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ackerfics · 3 years

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the parent trap — levi ackerman (iv)

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

— warnings: angst??? and feels, i think

— summary: after assuming that everything was starting to shift further away from the plan, the people in the ackerman estate found out the identity of the boy mirroring the twin they know so well.

— word count: 8.6k (i know, i had to do it bc it's been so long)

— author's notes: finally, after weeks of not touching this series, i finally updated it. this part is centered around the reveal in levi's side of things. to those who watched the movie, you know things will go down from here. happy reading everyone !!

part one | part two | part three | masterlist

The news that was dropped on Altair last night stole away every ounce of sleep from him.

At first, he felt like everything collapsed on his shoulders. His mum is getting married? In what universe? There wasn’t even a decent man in a five-meter radius around his mother, well, except for her employees at the bridal shop. Nonetheless, all of the men trying to court her were turned down in an instant but why was she getting married to an idiot when he was away from home? The number of times he ran his hand through his hair and wishing everything was perfect can’t be counted on his fingers. First, it was that Cindy woman and now, an unknown man wooing you with serenades and God knows what in London has added himself in the list of pesky outliers. There shouldn’t be outliers in the first place. Throughout the night, Altair made his mind busy by making adjustments in their plan, eyes fixed on the ceiling in concentration.

The next thing he knew, daybreak dripped on his eyelids, peeking through the spaces between his curtains. Altair sat up on his bed and rubbed his eyes free of sleep crust before turning to his alarm clock on the nightstand. A red 9:34 glared at him, telling him he overslept. The boy huffed and plopped himself back on the plush mattress, his pillows swallowing him whole as he tried to give himself more hours of sleep. His five-minute doze was interrupted with a knock on his door. It took everything in him not to shout ‘five more minutes' so he decided to might as well wake himself up by walking to the door and answering the person on the other side.

Petra’s face beamed at him and Altair had to narrow his eyes because Petra’s smile was too bright for his own good. It was like looking too long at the sunrise.

“Good morning, Al!” the redhead greeted him.

“Morning, Petra,” Altair replied, rubbing his eyes again. “I’m sorry I overslept.”

Petra waved him off. “It’s fine. I expected it yesterday since you just came home from camp. You must be so tired. Why don’t you go take a bath and change and come downstairs for some breakfast? I’m sure this will wake you up — I cooked your favorites.” The boy nodded at her suggestion. She tried teasing him by calling his name again, Altair turning around to acknowledge his nanny with a raised eyebrow. “You know, I’d probably oversleep, too, if I were up in the middle of the night making mysterious phone calls from my bathroom. It’s pretty quiet in here at midnight so I think that pretty much exposed you.”

Altair froze at Petra’s inquiring tone, blinking his speechlessness. In an instant, he doesn’t feel sleepy anymore. He scratched his undercut. “Uhm, it was a friend from camp. He just wanted to talk to me, that’s all.”

The redhead hummed as she crossed her arms. “Ooh-kay. Well, your breakfast will be waiting on the kitchen counter!” She shouted while making her way downstairs.

“Okay!” Altair yelled back.

He opened his closet and took out a blue flannel, a white undershirt, and a pair of jeans. Without wasting any more time, Altair got himself ready by taking a bath just as Petra suggested and made himself presentable once he reached the kitchen. His hair was still wet, a towel wrapped around his shoulders when he inhaled the savory smell of breakfast on the first floor. As Altair sat on the high counter stool, Petra turned around from cutting up fruits and placed too many plates in front of the boy with a smile. He couldn’t control the twitch in his eyebrows as he stared at his breakfast. Is his twin really eating this much food every morning? He realized he might be coming off as rude since he was only staring at the number of bacon slices on his plate so Altair took a bite of bacon and let the sound of knives against the cutting board flit through his ears.

“Petra?”

“Hmm?”

“Can I have a cup of rose tea?”

Petra stopped cutting the mangos and stared at Altair, who was immersed in doing small bites of his breakfast. The redhead stared for a moment and assessed the way Altair picked up his fork and knife — it was the same way a certain someone did back in college when Levi’s friend group and lover ate meals together. Now that Petra remembered it; when you gave birth to the twins, she mentioned how one of them inherited the shape of your eyes. It could be a trick of the light but Altair’s eyes were softer in the edges instead of the sharpness Levi adorned, the boy’s eyelashes slightly fuller than usual.

