side of his head. “Anything else?”

“How should we address him?” Frank asked. “Mr. di Angelo? Or...his first name? What is his first name?”

“Don’t even bother addressing him,” Nico said at the same time that Hazel replied, “I think sir would probably be best.”

“What about your stepmom?” Frank asked.

“Oh, she’s great!” Hazel said with a smile. “She’ll be there now, but Dad probably has to work today, so hopefully he won’t be home until later.”

It was lunchtime when they arrived at Nico’s giant childhood home. As the driver removed their suitcases from the trunk, Nico pulled Will aside and hugged him.

“Thank you for doing this,” he said softly. “Thank you for coming here with me. But… Before we go in there, before anything happens, I want to tell you that I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s gonna happen, or how I’m gonna act, but if I say anything, or do anything-- If I snap at you--” Nico groaned and buried his face in Will’s chest. “Don’t hate me for it. Whatever happens, please don’t hate me afterwards.”

Will kissed the top of his head. “I could never hate you, Darling.”

Nico took a deep breath and said, “Okay. Let’s go.”

They grabbed their suitcases, and with Frank, Hazel, and Bianca, they made their way into the house. Nico didn’t bother knocking before he stepped inside and called out, “Hello? Seph?”

He expected to hear the clicking of high-heeled shoes coming toward them, but instead heard soft-soled shoes until his father was standing in front of them.

Will watched as Nico wiped all emotion from his face as he met eyes with his father.

“No hello for your own father?” he asked.

“Hi, Dad,” Hazel replied, as Nico said, “Hello, Hades.”

Hades’s eyes narrowed at his son. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to these others?”

Hazel stepped forward, pulling Frank with her by the hand, and said, “Dad, this is Frank, my fiance.”

Frank held out his free hand. “Hello, sir, it’s nice to meet you,” he said as he shook Hades’s hand.

Hades turned to Nico expectantly.

Nico gestured to Will and said, “This is Will.” Then he set a hand on Bianca’s shoulder and brought her out from behind her father. “And this is his daughter, Bianca.”

Hades’s eyes widened, obviously startled as he stared down at the little girl, but quickly school his features. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “Persephone is setting the table for lunch. Please show Will to the guest room--”

“We’re engaged.”

Hades appeared to deflate, and the look on his face could only be described as disappointment. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

Will reached forward and squeezed Nico’s hand. “That could’ve been worse, right?”

“I doubt it,” Nico replied, and tugged at Will’s hand. “C’mon, let’s take our stuff upstairs.”

The five of them went up the stairs, dragging their suitcases along behind them, and parted ways to separate bedrooms. Nico and Will left their suitcase in Nico’s childhood bedroom before dropping Bianca’s off in the nearest guest room.

Hazel and Frank were already at the table with Hades and Persephone once they’d made it back downstairs and into the dining room. Persephone stood from her seat with a smile when she saw them enter.

“You must be Will!” she said, and shook his hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you.” She looked down to find Bianca, and crouched down to shake her hand as well. “And Bianca, it’s so nice to meet you, too!” When she straightened again, she said, “Please, take your seats! It’s been so long since I’ve heard from you, I can’t wait to hear what you’ve been up to!”

As Nico, Will, and Bianca sat down at the table, Hazel said, “We wanted to come down to let you both know that Frank and I are engaged.”

“And so are we,” Will tagged on.

Persephone gasped, glancing between the two couples. “That’s fantastic! How did it happen? Who asked who? Oh, I just love proposal stories! And Hazel, you must have a ring, right? Let me see!”

“Oh, no ring,” Hazel said. “And it’s not much of a story, either.”

“I just graduated from West Point,” Frank told her. “I moved into Hazel’s apartment after school ended, and we started talking about marriage and agreed that we’re on the same page. So, we’re engaged, just without the ring or the proposal.”

“Very modern of you,” Persephone said, and turned to Nico and Will across the table. “And what about you? Nico, I didn’t even know you were seeing anybody! You should’ve told us when we called on your birthday.”

Nico tried his best not to sink down in his chair as he muttered, “We weren’t together yet.”

Will cleared his throat. “We had had a few conversations about getting married someday, and we were on the same page, or at least I’d thought we were, but then I got down on my knees at breakfast one morning and asked, and Nico said no--”

Nico felt himself starting to smile. “I didn’t say no, I--”

Hades cleared his throat from where he sat at the end of the table, and stood up. “Excuse me.” He turned on his heel and walked out of the room, and Nico felt the smile drop from his face.

Will grabbed Nico’s hand, and tried to carry on. “I asked, and he said no, but I think that’s just because he wanted to be the one to ask.”

Nico tried to listen, tried to contribute to the conversation for the rest of the meal, but his anger was keeping him from focusing on anything for too long. By the time they’d all finished eating, Hades still hadn’t returned to the table, and Nico was certain that it was because of him - because of Will.

Nico offered to take their empty dishes into the kitchen, and dropped them in the sink before he started toward his father’s office. He could see Hades sitting at his desk through the glass doors.

Nico knocked, not waiting for a response before he walked inside. He stood in the doorway for a moment in silence, though Hades never acknowledged him. “You missed lunch. And hearing about my engagement.”

“Seems I have,” Hades replied, not looking up from the papers on his desk.

Nico crossed his arms. “Do you even have an excuse?”

“I had to take a phone call.”

“Your phone wasn’t ringing.”

“It was on silent.”

“Just admit that you hate the idea of your son marrying another man!” Nico shouted, and tensed at the volume of his own voice. He gripped his t-shirt in his fist to avoid digging his nails into his own arm, and ducked his head when Hades finally turned to look at him.

“I don’t have a problem with it,” Hades said, fighting to keep the volume of his voice under control, “I’m just a little surprised!”

“What’s so surprising? You never thought your emotionally stunted son would ever find someone?”

“I’m surprised because you nearly stopped speaking to me after your sister died. Your birthday was the first time you’d spoken to me since you moved as far away as you possibly could without leaving the country, and for an hour-long phone call, you still barely said a word! Now you just show up at my doorstep with a fiance and a daughter who looks exactly like your dead sister, and you never even told me you were gay!”

Nico’s jaw dropped. “My whole life, I only ever talked about Percy Jackson! How did you not realize I was gay?”

Hades pinched the bridge of his nose and heaved a sigh. “I just want to be included in your life, Nico. I’m your father, and I love you, and I miss you, and I want to see you more than once every three years.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?” Nico spat. “You refused to even acknowledge me for months after Bianca died! Oh, except for when you were drunk, and then you were taking swings at me! You don’t hit the people you love!”

“Which is why I got sober!” Hades shouted, and Nico startled back a few steps, flinching like he was afraid of being hit even from across the room. Hades had lowered his voice when he continued by saying, “I haven’t had a drink in over a year. I called you on your birthday to make amends, but I couldn’t get the words out, so I kept stalling until you hung up on me--”

“I didn’t. There was a snowstorm.”

“--but I wanted to apologize.”

“Then do it. Right now. Apologize.”

Hades opened his mouth and shut it again without saying a word. He took a breath a tried again, but still no sound came out.

“That’s what I thought.”

Nico turned and left Hades’s office, leaving the door open behind him. He wandered the main floor until he found the others relaxing in the living room. Persephone was in an armchair and Frank and Hazel were sharing the loveseat. Bianca appeared to be playing a game on Will’s phone as she sat on one end of the couch, and Will sat on the other end with one arm draped over the back of the couch, almost like an invitation.

Nico sat down beside him, feeling as though he was shaking like a leaf, and hadn’t even noticed that he was scratching at his own arm until Will pulled his hand away. He pressed a kiss to Nico’s knuckles before intertwining their fingers. “Are you alright, Darling?” he whispered, and Nico shook his head. He curled up against Will’s side and tried to listen to the conversation around him.

Nico had successfully managed to avoid seeing his father for the rest of the day - aside from one very tense family dinner - and was getting ready for bed when Hazel dragged him back downstairs and into the living room. Hades was pacing in front of the couch, and looked up when the two entered the room. Nico tried to turn around and leave, but Hazel kept a strong grip on his wrist and forced him to sit next to her on the couch.

“Thank you, Hazel, for bringing him,” Hades said, and Nico rolled his eyes and he slumped back against the couch with crossed arms.

“I would’ve fought harder if I’d known what this was about.”

Hazel squeezed his hand in warning, so Nico shut his mouth.

Hades sat down awkwardly on the coffee table in front of them, and folded his hands on his lap. He took a breath and said, “When the two of you left, it broke my heart. I realized how poorly I’d treated the both of you over the years, and knew that I needed to change in order to get back on your good side - if I ever was in the first place. It was a long and difficult road, but I’ve officially been sober for a little over a year now. It’s important to my sobriety that I make amends to the people I’ve hurt in the past, and for the good of our family, I would like to apologize to you both. I acted out after Bianca’s death, and I treated you both so terribly. Nico, I am so sorry that I blamed you for her death, and for every time I hit you--”

“You hit him?” Hazel hissed, but this time Nico squeezed her hand to hold her back. Now that Hades was finally talking, Nico wanted to hear what he had to say.

Hades continued, “And I want to apologize for my behavior today. You fiances didn’t deserve that treatment, and your daughter deserves to have a grandfather… If you’ll have me.”

“That’s not up to me. It’s up to Will.”

“Of course,” Hades said with a nod, and turned to Hazel. “And Frank deserves an apology as well, but you are my children, and I should have said these things to you years ago. I’m not asking for your forgiveness, but I do ask that you accept my amends.”

“Thank you, Dad,” Hazel said, and stood up. She waited until Hades stood as well, and wrapped her arms around him.

Nico stood as well, though he wasn’t about to hug Hades, and tried to sneak off as Hazel left, but Hades stopped him with a, “Nico, wait, please.” He stepped around the coffee table and went to one of the bookshelves built into the wall. He returned with what looked like a photo album, and claimed Hazel’s seat on the couch. Hades stared up at Nico expectantly until he sat back down.

Hades flipped open the cover of the photo album, and the first picture inside was of Bianca and Maria. “This book has every picture of your mother that I have, and just about every picture of Bianca. I thought you would like to have it.” He held out the album until Nico took it from him, and slowly started to flip through the pages.

“Really?” Nico asked, and Hades nodded. “Thanks...Dad.”

Hades set a hand on Nico’s shoulder and smiled. “Goodnight, son.”

He stood and left the room, leaving Nico alone with the photo album. He got lost in his memories as he flipped through the pages, completely forgetting about his plan to sleep until he heard footsteps entering the room.

“You alright, babe?” Will asked as he made his way over to the couch. He leaned against the back, peering over Nico’s shoulder at the book in his lap. “What’s that?”

“A photo album,” Nico answered. “My dad just gave it to me. Come here.” He patted the space next to him, inviting Will to sit, and leaned into his side once he had. Nico set the album between them as he continued to slowly flip through the pages, pointing out pictures and describing the memory behind them.

“This is my mother,” Nico said, pointing to a picture of Maria. She must’ve gotten dressed up for something, because in the photo she was wearing a black cocktail dress with a full face of makeup.

“She’s beautiful,” Will commented. “You look just like her.”

Nico blushed. Had Will just called him beautiful? He flipped the page again, and heard Will gasp beside him. He picked up the album and brought it closer to his face as if it would give him a better look on a perfectly clear picture.

“That looks like…”

“Bianca,” Nico finished for him.

“Yeah, but--”

“That’s my sister,” Nico said, “Bianca.”

Will stared at him with wide eyes, his mouth dropping open like he wanted to speak, but no words were coming out. When Nico started to laugh, Will finally said, “They look exactly the same.”

“Not exactly,” Nico replied. “Bi has more freckles, and her hair is a little bit lighter.”

“How come you never told me? I mean, you had to notice, right?”

“Yeah, of course. The first second I saw her, I noticed, and it freaked me out. Same with my dad.”

“Nico,” Will said, dropping his gaze back to the photo, “how can two unrelated people look so similar?”

“I don’t know, but I think you’re worrying about this a little too much,” Nico said with a smile. “I think you need to get some sleep, because I know I do.”

