#god ese ace... ESE ACE!!!!!!!!!!!!

[marisashinx]

"I... I'm really back..."

[unpersoniverse]

Ratonhnhaké:ton sketches to cleanse your spirit 🫂🫂

[altruistic-meme]

the things i do for money 😔

[the-acid-pear]

enjoying archiving characters. taking them to the back and shooting them.

[queernarcissus]

theres a fic i read once and i think it might have been deleted this is so sad for me

[babyleostuff]

passenger princess(es)

𝜗𝜚 fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 idol!seungcheol x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 wc: 894

・ ❥ ・ there is nothing that could stop cheol from taking care of his passenger princess(es)

„hey baby, can you pass me the water bottle?” seungcheol let go of the wheel, so he could grab the bottle from you, not tearing his eyes from the road for a second. 

cheol was a great driver, excellent even in his humble opinion - he has never gotten a ticket in his life, and people told him on multiple occasions how safe they felt with him behind the wheel. he was also very much aware of how hot he looked driving, something he often used against you. with the sleeves of his black shirt rolled up (which accentuated his yummy biceps even more), the expensive watch around his wrist and, for dessert, his other hand resting on your thigh - you had no other way out than to totally thirst over your unfairly sexy boyfriend.

there were times when you found yourself staring at him with no shame, he was that hot. not that seungcheol cared, if he did he wouldn’t flex his biceps on purpose while grabbing the wheel. 

but while he was (obviously) very careful while driving, it seemed that his protective instincts kicked in on a higher level when you were sitting next to him. 

that’s why when you didn’t answer him, or gave him the bottle, he made sure to grab the wheel with both of his hands before throwing a glance at you. 

„my love, did you h-,” words stuck in his throat when he saw your closed eyes and your head resting against the window. cheol knew that sooner or later you would fall asleep anyway, no matter how hard you insisted on not sleeping. “i want to keep you company,” you pouted angrily, and grabbed the AUX, “don’t want you to feel lonely.” it was on the tip of cheol's tongue that there was no chance he would feel lonely, even if you were sleeping. not to mention your little white fluff ball in the backseat that always kept him company. 

„you see, told you mommy would fall asleep,” he laughed, looking at your precious baby in the rearview mirror. kkuma seemed to have the best time looking at the passing cars, barking at some of them, and wagging her tail at others. 

seungcheol sighed with a smile, as he grabbed your hand that was resting on your tummy. „ah, what am i going to do with you, my silly girls.” 

to be honest - he couldn't have been more content. you spent the whole day together on the beach, with kkuma running into the waves (she ended up looking like a wet mop), eating food from the seaside food stalls, walking along the shore, and finally ending the day with a swim together. days off were the best. 

suddenly, his daydream was cut short when he felt you shiver. cheol wouldn’t have been that worried (you sometimes got those shivers in your sleep, which he always found really cute), but you grabbed his hand tighter, as if you were searching for more body heat. he frowned as he ran his hand over your arm, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. 

„why didn’t you just tell me you were cold,” he muttered, half annoyed, and half worried. your hair was still wet, and your clothes damp after you put them over your swimsuit, so if the AC was too low you could get sick - something seungcheol wouldn’t let happen, even if it meant he’d have to fight the illness himself. 

fortunately, there was a gas station a few kilometers away.

he parked right next to a small field of grass so he could also let kkuma out for a moment, and opened the trunk in search of a blanket he could cover you with. cheol also found his sweater and decided that two layers wouldn’t hurt. 

to avoid any neck or back cramps, seungcheol gently repositioned you in your seat so as not to wake you up, but still let you sleep peacefully without straining any muscles. technically he could just turn the heating on, but he just let you freeze for the past god knows how many minutes - he had to bundle you up. „my pretty girl,” he stroked your cheek, leaning in to kiss your nose, before covering you with the sweater. 

„c-cheollie?” you suddenly mumbled, and raised your hand to rub your eyes. your boyfriend couldn’t help but laugh at your slightly confused expression.  

„i pulled over, baby,” he said softly. „you were sleeping and you were clearly freezing, which by the way, please let me know next time if you're cold, so i stopped to cover you up.” 

you looked at him with big, sleepy eyes like you were still trying to figure out which planet you were on - you were clearly still too tired to understand. „’s okay, go back to sleep.” 

some people were afraid of sleeping in cars, after all, there were so many situations that could lead to a catastrophe - what if the driver fell asleep or did not notice the approaching vehicle? 

but you were not scared at all, not in the slightest. if you had to pick one person on earth that made you feel the safest, you’d pick choi seungcheol without a hesitation. in a car or not - you knew he’d protect you no matter what. 

that's why, without thinking, you nodded and closed your eyes, falling back asleep.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl @uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot 

[dumbgoondog]

Inumaki nsfw alphabet I BEG of you 🙏🙏

I gotchu

Cw/Tw - uuuhhhhhhhh dunno, he’s a perv I guess?

MDNI +18 NSFW

Toge Inumaki NSFW Alphabet

(A)ftercare - he’s not Prince Charming, he’s a let’s cuddle and rest together, kind of guy. Maybe he has a drink on the bedside stand for you both to share!

(B)ody Part - Ass and tits, thighs, tummy. He likes fat bitches, men and women, everyone in between and outside too.

(C)um - condom, he likes tying them off and too you, make you look like a pornstar. He’s kinda shnasty

(D)irty Secret - He wants to get pegged. Strap on, suck on it and fucked on it.

(E)xperience - None, he grew up at Jujustu tech with Panda, there weren’t many he could talk too. God has it made him a sex fiend and pervert tho. He’s a Pepsi with twelve mentos in him.

(F)avorite Position - On the bed, missionary, on the floor, doggy, on the wall, sideways, forwards, backwards, reverse, upside down, carrying, raw- you get it

(G)oofy - VERY. He loves laughing, enjoying the funny things, he wants things to be relaxed between you two!

(H)air - messy white/grey hair, not groomed, washed but a bit musky still. He could do better. If you’re hairy tho? Let him at it. He wants to explore the jungle.

(I)ntimacy - surprisingly very! He’s a bit insecure about not being able to talk, it’s a disability tbh! Since he can’t talk tho, he’s constantly physically affectionate, trying to spend time with you, getting you gifts, helping you with things as you need, it’s great! If you have periods he has your periods tracked and has all the things to help you and keep you comfortable.

(J)ack off - often. Very often. His libido is HIGH. Mf jerks it at least once every other day. He’s a dog, it’s always the quiet ones

(K)ink - crying. Dacryphilia. Not because you’re in pain or unhappy, but from overstimulation or just the pleasure is really good! He’s a bit embarrassed about it tho.

(L)ocation - anywhere! His bean bag is a favorite tho! Jus so comfy!

(M)otivation - He’s really easy to get excited, skirts, a button undone, sweaty, working out, fresh from the shower, messy after work, bending ova even!

(N)o - I don’t know mb. Nothin illegal but he’s a freak

(O)ral - he can’t explain it, he’s just… nervous to use his mouth on you. He doesn’t think yer dirty no nothin, jus he’s always had people been tellin him to be careful with it. Kissin you is helpin with that tho and loves when you use your mouth on him!

(P)ace - power bottom. Otherwise a bratty teasin top, no in between. He’s tellin you to bounce, or push it back, or push in more. Whatever pace depends on how nice he’s feelin

(Q)uicky - Yes! Especially if neither of you finish and get to squirm after! The denial feels so good!

(R)isk - he’s willing to try things for sure, but he loves risk in public places a lot. Dirty talk, groping, fingering, jerking, grindin, you name it

(S)tamina - he’s got good stamina, not crazy stamina. You know what he does have tho? Like Gojo, he’s a cum dumper. He will cum again and again until he’s spent.

(T)oys - loves them, he has a collection! Vibrators and butt plugs! Yessir! Dildos and straps? Hell yeah! Damn he even is willing to try a cage if you want

(U)nfair - Very teasin, bratty and fun, but he’s slick too. He’s so sneaky about it and keeps up his decently calm and polite persona aroun everyone pretty good while he’s fondling your ass

(V)olume - He’s tryin to be quiet, muffle himself, he doesn’t want to accidentally say something, but he’s tryin doesn’t mean he’s good at it!

(W)ild Card - he wants to learn to pole dance and as a side gig be a stripper/pole dancer.

(X)-ray - stupid print boxers. Graffiti, animals, brands like cup ramen or soda, he has flags too but like… the British flag, Greenland flag, Pakistan. Why? It’s his secret hobby. Collecting country flag underwear. He’s got SpongeBob underwear where his dick fits where SpongeBob’s nose is like a cod piece.

(Y)es - he’s so up for multiple people joining in on the fun or watching. He’s secretly just such a whore and I have no basis for why he is but it feels correct! Have you seen how he has to do that tongue thang before speaking? You get it.

(Z)zz - honk mee mee mee. Cuddle up and sleep. G’night!

[hectorthedoggo]

au(?) where the leading cause of all of the bad events in t3 is that Shidou cut amanes bangs (yk how he's a bad artist? Yeah!).

so he was already on thin ice but he cut her bangs and then she looked in the mirror and decided he needed to die (Mahiru started crying after looking at her bangs, and that's why Amane looked in the mirror.) so she grabbed the scissors from Shidou and stabbed him to death. Yuno walks in, and then Mahiru dies from lack of Shidou but says "thank god I won't see those bangs anymore" as her last words. Then, Fuuta also walks in to get his medical treatment and is initially very upset at Shidou's death. Amane explains why, and then he gets so upset on her behalf that he joins the cult.

And, by killing Shidou and Mahiru, mu was upset and didn't bring Haruka food. She was also upset by the bangs, and so haruka died completely unintentionally when she finally remembered to give him food.