“Petra?”

The said woman jumped at the mention of her name, with Altair’s face scrunched up in worry at her lack of response. She cleared her throat while transferring the mangos in a small bowl, sliding it towards Altair. “Yeah?”

The silver-eyed boy rose an eyebrow. “Are you alright? You look like you were in a trance there.”

“I’m fine.” Petra washed her hands before wiping them dry with a clean towel. Her gaze went from the boy’s expectant stare to his unfinished breakfast. This was weird. Altair usually never leaves any leftovers on his plate, it was what Levi taught him since he could eat on his own. Pushing this matter at the back of her mind, she smiled. “You’re not going to finish that, Al?”

Altair looked down on his half-eaten scrambled eggs, bacon slices, and still full pasta salad. He only had a couple of bites from the last dish and wished he could eat more but the two slices of bacon and scrambled eggs made him full in an instant. His stomach couldn’t handle too much in an early hour. He needed the tea to wash all this down. “No, I’m not, I think I’m full,” he answered, patting his stomach with a grin. He hoped Petra wouldn’t notice that his appetite wasn’t like his twin. That idiot (his twin, never Petra) appeared small like him but the buffoon has a vacuum inside his torso, always hungry at the wee hours of the day. If this was roast beef, this was a different story. “Must be because I’m tired from the trip. I don’t feel like eating and moving around too much.”

Petra nodded in understanding, preparing the rose tea the boy requested. She was waiting for the water to boil as she glanced at Levi’s pride and joy. “So why rose tea?”

“Pardon?”

Pardon? With a suppressed chuckle, Petra turned around with an incredulous expression on her face. “Camp made you prim and proper, huh? So why rose tea, champ?”

“Because I thought it would be nice to try the flower teas instead of the fruit-flavored ones this time. I know Dad has been experimenting with flowers for the next blends.”

Petra hummed, letting the tea steep for a few minutes. The scent of roses immediately wafted across the kitchen, making the two sigh in contentment. Petra wasn’t one for tea but smelling the pink drink made her want to try one. She presented the cup of rose tea to the black-haired boy, who was leaning forward to finally have his drink, his silver eyes sparkling at the small petals floating on top of his tea. Petra knew she was watching Altair closely but all her doubts flew out the window when she witnessed the boy hold the teacup the same way Levi does. Maybe she was looking into this too much. She shook her head and took away the leftovers, placing them in containers.

She missed the way Altair blew out a sigh of relief, a small half-smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

Altair stood up from his seat, patting his lap from imaginary dust and placing the towel from his shoulders to the back of the counter stool. He took a long sip of his tea before grinning widely at his nanny. “Thank you so much for breakfast, Petra!”

“No problem, kiddo. Oh, and your Dad wants to talk to you about something. He’s in his office.”

“Okay!”

The black-haired boy walked past the archway leading to the living room, where the glass double doors to the patio were located. Snuggling on the floor and chewing on his toy was Levi’s golden retriever, Captain. Altair flinched when he saw the dog shift their head in his direction. A series of barks came out of the pet, making the boy hurry for the handles of the double doors. His heart was pounding when he couldn’t get the doors to open, pulling on them as Captain was now standing up to give him another round of barks. It caught the attention of Petra and the woman instantly shot to the living room but not before shouting something that made Altair’s ears turn red of embarrassment.

“Push, Al.” Petra was now wrapping her arms around the dog, eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

Altair stopped for a moment, twisting the handles of the double doors and pushing them just as Petra said. He turned around with a sheepish smile, chuckling nervously because this mistake might have lost him the plan. “Must have slipped my mind.” He had never gotten out of a house that quickly in his entire life.

Only when he stepped foot on the patio that he could breathe normally. Altair kicked a pebble on the pathway, hands snug inside his pockets, as he thought about what his father will tell him. He followed the pathway until he was met with a slope, a building looking the main estate was sitting on top of the small hill overlooking the plantation. With a bundle of nerves swirling in his stomach, Altair took a deep breath and trekked the hill. The higher he got, hectares of a variety of tea trees greeted his vision, mimicking the sea with its vastness. It was the first time he saw something so wide and before he knew it, questions started entering his mind.