Will sighed. “You’re right, let’s go to bed.” He stood up and set the album on the coffee table before he took Nico’s hand and pulled him up off the couch.

When Will finally managed to drag Nico out of bed and downstairs for breakfast, Nico saw Hades pulling Frank into the next room, and he realized that Will would probably be next in line for an amends. Nico led Will straight past the dining room and into the kitchen in the hope that he could hide Will for a little while longer in order to prepare him for what was about to come.

When they got to the kitchen, they found Hazel at the stove and Bianca sitting on the island.

“What’s going on?” Nico asked as Will said good morning to his daughter.

“Hazel’s making eggs for me,” Bianca answered.

“We’re not really sure what Seph made for breakfast,” Hazel elaborated, “so I didn’t want to risk letting Bianca eat it.”

“Thank you,” Will replied.

Nico stepped up to the stove and spoke quietly in the hope that only Hazel would hear him when he said, “So, Dad’s talking to Frank.”

Hazel bit her lip before saying, “I know. I think it’ll be fine, but I’m a little nervous.”

“Will’s probably next, right?”

“I would think so.”

“Next for what?” Will asked, and Nico winced. “Should I be concerned?”

“Probably not,” Hazel replied.

Nico cleared his throat. “Um. Dad got sober, and he’s going around making amends. He’s probably coming to you next.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s great, right? And that means he talked to both of you already, so you’ve accepted his amends and you can move past it now.” Nico and Hazel shared a look. “You did accept his amends, right? It’s important to his sobriety that you do that. It’s really difficult for someone to put themselves out there during an amends, and you don’t have to forgive them but you have to accept the amends.”

Nico dropped his gaze and crossed his arms. “Yeah, uh. I guess I probably should do that.”

Bianca pulled on Will’s sleeve to get his attention. “Daddy, what’s an amends?”

“It’s sort of like a fancy apology,” Will answered.

“What makes it fancy?”

Will took a breath. “You have to...take special classes to learn how to do it.”

“Oh. Sounds boring.”

“But it’s important to apologize to people because it will help you to remember not to do the same thing over again.”

Nico huffed. “Alright, I’ll go accept his amends.”

As he left the kitchen, Hazel turned off the stove and announced, “Eggs are ready!”

Will raised an eyebrow at her. “Did you accept his amends?”

“I said thank you, isn’t that good enough?”

“Maybe, maybe not.”

Hazel groaned. “God, you’re such a dad.” She followed after Nico to find Hades, and passed Frank in the hallway. He smiled and offered a thumbs-up, so Hazel figured it couldn’t have been too bad.

She had to follow the sound of Nico’s voice in order to find them.

“I don’t forgive you,” she heard him say as she rounded the corner, finally spotting them just outside of Hades’s office, “and I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you, but I...accept your amends.”

Hades smiled, though it came off rather sad. “Thank you, Nico.”

“You probably want to talk to Will now, right?” Nico asked, and Hades nodded. “I’ll go get him.”

He turned to head back to the kitchen, nodding at Hazel as he passed. He heard Hazel accept Hades’s amends just before he was out of earshot, and soon found Will just where he’d left him. “It’s your turn,” he said. “He’s waiting for you by his office.”

“And where’s that?” Will asked.

“By the door to the garden.”

Will sighed. “Babe, I couldn’t find the front door right now if I tried. I didn’t know there was a garden.”

“Down the hall, turn right, it’s the glass doors on your left.”

“Thank you.” He pressed a kiss to Nico’s forehead before he left the room.

Will followed Nico’s directions until he found himself, for the first time, alone with Hades. “Hello, sir,” he greeted. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, I--” he cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “I’m sure Nico has shared with you how horribly I used to treat him, and I hope he has told you that I tried to reconnect with him last night after making an amends. I’m about a year sober, you see--”

“I know, Nico told me,” Will said, hoping to ease Hades’s discomfort.

“I want to apologize to you for my behavior yesterday. I had no right to treat you as coldly as I did, and I hope you can forgive me for that.”

“Thank you, sir. I accept your apology,” Will replied.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your engagement, as well. It’s clear to me that you make my son very happy, and after everything he’s been through - after everything I’ve put him through - he deserves all the happiness in the world. Thank you for taking care of him when I could not.”

At the end of the weekend, the five of them were more than ready to leave. Nico had made sure to pack up the night before so that they could leave quickly after waking up, though Will seemed to have a different plan.

As Nico tried to stand up to get dressed, Will pulled him back down into the bed. “Will, we have a plane to catch.”

“Actually, there’s been a slight change of plans,” Will told him, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep him from going anywhere. “We’re not leaving with Frank and Hazel.”

“Will, I am not staying here any longer than I absolutely have to, and that timer runs out in about half an hour.”

“We’re still leaving before lunch, we’re just taking a different flight back home. Our flight has a layover. In Nashville. For two days.”

“Two days?”

“I want you to meet my mom.”

Nico relaxed and tensed up again in under a second. “Your mom? Really?”

“Yeah, really. I just spent the whole weekend with your dad and stepmom. I’m in your childhood bedroom right now, of course I want you to meet my mom,” Will said with a chuckle. He pressed himself closer and knocked his forehead gently against Nico’s. “We’re gonna get married someday, and if my mom gets an invitation without ever meeting you, she’s gonna be pissed. I’d never hear the end of it.”

“Nobody’s ever brought me home to meet their mom before,” Nico said softly. “Do you think she’ll like me?”

“She’s going to love you,” Will assured him, and leaned in for a kiss. “Almost as much as I do, but nobody could love you like I do.”

Nico frowned. “Careful, that almost sounded like an insult.”

“What? How?”

“You made it sound like I’m unlovable.”

“No I didn’t! I said that I love you so much that nobody could ever compete with me!”

“You said that nobody could ever love me--”

“That’s not what I said, and you know it!” Nico snorted, and Will gasped. “You’re doing this on purpose! Do you think it’s fun to get me all riled up?”

“Maybe. You’re cute when you’re trying to prove your love for me.”

“Oh, I’ll show you cute,” Will said, and rolled himself on top of his fiance as he started to pepper his face with kisses.

Nico was just as fidgety and anxious as the last time he’d gotten on a plane, and had just about broken every bone in Will’s hand when they hit a rough patch of turbulence.

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this a third time,” Nico complained as he squeezed his eyes shut and slammed his head back against the seat. “I hate planes.”

“If I’d known about your fear of flying, then I wouldn’t have planned for this,” Will told him. “But it’s too late now.”

“I hate you,” Nico groaned.

“No you don’t.”

“Well, I don’t like you very much.”

“You love me.”

“Just because I love you doesn’t mean I have to like you.”

Due to the time change and their later flight, the plane landed around ten at night, and after getting off the plane, picking up their bags from baggage claim, and finding a cab, they didn’t even leave the airport until eleven.

Bianca fell asleep in the cab, so when they finally arrived at Naomi Solace’s house, Nico had to carry her to the door while Will collected their suitcases. Will let them in without knocking by using the spare key his mother kept under a rock near the door, hoping that he wouldn’t accidentally wake Naomi as they settled in for the night.

They’d barely made it into the house before a light turned on in the hallway. A woman came around the corner into the entryway, pulling a bathrobe on over her pajamas, and squinting to see in the dark. “Will, honey, is that you?”

“Hi, Mama,” Will whispered, stepping forward and pulling Naomi into a hug.

“You scared me half to death! What are you doing here?” She pushed herself away and stepped around Will as she said, “Where’s my favorite little girl?”

When Nico met Naomi’s gaze, he wanted to shrink down and hide.

“Will,” Naomi said to her son, though she kept her gaze locked on Nico as she spoke, “Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Will was at Nico’s side in a second, placing an arm around his waist carefully so as to not disturb Bianca who was still asleep in Nico’s arms. “Mama, this is Nico.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Solace,” Nico said.

“Oh, honey, please, call me Naomi.” She glanced between them for a moment, her face twisted up in confusion. Finally, she said, “Well, as much as I would love to stay up and chat, I think we all ought to head off to bed. Will, I’m sure you can get yourselves settled in.”

“Of course. We’ll see you in the morning.” Will hugged Naomi once more before she ventured back into the house.

Will kicked off his shoes before taking Bianca from Nico so that he could do the same, and led Nico further into the house. He put Bianca to bed in her old room - it looked just like it had when they’d left - before taking Nico across the hall to Will’s room.

“I think that went well,” Will told him as he shut the door behind them.

“Really?” Nico asked. “She looked surprised, and not really in a good way.”

Will walked toward him and wrapped his arms around Nico. “So, I probably should’ve told her we were coming, but I wanted to surprise her. I don’t think it went poorly, do you?”

“It could’ve been better! Did your mom know that you’re bi?”

Will frowned. “Of course she did. Why would you think she didn’t?”

“She didn’t look happy, and--” Nico took a breath. “Okay, so, apparently, I never told my dad I was gay. I thought I did!” he said quickly before Will could interrupt. “But I guess I didn’t. I don’t know how he didn’t catch on even without me telling him, but--”

“You brought me home to meet your dad who thought you were straight,” Will said, and in a second he started to laugh. “What a way to come out, huh?”

Nico rolled his eyes. “Alright, well, it’s not that funny.”

“It kind of is.” Will dropped his head to rest against Nico’s. “I promise you, my mom knows I’m bi. I told her when I was in high school, and she… She was quiet, but she wasn’t upset.”

“So she most likely won’t throw me out of the house when she finds out we’re engaged?”

Will shrugged. “Probably not.”

“You’re not making me feel any better about this.”

Will had woken up early and had found his mom in the kitchen making breakfast. He’d tried to help, but just like Nico, Naomi refused to let Will anywhere near the stove. Bianca woke up just in time for breakfast, and when they sat down to eat, Naomi started asking about Nico - mainly about where he was.

After breakfast, Naomi decided to go on a grocery run, and Bianca volunteered to go with her. As soon as they left, Will returned to his old bedroom to check on Nico, only to see that he was already awake and scrolling through his phone.

Will walked up to him and knelt beside the bed, resting his chin on the mattress and waiting for Nico to set his phone aside. “Good morning,” he said when Nico finally met his gaze. “You missed breakfast. Are you alright?”

“What if your mom doesn’t like me?” Nico whispered.

“She won’t like you at all if you never get out of bed,” Will replied. “She’s gonna think you’re lazy, and then you’ll never get on her good side.”

“You’re terrible at this, did you know that?”

“C’mon, get up. Mom took Bi to the store, so we have the place to ourselves for a little while. Come get breakfast, and when they get back, I’ll help you convince my mom of how amazing you are.”

“Fine,” Nico said with a huff.

They went out to the kitchen where Nico reheated the leftover french toast that Naomi had made, and after he ate, the two of them went to the living room to watch some TV while they waited for Naomi and Bianca to return. After spending the weekend in Nico’s giant childhood home, he found comfort in the smaller size of Naomi’s house - it felt like the perfect environment to raise family, unlike the immaculate mansion in which he’d been raised. It was cozier here, and even with his spiked anxiety, Nico felt more comfortable in Naomi’s living room than he’d felt the entire weekend at his father’s house.

After a while, Nico heard the front door creak open, and Naomi called out, “Will, honey, is Nico awake yet?”

“Yeah, Mama, he’s right here,” Will answered, and Nico tensed. Will pulled him close on the couch and wound an arm around him, pressing a kiss to the side of his head.

“Oh, good, can you come help me with the dishes, dear?”

“Be right there.” Will was already standing when Naomi came around the corner.

“Oh, sorry, Will, I meant Nico,” she said with a smile in Nico’s direction. “If you’re that eager to help, Will, then you and Bianca can unpack all the groceries we just picked up.”

The kitchen was a little cramped with all four of them in there, but Nico was a lot more comfortable knowing that he wasn’t alone.

As Naomi started to fill the sink with water, she asked, “Now, honey, why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”

Nico hesitated. “What do you want to know?” Will was trying to give him an encouraging smile over his mother’s shoulder, but it wasn’t making Nico feel any better.

“Anything you want to tell me,” she said. “Where are you from? How old are you? Where did you go to college? Ooh, and how did the two of you meet?”

