Morii is a peaceful kwami, and though he likes to play around with the other kwamis, he is very chill about it. Morii is not emotionless, but he often underreacts to whatever is happening around him. He always keeps his cool even when facing a problem. Due to the nature of his power, Morii refuses to use his power or have a holder, and he would only lend his power if there are no other options left. Because of this, no one knows what could happen if Morii used his power without a holder.
Hooray, I can finally post this! A good while back, my friend asked me to help her design the main character of her solo passion project. It still has a way to go, but I’m really excited to see where she takes it!
Peter would be lying if he said that eating breakfast with Aunt May and Tony Stark wasn’t awkward. For several reasons. Not only was Tony Peter’s every fantasy, but he was also Aunt May’s boyfriend. If Tony was eating breakfast with them, it could only mean one thing. That he had stayed the night, with May, in her bed, doing the inevitable. At least he couldn’t hear them. However, having breakfast with the man that just ...did that… with his Aunt is a bit too much for Peter to handle. He’s a little jealous, a little protective, and super uncomfortable. Peter didn’t know if he should be angry because Tony Stark slept with Aunt May or because Tony Stark slept with Aunt May. Peter ate his cereal as fast as he could.
“Slow down or you’re going to choke,”
Peter almost did choke when he heard Tony say that (Peter could think of something else he’d like to choke on).
The smile that flitted across Tony’s face told that he was joking. It’s hard to smile with a mouthful of food. Peter tries anyway. The way Tony tries to stifle his laugh tells Peter not to try again.
One big swallow and the cereal is gone on a trip to Peter’s stomach. Peter doesn’t notice how Tony’s eyes follow its journey. Instead, he rushes to clean up his dishes and get out of the apartment.
“What’s the hurry, kid, are you that excited to go to school?” Tony asks,
“Uh, yeah. Yep. I love school. Can’t wait to go, I think we’re dissecting frogs today.” Peter was not looking forward to dissecting frogs. Did he say too much? Did Peter just make it awkward? He cringed, trying not to make it too obvious (it was).
Tony just nodded and turned back to his coffee.
“Bye, Aunt May!” Peter called out the hall. Peter turned before he left, “Uh… Goodbye, Mr. Stark.”
“How many times have I told you to call me Tony? Mr. Stark was my father.”
Peter was already halfway out the door. He hummed in response and was gone. Tony simply shook his head and smiled into his coffee.
Peter’s junior year was not being kind to him. He had for some ungodly reason (scholarships) decided to take all AP classes while he was on the debate team, which can be surprisingly demanding. At least Peter wasn’t lonely. He had made a decent number of friends, and he shared classes with most of them. Granted, Flash was still a major douche, but MJ was always a nice refresher. And Ned. God bless him. Ned’s had Peter’s back since the seventh grade; Peter would be lost without him.
“Dude, did you hear? Someone let all the frogs out!” Ned excitedly told Peter, grabbing a seat at the lunch table.
“Seriously?”
Ned nodded.
“Oh, thank god. I was getting sick just thinking about those poor frogs.” Peter sighed in relief. He glanced around the cafeteria - he could tell kids were already speculating who did it. There was something - or someone - missing.
“Where’s MJ?”
Ned’s smile dropped.
“You don’t think…She wouldn’t… Would she?”
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Peter shrugged. While MJ is usually more of a silent brooding type, she’s also the type who things dissecting live frogs is cruel and inhumane. If MJ really thinks something is wrong, she’ll do something about it.
“I mean, it’d be really cool if she did, but I don’t want her to get in trouble.”
Peter shrugged. The chance of it being MJ was high. Who knows, maybe she’ll get away with it. Wouldn’t be the first time.
The cafeteria doors burst open. The principal walks through, dragging one reluctant young girl behind her. MJ.
“Oh, ho oh you are in a load of trouble now, young lady. Wait until your parents here about this!”
MJ follows her silently, sending a shrug in Peter and Ned’s direction.
“I guess that answers that.”
After a tortuous day at school, Peter is finally able to go home. He can’t wait to get home, take off his shoes, and watch Netflix. Since all the frogs were released from the science room, they had to write a 500-word essay on why it's bad to tamper with school property. Peter’s glad the frogs are okay, but he could have done without having to write a paper.
Even before Peter enters the apartment, he can smell something cooking. May doesn’t cook often; does that mean that Tony’s here? Peter fumbles with his key for a second before getting it in the lock. Tony is a great boyfriend, but he’s May’s boyfriend. As much as Peter would love to come home from a long day at school and have a home-cooked meal with Tony, and then maybe some more, he knows he can’t. Besides, Tony would probably think that Peter is just some dumb kid. At least, that’s how he treats him.