If the Ackerman family held so much money, why did his grandparents make his mum go back to London? Why did they take away the only person who made her feel loved in every sort of way possible? She could’ve been happy here. Everything is so soothing and secure.

The sound of people talking snapped him back to reality. Altair shook his head and continued his small walk towards the building. It looked like there was more activity in here than he imagined. People were sorting out the tea leaves they harvested and others were manning a machine meant for grounding the leaves. It was so busy that he didn’t realize he stopped in front of the huge window showing all of the employees trying to keep Levi’s business booming.

A person rounding the building noticed his gawking and smiled a little. They clutched the flowers they picked for the new blends Levi was experimenting on and went to the black-haired boy. “Al, welcome home. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here yesterday to welcome you back.”

The silver-eyed boy turned around to the young woman sharing his features — the same jet-black hair, pale complexion, and shade of silver for the eyes (though hers were more on the bluish side of the spectrum). He tried recalling the family members his brother told him to remember. There was a woman with the same appearance in one of the pictures. She was hugging the Altair she knows, their smiles shining through the piece of shiny paper. She was the older cousin his twin was telling so many stories about since she was the only one closer to his age around the household. The Altair standing in front of her right now smiled, muttering her name, “Mikasa.”

Mikasa returned the smile with her own, sitting on her heels to meet the boy’s eyes. “How was camp?”

“My opponent in a fencing competition pushed me in the washing area of our pavilion.”

Mikasa winced, ruffling the boy’s hair gently. “Why did they do that?”

Altair shrugged, feeling proud of himself for doing that to his twin despite being guilty to this day. “Guess he was better than me at fencing. He has a teacher specifically for that sport back in their hometown.”

“Oh, wow. If you want someone to practice fencing with, I’ll gladly help you.” The young woman tilted her head with a smile. “That is if you want to go back to that camp next summer. I’ll even learn the rules for you.”

The older of the two had so many records in her portfolio. Altair recalled that his brother was gushing about how Mikasa was a part of the track and field team the entirety of her stay in college. She was also a part of a volleyball club when she was in high school. This young woman has everything in her belt and it would be so good if Altair practiced fencing with her. However, he also realized that Mikasa probably had her hands full with academic and familial responsibilities. “But you have your final year in college, though, and you’re so busy in the plantation.”

Mikasa once again tousled Altair’s hair, chuckling under her breath. “Anything for my baby cousin so don’t worry about it.” She looked down at the pile of flowers in her arms. She handed a single red lily flower to Altair. “Here, to brighten up your day.” Mikasa stood up and waved at Altair. “I’m testing these flowers out with some berries, kiddo. I’ll be in the kitchen by the sorting room with Annie. If we can get the right combination, we’ll let you try some. Your dad is in his office waiting for you.” With that, Mikasa turned around but not before ruffling Altair’s hair again.

Altair nodded at nobody in particular and entered the building with a slight skip in his steps. The office was situated on the second floor of the manor-like establishment. The color palette of red and olive green was still observed in the interior but the large, open balcony let in enough light to illuminate the second floor. There was a railing surrounding the middle space of the entire floor, perfect for looking down and observing the bustling life inside the house. Altair’s destination, however, was the door to the left side of the second floor down a painting-covered hallway. He tentatively knocked on the door with his father’s name pinned on it. Altair faintly heard someone call inside the room and opened the door to peek his head in.

Levi was behind his desk, phone close to his ear. “Yes, Erwin. I thought you will be visiting because of Altair today. I see. No problem. You can visit the plantation anytime.” He glanced at the opened door, seeing Altair meekly staring at him. He smiled a little before telling Erwin, “Al’s here. Yeah. The stocks are fine and the new blends are coming out great. Sure, I’ll send you some. Bye.” The silver-eyed man sighed as he placed his phone on the desk. “You can come in, Al. Usually, you just barge in here and wait for me on the couch.” Levi hummed, eyes softening at the sight of his son grinning in front of him.

Altair chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “I thought it was an important call.”

“It was just Eyebrows.”

“Whatever you say, Dad.”