As Naomi began washing the dishes from breakfast, Nico grabbed a towel to dry up after her. “Alright, well, uh. I was born in Venice, Italy, but I grew up in Los Angeles, then I moved to New York when I was twenty. I took all of my college classes online, so that all the moving around wouldn’t interfere with them, and I’m still waiting on my final grades from this last semester to see if I graduated. And, uh, I’m twenty-three, but we met when I was twenty-two.”

“Twenty-three?” Naomi repeated, eyeing her son. “I didn’t take you as a cradle-robber, William.”

“Mama, please,” Will whined, but perked up as soon as he saw Nico smiling.

��Now, tell me how the two of you met,” Naomi demanded, turning her gaze back to Nico.

Nico paused, biting his lip before he answered. “I was a creative writing major, and I was kind of in a rut with my writing. One of my friends suggested I go on one of those babysitter websites to see if taking care of someone’s kid would give me inspiration.”

“And he was the best babysitter I ever hired,” Will said dreamily as he put a few boxes away on a high shelf.

“You were Bianca’s babysitter?” Naomi asked in a tone that was making Nico nervous, and she raised an eyebrow at him.

“At first, yes,” Nico stuttered.

Will crossed the kitchen to press a kiss to Nico’s cheek before he said, “He won me over with his cooking and great sense of humor.”

“Of course, always about the food with you,” Naomi said, and while Will shot her a hurt look, Nico was starting to like her. “What was it that did him in? Brownies? He can’t say no to brownies.”

“Trust me, I know,” Nico said. “I made him a chocolate lava cake for his birthday.”

Naomi gasped. “I don’t know how he didn’t marry you on the spot.”

“I’m hurt, Mama,” Will said as Nico started to laugh. “I can’t believe this, the two people I love most - besides you, Bi, of course I love you the most - treating me in such a way. I won’t stand for it. C’mon, Bi.” Will took Bianca out of the kitchen, leaving Nico alone with Naomi.

Nico took a breath. He supposed now was as good a time as ever. He checked over his shoulder to make sure that Will had actually left before he cleared his throat and said, “Ms. Solace?”

“Naomi, honey, call me Naomi.”

“Of course, Naomi,” Nico tried again. “This is… This might sound a bit strange and old fashioned, but I was hoping for your permission-- Your blessing to marry your son.”

Naomi shut off the water and set down the sponge she’d been using to scrub dishes. She turned to Nico with a sigh and a, “Honey,” and Nico prepared himself to be let down easy. “You don’t need my permission. And you had my blessing the second you walked into my house and I saw you treating my granddaughter like she was your own. The only permission you need is Will’s, but it seems like you’re already the person he loves most in the world, so I don’t think you’ll have any problems.”

“Thank you, Naomi,” Nico said.

“You’ve got nothing to thank me for,” she told him. “I should be thanking you for taking such good care of them. When Will got that job in New York, I didn’t know how he was going to survive on his own. If it weren’t for you, he would have run himself into the ground for sure.”

“That’s absolutely right,” Nico said.

“Of course it’s right!” Naomi laughed, but calmed herself down quickly, and when she spoke again she used a much quieter voice. “Now, I couldn’t help but notice the rings the two of you have been wearing. Does that mean…?”

Nico couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah, we’re engaged. Not even for a month yet, but I’m really glad that Will brought me here. It was very important for me to get your blessing.”

“You are the sweetest thing,” Naomi told him. “I can’t believe Will was able to find someone so perfect for him, yet here you are.”

“Mama, I thought you were done embarrassing my when I graduated med school,” Will’s voice came from across the room. Nico whipped around to see him leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed and a soft smile across his lips - he looked like he’d been standing there long enough to get comfortable.

“A mother is never done embarrassing her baby,” Naomi said. She bumped Nico with her shoulder and nodded her head towards Will. “Go on, I can finish these on my own.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind--”

“It’s fine, honey.” Naomi plucked the towel out of Nico’s hands and shooed him away.

Will lead Nico into the living room where Bianca was watching TV, and they sat together on the couch. “I can’t believe you asked my mom for her blessing,” Will said quietly as he draped an arm around Nico’s shoulders.

Nico pushed himself about a foot away from him. “What? How much of that did you hear?”

Will hummed. “Just about all of it. About how you’re so old fashioned and need my mother’s blessing to marry me. About how you kept me from running myself into the ground - which I wouldn’t have done, by the way, I would’ve been fine.”

“You would’ve killed yourself and Bianca, but go on.”

“About how you’re perfect.”

“I’m pretty sure that was ‘perfect for you,’ not perfect perfect,” Nico corrected.

“I’m pretty sure you’re perfect.”

Ever since they’d gotten home, Nico had seemed worn down. He didn’t appear to be sleeping much, and he was yawning constantly. He dragged his feet when he walked and he’d consistently been nodding off on the couch, and Will didn’t know he should be concerned or if Nico was just jetlagged.

When Will tried to ask about it, Nico shrugged him off. “I haven’t gotten my exam grades yet,” Nico told him. “I guess I’m just a little worked up over it. I’ll be fine.”

“If you say so,” Will replied, and kissed Nico’s cheek before heading off to work.

He tried to keep his mind off of it while he was working - Nico said he was fine, and Will needed to trust that he knew how to take care of himself. He checked on patients, assisted in surgeries, had lunch with Lou Ellen when she came to the hospital for physical therapy. It was a long day, relaxing compared to most but long nonetheless, and he wanted nothing more than to return home to his fiance and his daughter.

He texted Nico when he left the hospital, and while he usually got a response almost immediately, he wasn’t concerned when the response never came. It probably just meant that Nico was cooking, and just the thought of dinner made Will’s stomach growl. However, when he walked through the door, he didn’t see Nico in the kitchen, and he didn’t smell anything cooking. He saw Bianca sitting at the table with a box of crayons and a stack of coloring books, and she shushed him when he dropped his keys on the counter.

“Nico’s sleeping,” she stage whispered.

Will frowned. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s just sleeping. Do you wanna color with me?”

Will hesitated - should he check on Nico, or leave him to rest since he so clearly needed it? - but ended up sitting next to Bianca at the table and claimed a page in one of her coloring books. His stomach growled once more as he started to color, so he said, “Do you want pizza tonight?”

Nico was woken up by a gentle hand on his arm and a soft voice calling his name. He ground the heels of his palms into his eyes as he sat up, unaware that he’d even fallen asleep, and he definitely wasn’t feeling any more rested than he had earlier.

Will was kneeling on the ground in front of the couch, concern written all over his features. “Are you okay?” he asked, pressing the back of his hand to Nico’s forehead, and Nico was confused.

“Of course I am, why?” Nico responded, tugging Will’s hand away.

“You’ve been asleep since before I got home,” Will told him. “Have you not been sleeping well?”

Nico shrugged, and then, as he’d just remembered something important, jumped to his feet. “I never made dinner.”

“We ordered pizza.”

Nico’s shoulders drooped. “Oh. Okay,” he muttered, hand creeping up to grip at his other wrist. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, I--”

Will snatched Nico’s hand away from his wrist before he could dig his nails into his skin. “You don’t have to apologize, I’m just worried about you.”

“You’ve got enough to worry about, so I should’ve been awake to make dinner,” Nico told him, tugging at Will’s hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Nico--”

The doorbell rang, and Nico squeezed Will’s hands. “I’ll get it,” Nico said, reaching up to peck at Will’s lips before moving away from his fiance.

Will had a surgery to study for the next morning, so after Bianca had gone to bed he’d brought out his laptop and patient notes and reviewed the surgical plan until he could recite it in his sleep. He’d glanced over at Nico once or twice during his studying to catch him staring blankly at whatever show was on TV, and saw that he soon started nodding off.

“Babe,” Will said after Nico’s eyes had been closed for a solid minute. “Don’t you think you’d be more comfortable if you went to bed?”

Nico shook his head a rubbed at his eyes, adjusting himself until he was sitting up straighter on the couch. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Will asked. “Do you want to talk about...something?”

“You’re working. I don’t want to bother you.”

“You’re my fiance. You’re allowed to bother me.”

Nico hunched his shoulders up. “I’m fine.”

“Alright, but when I go to bed in a little while, you’re coming with me.”

Nico grumbled something in reply, and Will went back to work. In another twenty minutes or so, he felt confident enough in his memory and comfortable enough that a quick review before the surgery would be all he needed, and he put his work away. When he turned to his side, he saw Nico fast sleep against the arm of the couch.

Will reached over and brushed a bit of hair behind Nico’s ear. It was getting long enough that Will had started to notice a wavy texture to it - he was going to miss those little waves if Nico ever got a haircut.

“Nico,” he said softly. “It’s time for bed, Darling.”

Nico grunted, but didn’t move.

“C’mon, babe, you know you hate sleeping on this couch,” Will tried again. “I’d carry you if I could.”

Nico made another noise of complaint, though this time he sat up and leaned against Will’s side.

“Oh, no. You’re not falling asleep on me now. Stand up, let’s go.” Will stood up and pulled Nico with him before he draped an arm around Nico’s waist to lead him to their bedroom. Nico was asleep once again as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A short while after Will had fallen asleep, Nico sat upright with a gasp, his hands fisted in the sheets and a ringing in his ears. He didn’t remember most of the dream - just like every other nightmare he’d had since returning home - but he knew that the last thing he saw before he opened his eyes was his father swinging an empty bottle of whiskey straight at his head.

He took a few deep breaths as he scrubbed his hands over his face before carefully rising out of bed. He left the room, shutting the door softly behind him, and headed toward the kitchen for a glass of water. As he went to set the glass in the sink, he saw all the unwashed dishes from dinner and felt a surge of guilt rush through him. He couldn’t cook or clean? How could he expect Will to keep him around?

Nico splashed cold water on his face. Thinking that way would only lead to a shame spiral, and he was only thinking that way because he was tired. He should just...wash all of the dishes, and then he could go to bed. It would be the perfect way to get his mind off of his nightmares, and maybe he would be too tired to have any more dreams.

He was midway through scrubbing one of the plates when the faucet shut off and an arm wrapped around his waist. “Babe. What are you doing.”

“I didn’t do the dishes after dinner,” Nico replied.

“So you thought you would do them at--” Will glanced at the clock on the microwave, “--two-fifteen in the morning?”

“I wasn’t tired,” Nico lied.

“Babe.” Will sighed and dropped his head onto Nico’s shoulder. “I don’t have the time to argue with you. I have a surgery in the morning, and I need to sleep, and I’m not going back to bed without you.”

“I told you, I’m not tired.”

“Come back anyway. It’s better for you to rest even if you’re not going to sleep, they proved it on MythBusters.”

Nico snorted. “Alright, fine.” He set the plate back in the sink and allowed Will to lead him back to bed. He was asleep again in seconds.

“No, no! Please, no!”

Will’s eyes shot open at the sound of Nico’s shouting. He felt his arm being jostled as Nico reached out for him, and soon Nico’s shouts were replaced with sobs. Will couldn’t see him well in the dark, but he felt as Nico clutched at his shirt and tried to hide his face in Will’s chest.

“Nico?” Will questioned, running his fingers through dark, tangled hair.

“I’m sorry,” Nico hiccuped against Will’s chest. “I didn’t want to wake you, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Will told him, wrapping his arms around Nico’s shaking form. “What’s wrong, what happened?”

“Bia, it-- She was in the woods, and then in the road, and there were headlights and it wasn’t Bia anymore, it was Bi-- Bianca, I watched that car hit her and--” He choked on his words, clawing at Will’s shoulders and trying to get a grip on something.

“Darling,” Will whispered, holding his fiance closer.

Nico took a breath and continued. “And then I-I was at my dad’s, and someone knocked on the door so I answered it. It was that asshole drunk, b-but Bia wasn’t there. I-it was you, W-Will, and you were d-dead. There was s-so m-m-much blood and I could see your eyes, Will--” He heaved a breath, and Will pushed him up until they were both sitting. He switched on the bedside lamp and reached up to frame Nico’s face with his hands.