Also, Mikoto (fashion designer) is also so horrified by the bangs that he realizes that he felt this horror before. When? WHEN HE KILLED SOMEONE. and John is gone bc of our inno verdict but.

kazui decided he was aro-ace bc he lost all attraction for shidou over the fact that he made that haircut, and kotoko decided to re-restrain herself (she bit off the restraints but she realized how evil can affect anyone and so she decided to restrain herself so she wouldn't see herself become evil)

Es quits their job bc wdym 3 prisoners died over a bad haircut.

[peterporkerfan]

sketchbook [earth 1610!miles morales x latina!reader]

word count: 1.2k

warnings: fluff, light cursing, kissing, relationship insecurities, lots of spanglish

a/n: my first language is spanish, so nothing here is google translated i promise 💀

It was a hot June afternoon, and the air was sizzling all over the city.

You and Miles laid on his bed, side by side, with his arm draped around your shoulder. The AC was on full blast, and Miles’ favorite album sounded all around the room. You were both humming and singing along contently. You looked up at him smiling every once in a while, and he’d look back, smiling even wider.

“Baby, do you hear this? No one does it like Kendrick. His music is on a whole ‘nother level.” He smiled back down at you, looking at you with sheer adoration.“You know, Gwen and I…we’d listen to him all the time when she’d swing by. I love his music.”

“Remember when your favorite rapper was Post Malone?” You joked, and he looked away awkwardly.

“Yeah…we don’t—we don’t talk about that.”

You laughed and you brought your hands to his cheeks, bringing him closer and kissing him deeply. He smiled into the kiss, bringing his hands to your waist and pulling you towards him until you were laying on top of him.

You pull away from the kiss, and look down at Miles while you smile.

“I’ve never met anyone like you, Miles. Eres otra cosa.”

Miles smiled back at you, feeling so lucky to have someone like you in his life. “Just wait until you meet Peter, Hobie, or Gwen…especially Gwen. She’s the coolest person ever. You two would get along really well.” Miles rambled.

“I’m sure we would.” You smiled back at your boyfriend, knowing how much he cared about his friends.

“Miles, mijo! Baja un momentito. I need your help with something!” Mrs. Morales shouted from downstairs.

“Coming, Ma!” Miles shouted back, turning his head in the direction of the opened door.

“A mi tú no me grites!”

Miles sighed, “I’ll be back ya mismo”

“I’ll be right here” You smiled at him. Miles smiled back and walked out, leaving you alone in his room.

When Miles shut the door, you stood up from your position, sitting with your legs crossed on the edge of the twin sized bed. You took in his room, and how much it reminded you of him. His collectible figurines, countless posters of his favorite rappers and albums, and the constant clutter on his floor. You spotted his sketchbook on the ground right in front of you, and felt a sudden urge to pick it up.

Miles was generally open about most things with you, however he kept his drawings to himself. You never questioned it as maybe he just thought they were embarrassing or too personal. You slowly picked up the book and started flipping through its pages. At first you were met with images of his uncle, his suit, and the streets of Brooklyn. You smiled faintly as you flipped through, appreciating how utterly talented your boyfriend was. However, you were suddenly met with countless images of someone whose name you’d never forget: Gwen.

Miles’ face would always light up when he mentioned Gwen. You never thought much of it, however, there were so many drawings of her in his sketchbook, which must’ve taken hours to make, with every little detail about her captured on the paper. You began to feel an unfamiliar pain take over you, and you put the sketchbook down where you got it from. God, she was gorgeous. And cool. Of course Miles liked her…I mean who wouldn’t? The way he described her made her seem so…captivating. Before the thought took over you completely, Miles walked into the room again, holding a large laundry basket and setting it down besides his bed. You tried to change your expression, looking up at your boyfriend like you usually would.

“That’s a lot of clothes to sort through. Que mierda.” Miles sighed.

“You need any help?”

“Yeah, actually. That’d be pretty good.”

“Cual es la palabra mágica?” You teased, batting your eyes at him playfully.

Miles narrowed his eyes at you, acting playfully annoyed. “Please?”

You walked towards him and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and leaned down to sort through the clothes in the basket.

“I think you might’ve outgrown this sweater a while ago.” You held it out so Miles could see. It was an orange cardigan, with patches embroidered into it.

“Haha, very funny, Y/N. That’s Gwen’s. She left it here last time que visitó.”

“Y tú—you wear it?” You asked, feeling the uneasiness you felt before come rushing back.

“Course not. Mami probably threw it in the laundry basket sorting through my room at some point.”

“Oh.”

“It’s nice to have something of her’s though. Just to remember her by.”

Some time went by and you continued to fold clothes while a question bubbled inside you. Finally, after a long silence, you asked.

“Miles, tú—do you still…”

“Do I still what, mi amor?”

“Have feelings for…”

Miles furrowed his brows. “For…Gwen?”

“I mean, you talk about her so much and I didn’t mean to violate your privacy or anything but I may or may not have looked through your sketchbook filled with drawings of her. And don’t get me wrong the drawings are really good pero—”

Miles interrupted your senseless ramble. “Mi amor…”

“Qué?”

“You don’t seriously think that I like her, right?”

“Well, I don’t know. I mean I wouldn’t blame you for it, you know. You did once before, you could again but—“

“Baby…those drawings are old, did you go through the whole thing?”

“No, not really. I guess I thought I’d seen…enough.”

Miles picked up the sketchbook off the ground and flipped through it. He handed it to you and looked at you with adoration as he did so (unbeknownst to you, as you were staring down at your shoes with shame). You flipped the page from a drawing of Gwen and saw it: countless drawings of you. All done when you thought he wasn’t looking. A drawing of you looking at the board in math class, sitting across the room from Miles (only because the teacher thought you two were “too chatty” when you sat together). A drawing of you sitting on your windowsill with headphones on, drowning out the world around you. A drawing of you walking towards Miles, smiling at him. The drawings continued for countless pages, and your eyes began to water as you looked back up at Miles.

“You did all these…de mi?”

“Claro, you’re my girl. Why would I not?” Miles’ brows furrowed as he looked towards you.

“Dios mio, I’m so sorry for thinking you liked her. Soy tan estupida a veces.”

“Nah, don’t be, and you’re not. Yo soy el que es medio pendejo every once in a while. That’s on me.” Miles laughed.

“Y Miles, these drawings are really good. Why hadn’t you shown me?”

“I thought you wouldn’t—ay, no se. I thought you’d think they were stupid or something, I guess.” Miles mumbled, looking down at his shoes.

“Stupid? Miles, these are…you’re crazy talented. Are you kidding me?”

“Thanks…” Miles blushed as he smiled back at you faintly.

“Alright, well… enough of this sappy shit. Where were we?”

“Laundry.” Said Miles.

“Right, laundry.”

“Do we reeeeally want to do the laundry though?” Miles asked, hoping you’d just say no.

“Fuck no.” You laughed.

“Great!” You laughed as Miles webbed you back to were you were before, laying side by side on his bed.

You looked up at him. “Can I choose the music now?”

“Fine, baby. Play whatever you want.”

You unlocked his phone and searched for a Spanish pop song you knew Miles hated.

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Seriously…”

“Miles, si no es así te vas a convertir en un gringo. Con esa B en español, imagínate…”

“Alright, alright…lo que tu digas, mami.” He laughed, kissing the top of your head.

As the song played and you sung along to each word, Miles became sure of one thing:

He’d never let you go.

send me requests for whatever (no smut and only latina or white/race not specified reader please)!! i’ll write mainly for miles morales but i’ll take requests for anyone else spiderverse/spiderman!!

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Day 2 - Ghost hunting

Eli chanted as he waved the incense around the room. “Praecipio omnem negativitatem, quamlibet energiam vibrationalem humilem, ac non benevolum intra hoc spatium excedere et ad lucem ire. Non hic es gratissimus. Praecipio tibi ut per fenestram apertam (seu ianuam) exeas et redeas unde ad industriam lucis transfiguratus es.” He turned toward the door as he heard someone cough behind him. “Oh, papa.”

“You never could get those shark Ks quite right.” Stiles chuckled as he stepped into the room, smelling the overly floral scent. “God, are you using lavender for cleansing? I’ve told you a hundred times to use dragon’s blood.” He smiled at his son.

Eli shrugged, putting the lavender back into the bowl. “I ran out of dragon’s blood and I really did not feel like going out for more.” He looked into Stiles’s eyes and sighed. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d be halfway to DC by now. You left the party pretty early last night.”

“I’d never leave without telling you goodbye, Eli.” He shrugged, running his fingers through his unruly locks. “It was just…”

“Save it, papa.” Eli huffed. “You couldn’t even be bothered to stick it out for one night. Why do you even bother coming back?”

Stiles groaned, wiping at his face. “Eli, what you have to understand…”

Eli shook his head. “I’m not some stupid kid anymore, Stiles. You did not just leave dad behind. You left me too, and you keep leaving me behind every time you run away.”

“Eli, I begged your father to leave this fucking town but he wanted to stay. Then he almost got you killed.” He pulled at his hair and let out a long breath. “And he went and died on us, leaving you with Scott. This town does nothing but destroy everything.”

“Then why did you leave me here?!” Eli screamed. “You were so concerned about me being with Scott but as soon as you got me back you took off. Why?”

“Because your father refused to come with me!” Stiles screamed back. “And the bureau is no place for a kid. You needed some sort of stability and I could not give that to you without Derek. And as much as it hurt, I knew you were better in Derek’s care.”

Eli shook his head. “You didn’t even try to fight for us, papa.”

“Because I refuse to stay in this town. Leaving you here was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.” Stiles sighed, hanging his head. “And I hope you’ll forgive me one day.”

Eli sighed. “I hope so too, papa, but chasing you would be as useful as catching a ghost.”