“I’m home,” Peter calls as he walks inside, kicking off his shoes. As he guessed, Tony is in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove, stirring something. It smells delicious.
“Oh, hey kid. I’m making paella. It’ll be ready soon.” Tony doesn’t even look over his shoulder.
Peter nods, even if Tony can’t see him. Instead of going to the table, Peter opts for the couch. Pulling out his phone, he scrolls through his insta feed. Like, like, like, meme, meme, ad… It quickly becomes boring. Where’s May? Why hasn’t she said hi to him yet? Peter’s about to turn around and ask Tony when he hears the front door open.
“Peter, I didn’t know you’d be home yet!” May comes in carrying several bags of groceries. Peter gets off the couch to help her, reaching for a bag. “Tony offered to make dinner while I ran errands. Isn’t that the nicest thing?” May goes to give Tony a kiss after Peter takes the bags.
“Mhm,” Peter hums in agreement, trying to focus on where to put the milk rather than his aunt kissing her boyfriend (and Peter’s not-crush (crush)).
May moves to leave the kitchen, but before she makes it one step out, she clutches her stomach and grabs onto the table to stop her fall.
“May!” Peter and Tony both cry out, both reaching for her. Before either can do anything, May is waving them off.
“I just got a cramp, I’m fine. Let me go wash up,” May turns to smile at them, “Then we can have some of your delicious paella.”
While neither man wants to let it go, they both back off.
Dinner is only a little awkward (read: very).
For the most part, no one really says anything. There’s a bit of small talk, in the beginning, the mandatory ‘how was school,’ or ‘how was work,’ and obligatory ‘it was fine,’ response. The rest of it is spent without conversation, and only the sound of forks scraping plates and the hum of the refrigerator fill the would-be silence.
They all finish dinner fairly quickly; Tony is a great cook.
“Thanks for the dinner, babe,” May tells Tony while gathering up the plates. She does stop to give him a peck on the cheek. Peter looks away (Tony looks at him)
Tony stands, reaching for the plates in May’s hands.
“Let me,” He tries to take them from her.
“Nuh-uh, you cooked, I do the dishes,” She says it like the idea of Tony doing the dishes is ridiculous. “Peter, why don’t you help me.”
Peter just nods, already pushing his chair out.
“And what will I do?” Tony asked, opening his arms to gesture around the small kitchen. May smiles.
“You can stand there and look pretty,” She winks. Peter needs to leave.
Thank god for Peter, the two don’t flirt too much while they do the dishes. Peter works fast, power rinsing the plates and practically throwing them on the drying rack.
When they finish, Peter starts backing up towards his room. And bumping into Tony. Warm hands grab his shoulders, stopping him from leaping away.
“Where’re you going, kiddo?” Tony’s breath brushes against the shell of Peter’s ear.
He actually gets goosebumps, physical goosebumps, from an old man “whispering” in his ear. God, he hates himself.
“I have homework,” Peter tries, hoping Tony will never let go of him.
Tony lets him go, slowly, his hand gliding from Peter’s bicep to rest on his shoulder. He squeezes, once, twice, and then moves away. Peter turns and hightails it to his rooms.
Peter spends the rest of the evening in his room, trying to work on his paper, and also avoiding seeing May and Tony be all lovey-dovey on the couch. He doesn’t get much of his paper written, because try as he might, he can’t stop thinking about Tony.
Tony standing behind him, his hands gripping his arms. His body heat seeping through Peter’s cardigan, his breath hot against his ear. Peter really hopes he wasn’t blushing. Even now, just remembering Tony that close, practically holding him, Peter’s face heats up.
It takes Peter a while to calm down after that, and after some… erhm… Peter time, he feels like he can finally focus on his paper. He writes about two words before his door is being opened and Peter is so thankful that he was actually working on his paper and not working on… that other thing.
“Hey Pete, just came to say goodnight. May’s already in bed, she had a pretty busy day.” Tony opens Peter’s door wider and invites himself in.
“Yeah, uh… Goodnight, Tony.” Peter shifts awkwardly in his chair, his hands gripping the seat at his sides. He doesn’t look Tony in the eye. Instead, he looks at his wastebasket next to his desk. There a crumpled up tissue and Peter thinks he’s just punishing himself by looking at it.
Tony doesn’t leave for a second, just stands there looking at Peter.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, kid.” Tony finally leaves, the door clicking as he closes it shut.
Peter stops holding his breath, which he didn’t even realize he was doing until Tony left. Oh god. Peter feels likes such a loser. His eyes prickle and his throat feels tight. Is he really going to cry? Peter stumbles off his chair and onto his bed, turning off his light on the way. He curls up under his comforter, trying to steady his breathing so he doesn’t cry. Why is he so pathetic?