“Darling, look at me,” Will told him. “Look at my eyes, sweetheart, I’m fine. I’m alive, you’re alive, Bi’s alive. You’re just overtired and stressed, but there’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” He pulled Nico against his chest once again and stroked his hand up and down Nico’s back. “Just try to relax, Darling, everything’s alright.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nico whispered. “I… I didn’t want to worry you, and I know you have surgery, but I--” Nico hiccuped again and wiped at the tears still streaming from his eyes. “I’m so scared that you’ll leave me. Please don’t leave me. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you, Will, please don’t leave me.”

Will tightened his hold on Nico, running his fingers through Nico’s hair once more. “I won’t, Nico, I promise, I promise.” He pressed a kiss to the top of Nico’s had, and held him until Nico’s sobs had finally quieted down. “Let’s lay back down, Darling. It’s still the middle of the night and you and I both need to rest.” He relaxed his hold and allowed Nico to settled back down against the pillows before he shut off the light. Will laid down beside Nico and wrapped him up in his arms once more. “I love you, Nico. I’m not going anywhere.”

Will woke up for the third and final time of the morning with the sun shining into the room and his fiance still asleep beside him.

He smiled, appreciating Nico’s peaceful expression, until the alarm clock on his nightstand began to buzz. Will groaned, rolling over and slamming his hand down on the alarm, and turned back to see Nico’s eyes blinking open slowly. Will wrapped an arm around Nico’s waist, pulling him close and tucking his face against Nico’s neck.

“I don’t wanna go to work today,” Will complained against Nico’s skin. Nico hummed, fingers reaching up to tangle in the hairs on the back of Will’s neck. “What if,” Will started, fingers drawing mindless shapes on Nico’s lower back, “I stay home today, and we don’t leave this spot?”

Nico grinned. “I would love to,” he answered as Will started biting gently at his neck. “There’s just one problem. You’ve got a surgery to do today, and a daughter who’s gonna be up in no time that definitely won’t leave us on our own all day.”

Will groaned again, flopping onto his back with a pout. “Why are you always right?”

Nico leaned over him, planting a hand on his chest and swooped down for a kiss. “Someone has to be.”

Will stroked a hand across Nico’s cheek and brushed his hair behind his ear. “Are you feeling better this morning?”

Nico’s smiled turned forced. “A little. You were probably right that I just needed a good night’s sleep.” He lowered himself back to lay beside Will, turned to face him as Will rolled on his side as well.

“I’ve got some time before I need to get ready to go,” Will told him. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Nico dropped his gaze. After a moment or two, he said, “That wasn’t the only nightmare. They’ve been… I’ve had at least one every night since we got home. Usually I wouldn’t even remember them, but I think talking to my dad must’ve...reopened an old wound. Last night… That was so much worse.”

“They’re just nightmares, Darling,” Will reminded him. “I’ll keep you safe, so there’s nothing to worry about.”

Lou Ellen returned to the hospital twice a week for physical therapy. She would text Will as soon as she arrived at the hospital and would wait for his response to see if he would meet her for lunch. Sometimes it was before lunch, sometimes after, and sometimes Will was too busy to meet up with her at all, but no matter what, Lou always got a response.

Except for this time. She’d texted him as soon as she reached the hospital, and checked her phone repeatedly until the start of her appointment. Afterwards, she still hadn’t received a response, and ended up trying to call Will. When there was no answer there either, Lou Ellen went up to the surgical floor of the hospital and went to the nearest information desk to ask if Will had shown up to work that day.

“Doctor Solace?” the nurse asked, smiling nervously. “He… He’s here today, yes, but he’s a bit...preoccupied at the moment. Would you like me to...leave a message?”

Lou frowned. “No, that’s alright, I’ll just talk to him the next time I’m here. Can you tell me if he’s scheduled to be here on Thursday?”

The nurse started to look panicked, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to answer. “Well, um. I can’t… I’m not at liberty to give out anyone’s schedules, but you can always call to check in on him.”

“Alright, thank you,” Lou said, and turned away from the desk. She tried not to overthink the way the nurse had acted - call to check in on him? That sounded more like she was talking about a patient than a doctor.

Around two, Nico texted Will asking if he’d be off work in time to pick a few things up from the store before dinner. After half an hour without an answer, Nico wasn’t worried. Will was usually busy, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t run to the store himself.

The two returned home, and Nico and Bianca put away the groceries before Nico made Bianca a snack. Around five, he called Will, and there was no answer. To Will’s voicemail, Nico said, “Hey, babe, call me back if you’re gonna be home in time for dinner, okay? Love you.”

Will didn’t call back.

Nico and Bianca had spaghetti for dinner and watched TV for a little while before it was time for Bianca to go to bed. It took more convincing than usual for Nico to get Bianca to stay in her room; she never wanted to sleep before Will got home to kiss her goodnight, and tonight was no different. Nico told her a bedtime story, one about a magic pirate ship (because honestly, Nico could never get enough of pirate stories), and promised her that as soon as Will got home, he would come say goodnight. He kissed Bianca on the forehead and turned off the light when he left the room.

He didn’t try calling Will again before he went to bed.

At this point in his life, Nico was too used to sleeping with someone beside him, so it was difficult to fall asleep in the first place, and after the couple of weeks he’d just had, he wasn’t exactly excited to sleep on his own. When he finally did manage to fall asleep, he was restless.

He tossed and turned all night, waking up fully around three and still feeling an empty bed next to him. He finally felt worry set in like a rock in his stomach, rolling out of bed and wandering the house for a few minutes for any sign that Will had come home, even for a moment, but there was nothing. No keys on the counter, no change of scrubs in the hamper, no tan, freckled body asleep on the couch or in the bed in the guest room.

Nico returned to his and Will’s shared bedroom, unplugging his phone from where it sat on the nightstand, and scrolled through his contacts, hitting the call button next to Will’s name.

“Will?” Nico said softly to his fiance’s voicemail. “I know you’re probably busy and I’m probably worrying for nothing, but-- But I am worrying. As soon as you get this, can you please call me or text me or something?” He paused. “I love you, Sunshine.” And he stopped recording.

Cecil was pacing in the hall outside one of the ICU rooms, reading and rereading everything the chart in his hands had to tell him. Each time he flipped through the pages, he tried to skip over the details of the accident, but his eyes couldn’t help but read over every word. He would remind himself each time that he was looking for something. Reading this over again would just make the panic worse, but he couldn’t help it.

Emergency Contact, he reminded himself again and again. That’s what he was looking for. Why couldn’t he find a single emergency contact?

His frantic reading was interrupted by somebody shouting his name down the hall, and a wheelchair flew down the hall so fast that he thought he was going to be hit.

“Lou?” he asked, slamming the chart closed and hiding the name on the front. “What are you doing here? Why are you in a wheelchair?”

“I’m here for physical therapy; they haven’t cleared me from the wheelchair yet,” she answered, peering around him to look into the room they were in front of, until Cecil blocked her line of sight. “What are you doing here? Outside what looks to be a grown man’s room when you’re a pediatric surgeon?”

Cecil froze, eyes darting through the glass doors to the man lying in the bed before his gaze fell back to Lou Ellen in front of him.

“He’s in there, isn’t he?” Lou asked quietly.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lied, holding the chart close to his chest.

“He’s not answering my texts, he didn’t come to see me for lunch after physical therapy,” Lou told him. “I had him paged this morning and nobody would tell me where he was.”

Cecil remained silent.

“Give me the chart, Cecil,” Lou demanded.

“I could get fired for that!”

“Then tell me he’s not in there!” She pointed toward the glass separating them from the man in the bed.

Cecil ducked his head, unable to maintain eye contact any longer.

Lou’s breath hitched. “Why doesn’t he have anyone here for him? Didn’t you call anybody?”

“He doesn’t have any emergency contacts. He never listed any when he moved here.”

“Then find his phone and look for one.”

“I can’t just look through his stuff, that’s a violation of patient privacy!”

“He’s your best friend, Cecil, find his phone and call somebody.”

Bianca was cranky, and Nico knew that the only thing that would get her to behave herself was for Will to come home. Nico tried convincing her that Will came home after she went to sleep but had to leave again in the middle of the night, but the he knew the bags under his eyes and the tired tone of his voice couldn’t have convinced anyone.

Eventually, Nico called Hazel. He needed a break, and he wanted to find Will, so he asked his sister to watch Bianca for a few hours. Hazel had agreed, but Bianca had screamed at him when he told her they were leaving - she didn’t want to go anywhere until she saw Will, so Nico had to practically beg to get her dressed and out the door.

He pulled Hazel aside and hugged her as soon as they entered her apartment, which had her worried even more than she already was. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she returned the embrace.

“Will’s not answering my calls,” Nico muttered. “I’m worried about him. Is it too much for me to go to the hospital and try to find him?”

“How long has it been? A Day? Two?” Nico nodded. “Oh, Nico, I’m sure he’s just busy. Go find him, and let me know when you’re on your way back.” She kissed his cheek before guiding him back toward the door.

When Nico sat down in his car, he contemplated how comfortable of a pillow his steering wheel would make. He was still so exhausted, and he wanted nothing more to fall asleep and wake up beside Will like this whole thing had been just another bad dream.

He turned the key and drove out of the parking lot, heading toward the hospital. He hadn’t even gone a mile before he phone started ringing in his pocket, and Nico struggled to fish it out while driving.

He nearly dropped the phone when he saw the name on the screen. He pulled over onto the shoulder as he answered. “Will?”

“Is this Nico?” a voice that was very much not Will’s responded.

“Yes,” Nico said, surprised he could get the word out when he suddenly felt like he was going to throw up any second.

“My name is Doctor Cecil Markowitz,” the voice continued with a stable facade, though Nico could hear it shaking. “There’s been an accident.”

Nico choked on his words. There were so many thoughts running through his head, yet at the same time his mind was blank.

“Will is currently in the ICU,” Cecil continued. “I can tell you more once you get here. Can you… Are you available? To come up to the hospital?”

“I’m on my way,” Nico whispered.

“Ask for directions to the ICU at the front desk,” Cecil told him. “I’ll see you soon.”

Nico hung up the phone, and stared down at it for a moment. He couldn’t find it in himself to move until his stomach turned over, and Nico had to throw open the driver’s side door to vomit on the side of the road. Thankfully, he’d been too worried to eat much at breakfast, but that just meant that he sat hunched over in his seat for a few minutes, body trying to empty an already exhausted stomach. When he could move again, Nico rinsed out his mouth with a bottle of water he found in the door, and started to drive once more.

He thought his body might revolt against him again as he pulled into the parking lot, but he took a second to breathe, to try to calm himself down, and readied himself for whatever he was about to see.

The exterior doors slid open when he walked up. The lights in the lobby were too bright and the receptionist too happy. Her smile didn’t fade as she offered him directions to the ICU.

He shuffled down the hall, passing the waiting room attached to the ER, feeling his stomach clench as he remembered sitting there, waiting for Will to arrive after he’d almost poisoned their daughter--

He stopped. He staggered toward the wall, leaning against it for support as his vision started to blur. He leaned back against the wall, blinking up at the ceiling in hopes of persuading the tears back into his eyes before his legs practically gave out from under him and he slid down the wall. He hung his head between his knees, hoping to stop his head from spinning.

Nico heard the sound of wheels gliding across the floor, though he couldn’t get his legs to move out of the way.

“Hey, man,” a voice said above him, “are you alright?”

He lifted his head slowly to keep his head from spinning even more, and was met with a woman about his age with purple hair and a frown on her face.

“Oh god,” she said, expression falling from polite concern to devastation. “You’re Nico, aren’t you?”

He nodded, wiping under his eyes with the back of his hand. “How do you know that?”

“I’ve seen pictures of you,” she told him with a sad smile, and held out a hand. “I’m Lou Ellen. Your boy really likes to show you off.”

Nico’s breath hitched as he reached up, but hesitated before taking her hand. “Have you seen him?”

Lou Ellen shook her head. “They won’t let me in, but I’m friends with some of the doctors. They keep telling me he’ll be fine, but I’d kinda like to see for myself. I don’t suppose if I show you the way, you’ll let me in with you?”