Stiles chuckled, wiping at his eyes. “When I was 16, I went searching for a dead body on the preserve. Did your dad ever tell you this story?”

“Yeah… it was aunt Laura. And while you were out there uncle Peter bit Scott. What is your point?” Eli sat on his, bed kicking a chair out for Stiles. It seemed that they were done arguing for the moment.

Stiles sat in front of his son, taking his hand. “I’ve never been good at making the best decisions, Eli. I’ve made one truly great decision in 30 years, and that was adopting you.” He gulped, shaking his head. “I know I’ve screwed up too much, but I’ll always come back for you.”

Eli shook his head. “I don’t want you to come back for me. I want you to stay.” He got up and stormed out of his room.

Stiles got up to follow him and ran into Derek. “Um, hi.” He tried looking anywhere but in his eyes. “I’ll just be going then.”

“No, I think we need to talk.” Derek sighed, gesturing toward the den. “It’s long overdue Stiles.”

Stiles cursed and nodded; knowing that Derek was correct. He stomped toward the den, trying to ignore all the pictures of him, Derek, and Eli throughout the happier years. “Talk, Derek.”

“Three years ago…I did something monumentally stupid.” Derek groaned, grabbing a soda.

“Yes, I know. I’m still trying to understand your thinking. How could you sacrifice yourself to the nogitsune?”

“That’s not what I’m talking about. I should never have let you leave.” Derek sighed, drinking down the coke. “I went to the Hoover FBI offices, about a week after you left.” He laughed bitterly. “I snuck in and made my way all the way to your floor. I watched you in your office, laughing with some intern.”

Stiles stared at him, unsure of what to say. “Why?”

“Because I love you. Because I wanted you to come home.” He tossed his soda in the trash. “But you were so happy.”

“I was dying Derek!” Stiles yelled. “Every moment I’ve been away from you and Eli I died a little more.” He shook his head pacing up and down the bar. “You took him away from me.” He walked over and poured himself a glass of scotch. “No one even saw fit to tell me you had died! Scott just took Eli to LA, and you know who finally called me? Peter! Peter fucking called me to tell me my husband was dead and my son was taken 60 miles away from his family.”

Derek nodded. “What can I say? I’m an emotional dumb ass. I made a split moment decision to make Scott his alpha. I did not know he would take him away from the area.”

Stiles scoffed. “Scott never thinks with his brain, Derek. He makes all of his decisions based on his emotions.” He downed the liquor, wincing a bit. “God, that's vile. Peter’s?” He nodded when Derek shrugged. “I’m lucky that Lydia was around to help me break the illusion because my dumbass best friend did not stop to think about how a trickster demon could have created one.”

Derek watched him pace. “You’re right.”

Stiles chuckled. “What is there to do at this point?”

“Please, come home.”

Tears filled his eyes as he shook his head. “Do you think I sat around waiting for you for three years, Derek?”

Derek chuckled. “No, I know you and Isaac have been sleeping with each other, on and off.” He shrugged. “He told me and I don’t care. I just want you to come home.”

Stiles looked into his empty scotch glass for a moment. He could feel the anger boiling up in him again. “This is not my home anymore, Derek.” He growled, throwing the glass across the den. It made a satisfying sound as it shattered against the wall. “We went through all of this three years ago.”

“Yeah, you want me to move to Washington D.C.” Derek sighed. He ignored the broken glass for the moment. “Away from my family’s land.”

“Away from the blood and horror soaked into the land.” Stiles shook his head. “Aren’t you tired of fighting witches, vampires, werewolves, and anything else that might come along?”

“As posed to the ghosts you are fighting in D.C.?” Derek raised a brow at him. “There are nemeton and monsters everywhere.” He stood, placing his hands on Stiles’s shoulders. “Stop hunting ghosts and come home.”

Stiles shook his head as he turned and ran out of the house he had once shared with Derek and Eli.

🐺

Chris sat beside Stiles, looking over the quiet pond. “18 years, Stiles.”

Stiles turned to him, raising a brow. “What?”

“I’ve known you for 18 years, just shy of two decades.” Chris smiled at him. “Almost twenty years ago I met this obnoxious kid who wasn’t afraid of anything and would run head first into any situation to save his family. What happened that that kid?”

Stiles chuckled, shaking his head. “He got tired of fighting.”

“Bullshit.” Chis sighed, handing him a cigarette. “All of us are tired of fighting, but we keep doing what we need to do. You abandoned the fight, Stiles.”

“I would not say it like that. I mean you ran all the way to Paris.” Stiles frowned, lighting his cigarette.

“Temporarily.” Chris shrugged. “I came back a few months later. You’ve been gone 3 years. And if I had not taken these out of your car you’d be gone already.” Chris smirked, placing the spark plugs between them on the bench.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Of course you did. You and Peter are a couple of old biddies who can’t stay out of other people’s business.”

“My husband and I mean well.” He leaned back against the seat, letting out a sigh. “After fighting Monroe for 5 years…”

“I don’t want to talk about that!” Stiles growled.

Chris nodded as he continued his train of thought. “We lost a lot of great people, and I came to realize what was important in life. As you know, Peter and I had been denying how we felt since high school. We wasted over 20 years. I know I got Allison out of it, but don’t make my mistakes, Stiles. Don’t wait 20 years to tell Derek you love him again.”

Stiles groaned letting his head fall back. “You and Peter are still weird.”

“Yeah… yeah. He tapped his hand and got up to leave. “You should really have your spark plugs looked out. A car cannot run without them. Luckily I know a great auto shop. They unfortunately are all closed up for the holidays. They should open tomorrow.”

Stiles raised a brow , picking up one of the spark plugs. They had been mangled beyond repair. “Damn werewolves.” He rolled his eyes and began walking towards his father’s house. He most likely still at the dead of day mass but at least Stiles knew where he kept the spare key.

🐺

Eli leaned against the side of the house, smoking a cigarette. Malia stood next to him and stole the cigarette, taking a drag. “Why aren’t you in school?”

“Mental health day. I went long enough for them to take attendance and then came home.” Eli sighed, taking his cigarette back. “What do you want, cousin?”

She shrugged. “Just checking in on my favorite cousin.”

“I’m your only cousin.” Eli chuckled. “I mean until aunt Cora decides to have a kid of her own.” He stomped out his cigarette. “So why are you really here?”

“Stiles is still in town. Chris advised me to close the auto shop down. So I’m just hiding out. Don’t really want to see the ex.” Malia grinned at him. “Since we’re both playing hooky, let’s do something fun or we can talk about why you’re taking a mental health day.”

“I almost forgot you dated my dad. God is there a Hale he hasn’t fucked, besides me?” Eli growled.

Malia laughed. “I don’t think he’s been with Cora.” She squeezed his hand. “Tell me what’s really wrong.”

Eli gaped at her. “Are you saying that Stiles had sex with uncle Peter?” his eyes glowed gold as he started to partially shift. “I was joking.”

Malia shrugged. “Calm down pup. It was once and they were both really pissed at the time. Angry people, having hate sex, you know. I don’t like thinking about it. Tell me about why you’re really upset.”

Eli let out a breath, trying to get his claws to retract. “They were fighting. I just want Stiles and my dad to work this out. Hell, I’d be willing to move to D.C., if I could just get them to…why did he have to go?”

“You’re papa has been fighting a war since he was 16 years old, Eli. You’ve heard all the stories.” She pushed his hair out of his eyes. “He thought he was finally able to relax when he found out about you. But then he almost lost you, and your father. It broke him.”

Eli shook his head, trying not to cry. “So he, what? Took himself out of the equation?” He wiped at his eyes, smudging his eyeliner. “I don’t understand how he could leave so easily.”

“Oh, it was not easy, Eli.” Malia sighed. “He’s still fighting himself over it.” She cupped his cheek. “We will get him back. He’s just… a ghost of himself.”

Eli chuckled. “I told him that this morning.”

“Yeah, Derek told me.” She laughed.

🐺

The sheriff walked into the house and stared at his son, watching television. “You know breaking an entry is illegal.”

Stiles glared over at his father. “A hunter and a werewolf sabotaged my vehicle. Can I press charges?”

Noah laughed as he put his coat away. “Do you really want to? I could call Jordan, but I am retired. Remember?” He kicked Stiles' feet off the coffee table. “What’s going on?”

Stiles groaned. “Everyone is trying to talk me into staying in this god forsaken town. Derek, Peter, Chris, and of course Eli all tried to ask me to stay this morning. Eli is the only one I really care about. He is so hurt, and I did that.”

His father nodded, letting out a long breath. “You won’t get any sympathy from there, Bud.” He chuckled, shrugging. “What is so wrong with coming home? We have an FBI office just an hour from here.”

“Do you realize how many times this town has tried to kill us in the last 18 years? So many of us have lost their lives; Corey, Gwen, Theo, Derek! The list goes on and on. Nolan and Brett! I offered to take Eli and Derek with me, and Derek refused.”

“You ran away from your problems, Stiles. Death is what happens in a war and you know that.” Noah sighed.

“The war was supposed to be over!” Stiles cried. “The war was supposed to be over and he still died. I could not protect him and my son had to watch his father die, all because of a monster I could not kill the first time.”

Noah pulled his sobbing son into a hug. “You have got to stop blaming yourself, Stiles.” He ran his hand through his hair and kissed the top of his head. “No one can protect everyone. You were on assignment and we made the decision not to call you.”

Stiles nodded as he pulled back and wiped his eyes. “It’s been three years. What if I can’t fix this?”

“You’ll figure it out.” Noah laughed softly. “I would suggest putting in a request to be transferred back to the LA FBI office.”

Stiles nodded, biting his lip. “I hate it here, but I love Derek and my son.”