Eventually, Peter falls asleep, and he doesn’t even cry! Morning Peter will be proud of nighttime Peter.
It’s around 2 am when Peter’s door is slowly opened. Light shines in from the hallway, and someone steps inside. Peter tries to open his eyes, who’s coming in this late?
“Peter,” someone sits on the edge of his bed. It’s Tony. “We have to go to the hospital, but we’ll be back tomorrow.”
Peter sits up, his eyes cracked half open. “The ‘ospital? Why?”
Tony’s silent and he visibly tenses up. “May coughed up blood. She says it’s nothing, but I’m going to take her anyone.”
Peter’s awake now. “Blood?” he’s pulling his blankets back, preparing to get out of bed. A hand on his shoulder stops him.
“You don’t have to go with us, Peter. It’s probably nothing.” Tony’s voice doesn’t make it sound like nothing.
“I’m going,” Peter shrugs Tony’s hand off, getting out of bed. “May’s my Aunt and she’s all I have left.”
Tony stays sitting on Peter’s bed for a second as if he wants to protest. Instead, he just nods.
“Alright, kid. I get it. I’ll let you get dressed and we’ll go.” Tony leaves, closing Peter’s door behind him.
Five minutes later, they’re in Tony’s car, Happy driving them to the hospital. It’s a quiet ride, everyone’s too scared to speak. Tony tried to play it off as no big deal, but Peter doesn’t believe that.
Peter doesn’t like hospitals. The fluorescent lights emphasize how sickly everyone looks, and they bug his eyes. Everything is so… white. The floors, the walls. Doctors in lab coats are loitering around, it must not be too busy at 2 am. There are some drunks who go in and out, but other than that, it’s pretty empty.
They sign in and move to the waiting room. There are a couple of other people; an old lady who sits perfectly straight and taps her slippered foot; some guy who’s passed out, his head hanging over the armrest; and a couple, probably in their thirties, holding hands. Peter sits in an uncomfortable chair and watches the clock slowly tick, tick, tick.
Twenty-four minutes and sixteen seconds after sitting down, a nurse calls May’s name.
“Why don’t you stay here and wait, kiddo.” Tony stands, his hand resting on May’s lower back.
Peter starts to protest but May cuts him off.
“We’ll be out soon,” May says, making Peter close his mouth.
Peter nods, slumping back into his chair.
After the first thirty minutes, Peter becomes too worried to play on his phone anymore.
When the first hour passes, Peter can’t sit still anymore. He stands, stretching his arms over his head.
There’s a vending machine down the hall, and Peter doesn’t realize he has no money until he’s already decided on a Butterfinger. Peter reluctantly returns to the waiting room.
Eventually, Tony and May return. They don’t look great.
“Come on, kid, we’re leaving.” Tony doesn’t even stop walking, instead, going ahead of them and pulling out his phone.
“So, what’s wrong?” Peter asks, saddling up next to May. She doesn’t look great.
“They don’t know yet. The had to run some tests, and we won’t know till next week.” May glances at Tony, and there’s something in her eyes that Peter can’t quite place. An arm is slung around him and May is resting her head on Peter’s shoulder. “Come on, peanut, it’s been a long night, and you have school tomorrow.”
The next day, they all have bags under their eyes. Peter has a piece of toast for breakfast, kisses May goodbye, and leaves for school. It may have been awkward before, but now it’s tense. Peter can’t focus at all in his classes. Ned asks him what’s wrong, but he just shrugs in reply.
At lunch, he doesn’t eat.
Tony isn’t making dinner when Peter gets home. May decides they should order Thai and watch Jeopardy! No one disagrees.
The night becomes warmer, Peter and Tony actively competing during Jeopardy! (although Tony might be going easy on him) and May just laughing whenever Peter wins. It’s pretty funny when a junior in high school knows more than a 40-something-year-old tech genius billionaire.
“I would like to thank the academic decathlon, and of course, my Aunt May, for making me join.” Peter bows and pretend accepts his winning trophy.
The rest of the night is filled with laughter, and for the first time in a while, Peter feels like they’re a real family.
For the rest of the week, they all keep trying to distract each other. It’s been laughter and smiles, each one ignoring what they’re thinking about. At night, Tony holds May closer in bed. Peter cries himself to sleep, thinking about if he lost his aunt, the one family member he has left.
On Thursday afternoon, May gets a call from the hospital. It’s kind of fuzzy after that, only one word makes it to Peter’s brain before his ears are ringing and his breath is shortening. Cancer. Aunt May has fucking cancer.
Nothing more beautiful than the scents and sights of the fleeting moment of weekday mornings. Perhaps if there’s still time, we can stay a bit longer in the sheets and make it a memorable morning?