Nico nodded. “Yes, please.” He took Lou’s hand and rose to his feet. He stepped behind her wheelchair to give the illusion that he would push her down the hall, but he really just needed something to help him stay standing.

As soon as Nico saw the first sign telling them that they were in the ICU, his legs turned almost gave out from under him, even with the support of Lou’s wheelchair. His heart started hammering in his chest and his vision started blurring once more, though he wasn’t sure whether that was from the nerves or another round of tears forming.

“Lou, I don’t know if I can do it,” he choked out.

“You’re gonna be fine, Nico, and so is he. He’s just knocked out from the surgery, that’s what Cecil said. He’ll wake up soon.”

They continued down the hall, and Nico noticed one doctor loitering around one of the rooms. He looked in their direction, stomping toward them the second he realized who it was. “Lou, I told you, you have to get off this floor--” he paused, seeming to notice Nico for the first time. “You-- You’re Nico?”

Nico nodded, recognizing the voice from the phone. “Cecil, right?”

He nodded back. “Thank God you’re here,” he said. “Now Lou and I have a reason to go in there--” He stopped himself again, eyes widening. “Unless you don’t want us there, of course.”

“It’s fine,” Nico told him, and looked around anxiously. “Where is he?”

“Down here.” Cecil led them a few rooms down the hall before stopping to open one of the doors, holding it open for Nico to walk through.

His heart stopped when he entered the room, eyes landing on his battered fiance and feeling a sob build in his throat. Will had a dark bruise underneath one eye, and a propped up leg in a cast. One arm was held across his chest in a cast. Nico moved toward the bed, dropping heavily into the bedside chair and taking Will’s uninjured hand in his own.

“Where’s his ring?” Nico asked, thumb brushing over the back of Will’s hand as he glanced up at Cecil across the room.

“We usually don’t allow the patients to wear jewelry while they’re here,” Cecil explained. “Especially rings and bracelets, because they can interfere with the blood pressure readings.”

Lou wheeled herself toward a table in the corner of the room, picking up a plastic bag. “He doesn’t care about that, Cecil, he wants his ring.” She propelled herself back over to Nico, handing him the bag. “This is all of his stuff.”

“Stuff?” Nico repeated, taking the bag and holding it in his lap.

“Clothes, shoes, wallet,” Cecil said. “Everything he had with him when he came in.” He jumped slightly, as if remembering something, and reached into his pocket. “Except for this.” He pulled out a phone with a shattered screen, handing it over to Nico.

“Do you know...what happened?” Nico asked.

Cecil scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “I’m, uh, not actually Will’s doctor, I’m just his friend. So I don’t have all the information. I know it was a car accident, but I don’t really know the details. He has fractured ribs, a broken collarbone, and a crushed foot, but he’s already had surgeries reset all of his bones. He should be cleared as soon as he wakes up.”

“And when will that be?”

Cecil sighed. “We don’t know.”

Nico bit his lip and stared down at his fiance. “Can I have some time alone?”

Cecil nodded. “Of course.” He turned to leave, holding the door open for Lou on their way out.

Nico scooted his chair closer to the bedside, digging through the bag with one hand and still holding Will’s with the other.

“You should’ve tried harder to convince me to stay in bed,” he said softly, fingers closing around the ring and dragging it out.

“Bianca’s upset that you haven’t been home,” he continued, cautiously sliding the ring onto the hand in the sling, careful not to move Will’s arm at all as he did so. “She started singing that song yesterday, the one that makes me think of you.”

He dropped the bag of Will’s clothes, clutching at Will’s uninjured hand with both of his. “You know which one I’m talking about,” he said, and started to sing shakily. “You are my Sunshine, my only Sunshine--”

He started to sob.

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[imnevergonnagiveyouup]

@breselin and I had a very nice long discussion about Cloud’s and Seph’s dynamic and the approach they’ve been taking with it thus far. Cloud’s current state is obvious to many of the current characters that have been shown to us thus far, and that’s that he isn’t okay. I say he isn’t okay loosely because even they don’t have an idea or a hint as to why that okay is even in there. We really dove into Seph’s hold on Cloud. In my head, this new extended trailer was a continuation of the state of play one and in the state of play one when the Guard Scorpion is defeated they realize that there’s a bomb they’ve placed and it’s about to go off so they should probably get out of there and pronto. The bomb goes off(?) [question mark here because they even state a disclaimer that the footage is subject to change and/or isn’t actually ripped straight from the game] and then Cloud is by himself, that was something I noticed immediately, Barret was no longer by his side how he was when they both realized that the bomb should be going off any minute now. And then Seph shows up and says that cryptic line of if he’s able to handle seeing the planet die to Cloud. Cloud just stares at him and glares obviously, then nothing, that’s it. In the OG, given how it was coded, not many things within it were properly deleted or deleted at all, they were “stored/hidden” within the coding of the game given how oddly scripted it was back in the day. People who mod games, especially these old ones have been able to dig up scenes that were “hidden/recycled” within and there’s actually scenes and instances where that very same thing that happened in the trailer happens to Cloud in these “recycled” scenes:

Seph intentionally isolates Cloud on this one just like it happened on that state of play trailer. Very outdated in our day in age but watching the scene actually play out and happen while you’re playing you can feel the impact it has on the lore and on a player’s perspective, because this isn’t at all too detailed, it’s just as cryptic as it has been like it has gotten shown to us so far in these trailers/extended trailers. So I was really hoping for them to take these and go for it because it was going to add so much power and fuel to an already cool story and they did.  Now on to Cloud and Seph REMAKE wise, Seph is terrifying and I’m so happy that they’re not shying away from reminding us that he’s terrifying and he’s someone you should be careful with ESPECIALLY if you’re Cloud. In the state of play trailer I argue that Cloud was triggered by the fire, by the explosion, his mind unconsciously alluding him back to the incident and that ALSO made the S(J) cells within him react which gave Seph enough power to actually take hold of him at that point. His mind weakened for a moment, it lost focus, the cells reacted to the fact that Seph’s still around, he’s still present and harvesting himself within the lifestream (I KNOW IT’S BOLD OF ME TO SAY THIS PART CAUSE THE CHANCES OF CHANGING THAT ARE HIGH BUT FOR THE SAKE OF THIS POST HUMOR ME WITH THE OG OKAY) where he’s just growing stronger by the second. He takes hold of him and there he is. Cloud evidently snaps out of it as it’s shown further on, and I ASSUME there’s going to be occasions within that one (1) time where we’ll see him struggling against Seph again, not just that one time before the point in time that we saw in the e/3 trailer because when Cloud says “you’re not real!” in his tone alone (THANK YOU CODY A+ JOB ALREADY MY MAN) you can hear that he’s tired, he’s exasperated and shaken. So breselin and I both met eye to eye on this that Seph’s power, most specifically his “illusions,” aren’t a “in the moment” type of attack, it’s something he just does once and it sticks till he gives it the “it’s enough” or Cloud is strong enough to will himself out of that clutch Seph has on him. I also want to argue that outside sources might have the ability to have him snap out of these trances though, WE’LL SEE BUT I’M SHOOTING THAT ONE OUT THERE.

In the recent extended trailer you really get a taste of just how strong his hold is on Cloud at that point and Cloud’s not been able to snap himself out of it just yet, because Seph literally fakes an entire setting where everything is on fire around them when nothing is, things look like shit yeah but there’s absolutely no fire. Imagine that freaking mind game knowing EXACTLY just what he did to his hometown. In order to keep this consistent flow he has on Cloud going he snaps out things that he knows will get his mind spinning in the direction that /he/ wants. Tries to order him around, tells him he needs to leave, to do it in the least as a favor to his person, which in all honesty Cloud had every right to be pissed off about the way that was told to him, because what Cloud DOES isn’t done at Seph’s beck and call so his outburst, dissing him off and wanting to slash him in half even though he knows he isn’t real (note how angry he got, how easily Cloud gets swayed/tipped/directed to a direction by his emotions and adrenaline, ESPECIALLY when it’s by someone who feels they have a say over him and he detests). The illusion is gone and Cloud is defeated, tired, exhausted when reality sets in, but Seph leaves knowing he got the reaction HE wanted from him and even still has the gal to tell him what to do. To hold on to that, because essentially that will pave the path he wants Cloud to take for his sake. I’ve made a post about it before........ ..like a year ago but I stand by my argument that Cloud’s always known something is off with him, that something isn’t sitting right and this pretty much stamps that in the front page, he knows something is wrong, but he doesn’t address it, he doesn’t know how to go about it, or how to tell anybody really. And I feel like it’ll take him a bit to tell the others as well even, to be open about what’s been going on with him, but that he will, he will eventually.

[fanfictrashdump]

Universe in a Jar, 6 - Phase 4 fic

Recap: Some days ago, I reblogged this post about the magical trio. And then my brain went off on a monumental tangent and, I wrote Universe in a Jar.

Characters: Stephen Strange, Loki, Wanda Maximoff, Wong, OC

Rating: T?

Warnings: Language! Mentions of sexual encounters, sarcasm, terrible storytelling, and typos prob.

Summary: Baby-sitting beings arguably more powerful than him goes awry for Doctor Strange. He knows one person who can possibly keep them isolated and out of trouble. Well, he knew someone who could… he hasn’t seen them in decades and for stupid reasons.

Previous Chapter

WARNINGS: Language, fighting, mentions of death, Stephen with a kitten

XX

Stephen dragged his sneakers through the loose dirt of the beaten path as he meandered, handful of tools hanging limply from his hands. Every now and then, he'd stop and take a survey of the land before continuing for no other reason than he could. He was delaying his arrival at the small, cornflower blue barn just beyond the hill. Despite the fact that he had been doing mindless farm chores non-stop since they arrived at the Hale Estate and this was the first time Seph had ever physically asked him to help with something. Persephone needed him to take a look at the tractor, a small one for her moderate crops. He knew it was merely a ploy to get him out of the house and away from the ticking time-bomb of a witch, but he was dreading the hell out of it, all the same. It wasn't because he thought he couldn't do it–he grew up on a farm in a small town of very rural Nebraska; he knew how to fix a tractor. It wasn't even that he thought his hands would betray him (not that she had even considered that a possibility. Seph knew that he was the most dexterous of the lot, shaking hands and all). He just really hated it.

As he approached the well-worn wooden structure, he shuffled the tools to fish the key to the padlock out of his pocket. With a loud clang, the lock sprung open, evidence of needing a little greasing apparent in its ear-shattering metallic whine as it turned open to be removed. With little more than a huff, he tugged one of the leaves open to have a staring contest with the four-wheeled piece of equipment that he'd most likely lose.

Then, there was a noise.

Tossing the wrenches and clamps onto a nearby work table, he shuffled around the small shelter, looking under tables and in buckets, until he found the source in the wheel well of the tractor. Smiling, he kneeled on the floor before sitting cross-legged, watching the wheel well with interest until out from the shadows, a little tuft of ginger emerged.

"I don't suppose you're the mechanic," he jested, only to be replied by a determined meow. "Tractor elf, then? Here to fix things while we sleep?"

The ginger tabby, sure as any creature he had ever encountered in this or any Universe, padded across the dirt floor and clambered into his lap. It took less than a minute for the kitten to begin purring or for it to continually bump its head affectionately against his awkwardly jarring hands. Stephen was careful, a notch forming between his brows as he focused on gentleness and applying appropriate pressure, in not suddenly squeezing. Not that the kitten was paying any mind. If anything, the sudden spasms in his hands were met with increased rubbing and the occasional batting of one tufted paw on his hand, pulling it closer to its dirt-stained face.

"I've known you for forty three years." Stephen glanced over his shoulder to find Seph leaning against the open barn door, arms crossed, grin on her face. "Every single time you're sent to do something you don't want to, you always end up with an animal in your lap. How does that even happen, Stephen?"

He shrugged. "I'm just a lucky guy, Peep."

The kitten had scaled up his t-shirt and anchored against his chest. One paw rested on his chin while his hands held the creature up against him. Even from several feet away, Seph could hear the loud, buzzing drone of purring of the cat's delight, warming her insides at this portrait of happiness.

