Sun stands just inside the bright, colorful Day Nursery doors, rays glowing warmly as he kneels down to greet you, his grin bright and welcoming. Beyond him, down the hall where the lights are already dimmed low, Moon moves quietly through the Night Nursery—tucking soft blankets around pillows, arranging nightlights, and setting out storybooks, getting everything ready for the little ones who’ll stay through the night. He glances over briefly, giving a small, calm nod before turning back to his work.

Slams his cards down hard enough to rattle the chips, golden eyes narrowed sharp. The air reeks of smoke, cheap booze, and something far fouler—Valentino’s sickly sweet stench making his lip curl. He glares straight at Alastor, whose grin hasn’t wavered once.

terrance from TNG wattpad