Noah shrugged. “We make sacrifices for the ones we love.”

Stiles sighed. “Can I stay here tonight? I’ll have to call the D.C office and let them know what’s going on, and I’ll have to talk to Derek and Eli again tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Of course, but your room is full of boxes. Your step mom and I are redecorating.” Noah shrugged.

“You and Natalie are using my room for storage?!”

The sheriff shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting my adult son to stop by.” He smirked. “The couch pulls out.”

Stiles groaned and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I can use the sleeper sofa. Worst day of the dead ever. Did you light a candle for mom?”

Noah smiled sadly. “Don’t I always?”

[zethsdumpster]

Rate the Ship - Shuraiya Bascud x Masked Deuce

NOTP | Ew/uncomfortable | Eh |Alright | I like it! | They look nice together| Let’s do it! | OTP | OTP of OTPs

Who realized they were in love first- Deuce

Who said “I love you” first - Shuraiya

How did they fall in love? – it's external forces that push them to the other (if not they probably would have barely noticed the other), but they find a strange comfort and stability together, the other becomes an irreplaceable presence in their lives before they even notice

How was their first kiss? – Shuraiya decides to take the fall of faith and dives in for a kiss, it's a little forceful yet gentle and Deuce finds himself freezing in shock but he comes back to himself before Shuraiya can misinterpret his unresponsiveness and drags him for another kiss

Who proposed? – Shuraiya

Who is the best man/men? – Ace

Who is the bride’s maid(s)? – Adele (Shuraiya's lil sister)

Who did the most planning? – Deuce

Who stressed the most? – Deuce

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? – Deuce's bio family

Who is the one to instigate things? – Shuraiya

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? – Shuraiya

Who is the stricter parent? - Deuce

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Shuraiya

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? – Shuraiya

Who is the more loved parent? – both

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? – Deuce

Who cried the most at graduation? – Deuce

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? – Deuce

Who does the most cooking? – Shuraiya

Who is the most picky in their food choice? – Deuce

Who does the grocery shopping? – Shuraiya

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? – Shuraiya

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Deuce

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? – Deuce

Who cleans the room? – Shuraiya

Who cleans up after the pets? - Deuce

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Shuraiya

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? – Deuce

Who takes the longer showers/baths? – Deuce

Who takes the dog out for a walk? – Deuce

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? – neither

Who plays the most pranks? – neither

Who would have the others’ picture as their phone background - both

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror- Deuce

Who buys the other cheesy gifts- Deuce

Who initiated the first kiss- Shuraiya

Who kisses the other awake in the morning- Shuraiya

Gives nose/forehead kisses – Shuraiya

Who starts tickle fights- Shuraiya

Who asks who if they can join the other in the shower- both

Who surprises the other in the middle of the day at work with lunch- Shuraiya

Who was nervous and shy on the first date – Deuce

Gets jealous the most- Deuce

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day - Deuce

Who kills/takes out the spiders- Shuraiya

Who loudly proclaims their love when they’re drunk- Deuce

When I started shipping it- I legit have no idea, I think they came to my through a god-sent vision or sth (but it was at least partially influenced by acechiji ngl)

What makes me happy about them- I just think they would be good for each other, and super cute together

What makes me sad about them- that they're barely known non-canon characters...

Things done in fanfic that annoys me- there are no fics, man T.T

Things I look for in fanfic- the fics...

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other- Portgas D Ace and Vinsmoke Ichiji (whoever with whoever is good)

My happily ever after for them- chilling together in homely peace (with Deuce writing to his heart's content and Shuraiya's -and Shuraiya's family's- support)

[legendaryfacecoffee2]

Name: Desi

Age: 15

Birthday: December 13th

Sexuality: Bisexual

He is the a villain who you would see first but ngl I would say he has the personality of Tanjiro from demon slayer tho. Anyway his mission is to kill Fungi as revenge, because his family and his planet got destroyed in flames and his sister (Jenise) where the only people who survived so he went to earth and lived there while trying to figure out to kill Fungi.

Name: Jenise

Age: 14

Birthday: April 7th

Sexuality: Bisexual

She is Desi's younger sister and often treats her brother like crap (Not in a mean way) and doesn't try and show her love towards him even though it's looks obvious. When she closes one of her eyes she has a supernatural ability to move faster than the speed of sound (And yes, she is technically faster than Noah) but unfortunately that makes her to become blind but she has really good sense. (She wasnt blind since birth but idk how to explain lol)

Name: RoboEse

Age: ??

Birthday: ?? When he was made in idk

Sexuality: Do robots have sexualities? Well idk but I would say he is straight

He is a Robot version of Ese created by Desi and Jenise themselves, he is incredibly strong tho (Btw he is a male, don't ask why Desi made a robot version of Ese and why did he made him male instead of female). And he is like a father to both Desi and Jenise and he kinda a housewife :3 (He also has a crush on CE and gets flushed around her)

Name: CE (Aka corrupted Ese)

Age: I have no idea :)

Birthday: Probably the same as Ese's (14th June)

Sexuality: Pansexual

She is Ese but she is corrupted bc there was this little robot thingi and when inside on Ese's eye and turned her to corrupted. She has a flirty personality especially towards RoboEse and finds him adorable. She is ofc like a mother to Desi and Jenise.

Name: Hedgehog

Age: ??

Birthday: February 29th

Sexuality: Aro/Ace

(Pls for the love of God don't say he looks like sonic the hedgehog) Yes his name is Hedgehog bc Desi couldn't think of a name lmao-. Anyway he is morely an psychopath of the 5 and is very intelligent, he can make a giant robot within weeks or months.

So this is technically the antagonists (but they turn into hero's at the end of the story) there are still three more left and those three are the main villains who appear at the end of the story. But yeah that all about them! You can ask about them or the other characters if you would like!

[mellyssageversee]

Eclipsed - Chapter 6

A ZoLu/LuZo fic (AU Nika Sun God)

AO3 Link

Summary: Sun God Nika is accused of a crime he did not commit. Nika goes into hiding to avoid being hunted by other Gods who wish to have him replaced. This inadvertently plunges the world into darkness, triggering an ice age. Only one human has faith that Nika will return the Sun.

For links to other chapters, please view My OP Story Masterpost

WARNING: Violence, angst, and character death

☁️✨☁️

Golden court steeples rose above the gleaming city in the Celestial Realm, piercing the heavens with a splendor only Gods could conjure. The pristine white marble buildings shimmered as if imbued with ethereal light, their surfaces untouched by time or imperfection. Gold traced intricate patterns along high arches, weaving through murals that adorned the vaulted ceilings, paintings that told the history of the Gods.

Sabo stood in the grand hall of justice, leaning against a cool marble column. His silver staff, a symbol of his high status as the God of Wisdom, rested in his hand. The polished surface caught the divine glow of the surrounding architecture, but his piercing blue eyes scanned the faces of passing Gods, searching for someone who should have been here by now. Someone whose tardiness was making his own patience wear thin.

The great doors at the far end of the hall parted with a soft hum. Warm golden light spilled into the room as the God of Harvest finally stepped inside… His brother Ace.

Ace’s usual air of warmth was overtaken by a scorching barrier of heat. His robes, dyed in shades of deep red and gold, fluttered with his stride. Every step seemed to ignite with his clear frustration.

Without hesitation, Sabo pushed off the column and hurried forward, his blue robes trailing behind him in soft waves. His expression remained composed, willing his eyes to not betray the urgency of his swirling thoughts.

“Have you seen any sign of him?” Sabo asked, hoping to hear any good news regarding Nika.

Ace faltered in his stride, his fiery gaze meeting Sabo’s.

“That stubborn brat is proving to be quite elusive.” Ace muttered with a shake of his head.

The answer caused Sabo’s chest to tighten, but he shoved the feeling down to the pit of his stomach.

“That’s a good thing.” Sabo replied calmly, keeping his tone as even as possible to temper Ace’s anger. “We don’t want any of the other Gods finding him before we do.”

Ace clenched his fists, the flames of his frustration flickered at the edge of his robes.

“I know, but it’s just… difficult not knowing if he’s safe.” Ace’s brow furrowed, his eyes burning with worry. “What if he’s already been snatched away, and we are left none the wiser? It’s getting harder to balance this search with my duties. I’m doing all I can to tend to the crops in the mortal realm, but it’s tough without Nika’s light.”

Sabo’s stomach turned, his mind drifting to all the mortals who relied on Ace and Nika for food. He set his worry aside once more. Now wasn’t the time for that. Now was the time for action.

Sabo placed a reassuring hand on Ace’s shoulder, he could feel his brother’s scorching anger burning through his leather gloves. 

“If he were captured, we would have sensed it.” Sabo said lowly as he guided Ace toward the Court Chambers to avoid the prying ears of other Gods. “They would not have hesitated to bring him back here for judgment. The Council would not let that moment pass unnoticed.”

“But what if they’ve hidden him away?” Ace hissed with concern.

“If Nika had returned to the Celestial Realm, the sun’s radiance would have also returned.” Sabo stated with unwavering certainty, completely brushing Ace’s concern to the side.

“Not if he’s being held in the Underworld.” Ace pointed out.

The suggestion made Sabo freeze. His grip on his staff tightened and he could feel all the color drain from his face. He reached out, grabbing a handful of Ace’s red robes and pulled him aside to let a group of Gods pass by. Their disapproving glances didn’t escape Sabo’s notice, but he ignored them, focusing solely on his brother.

“To suggest such a thing could be dangerous.” Sabo stated gravely. He let his eye’s bore into his brothers, urging him to take this seriously. “Accusing any member of the High Council, even a former member like the God of Death or the rest of the Donquixote family, of kidnapping Nika could be seen as treasonous. You cannot make such claims without evidence.”