A mew of contentment echoed in the barn, the sorcerer having buried his fingers in the orange fur and tickled down its spine. Stephen chuckled in response, making an altogether too soft noise at his new friend. "I didn't know you kept a barn cat."

"I don't. That little guy is from the Smith's farm down the road. Their barn cat, Cooper, was knocked up. This little stowaway comes and goes. Never lets me touch him, though." Her amusement was apparent at watching Stephen Vincent Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, Surly Man Extraordinaire all cuddled up to an orange tabby, melting under its quiet meows. She dropped to her knees beside him, brushing her hand under the cat's chin and quickly realizing it was not her touch the kitten wanted, as it burrowed further into Stephen's chest. A little laugh escaped her. "I think you have a barn cat."

"I don't have a barn." The response was automatic.

She snorted. "Yeah, you do. I can see it from here."

Stephen lifted his gaze from orange fur to the run down barn across the way and then the house it lived behind and sighed, dropping his chin back onto the kitten as in comfort. He didn't exactly know what to say to that, if anything at all, but Seph didn't let him suffer for long.

"What did you make of the house?"

The question prompted him to close his eyes and fidget in place. "I didn't go in. I sat on the porch for hours, held the key. I couldn't do it."

"Stephen, that's your–"

"I know. I know. It's just… their ghosts… I can't–"

She drew an arm around him and pulled him into her body, relishing in the little sigh and the untensing of his shoulders as he settled into the crook of her neck. "Empty houses are not that scary. I promise." He nodded minutely. "I'll go with you."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I'll do it, anyway."

A stretch of silence surrounded them, broken only by the white noise of purring. "Are you sleeping with Loki?"

Seph laughed, turning her head to kiss Stephen's crown. "Are you?"

His brows pulled together and his mouth twisted. "Not regularly, no."

"Ditto."

"So, you have."

"Have you?"

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "Look, I'm not judging you, I'm just–"

"Comparing yourself. Which is stupid–"

"I know, I shouldn't–"

She continued as if he had said nothing. "–because I also sleep with women. There's no chance in hell you two break the top ten."

Stephen scoffed, though the corner of his mouth turned up. The kitten in his arms shuffled with the vibration and settled back into another comfortable position. "Do you have to be such a dick?"

"Learn how to use yours and I wouldn't have to." With a grin, she kissed his crown again. "You know you have to sleep with me to be ranked, right?"

A dusting of red covered his cheeks. "Yeah."

"Just making sure."

The little ball of orange fluff stretched luxuriously, untangling from Stephen's arms just enough to wander and drape itself across the place where both of the humans' thighs touched. Seph gently traced one of the fuzzy ears with her fingers, watching them twitch at the contact before the feline pushed its face firmer against her touch.

Stephen could only smile to himself. He could understand the feeling–initial apprehension, weary observation, eventual surrender. Persephone was an intense person and sometimes it was scary to exist within her same aura until she showed that she was there to be gentle. He supposed he could always feel that she was a little different. Her powers made sense to him now, and he could admit that his child's intuition was not great at discerning that the odd feeling he perceived when she was in a mood was not apprehension or annoyance but power.

"I've messed up a lot of stuff with sex." The words slipped out before he had even noticed them.

"Oh, I am well aware. I went to college with you. And med school."

A wry laugh echoed in the barn. "Such a dick."

"Stephen, we were each other's first kiss. First naked look at the opposite sex. First to tell when anything remotely interesting happened to us. And then, we fell into a world of magic and aliens. I think we'd survive." Stephen remained quiet beside her, merely shuffling a little further into the warmth of her half-embrace, making her smile secretively at the softness of the action. "You know she didn't mean it, right? Implying that we were being useless."

He nodded a bit. "I know. She's just upset about her family."

"She doesn't know you. She doesn't know how much it hurt or how their ghosts haunt you. You also didn't have to go that hard on her."

"I know, but what was I supposed to do, Peep?"

"Tell her that you know exactly where's she's coming from. You know her pain better than anyone. Why is it so hard to make that vulnerability known?"

He straightened up, gaze falling to the far corner of the barn to avoid looking at her. "Because who would fucking trust me, then?"

Seph snorted. "Honestly? A lot more people. Half the people we went to school thought you were either a robot or a sociopath. Being an unfeeling thing doesn't lend you credibility, it makes you look like a maniac."

"I don't think that's–" A crash made the two of them start. "What was that?"

She shook her head. "I don't know." She gently pried the kitten off their legs and set it down on the barn floor before jumping to her feet. "Sorry, buddy. Noises need attending. You can catch a nap later."

She waited for Stephen to similarly right himself before the two took off in a sprint towards the house. The pair slammed the kitchen door open to find everything in a disarray. Tables upturned, flowers on the floor, knickknacks broken and a dozen or so people in black, military style uniforms fighting against Wanda and Loki.

"What the fuck is going on?" Persephone yelled over the sounds over fighting.

"Former employers, long story," Loki hissed through gritted teeth.

Seph watched as Loki turned one of their glowing batons against the soldier to presumably electrocute them, only to give a startled gasp when they disappeared in a cloud of stardust.

"Little help, Seph!" Stephen grunted, trying to subdue one intruder while the Cloak kept another off his back. She stood frozen in panic. He did a double-take on her still form. "Pretend they're me and try to kill them!"

For a moment she blinked at him in surprise before another growled chorus of her name roused her. Despite almost killing Stephen several times within the course of the month, Persephone was not good at managing that part of her abilities on command. And, even when she did, the abilities were fleeting, at best. Concentrating, she latched on to whatever feelings of rage and desperation she could scrounge up, feeling the world slip away from her as her eyes began to glow. The two soldiers attacking the Sorcerer were suddenly surrounded in a glass prison. Wanda had four soldiers strung up from red threads of magic like marionettes and slowly moved them across the room where they joined Seph's prisoners. Loki, deciding he had had enough of niceties, was going around the living room, wielding a baton like a sword and dispatching of anyone who came too close to him.

"Are you OK?"

She flinched at Stephen's hand on her shoulder, her eyes still fixed on the boxes with rapt attention.

"Peep, talk to me."

"I'm OK." Her voice sounded both hollow and too dynamic, echoing eerily.

Strange nodded. "You know how I told you earlier not to open the veil? Well, maybe disregard that and throw these guys elsewhere?"

There was a beat of silence before she responded. "I don't have to." She clapped her hands together and both boxes collapsed into nothingness. '

Stephen swallowed thickly, squeezing her shoulder once to try and ground her. "Where'd you–?"

"Antarctica. They might die." She said it so matter-of-fact that it was almost worrying.

"I assure you," Loki started, "they won't. They will be found within a few minutes, if not already."

"Hey." Stephen bent at the knees to level his eyes to hers, though she stared right through him. "Let go of it. You're OK." She blinked at him but her expression turned from blank to furrowed brow. "That's it. Come back." He rubbed up and down her arms, feeling the air shift around him like oxygen was coming back into the room. He looked up at Loki and Wanda. "Do you know where they got in from? This place is warded to the teeth, I find it hard to believe they found a crack."

"Are you telling them or shall I, dear?" Loki offered with a wide smile that didn't quite catch their eyes.

Wanda fidgeted before groaning. "They knocked at the door. I opened without checking."

"It's OK." Seph leaned against Stephen, clenching her eyes shut against the migraine starting to brew at her temple. "It's happened to me before. Not with anyone who wants to kill me but, y'know, religious groups who make me want to kill myself. I have–have contingencies." The last of her words came out slurred.

"You're not looking so good, Seph." The witch rushed over to help her sit on the sofa, full mothering mode on.

"I think I just overdid it." She sank into the cushions, letting out a steady breath before trying to get back up. Stephen promptly pushed her back down. "I need to move the house."

"You're not doing moving of any kind right now." Persephone frowned at what she had deemed his doctor voice, though was having trouble deciding which of the two Stephens was the one she needed to be glaring at.

Loki frowned. "Strange?" He got a hum of acknowledgment back, the sorcerer too busy pretending he wasn't worrying over Seph. "Who's that on your jeans?"

"What?" Stephen looked away from the sofa and glanced down. Hanging off the bottom hem of his right pantleg, a tiny ball of orange fur batted at the playfully swishing Cloak around his shoulders.

"That's his barn cat," Seph supplied, a drunken giggle in her voice.

"Precious." Stephen rolled his eyes at the glittering smile of the demigod, though it turned into more of a wide-eyed stare when he continued, "Didn't know Midgard kept Flerkens."

Wanda tilted her head. "What's a–oooh, that's different." She grimaced at the split jaw and tentacle-like features attached to the mouth, batting at the Cloak.

"Stephen," Seph started, "I take it back. I'm not OK, I'm hallucinating."

Strange drew a deep breath, closing his eyes and letting the air filling his lungs soothe him. "No, mom. I don't want to be a farmer. I want to be a doctor and move to New York city. And now you got a fucking alien following you around, you dipshit," he muttered angrily, before bending down. "Hey, no eating the Cloak!" The tentacles retracted, jaw fused back together and a kitten was once more sitting on the carpet. "I should've stayed on the fucking farm."

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 26}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta awoke with a pounding headache and the need to vomit, even though she was fully aware her stomach was completely emptied out. She began to shift on the mattress, but froze when she realized that a heavy arm was draped across her waist.

Behind her, Cassian was sleeping soundly, spooned up against her.

Stay.

She remembered asking that of him the night before, remembered everything from the night before.

She had been drunk, horribly drunk.

They had fought.

She had tried to sleep with him.

She had vomited all over the kitchen.

He had cleaned it up.

He had cleaned her up.

He had carried her to bed.

He had stayed.

She hadn’t deserved for him to stay.

Carefully and slowly, Nesta took Cassian’s hand and removed it from her body before dragging herself quietly out of the bed and sneaking out of the room.

She had been so fucking irresponsible the night before, shouldn’t have ever tried to drive here, yet here she was. No wonder Cassian had been so pissed.

She planned on getting a quick cup of coffee to settle her stomach and sneaking out, but as she found Elain in the kitchen, she knew that was no longer possible.

Her sister, never one for anger, raised an eyebrow. “You owe me for my landscaping.”

Nesta cringed and dropped into a seat at the end of the table. Her head fell into her hands with a smack. “I know, I’m sorry.”

A cup of coffee appeared in front of her and Nesta did nothing but breathe in the life-changing scent for a minute, her forehead still pressed into her hand.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Elain said, leaning against the counter. “I love having you here. But as far as I knew, Cassian was staying here because you were at the house. Imagine my surprise when I find both of your vehicles in my driveway this morning.”

Nesta cringed, yet again.

“And the bush by my mailbox flattened,” Elain added, sipping from her steaming mug.

Nesta groaned, her head falling against the tabletop. “I fucked up, I get it.” There was no malice in her voice, only exhaustion.

The chair across from her was pulled out and Elain sat down with a sigh. “You know I’m not letting you leave until we talk about this, right?”

Nesta huffed. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Elain sighed. “The fact that you showed up at my house at midnight, drunker than you’ve been since college, to fight with Cassian?”

Nesta looked up at her.

“At least, that’s my husband’s version,” Elain said, watching her sister. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

Nesta leaned back in her chair and shook her head, slowly. She fiddled with the fabric around her thighs, only now realizing that she was in Cassian’s shirt.

He had taken her dirty dress off and replaced it with something clean, something of his.

“I don’t even know where to begin,” Nesta said, simply.

“How about promising me you’ll never be stupid enough to get behind the wheel while drunk again?” Elain asked, a slight edge to her voice. “The last thing I need is you getting in an-.”

Her words dropped off and she shook her head, sipping from her mug to avoid the word that Nesta knew was meant to come next.

Accident.

A newfound guilt flooded Nesta’s stomach. She felt like she was going to puke all over again. How could she do that, after all that had happened? After what had happened to Feyre and Rhysand?