The boy sat on the couch, eyes inconspicuously roaming around the office. He heard the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and Altair looked up to find his dad preparing a cup of tea in the kitchenette installed in the room. He looked away from Levi and shifted his attention to the framed photographs on the desk. Everything wasn’t facing him but there was one frame positioned to face the person behind the desk. Altair craned his neck to get a glimpse of the picture, his eyes going back and forth between the frame and his dad, who was waiting for the tea to steep. With his body draping over the couch and neck stretching as far as he could (the position was starting to hurt), Altair saw that it was a picture of you, his mum. The silver-eyed boy gasped because it was you in a wedding dress.

“Blimey.”

“Al?”

Altair dropped the position with a huff. He straightened himself to face a confused Levi, a tray of two teacups filled with raspberry tea held by his hands. “Thought I could just, you know,” he nervously chuckled, “get a good stretch after oversleeping. So what’s up, Dad?”

Levi hummed, placing the tray on the low table. He sat beside Altair, body facing the little boy as he surveyed the innocent smile plastered on his son as he sipped on his cup of tea, the two of them mirroring how they held their cups. Maybe it was because Al went away for summer camp in the last eight weeks or maybe he was just missing you and your presence in his life, but Levi felt his heart clench at how fast his little boy was growing. The summer camp must be a blessing in disguise because his boy came home with newfound manners and the whole time he was away, he thought hard enough to make a decision he won’t come to regret. Eight weeks was a long time, things are bound to change. So Levi cleared his throat and readied himself in spilling his carefully thought-out plans to his son.

“There’s something really important I want to talk to you about, Al,” Levi started, putting this teacup back on the low table.

“That’s funny because there’s something really important that I want to talk to you about.”

“Yeah? Well, you go first, kiddo.”

Altair shook his head rapidly, gulping down his tea first. “No, you first, Dad.”

“Hmm.” The black-haired man carefully formulated the words in his mind. The first order of business was to cut off any people who would dare hurt his son. Yesterday was just the catalyst in his ongoing debate with Petra all summer to get rid of the publicist leeching off of him. From the look on Altair’s face while he was wading in the pool, Levi figured that Cynthia said something to him that might have shaken his mind. He leveled his gaze with Altair’s and told him, “Okay, I want to talk to you about Cynthia, the hired publicist for the teahouse and plantation.”

The boy turned his body so that he was seeing his father eye to eye. “And I wanted to talk to you about Mom.” Altair furrowed his eyebrows in distaste. “Oh, so Cynthia’s her name. What about Cynthia?”

Levi blinked in surprise. He knew Altair was a smart kid but he didn’t expect him to pick up on things so fast. There was no one in the estate that he shared his current sentiments. Petra was known to be a person not careful enough to keep a secret hidden from Altair and Erwin will most likely tease Levi throughout the day if he revealed his plans. Not to mention that Mikasa will probably indulge his kid in spilling every embarrassing thing about him so that makes his niece out of the list of people worthy enough to be told a secret.

With a calm voice, he regarded his little him with a flat expression. “What about your mom?”

Altair groaned in exasperation. “Dad, I’m almost twelve. I’m at a point in my life to ask about the whereabouts of my mom. You can’t expect me to believe the stork story all my life!”

A slow inhale and a look at the ceiling was all Levi needed to compose himself. “You know what, that is a story for later. But first, we’re going to talk about the publicist. Did she say anything to you? Anything that might have hurt you in any way yesterday?”

One pair of gray eyes looked away from the other to examine the invisible dust gathering on top of the coffee table. Altair wanted to tell Levi that Cynthia was trying to exploit him, trying to wound him in her trap and to make him fall in love with her. But the way that his father was insisting on the topic of Cynthia instead of you didn’t sit right with him at all. To Altair, it looked like Levi was desperate to clean the woman’s name and to make him build a relationship with her when the time comes that she’ll be carrying the Ackerman name. He mentally apologized to his other half across the ocean for not having the strength to continue the plan. Because as he glanced at Levi, the man’s concern apparent on the glint of his eyes, Altair wanted his father to be happy — to love someone without any pain that spanned for more than a decade.

“No, she didn’t say anything to me. She just told me how happy she is to be on the plantation.”

As much as he was scared to be a father when his boys were born, Levi always knew if his son was lying after years of raising Altair alone (with the help of Petra but the nanny will always give him the credit). Right now, however, he couldn’t tell if Al was lying or not. “Al, are you telling me the truth? If not—“

The door burst open, bringing with it an overly dramatic woman. “Levi? Are you here, sweetie?”