Ace angrily shook himself free from Sabo’s grip, his eyes ablaze with anger at being scolded like a child.

“Homing and his entire family have grown increasingly secretive since they left the Celestial Realm.” Ace argued. “Only those of their tier are granted access to the Underworld.”

Sabo’s gaze hardened, his fingers dug into his palm as his grip tightened once more on his staff.

“They’ve been shrouded in secrecy since before the Ohara tragedy.” Sabo stated firmly. “This behavior isn’t new for them.”

Ace’s nostrils flared as he took a step closer. 

“Don’t you think it’s suspicious that someone from such a high tier would voluntarily give up their status for the lowest rank?” Ace pressed, his hushed tone coming out as a hiss.

Sabo averted his gaze in annoyance. All of these unfounded theories, especially towards a God that Sabo knew was kind hearted, were sure to cause them more trouble. He returned his gaze to his brother’s.

“As the God of Death, Homing felt disconnected from the mortals because he was allocating all his time to his Advisor role.” Sabo explained, recalling the memory of when Homing announced his decision. Days later, Sabo had been so excited that the Elder’s requested Nika be prepped for the vacant position… Sabo’s heart twisted, but he carried on, “Homing believed stepping down to the Underworld would give him more access to the Mortal Realm and would help him better understand the mortals. He wanted to do all he could to ease their souls in their final days.”

“So you aren’t even going to entertain the idea that someone in the Underworld is involved in this?” Ace seethed.

Sabo shook his head.

“I won’t risk my standing in the Court by ‘entertaining’ baseless accusations.” Sabo snapped. “My position is the only thing that prevented the Elder’s from reaching a verdict on Nika’s punishment.”

Ace’s lips curled into a grimace.

“Your position is a joke.” Ace spat bitterly. “The Elders couldn’t care less about the voices beneath them. They thrive on our conflicts. They are not interested in justice or the truth-”

“Hold your tongue!” Sabo interjected sharply, feeling his temper flare. The edges of his blue robe fluttered as his powers surged. Ace fell silent, though his rebellious gaze remained. Sabo scanned the room to ensure no one had heard Ace’s comment. Satisfied, Sabo warned his brother in an icy tone, “I know my place. I suggest you remember yours. Don’t forget what happened to the last God who dared to question the Elders.”

Visibly frustrated, Ace attempted to bypass Sabo, but Sabo extended his staff to block his path.

“Don’t do anything foolish.” Sabo cautioned. “Act only with full knowledge of the situation.”

Without a word, Ace forcefully pushed aside the staff, striding towards the Court Chambers. Sabo followed closely, his robes swaying with his hurried steps. Their entrance sent ripples through the assembly of Gods, whispers rising like a tide as they ascended to their respective tiers. It felt like every eye was on them, and Sabo could feel the judgement behind their silent gazes. Despite this, Sabo straightened his back, keeping his head high and expression neutral.

Shortly after settling into their seats, the doors on the highest tier swung open and the five Elders emerged onto their balcony where their authority reigned supreme. The billowing dance of their clouded sashes enveloped them like halos, a symbol of their commanding power.

Elder Warcury stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over the Gods gathered below. The radiant light emanating from Warcury's clouded sash tugged at Sabo's heart, reminding him of Nika's absence. Memories flooded Sabo's mind of Nika's playful jests about the brilliance of light bouncing off Warcury's bald spot could put Nika’s sunlight to shame. A bittersweet smile turned the corner of Sabo’s lips, before it was swallowed by a pang of longing. Sabo's gaze drifted to the empty seat beside him, and the ache in his chest deepened.

"Sabo!"

The sharp call of his name snapped him back to the present, his attention abruptly drawn back to the Elders who awaited his response with expectant gazes.

"You have additional points to present in support of Nika’s plea for pardon?" Warcury's scrutinizing eyes bore into Sabo, while other Gods turned their attention towards him, anticipating words of wisdom from the esteemed advisor.

"Y-yes!" Sabo rose from his seat, his posture straightening as he quickly tried to compose himself. He needed to address the court formally. With a quick adjustment, he adopted a more professional demeanor, making his way towards the podium situated on his tier. Despite the racing of his heart, Sabo willed himself to remain calm. In this realm, image was everything; any hint of weakness could jeopardize his case. Sabo refused to show weakness, especially when his brother’s life hung in the balance.

Planting his hands firmly on the podium, Sabo stood tall, his unwavering gaze fixed upon the leaders who held Nika’s fate in their hands. His mind raced to as he framed the arguments he had prepared in his head, but before he could begin addressing the Elders, the courtroom doors erupted open with a deafening bang, startling everyone present.

Through the doorway sauntered a figure draped in obnoxiously vibrant pink feathers, every step leaving behind a trail of black brimstone upon the pristine marble floor. As Sabo took notice of the large bag the God carried with him, a sudden overpowering scent of perfume filled the air, causing Sabo to wrinkle his nose in distaste. It was the God of Nightmares, known for his insufferably late entrances and penchant for masking his stench of sulfur with strong fragrances. His garish appearance never fooled Sabo, he knew the God was like poison disguised in an expensive bottle of wine.

Sabo shot a disapproving glare down at the God's rude intrusion.

"Doflamingo, how kind of you to grace us with your presence." Sabo called out sarcastically from the pedestal. "Will the rest of your family be joining us? It seems they’ve been absent for quite some time."

Doflamingo sauntered past his assigned seat on the lowest tier, his ever-present smirk curling wider, as though Sabo’s comment had stirred a particularly amusing memory.

"I am essentially the backbone of everything that transpires within my father's realm.” Doflomingo stated confidently. “He trusts me to handle these important meetings on my own.” Sabo’s annoyance surged when Doflomingo took Homing’s seat with exaggerated ease, a seat meant only for the leader of the Underworld. He stretched out languidly, his pink-feathered coat spilling over the gilded armrests. “An urgent matter demanded my immediate attention, resulting in my lateness, but I wouldn’t dream of skipping another session concerning our dear Sun God.”

Sabo’s grip on the podium tightened as he fought to remain calm. He forced himself to stay composed, unwilling to give Doflamingo the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he straightened his posture, turning his attention back to the Elders, determined to keep the session on track.

“Then let’s continue where we left off, before I was interrupted…” Sabo stated firmly, addressing Doflamingo’s disruptive presence directly. “We were just about to discuss offering Nika a pardon.”

The God of Nightmares leaned back in Homing’s chair, feigning interest, his mocking gaze inviting Sabo to elaborate.

“There is insufficient evidence to convict Nika of the destruction of Ohara,” Sabo continued, his words gaining momentum. “By hastily acting on unproven accusations, we have driven him into hiding. In his absence, the mortal world suffers. Crops wither without his light, seasons falter, and life becomes increasingly unsustainable. Many Gods are struggling to compensate for this imbalance. It is in everyone’s best interest to-”

Before Sabo could conclude his plea, Doflamingo began to snicker, abruptly interrupting him again. Sabo felt his anger flare again, heating the blood in his veins.

"Do you find something amusing about this situation, Doflamingo?" Sabo demanded, struggling to maintain a steady and calm tone. His piercing gaze locked onto the other God.

The God of Nightmares sat a bit straighter in his chair, seemingly eager to engage in the confrontation.

“I simply fail to understand why you persist in defending Nika after all he’s done to your people.” Doflomingo said, feigning innocence, though Sabo could hear their venomous undercurrent.

Sabo's frown deepened, his eyes flashing with contempt towards the other God.

"As I've stated before, there is no evidence to substantiate the accusations against Nika." Sabo countered, his voice rising in intensity. "Furthermore, Nika has proven himself time and time again through his benevolence in the mortal realm. His actions have always aligned with the virtues of a God deserving of Ascension. There is no record, no proof, of him callously harming another!” 

Doflomingo’s grin widened.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Doflamingo interjected, his words dripping with malice.

Sabo furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, a sense of unease settling over him. Glancing down towards Ace's seat, he could see his brother seething with anger, heat waves practically radiating off him, causing those nearby to lean away from the stifling warmth.

Before Sabo could respond, Doflamingo rose from his seat, clutching the bag he had brought with him. With an exaggerated flourish, he unfurled the cloth, shaking out its contents. Gasps of horror swept through the court as the shocking display unfolded before them.

Sabo’s breath caught as golden ichor splattered across the gleaming white marble. The severed head of Lucci rolled across the floor, his lifeless eyes staring vacantly towards the painted ceiling above.

“It seems Nika has taken the life of one of our fellow Gods.” Doflamingo proclaimed to the court, a disturbing hint of satisfaction in his tone, provoking more horrified whispers among the assembled deities.

Sabo’s eyes widened, his heart sinking as the chamber descended into chaos. The court’s clamor began to feel distant, muffled beneath the pressing weight of his own thoughts. Nika couldn’t have done this. He refused to believe it. 

Determined to regain control of the situation, Sabo redirected his focus towards Doflamingo.

“How could you possibly come to the conclusion that Nika did this?” Sabo demanded, raising his voice loud enough to be heard above the scattered murmurs. 

"I took the initiative to dispatch Lucci in pursuit of Nika." Doflamingo explained. "As a concerned member of the court, I felt it prudent to take action on hunting down our elusive Sun God."

Sabo’s knuckles turned white from the force of his grip. He wanted to find the words to stop Doflomingo from speaking, but he was just as curious as every other God to hear if the God of Nightmare’s was successful in finding Nika. 

"Lucci was exceptional at tracking Nika’s movements and discovered the Sun God left traces of his presence around the mortal realm." Doflamingo continued. Sabo’s stomach churned as Doflamingo’s gaze flicked briefly toward Ace. "I'm certain the God of Harvest can attest to Nika's proficiency in blessing mortal plant life." 