“I fucked up,” she said, again, and leaned across the table to take Elain’s hand. “I was drunk, I made a poor decision in the heat of the moment because I was pissed, and I was irresponsible. I know that, and trust me, I am full of regret and feel like a fucking idiot this morning. I promise, Lainy, that I’ll never make that mistake again.”

Elain looked at her for a moment before her eyes softened and she nodded. “Good. I believe you. Now, care to tell me why you made such a dumbass decision to begin with?”

Dumbass. Elain rarely swore.

“Cassian and I had sex in the store room last night,” she sighed, not looking at Elain.

“You what?” Her voice raised an octave.

“Shh,” she said, glancing around her to the living room beyond. “I don’t know how exactly it happened, but it did. I went in there for some air, he followed me, and we got into it. Next thing I know, my back is against the far wall, he’s buried inside of me, and I’m halfway to an earth shattering orgasm.”

Elain had stilled, her mug midway to her lips as she stared at her sister. She repeated, “You what?”

“I don’t need a lecture if that’s what you’re building up to,” Nesta snapped.

Elain sighed, setting her mug down on the table. “It’s either a lecture or silence.”

Nesta just shook her head.

“Nesta, that man is madly in love with you,” Elain said, lecturing, anyway. Nesta stared at the table. “And you love him, too. This…unhealthy need to push everything and everyone away that makes you happy is going to make you nothing but miserable in the end and, I’m sorry, but I’m not going to let you be miserable.”

Nesta shook her head. “Feyre wouldn’t want—.”

“No,” Elain interrupted, her voice going harder than Nesta typically heard it. “Feyre would want you to be happy. She’s gone, Nesta.” Her eyes lined with tears as she reached across the table and took Nesta’s hands. “She’s gone, and yes, maybe that’s the only reason that you and Cassian ended up together, but you know what? Maybe it’s not. Maybe you and Cass would’ve ended up together at another time, another place, but you didn’t. This is how it happened. And Feyre, wherever she is, is so damn happy that you two are happy. She wanted you two to be together five years ago, and she wants you to be together now, if he’s who makes you happy. You can’t feel guilty, Nesta. Your happiness does not deserve guilt.”

Nesta said nothing, didn’t bother wiping the tear that fell down her cheek.

“You love him,” Elain said, and it wasn’t a question.

Which meant that Nesta didn’t answer.

“He cleaned up your puke and carried you to bed after you treated him like garbage,” Elain said, her voice lightening. “Men like that don’t just come around, Nes.”

A door opened and closed from the back of the house and Elain picked up her coffee, standing.

“Where are you going?” Nesta whispered, her eyes going wide.

“You need to talk to him,” Elain said, heading for the living room. She didn’t say another word to her sister, but she heard her start up the stairs. “Good morning, Cass. And good morning to you, sweet boy.”

She didn’t hear a response from either of them, so she assumed Nyx was still dozing on Cassian’s shoulder, but Elain’s soft footsteps retreated up the stairs.

“Morning.”

She turned to find Cassian leaning against the doorway. Nyx, indeed, was still near sleeping where he had his head resting against Cassian, holding onto his shirt.

Clutching her coffee cup, Nesta breathed, “Good morning.”

“How are you feeling?” he asked, walking to the fridge and opening the door, pulling out a jug of orange juice.

“Honestly?” she muttered. “Shitty.”

Cassian snorted. “I’d say so.”

Silence ensued, and Cassian kissed Nyx’s forehead as he handed him to Nesta. “I’ll get him some breakfast.”

Nesta nodded, taking the sleepy baby and letting his head fall against her chest.

Cassian got oatmeal out of the pantry and mixed it with some milk before cutting strawberries into small squares. The entire time, Nesta watched him. The entire time, Cassian didn’t say a thing.

She could see the way his back muscles flexed through his old, white t-shirt.

It made her weak in the knees.

“Dada,” Nyx said, arm outstretched to Cassian.

“Almost ready, buddy,” he promised.

As Cassian walked toward the table, Nesta put Nyx in the highchair. She’d move him once Seph was awake and ready to eat. She had a feeling Nyx would be finished long before that, though, because the second Cassian sat the bowl on the tray, Nyx’s hands were covered in oatmeal.

Cassian chuckled and retreated back away from the table.

Nesta cleared her throat. “Cass?”

“Hmmm?”

“I-,” she hesitated, and sighed. “Thank you. For last night. I’m… I’m sorry, I was completely out of line-.”

“It’s fine,” he interrupted, pouring himself a glass of orange juice.

“It’s not fine.” He still hadn’t turned back to look at her. “It’s not, at all. What I did last night was stupid and irresponsible and selfish. And you took care of me and I didn’t deserve it. So… Thank you and I’m sorry.”

He was quiet for another minute, pouring a cup of coffee alongside his juice. “You’re welcome. Like I said, it’s fine. It happened, you recognize it was a dumbass decision to make. Just don’t make it again.”

She nodded, though he still couldn’t see her, since he still had his back to her.

Nesta asked, “Can we… Can we talk about last night?”

“I don’t know what there is to talk about, Nes,” he sighed, finally turning to look at her. He leaned back against the counter. “Before or after you showed up drunk?”

“Both,” she stood up and crossed the kitchen toward him. She suddenly remembered she was wearing nothing but his t-shirt. “Like I said, I was way out of line.”

Cassian watched her for a moment before letting out a breath, his shoulders sagging. “Yeah, well… The store room was just as much me as it was you, so don’t apologize for that one.”

Nesta nodded, and looked over at Nyx, stuffing his face. “Do you regret it?”

A beat passed. “The store room?”

She nodded.

Cassian drank from his glass. “Do you?”

I asked you first, she wanted to say, but didn’t. Instead, she said, “It was unprofessional.”

“That’s not an answer,” he said.

“Neither is refusing to answer the question at all,” Nesta pointed out.

Cassian snorted. “Fair.”

They fell into silence, yet again, the only sounds coming from Nyx and his excitement about food.

“Is that all you have to say this morning?” Cassian asked, and she knew he was looking at her, so her eyes remained on the floor.

“I apologized,” she said. “I thanked you. What else is there to say?”

Cassian nodded, apparently that was answer enough for him. “Alright, well, Viv is planning on meeting you and Nyx back at the house at noon. I’ll see you at work.”

He turned his back to her and started walking out of the kitchen.

“Wait,” Nesta breathed, making her way toward him. “There is one more thing I’d like to say, like to ask.”

Cassian stopped and slowly turned to face her.

It was all too familiar. Him, in his sweatpants and old tee. Her, in his shirt, after a night spent cuddled up together.

Even if the night before had been under completely different circumstances.

She cleared her throat. “I think you should come back home, Cass.”

He searched her eyes, searched for the underlying meaning. “Why?”

“Because Nyx misses you,” Nesta said, without missing a beat. “He misses seeing you everyday.”

“Is he the only one?” Cassian asked, taking a step toward her.

“Cassian,” she breathed, shaking her head.

He nodded, slowly, taking a deep breath. “That’s what I thought.”

He turned around, but Nesta reached out for him. “Cassian, please, just come back-.”

“I can’t,” he said, quietly. “I can’t be there, every day, seeing you, and not being able to do something as simple as give you a hug, Nes. I can’t be there and pretend like things are fine, and that I’m not completely miserable. I can’t. I can’t do that. I’m not ready for that.”

The brush of her fingers against his arm felt like a brand and it took everything in him not to rip it from her grasp.

“I’m going to get ready,” he said, as calmly as he could. “I’ll see you at work. Viv will be there at noon to watch him.”

Her fingers fell away as he stepped out of reach and walked back through the living room and down the hall. As always, he never slammed the door. He never let his anger get the best of him. She heard it shut with a soft click.

“Mama?”

Nesta whirled, her eyes falling on Nyx. He was a sticky mess, oatmeal and smashed strawberries all over his hands and cheeks, but he was looking right at her. “Mama,” he repeated, holding out the empty bowl for her. As if he was saying, all done.

She gave him the best smile she could muster, before crossing the room and taking the bowl from him. “Thank you, sweet boy.”

A few minutes later, she’d left the bowl soaking in the sink, had wiped him down as best she could and had nabbed a pair of leggings from Elain’s clean laundry. She didn’t want to have to interrupt Cassian to ask about her dirty dress.

Without another word to anyone, she packed Nyx up in the car and was gone, heading for home. A few minutes later, she pulled in the driveway, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that something was missing.

Without that stupid truck parked next to her car, it didn’t feel quite like home. Going inside and not finding a game on the TV, or the smell of bacon cooking this early, it didn’t feel like home.

Without Cassian there, nothing did.

And she knew she was the only one to blame.

[lettersofsky]

Your Life is My Favourite Read

aka - Platonic Soulmates is one of my most favourite things ever and nothing will ever change that, so deal with it.

“Your soulmate is so cute,” Genesis whined, slumping back against Sephiroth’s surprisingly comfy couch. “I wanna date him.”

“So why don’t you?” Came Sephiroth’s confused answer, watching Genesis from the other side of the couch.

“Because,” Genesis responded passionately. “He’s your soulmate!”

“And?” Sephiroth prompted after a few moments of Genesis staring at him intently.

Genesis could only groan at the man, slumping over his knees with his head in his hands. Sephiroth’s next words, spoken offhandedly, made him freeze;

“He wants to date you too.”

Genesis understood the romance behind reading all about your Soulmates life through their tied books, he really did. It was just that his Soulmate had died when he was two, leaving his book a terribly short read and collecting dust at the bottom of his draw.

So he couldn’t really relate to the general populace when they spoke about the person their books told them about. He kept his opinion to himself though, their was no reason to bring other people down with his inability to understand.

Angeal had known him long enough to carefully prevent conversations to turn to that particular topic and was kind enough to attempt to make excuses when he accidentally offended someone without meaning to.

Meeting Sephiroth had almost been a godsend, the man didn’t talk about Soulmates at all more focused on battle tactics and weapon techniques than anything else.

It probably helped that he had no idea how to actually talk to people but nobody liked to discuss that.

For a long time, Genesis had thought that Sephiroth didn’t have a Soulmate either; he had never seen the man with his tied book, Sephiroth never said anything when the topic did come up. So Genesis did not hold himself responsible for accidentally reading the thing one day after returning from his most recent deployment to Wutai.

He had just thought it was another book on Sephiroth’s shelf; it was just sitting there in the middle of the bookcase. He hadn’t been paying attention when he grabbed it, thinking it would be some boring thing that he could gloss over while waiting for Sephiroth.

He had slumped onto the couch and opened the book, preparing to wait for Sephiroth to finish whatever he was currently doing so they could discuss what was happening in Wutai. 

He had ended up skimming through a few pages before realising what he was actually reading. He was frozen stunned for a few minutes, reading over the page once again to make sure that he wasn’t fooling himself before flinging the book to the other side of the couch frantically when Sephiroth opened the door behind him.

To say Sephiroth was confused by the scene he had opened the door to, was an understatement.

“... What do you mean Cloud wants to date me?!” Genesis asked, shock and disbelief colouring his tone as he stared at Sephiroth. He must have heard that wrong, there was no way that -

“Cloud wants to date you too.” Sephiroth repeated slowly, clearly enunciating each word as if Genesis didn’t understand them. 

He understood what Sephiroth was saying, he just didn’t understand what Sephiroth was saying.

“But he’s your Soulmate!”

“... I know that.” Sephiroth responded to his disbelieving cry with his usual infuriating straightforward calm, looking at Genesis like he thought he was stupid.

“How can you say your Soulmate wants to date me?!” Genesis asked, trying to come at the topic with a different approach; maybe that would make Sephiroth understand where he was coming from.

Sephiroth just shrugged dismissively, replying in a calm voice. “He thinks you look good and he likes how passionate you are about the things you’re interested in.” 

His brows furrow slightly at his disbelieving face, “I thought it was a good thing when the person you’re interested in is interested in you as well.”

Genesis groaned, carding his hand through his hair as he figured out the best way to phrase his answer.

Sephiroth had been confused when Genesis tried to apologise for reading his tied book; he didn’t understand the notion that they were supposed to be private things. 

(Genesis had to resist his sudden violent urge to burn down the science department with Hojo locked inside.)