Eld followed after Cynthia, his face betraying his aggravation at the woman. “Don’t just enter Levi’s office without permission, Ma’am!”

Cynthia scoffed, insulted at the term. “'Ma’am’?! I’m not that old, employee.”

The blonde man bristled. He tried puffing his chest to remind the publicist that he has more authority than just a last-minute accommodation in the staff, but he stopped when he saw Levi starting to stand up from the couch. He had never seen his boss express anger in his years of being Levi’s secretary, however, the apparent look on the onyx-haired man will probably drive Cynthia more than six feet under the surface. Eld dismissed Cynthia with a roll of his eyes, focusing on the annoyed man walking towards them with terrifying footsteps. “Levi, she just went inside the building. Believe me, we were trying to prevent her from getting her head cut off by you but she wouldn’t listen!” The blonde glared at the woman who was gasping dramatically, manicured hand pressed on her chest. “Levi, you have to believe me. Mikasa even had to—“

“I understand, Eld.” Levi’s voice was uncharacteristically icy. Sure, he was known for being blunt and dismissive at times but that was the man's nature in forming social relationships. The employees were used to him being that way. Right now, though, his glare could have frozen Cynthia in place. “What is this, Miss Maryland? I thought I told you to leave a message to my secretary if you want to have an appointment with me. But I remember telling you that I’m not free this day.”

Cynthia pouted. “But I also told you that I wanted to have lunch with you! Is your job more important than me? Or are you just using that as an excuse to not make time for me?”

Eld looked scandalized at the woman’s reaction while Altair was wincing at the sound of Cynthia’s whine.

Levi was praying for his ears as well, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm himself down. He looked at Altair at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t recall you being on my priority list, Miss Maryland, and I have plans with Al today anyway. Horseback riding.”

“You’re lying!” The woman turned to Altair. “Is this true, Al, darling?”

The boy quickly took note of the hint of desperation from his father’s eyes so he smiled. “Yeah, I’ll be riding Nox since I miss my horse while I was at camp.”

“You heard my kid,” Levi drawled. “Now get out. You’re invading my privacy — sounds fitting for your job.”

Cynthia’s face scrunched in disgust, turning around abruptly, her hair hitting Eld in the face. The blonde man sputtered before incredulously staring at the retreating publicist. There wouldn’t be any need for Mikasa to restrain her if needed since she knew the way out. Eld turned back to Levi and Altair, his face showing how guilty he was. “Levi, I’m really sorry. If I’d known she’ll barge in here like this.”

“No, it’s fine. Thank you, Eld.”

“Alright.” Eld trailed off, shifting his attention from Levi to Altair. He waved at Levi’s son before pointing at the door behind. “Have a great afternoon, you two.”

Levi nodded at his friend, sitting on the couch with a sigh when the door closed. He had to get rid of that publicist, she was starting to become a headache. Levi then felt a small weight on his shoulder. Turning his head to the side, a head of onyx hair greeted his vision. With a small smile, he lifted his arm and wrapped it around Altair, letting him snuggle into his side some more. The two of them cherished the silence as if the room was their haven, away from pesky publicists and the bustling activity a floor below.

Speeding through the plantation felt liberating for Altair. He wanted to raise his arms in the air as they zoomed by the small tea trees but that would mean having Levi being suspicious of him. At first, Altair thought that the predicament with Captain would be the same with Nox but the black beauty of a horse nuzzled his palm affectionately as if he was the real owner. Of course, it couldn’t happen without the help of the sugar cubes laid out on his palm. Now, he was laughing as he raced with his dad, their destination was the hill on the other side of the plantation. It looked like Levi was winning but Altair tried to spur Nox faster. A blur of black reached their landmark, a tree with a swing on it, and Altair whooped at the top of his lungs.

“I won!”

“You always win,” Levi told him, a loving stare directed at his son.

Altair turned his horse to meet Levi’s stare. “I do?”

A confused frown painted the silver-eyed man’s lips.

At that, Altair brightened immediately, realizing his mistake. “I do! Just slipped my mind again. I can’t seem to stop forgetting things. That’s so weird.”