Sabo chanced another glance at the Elders. He couldn't ignore the way their attention gravitated towards the God of Nightmares.

"Lucci’s last report placed Nika near Cocoyasi Village." Doflamingo recounted, a grim expression crossing his features. "When further updates ceased, I took it upon myself to investigate, and as you can see, the evidence of Nika's actions lay bleeding on the floor before you." He gestured to the gruesome ‘evidence’ sprawled across the chamber floor.

The murmurs of the assembled Gods grew louder, their unease growing. Even the Elders leaned closer to one another, engaged in urgent hushed whispers. Sabo’s chest felt tight, his breath coming shallow as he sensed the tide of opinion turning against his brother.

Sabo desperately slammed his hands down on the podium, the sound echoing through the chamber, reclaiming the attention of the other Gods.

"You are gravely mistaken about Nika, and your behavior during these proceedings have been nothing short of reprehensible!" Sabo declared, his gaze piercing as he confronted Doflamingo. "We will not stand idly by and tolerate your blatant disrespect towards the court!"

"I'm not the one who needs to be reprimanded. My lack of respect stems from your lack of action." Doflamingo sneered in response, his tone dripping with venomous disdain. The God turned his attention to the rest of the court. "How long will we continue to entertain Sabo's irrelevant opinions, especially given his personal connection to the accused? How long will we allow his bias to cloud our judgment?!”

The accusation stung. Sabo's anger reached its boiling point, his vision blurred with fury. To be so openly disrespected by a lower-tier God in front of the Elders as he fought to save his brother’s life was intolerable. The air around him crackled with his temper, his golden hair flickering like flames. 

"How dare you-" Sabo began, his hands trembling as he fought to keep his composure.

"ENOUGH OF THIS!" Elder Warcury's booming command cut through the courtroom like thunder.

The courtroom stilled. Sabo, suddenly reminded of his place, quickly suppressed his Godly rage. The air grew calm once more as he regained control of himself. Turning his gaze back to the Elders, he found their clouded sashes swirling menacingly around them.

"We can no longer turn a blind eye to the destruction Nika leaves in his wake." Elder Warcury declared firmly.

"But-" Sabo attempted to interject, only to be silenced by the Elder's warning glare.

"Furthermore," Elder Warcury continued, his tone resolute, "we cannot allow the mortals to live without the Sun any longer. The balance of their world is growing too fragile.” His gaze shifted to Doflamingo, who’s smirk grew wider. “Doflamingo, your father has provided this court with a letter of recommendation for your Ascension. We believe you have proven yourself a worthy candidate to replace Nika.” The words hit Sabo like a blow to the chest. Replace Nika? The idea was too cruel. Elder Warcury’s next words sealed the decision, “We will discuss your Ascension further once Nika has been apprehended and brought to justice. This meeting is adjourned.”

Sabo remained rooted to the spot, his mind reeling. He instinctively glanced toward Ace’s seat, but it was empty. Panic surged through him like a flood as he scanned the courtroom, searching for his brother. Ace was nowhere to be found. A sickening feeling settled in Sabo's stomach. He realized the decision had been made: Nika would officially face execution by the court. He could only hope that Ace wouldn't act recklessly in response to the Elders' ruling.

✨✨✨

“Zoro, you can come in now.” Koushirou called, his voice tinged with sorrow.

Zoro stood frozen before his teacher. His heart clenched painfully, a gnawing unease spreading through his chest. He knew what awaited him on the other side, and it terrified him. 

‘This isn’t about you.’ Zoro thought, willing himself to move. Kuina was the one suffering. He owed it to her to swallow his fear.

Pushing through his own discomfort, Zoro gripped the handle and pushed the door open, the hinges creaking loudly in the silence. The room smelled faintly of medicinal herbs, clean linens, and the faint metallic tang of something he couldn’t place.

His breath hitched at the sight of Kuina. She lay motionless on her futon, a damp towel resting on her forehead. Her skin, once flushed with life, now appeared waxy and stretched too tightly over her bones. The glow she always carried, the one that burned so brightly in every sparring match, was gone. Her sunken eyes fluttered open at the sound of the door, and despite everything she smiled.

“I was wondering when you’d visit again.” Kuina said warmly, as though she hadn’t noticed the time or distance between their last meeting.

Guilt stabbed deep in Zoro’s gut, twisting like a knife. He swallowed hard, trying to speak, but the words stuck in his throat. He had avoided coming for far too long, fearing what he might see… fearing the truth. This fragile, fading figure wasn’t Kuina, she wasnt the friend who had knocked him flat on his back a hundred times, who had always challenged him to be better. Yet it was her. She was here, and she needed him.

“I’ll give you both some privacy.” Koushirou said quietly, stepping back and sliding the door shut behind him with a soft click.

The room felt too still. He moved closer to Kuina, each step dragging as though his feet weighed down by his shame, his fear. He knelt beside her futon, his fists clenched tightly in his lap. Kuina was still smiling, weak and faint, but still the smile he recognized. If she could act like nothing was wrong, then he would too. 

“I wanted to see if you got your strength back.” Zoro said, his voice steadier than he felt. The ache in his chest grew sharper as he remembered the words he had overheard from the other villagers, words that said she would never regain her health. “You know, just because you’ve been sick doesn’t mean I’m gonna take it easy on you. I’ll kick your ass once you’re out of this bed. I still intend to beat you, and when I do, I’ll be that much closer to being the best.”

Kuina’s smile widened, a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“Big talk for someone who’s lost every fight.” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Hand me my sword… I can still-” She broke off, her face contorting as a sharp pain wracked her body. Her shoulders hunched inward, and she clenched her eyes shut, her breathing uneven.

Zoro rose from his seat in a panic, searching around the room for something to help, but there was nothing there. Desperate, he turned toward the door, ready to call for Koushirou.

“Please don't leave.” Kuina begged through the pain. “I don't need you to get help. I just need… you to be here… with me.”

Zoro froze, torn between his instinct to act and her request. He hated this: the helplessness, the suffocating feeling of knowing there was nothing he could do to ease her suffering. But Kuina had asked him to stay… and for her, he would.

Reluctantly, he sank back down beside her, his fists still clenched as he fought to hold back the tears burning in his eyes. Kuina’s breathing remained uneven, but her smile returned.

“Thank you…” she murmured.

The room fell quiet again, the only sound was the uneven rhythm of Kuina’s breaths. Zoro’s mind raced, searching for something to say, anything that might make this moment less unbearable, but no words came. Still, Kuina didn’t seem to mind. She closed her eyes for a moment, her expression peaceful as though his presence alone was enough.

After a while, her voice broke the silence again.

“C-could you still bring me my sword?” Kuina asked, her gaze meeting his.

Zoro hesitated, confused by her request, but he didn’t question it. Rising from his seat, Zoro crossed the small room, his footsteps unnervingly loud in the quiet room. Wado rested on the wall like a silent guardian over its wielder. Zoro lifted the sword with great care, knowing he was holding something precious.

Returning to Kuina’s side, he knelt down and held the sword out to her, both scabbard and blade cradled in his hands. A part of him wondered if she even had the strength to lift it anymore.

Kuina reached out, but instead of taking the sword, her icy hand rested over his. Her touch sent a shiver up his spine, a chill that sank deep into his chest.

“I know one day you’re going to be the best.” Kuina said softly, her eyes filled with sadness. “I’m just sorry I won’t be around to see it.”

Cold dread flooded Zoro’s veins. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling down his cheeks before he could stop them.

“Don't say that!” Zoro snapped, his voice cracking. “I can't be the best if I don't beat you! So you need to get better!”

Kuina’s smile faltered. Her eyes pained, not from illness, but from the unspoken truth they both feared. She wouldn’t be leaving this bed. Not alive.

“You can still be the best for both of us.” Kuina said, her hand tightening weakly over his, her grip so fragile it made his heart ache. “That’s why I wanted to see you one more time.” She swallowed hard, her voice trembling. “Promise me you’ll always keep Wado by your side.”

Zoro’s shoulders began to shake as he choked back a sob. His body trembled with the force of his grief. 

“Why are you saying this?! Of course you're going to get better. You have to get better. So don't talk like you're saying goodbye!” Zoro demanded.

Tears welled in Kuina’s eyes, slipping silently down her pale cheeks.

“I’m not saying goodbye.” Kuina whispered faintly. “I’m asking you to carry Wado. As long as you wield my sword… I’ll always be with you.”

Zoro bowed his head, his tears spilling freely now, falling onto his lap and the sword he cradled. His hands shook as he held it, and he bit his lip hard enough to taste blood, trying to stifle the sobs wracking his chest. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, he nodded.

The moment he did, Kuina’s hand slipped from his, falling limp at her side. Zoro’s head snapped up in alarm, but it was too late. Kuina was gone. Her eyes were closed. A peaceful smile on her face.

Zoro stared at Kuina like she was a stranger, unable to fathom what he was seeing. She would never breathe again. She would never laugh, never argue, never clash swords with him again.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Zoro knew he should call for Koushirou, but he couldn’t move. He tried to rise from his seat only to sink back to his trembling knees. It felt like he was drowning. Like he was swallowing mouthfuls of water, and everything was burning. Zoro gasped before he doubled over, holding Wado tightly to his chest because if he didn’t, his heart would splinter into a million pieces and scatter across the floor.

“Kuina…” Zoro whispered hoarsely, his voice breaking. He was completely alone.

“Zoro…” 

Zoro blinked in shock. The sound of Kuina’s voice cut through his despair like a sharp blade. 

“Zoro… They're coming.” Kuina’s voice called out, faint and hollow.

Zoro lifted his head in disbelief. The room around him dissolved into darkness, leaving Kuina’s bed and her fragile figure as the only points of light. She was sitting up now, her glassy eyes staring past him into the void.