No, Sephiroth instead offered to let Genesis read more if he wanted. He justified his request by saying he wanted to know if what his Soulmate was experiencing was common in small town communities.

Genesis had been conflicted; on one hand he was preening at the fact that Sephiroth wanted his opinion on something like this, on the other he didn’t want to intrude on something that was supposed to be a very private matter.

In the end he relented to Sephiroth’s earnest, concerned look and agreed to read what had worried the other.

Sephiroth had picked up his tied book and flipped through it confidentially until he reached what he was looking for, Genesis felt a stab of something in his chest at the ease in which the other found the pages he was looking for but he was trying to be a not-so-bitter person so he paid the feeling no mind.

Sephiroth then sat next to him and handed him the book, open to what he wanted Genesis to tell him about. He held the book gingerly, a little uneasy about holding the thing but after reading the first few words on the page before him his grip on the book tightened.

No, he had told Sephiroth after reading the page. That was not normal small-town behaviour at all. He didn’t miss the forlorn expression Sephiroth fixed on the book in his hands at his words.

He handed the book back to his friend, watching as he held it gently to his chest. He sighed heavily and slumped back into the couch, there wasn’t anything either of them could do about how Sephiroth’s Soulmate was being treated by their village.

Several minutes of silence pass before Sephiroth cuts through the tension of the room by asking Genesis about how things were going in Wutai. He had been grateful for the chance to change the topic and dove into the conversation eagerly.

It didn’t stop him from worrying about the poor soul Sephiroth’s book was about though.

“Sephiroth,” Genesis sighed eventually, fixing the other man with a look. “Why would Cloud want to date me when he has you for a Soulmate?”

Sephiroth seemed to realise what Genesis was trying to say then, sitting back and watching him with a soft gaze. “He doesn’t want to date me, Genesis.” He said calmly.

“But -” Sephiroth cuts him off before he can say anything else.

“We tried dating once, after he came to Midgar.” Sephiroth explained, keeping his gaze trained on Genesis’ form. “We both hated it and decided we were better off friends,” he ended with a shrug.

Genesis was left staring at the other in disbelief, he hadn’t heard about that before. It gave him a small bit of hope.

“So, Cloud,” Genesis started hesitantly after a few moments, his gaze focused on the coffee table before them. “You think he’d be willing to get dinner with me, sometime?”

Sephiroth chuckled at his halting question, “you’ll just have to ask him, won’t you?”

That was really all he needed to give it a shot.

Genesis tried not to think about Sephiroth’s Soulmate too much, he had other things to worry about; the war with Wutai for instance.

Though he wasn’t able to forget about them completely. Sephiroth had, for some reason, decided that he was someone he could talk to about his Soulmate.

There were many nights in Wutai where, neither of them able to sleep due to nerves and excess energy, they would sit up for hours talking about whatever topic they wished. They often ended up talking about the topic of Soulmates and their tied books.

But, now they were back from the War until Shinra deployed them again and Sephiroth was acting odd. Even Angeal was noticing that Sephiroth was acting differently.

He was distracted and distant but also seemed happier when they did manage to force him to talk to them. The reason behind his sudden change in behaviour was revealed to them eventually.

His name was Cloud, he was 5′7″, blond and very willing to drop someone on their arse if they messed with him. He was also quiet, reserved with a dry, snarky wit. 

Sephiroth could’ve had a worse Soulmate.

The man was patient and understanding; exactly what Sephiroth needed in a partner. 

Genesis was ashamed to admit that he fell hard for the blond. It was hard not to when Cloud was so genuinely interested in his interests and willing to converse with him about his love of literature.

It was nice; to have someone so willing to listen to him rant about what he loved and was even willing to discuss it with him. He gave as good as he got, listening intently as Cloud talked about his love of machinery and the beautiful places he had seen in his travels.

He was doomed.

S: How did it go? C: It was good. I had a great time. S: Oh? C: Yeah, we’re going to do it again. S: That’s good. C: You kicked him into gear didn’t you? S: ... no. C: Seph. S:[file X07-03] sent C: You can’t send me cute cat videos and expect me to forgive you. S:[file X19-97] sent S:[file X06-17] sent C: Fine, fine. You’re forgiven just don’t do it again, ok? S: You deserve to be happy. C: I would’ve gotten around to it... S: I only sped things along. C: You’re awful. S: As you keep saying. C: Talk to you later alright? S: Stay safe. C: Yeah yeah, you too.

[nofomoartworld]

Hyperallergic: After the Northern California Wildfires, an Artist Pieces Together a Life

Norma I. Quintana, “Forage No. 4” from the Forage From Fire series (all photos courtesy of the artist, copyright Norma I. Quintana)

Recently wildfires have ravaged the Napa Valley in northern California. To convey how these fires have affected the arts community there, Charles Desmarais, a critic for the San Francisco Chronicle, related the accounts of a few artists who lost their homes and studios to the fires. I spoke in-depth with one of them, Norma Quintana, who told me that the Atlas Fire took both her home and studio. We discussed sorting out how to deal with such a devastating loss, and what she imagines she will do next.

Seph Rodney: I wanted to chat with you about how you’re dealing with the aftermath of the wildfire that took your home and studio. Before we get into exactly what happened, I would like to give our readers some background. You’re a photography artist, right?

Norma Quintana: Exactly. I started exhibiting in 2000. I’m not formally trained. I have a Masters in Juvenile Justice Administration, actually, from the School of Social Sciences [the Mandel School of Applied Social Sciences at Case Western Reserve University]. I decided to pursue photography because it was a great vehicle for expression. I pretty much knew immediately that I was going to be a documentarian. I took some classes and experimented, but what really spoke to me was documentary work. I just started doing that.

SR: Where exactly was your house and studio?

NQ: We live in Napa, California, which is where the fire, as I understand, started; it’s called the Atlas Fire. My home was actually in a country club environment, within the country club there are homes and my home was there. My studio was in my home.

SR: You had another room?

Cover photo of Norma I. Quintana’s Circus: A Traveling Life

NQ: Exactly. I didn’t do commercial work. I did work like the Circus series [Circus: A Traveling Life] and then I had exhibitions. I’ve taught. I’ve had residencies, and then a book, and then I started this other series called, Forget Me Not. Again, using my Hasselblad and black-and-white film — not digital at all. [Now I have] to use what I have, which is my iPhone, which is totally opposite of the way I shoot, but it’s what I have.

Pre-fire I would spend a significant amount of time developing relationships or doing research, and then I would photograph. This was different, it was almost like an out-of-body experience. I immediately found myself documenting with what I had, which was this phone that I use to do little photographs and memories of friends, and what people do with the iPhone, but I took that leap.

SR: So you’re saying post-fire you did a kind of documentary project with your iPhone?

NQ: Yes. I found myself rummaging through what was left, which was really nothing, but through the ashes I’d find remnants — which is that series that people seem to respond to, Forage From Fire. You should look at this article KQED Arts just put out today.

Norma I. Quintana, “Forage No. 6” from the Forage From Fire series

SR: I read Charles’s article. He said that you were at home with your family and you saw an orange glow on the horizon and then not too long after you heard a knock on the door from the neighborhood police saying that you needed to evacuate.

NQ: We were at the house, we had just seen 60 Minutes, we were just hanging out, everybody was in bed. I heard from a friend after three calls; I went to look and I didn’t see anything. Then I went behind my house, which ironically is a fire road, and kept looking and then I saw the glow, still not thinking that fire was ever going to touch my house. Never did I think that was going to happen, never. I’ve been there for 28 years.

The police came because I think they started to see that was coming down in our direction, but we didn’t have a sense of that or warning. They weren’t going to leave until we did. I’m still not thinking the house is going to burn; I couldn’t negotiate — because I’m so visual — that the home I lived in, my photos, my art books, that everything would be gone; I couldn’t negotiate that in my head.

SR: When you had to leave, what did you end up taking, and how did you decide to take those things?

NQ: I was slightly annoyed, I was like, okay, why do we all have to leave? There’s a fire in the hills, but not a fire in the neighborhood. They didn’t tell you anything; they just said, “get out.” We basically had five minutes because they were waiting for us and they said they [would] not leave until we left.

I grabbed my phone, my laptop. We took our passports. I don’t have things like jewels and diamonds [but] I don’t think I could choose from everything that is in my home, because I have prints, collections and vintage cameras and text files. I had so many things. As I [was] leaving the house I took my car; then I went into my studio space and I can’t … what do you take? I don’t know why, but I got my Hasselblad. Then I took only two photographs, they were of my mother in Puerto Rico and they were studio shots and I just took them, I think it’s because I wanted her presence.

[We] left. We didn’t sleep very much in [my husband’s office] you can imagine. The next morning we get this message and … I’m like, what do you mean it’s gone? It was really very shocking.

Norma I. Quintana, “Forage No. 3” from the Forage From Fire series

SR: I imagine there is space in your car trunk and you don’t think of taking anything else?

NQ: No. Imagine someone saying, “You need to evacuate now; we’re not going to leave.” And then I have a little girl who’s 13, an elderly mother-in-law who I think had taken her sleeping pill, so she was kind of dragging. Then I had my son and my husband. So there was like five of us trying to leave. I think what happened is they decided to not save houses, but knock on doors and get people out. I felt like it was the wild, wild west.

Then two or three days later you got the National Guard, thousands of firefighters. That’s when they started to allow them to burn and control, then evacuate the towns, and it was really surreal.

SR: So, how are you dealing with where you are now?

NQ: As an artist and a documentarian I was a huge collector. I love vintage things. Everybody does come up to me, and they’re like “Oh, my God, your house, it’s like a museum; oh, your cameras, your butterflies …” And I [had] prints: Sally Mann, Mary Ellen Mark. When I showed work, I [would] buy work. It just disappeared. It just disappeared. So the first week I was pretty numb, but functioning, and then the second week is when it really hit me and I started to mourn the loss, just loss, it wasn’t the things, it was loss.

SR: I’m not sure I understand the difference. You’re saying you’re mourning and it’s just loss; it’s not the things. What’s the difference?

Photograph of the artist Norma I. Quintana

NQ: Well, oddly enough, this is what this journey is revealing to me. I compare it to curating: As a curator you get to see the work; [spend] time with it, but at the end of the day it goes, right? I saw myself being a curator of curiosities, of things that I found interesting that had history, that had some meaning and then I placed them in my home. I was kind of known for taking and making installations to my home. Like for example, my powder room was a chapel. So that chapel had Virgin Marys and busts of Saints and holy water and this kind of wild room. Then I had an apothecary a Chinese apothecary and on that I put anything Chinese. So I had many different worlds.

I don’t know, maybe because I’m Puerto Rican, I’m married to a South American, one of my children is from China, and my other two children were born in Santiago, Chile. That’s the way I have survived: they were things, they were beautiful things. I had the ability to curate them in my house and then they’re gone.

SR: So it’s as if you’ve made peace with them being temporary in your life?

NQ: Yes. Exactly. And you asked me how am I doing; now I’m at a place of peace and renewal. That’s where I’m at now, third week in.

SR: What are the prospects for you and your family of getting back to a place that you can call home?

Norma I. Quintana, “Tray No. 1” from the Trays of Combustion series

NQ: We’re fortunate we have private insurance [and] we are surrounded by an incredible community, so we have support in terms of housing. The other thing [is] I think I have the belief that I’m going to recreate what I had. My loss really was about a sense of home so when I would cry I would cry about that, home, security, a place of memories and it was gone.

SR: Do you find that being with your family makes that sense of loss more poignant or alleviates that for you?

NQ: I think both. I think yes, family and my husband who is the love of my life, I’ve been with him since we’ve been 18 years old — that’s pretty strong. I don’t know. It’s because I’m an immigrant, daughter of an immigrant — they’re from Puerto Rico and I know what it’s like to not have anything. I often would just open my eyes in my home and be thankful, I really can say that honestly. So then this work came up, this Forage From Fire, which is so different, but it seems to be moving a lot of people.

The post After the Northern California Wildfires, an Artist Pieces Together a Life appeared first on Hyperallergic.

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