“Kuina?” Zoro whispered, his voice trembling as he stared at her. The void seemed to close in around them.

“Zoro.” Kuina called for him again, her voice distant yet more urgent. “Wake up! They’re coming for-”

Suddenly, a crushing weight slammed into his chest, knocking the air from his lungs and jolting Zoro from the dream.

“ZORO! Are you waking up?!”

Zoro’s eyes snapped open to a blur of movement and an overwhelming sense of warmth pressing down on him. As his vision cleared, he found himself staring up into a familiar face, one with a wide grin framed by a messy mop of black hair. 

‘Luffy’ was perched on Zoro’s stomach, his eyes shining with relief.

“Zoro’s awake!” Nika cried happily. Without warning, he threw his arms around Zoro and buried his face in the crook of Zoro’s neck. "I’m so glad! I was so worried!"

Zoro blinked, dazed and disoriented, his body still heavy with fatigue. His mind swam with fragmented memories of Kuina’s voice, her warning, and the suffocating void. The sudden change in scenery left him confused. His gaze drifted past Nika to the unfamiliar stone ceiling above, the jagged surface illuminated by flickering torchlight.

"I’m so sorry Zoro got hurt!" Nika’s voice was muffled against Zoro’s neck, his arms wrapped tightly around him. Nika’s warmth was grounding, but Zoro’s mind raced to piece together what was happening.

“Hey! I already told you to give the patient some space!” A shrill irritated voice rang out from across the room.

Zoro blinked, his stiff body protesting as he turned his head toward the source of the voice. A small, reindeer-like creature stomped toward them, balancing a tray of herbal remedies. Its fur bristled with irritation, though its round eyes betrayed a hint of worry. The creature glared at Nika, but Nika seemed oblivious, holding onto Zoro as if he might disappear.

Zoro gritted his teeth as he shifted upright, pulling Nika with him. The dull ache in his shoulder flared momentarily, but he ignored it. His sharp eyes scanned the room, taking in the unfamiliar stone walls and the faint flicker of firelight from a stubborn hearth. The sharp scent of herbs hung in the air, mingling with the faint chill carried by the moonlight filtering through a narrow window. It was a strange place, but at least it felt secure.

“Where…?” Zoro rasped, his throat too dry to finish. He glanced at Nika, needing answers.

Nika pulled back just enough to meet Zoro’s eyes, his own wide and filled with a mixture of relief and worry. 

“We made it to the city Nami told us about,” Nika explained quickly, his voice trembling ever so slightly despite the wide smile on his face. “We’re safe now.”

Safe…

The word should have been reassuring, but it didn’t settle the unease in Zoro’s chest. The lingering warning in his dream still clung to him like a second skin. He tried to shake it off, telling himself it was just a nightmare, but the feeling of something watching, advancing closer, remained.

Zoro pushed the thought aside. It was only a dream. He knew other Gods, besides Lucci, would be after Nika. After what they’d faced, his dream merely intensified his protectiveness over Nika. His instincts screamed at him to be more vigilant, more prepared. For now, he needed to know what had happened after he’d blacked out.

His gaze returned to Nika, who was perched comfortably on his lap, their faces inches apart. The God’s auburn eyes gazing into his own.

“What happened?” Zoro asked, his voice steadily growing stronger.

Nika shifted, settling closer as if to anchor himself. 

“Zoro was hurt really bad.” Nika admitted softly. His gaze flicked away, his grin faltering for the briefest moment, a shadow crossing his expression, but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by a brighter smile. “But Zoro’s okay now! I made sure of it! Oh, and I found an awesome doctor!”

“S-shut up! Flattery won’t work on me!” The small creature snapped, though it seemed more flustered than angry. Its eyes softened before it added, “But seriously, don’t go jumping on the patient’s chest! You could’ve suffocated him!”

“Nuh-uh!” Nika replied definitely, puffing out his cheeks. His arms tightened around Zoro’s shoulders, his legs wrapped snugly around his waist. “Zoro’s strong! He doesn’t mind. Right, Zoro?”

Zoro opened his mouth, ready to agree, but his voice caught in his throat. His awareness sharpened, not just to the room, but to the way Nika clung to him. Arms draped over his shoulders, legs encircling his waist… it was an utterly compromising position, yet Nika didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he did and didn’t care.

Heat crawled up Zoro’s neck, and he stiffened. He had finally admitted it to himself in the moments before he lost consciousness that he was in love with Nika. At the moment, the realization had felt enlightening, but now it left him feeling vulnerable in a way he hated. Now, here Nika was, impossibly close, oblivious to the loud drumming of Zoro’s heart. A drumming so loud, he feared his heart may burst from his chest.

Zoro forced himself to look away, focusing instead on the stone walls, the window, anything but Nika’s earnest eyes. 

He had to change the subject.

“Were you hurt?” Zoro asked. 

Nika shook his head.

“Zoro was amazing.” Nika said, his tone softening. “You protected me. Even when I asked you not to… you didn’t let him hurt me. You were so strong, Zoro.”

The warmth in Nika’s voice made Zoro’s chest tighten painfully. He wanted to believe the words, but he felt like a failure. He had been injured and Nika was the one who had to carry him to safety.

It was as if Nika could read Zoro’s thoughts, or perhaps he could read his face, but the God’s grip on him shifted, his hands moving to cup Zoro’s face, gently forcing him to look back into his eyes. 

“Zoro’s here with me.” Nika's eyes shimmered as if holding back his own tears. “That’s what matters.”

Zoro swallowed hard, the tenderness in Nika’s gaze almost too much to bear. He wanted to say something, anything, but his throat felt too tight. Instead, he nodded, keeping his longing locked behind a stoic mask. 

For now, it was enough that Nika was safe.

[Next Chapter]

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

I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.

[soothsaver]

could  that  really  be  PIHLA,  the  HEALER  of  WINTERFELL  entering  the  keep  ?  king’s  landing  is  sure  to  benefit  from  the  thirty  four  year  old’s  ability  to  be  adaptative  but  beware,  whispers  also  say  they  have  been  known  to  be  mysterious.  their  loyalty  belongs  to  THE  NORTH  and  are  indifferent  to  the  ruling  of  house  targaryen  throughout  westeros.

i.  dossier

full name: pihla (/ˈpiç.lɑ/) meaning: rowan tree title: none alias(es): the soothsayer, the witch from frozen hells age: four and thirty  birthdate: unknown; supposedly between the fifth and the sixth moon of the westerosi year 24 ac. gender & pronouns: cis woman & she / her   orientation: heterosexual, demiromantic   religion: the old gods  languages spoken: the old tongue, the common tongue  occupation: woodswitch healer allegiance: the north

ii.  physicality

notable features: bright shock of red hair. height: 5’7, 170 cm   build: tall, curvaceous. eyes: light brown. hair: her hair is licked by flames, an inheritance from her wildling mother yet is is very curly, inherited from her father's own curls. she usually wears it in northern braids. wardrobe: she is not picky with clothing, nor the most fashionable. will wear any scrap of fur she finds, and always lines her clothing with it; besides fur, leather and cotton are her most worn textures and she tends to wear darker clothing in the shades of blacks, browns, greens and blues. 

iii.  ties

father: asmund of skagos mother: thistle siblings: none known marital status: unmarried   children: unnamed babe (dead in the cradle c. 55 ac) relatives: none of note; considers her companion wildlings as kin 

iv.  personality

abilities: although she carries no supernatural ability that she knows of, her kinship to healing and herbology akins her to a wise woman, and her queer knowledge rumors claim her as a dark woodswitch; she can also sail through rough waters and chart the stars. moral alignment: tba positives: tba negatives: tba pass times: tba wields: always carry with her a pouch of herbs, two vials with one sprinkle of poisonous herbs and another of dried herbs for good doing; also carries a dragonglass blade on her waistline. inspirations: mr. & mrs. everdeen ( the hunger games ), alys rivers ( asoiaf ), freydis eriksdotter & leif eriksson ( vikings valhalla ), the soothsayer ( varangian ), iseult ( the last kingdom ).

v. background

tw : death, infant death, illness, religion.

born from a skagosi who wandered through rough waters beyond the wall and a wildling woodswitch, pihlalearned of love through the veils of temporarity — it is never to last, not even that of a woman and man, or mother and daughter. still, she learned as much as she could from both mother and father until they were both to part — father for a trip that he never returned to, and mother from death’s arms. from her father, she learned the language of the stars and of the sea, of the common tongue and of the world beyond; from her mother, an old seer, she learned of the old gods, of the old tongue and of the old world, of plants and of their proprierties. through the world, she learned of its people and what they expect of you, not always in the sweetest way possible.

her mother's so called witchcraft kept her partially safe in those early years of life. people came for her for their future and for their past and for their present, and, soon enough, they would also come to trust on pihla to help them with the same, though she would think of herself less remarkably accurate than her mother. still, she noted on what her mother said, of what would one day come. she was never wrong, even if she was sometimes fuzzy.

when the woman was long passed and pihla had done well in estabilishing herself as a woodswitch and a wise woman around her parts, a man in black came to her doors. nearly dying, she took him in and healed him until they became one, over and over. he would come to tell her more about the other world, the one she knew only so much about. about lords and kings and crows and dragons; she was taken with him as much as he was with her, or so she had assumed. love is not to last, and he returned to the watch, leaving his dagger with her and a seed within her.

the babe was born during a rare warm day. pihla's world stopped and she thought no more of prophecies and of the gods, only of her beautiful son and of the life they were to lead together, forever. she was not wise, of course. the gods are demanding and took her child, a sprout dead before its time. those were her mother's words. run when the sprout is dead, she had said. run to your father's world before the chill catches you too. although heartbroken, she did as she was told; garnering supplies and making her way to the edge of the world she knew, where the great rough seas meet snow. throughout the path, she told of what she knew, and those who believed the old seer's words followed her.

with a handful or two of people, they built a sturdy ship and made their way to skagos. from skagos, to eastwatch by the sea. flocked by crows, they were only able to survive the day because pihla spoke of her own man in black, showed his words written on rough paper. that was enough for an audience with the head crow, and with the king of the north — nay, the lord stark. the chill, my lord. the dead with it, they pleaded for reprieve from the world across the wall. somehow, the lord stark's heart softened and they were given refuge; for however long his heart remained soft, that is.

though a small path of land was bregundingly given to the refugees by the watch, pihla could not bear to stay in lands infested by crows — her heart still ached for what she lost and there was a whole world to see that she had one day dreamed of. so she was allowed to accompany the stark retinue out of the wall and, alone, she perigrinated through northern towns, offering her gifts to those who would have her. the illness that coarsed the north did not touch her — she had already seen and survived it before, and knew how to see and survive it again. many, many did not. she touched and healed those she could, as best she could, yet the number of those who perished was great.

when she was summoned by the lord stark, his wife was one of those who did not survive. pihla knew so as she saw the woman, but she was able to bring the stark child back to life and their life tied with hers; his survival was enough to keep lord stark's heart soft towards her. for now. going further south is not something she had expected, but she abides to her new sire's words; she has always been heedful, after all. for as long as this one lasts.

[ethereousdelirious]

For Ace Attorney fics, I would love to read about Miles violently puking from food poisoning and being cared for by Phoenix. Any form of emeto story about Detective Gumshoe would also be appreciated.

Can’t wait to read your stories, so pumped to see AA sickfics! :)

*CLAWS MY WAY OUT OF HELL AND EMERGES, FIC IN HAND* IM HERE I HAVE IT ARE YOU STILL HERE I HAVE IT FOR YOU

I am. SO SORRY. it took me so long to get this done skdhshhd

I couldn't think of anything for Gum/shoe this go around, but here's the Nar/umitsu! Feel free to drop another request for our favorite detective and hopefully I'll be in a more ✨️creative headspace✨️ upon receipt

CW: emeto (if that wasn't obvious lmao)

This was not how the evening was supposed to go.

When Miles had suggested a date, a proper date, he'd had his heart set on fine dining and privacy. No distractions. Just a quiet restaurant where he and Phoenix could finally, finally emerge from the smoke of their tumultuous lives and learn who they each were when the world wasn't on fire.

Of course, nothing could ever be so simple.

Miles had, at first, attempted to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. Phoenix had that unfortunate effect on him these days, particularly when he lost that hard look in his eyes and remembered to smile. It made him look younger, more vibrant.

The smiles had come more freely as the wine flowed, but tapered off as the sensation in Miles’ stomach grew stronger and stronger— not butterflies, but nausea.

Now, as he clutched the siding of Phoenix's run-down little rental, Miles could only pray that Phoenix's loyalty, which had withstood so much over the years, would hold up.

He stared down at the bark mulch as the warm evening breeze kissed his skin, cooling the sheen of sweat on his face.

“Oh, uh. Is it happening?” Phoenix asked from somewhere behind him. Or beside. Hard to tell with his hair in his face.

Miles swallowed down a wave of brackish saliva with difficulty as his stomach turned over. It wasn't that late. With the porch light on him, any passing neighbor could glance over and witness the scene.

“I mean…” Phoenix's house keys jingled. “Can you make it inside?”

Miles’ stomach gave another sickening lurch and he tried to shake his head, and pitched forward so hard his muscles burned and still, and still—

The first dry retch was so violent it made his ears ring and he nearly lost his balance from that alone. Phoenix caught him under the other shoulder just in time to witness Miles vomit properly. He almost gasped at the sensation of his stomach slamming inwards on itself, could do nothing but cling to Phoenix as wave after wave of bile and acid forced itself up his throat.

Somewhere beyond the misery, beneath the squeezing agony in his stomach and the burn in his throat, something cool brushed the nape of his neck— Phoenix's hand, steadying him.

Miles coughed up another wave of stomach acid and keened, the sad little sound forcing its way past his gritted teeth.

The weight of Phoenix's unanswered question sat at the bottom of his belly, unperturbed by the nonstop retching. The night breeze cooled Miles’ sweat-slick cheeks. Anyone could see them out here. “Ye— es,” he coughed, and forced himself to straighten. A deep breath kept him on his feet, that and Phoenix’s vice grip on his shoulders.

They shuffled over the threshold and the unfamiliar scent of Phoenix’s home washed over him— Although not wholly unfamiliar. Phoenix… Phoenix smelled like this, his suits… Under the cheap cologne he sometimes remembered to splash on, yes, Phoenix smelled like this.

The gentle scent was wasted on Miles and his aggravated stomach, but it was… It was nice and it was Phoenix and the taste of bile choked it all out as his stomach gave another feeble heave. His lips parted and his body wrenched, but nothing came up, and thank God for that.

“So I guess the oysters were off,” Phoenix mused, and Miles couldn't stifle the nauseated groan that crawled out of him. He managed to direct it a little, into a pained, “Do shut up” and promptly had to follow his own orders to keep the product of another retch from staining Phoenix’s cheap laminate flooring.

“Right,” said Phoenix, and pulled Miles forward. Miles stared at the scuffs on Phoenix's dress shoes, watched the ratty laces flick with the motion of his legs. And Phoenix muttered something that sounded disturbingly like “...just cleaned the toilet, too…” and Miles fell to his knees.

…In Phoenix’s defense (ha), the toilet was remarkably clean. Miles promptly defaced it with a mouthful of— Well, better not to think about it, actually. His forehead hit the seat; he fumbled for the lever to flush the damned thing and Phoenix made a little noise and guided his hand.

Once the roar had died down, Miles opened his eyes and watched the ripples his breath made in the water. He couldn't move. Didn't want to. What was the difference? Either way, he was stuck on his knees in Phoenix Wright's bathroom while the man himself hovered behind him, coughing awkwardly and clearing his throat like he couldn't stand the silence.

“I'm sorry,” Miles said into the toilet.

“Oh, it's no big deal,” Phoenix said. “A little bleach and it'll be good as new.”

Miles groaned. Half out of exasperation and half from the crescendo of cramps squeezing his abdomen. “The date, Wright. I'm sorry I ruined our date.”

“Oh!” Phoenix shifted slowly, bringing his heat and his weight closer and closer to Miles’ side. “You didn't ruin anything.”

“You're not… not that good at bluffing.”

“Okay, well. I'll admit, this isn't my first choice of evening activities. But I don't think you have anything to apologize for.”

This level of grace was not something Miles would have extended in the opposite direction. Not without a good deal more huffing and crossed arms, anyway. Lesson learned.

His stomach having settled somewhat, Miles shifted his weight backward until he found the wall. Cold sweat crawled on his skin— everywhere. His face, his back, his chest, all of it slick with sweat. He must have looked disgusting, and there was Phoenix, ever by his side.

“Bet you didn't plan on staying the night so soon, huh?” Phoenix said, and got to his feet. “Sit tight; I'll get you some water.”

Miles began to shiver in the time that Phoenix was gone, and by the time Phoenix returned, he'd started shaking so hard that could barely hold the glass. This was the worst part about being ill. Not the vomiting, though that was unpleasant. No, it was the weakness.

Phoenix had to help him raise the glass to his lips, help him stand, help him to bed.

They both stayed quiet throughout this process, save the occasional murmur from Phoenix, requests and intentions. And through it all, Phoenix had a look on face that said almost as much as any words could, the sort of tender pity generally reserved for loved ones.

Somewhere under all the pain and nausea, butterflies filled Miles’ stomach.

Phoenix knelt beside the bed now. He reached out a hand and brushed Miles’ cheek, like something out of a dream. “How are you feeling now?”

Sick, embarrassed, wrung out beyond belief. But safer now, too. Miles studied his hands where they rested atop the duvet (Phoenix's duvet). “Better,” he said. “A little better.”

Phoenix had him, after all. He'd be okay.

[omegaremix]

Summer 2005 Mixtape.

Captain Beefheart “Hey Garland I Dig Your Tweed Coat”

Albert Hammond Jr. “It Never Rains In Southern California”

Monks, The “Higgle-dy Piggle-dy”

Eric Burden & The Animals “Sky Pilots”

AC/DC “Hell’s Bells”

Sex Pistols “Silly Thing” (Steve Jones VOX)

Captain Beefheart “Host The Ghost The Most Holy-O, The”

Harold Budd & Brian Eno Ambient 2 (The Plateau Of Mirror)

Vincent Gallo “Honey Bunny”

My Bloody Valentine “I Only Said”

Eluvium “New Animals”

Vincent Gallo “Laura”

Brian Eno “Under Stars I & II”

Ministry “Bloodlines”

My Life With The Thrill Kill Kult “The Days Of Swine And Roses”

Throbbing Gristle “What A Day”

Scorn “Still Life”

Napalm Death “Armageddon X7”

Scorn “Heavy Blood”

Brainbombs “Die You Fuck”

Ministry “Where You At Now? / Crash And Burn / Twitch”

Throbbing Gristle “Very Friendly”

Cubanate “Industry”

E-Craft “Brich Es! (Lights Of Euphoria RMX)

God Module “A Night Like This”

Lights Of Euphoria “Sex”

Decoded Feedback “Relic” (Din Fiv RMX)

Cubanate “Skeletal”

Lonnie Liston Smith & The Cosmic Echoes “Summer Nights”

Idris Muhammad “Crab Apple”

Nas God’s Son

Lonnie Liston Smith & The Cosmic Echoes “A Chance For Peace”