Levi guided his horse to walk towards Altair’s. “Yeah, so weird,” he murmured until he was beside his son. They stared at the plantation with varying expressions. The boy looked so mesmerized at how the sun touched every single tree while Levi blankly surveyed the rows of what brought him to this moment. It was once upon a time when he brought you here during spring break in junior year at college, telling you his dreams of starting a tea plantation. You looked radiant against the sunset, the rays creating a halo that Levi wanted to preserve forever. Altair’s laugh when he won has the same smile as yours when you manage to outrun him in a race. Levi couldn’t help but think of a life with you and the twins here in the plantation and estate, the two boys growing up with each other and with both parents unlike now. The four of you wouldn’t experience the pain brought by the separation. But reality struck him hard when Altair breathed out an expelling sigh, eyes soft around the corners like yours.

“So, Al, do you think we’re lonely?”

The said boy looked at his dad, who was wistfully looking at the plantation like it was hurting him. “I don’t think so.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Altair’s grip on the reins tightened. “Why are you asking this, Dad?”

Levi took a deep breath. “Believe it or not, Al, but I feel lonely every night. The moon and the stars must be tired of my internal monologues to them, all wishing to have a normal night with our complete family. But with Maryland here, there seems to be someone at the back of my head telling me to make a move. You know what, Al, I want—“

“Race you back to the ranch, Dad!”

“What—wait, Al! Hey, slow down, kiddo!”

Tears were starting to blur Altair’s vision as he rode around the plantation. No, the plan wasn’t going to work. His twin brother was a liar when he said he had an amazing and genius plan. Everything was starting to burn in flames and Altair had no choice but to watch it fester until only ashes remain. When he reached the stables, he tied the reins to the post with hurried yet precise knots. And Altair ran and ran. Up the slope leading to the manor, past the building where the workers were happily interacting with another until he felt himself bumping into someone. He brushed off a concerned Mikasa shouting at him to slow down. Minutes later, Levi passed by the fretting young woman, the latter asking if Altair was alright. But the onyx-haired boy finally reached the safe confines of their manor, passing by the opened double doors. He started pacing around the living room.

Altair buried his hands in his hair, his accent coming out as he rambled. “This isn’t going the way he expected it to. Bonkers, this is a mess! I’m just a kid and I couldn’t handle everything at once. Now, Mum’s getting married to a person I don’t know and Dad is tying the knot with Cindy—Cassandra—whatever!” He leaned on the back of an armchair, body slumping on the plush cushion. “And I don’t even know Dad as much as he does. How am I supposed to fix this?”

“What are you trying to fix?” Petra suddenly appeared in the armchair. (She was there all along but she figured that by keeping quiet, she will learn more about why Altair acted strangely since he came home.) The redhead stood up, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you want to share something with the class, Al?”

Altair jumped back, placing a hand on top of his pounding heart. “You gave me a fright, Petra.”

Petra leaned back with an expression of disbelief. “What? Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to talk to me about? If you’re scared of your dad finding out your secrets right now, you can always tell me.” Altair remained silent as he stared wide-eyed at the nanny and housekeeper. “Care to explain to me why Captain doesn’t like you anymore when he has been with you since you were a toddler? Or how you can’t open the doors properly? Even your appetite change this morning. I have so many questions, Al, and it all stemmed from when you came home. Do you know something we don’t?”

The boy shrugged. That didn’t seem to alleviate the suspiciousness he carried. “I just changed over the summer, that’s all.”

Petra slowly took a step forward and tilted her head down to meet Altair’s eyes. “I’m starting to think you were raised …” She shook her head to dispel the thought and turned around to make herself busy in the kitchen. “That’s impossible. Never mind. I must be needing sleep from all these theories.”

“I am raised by who, Petra?”

She waved her hand to dismiss the question. “Forget it, Al. I’m not supposed to talk to you about this anyway.”

“Like I’m raised by [Name] [Last Name]? Like I’m the other half of one pair of twins?”

The redhead tensed at the question, her smile frozen in place. She managed to blink herself outside of her stupor, slowly regarding the onyx-haired boy, who was gradually turning into an image of you. Those eyes, though sharing Levi’s stormy irises, were reminiscent of your kind ones — always appearing as soft as they can be despite the intensity of a present glare. Petra was at a loss for words and she had to clear her throat a couple of times to find her voice. “How do you know her full name? How do you know that you have a twin, Al? How do you know about—?”

“About Caelum?” The boy pursed his lips, forcing himself to smile. He dropped the act because there was no use continuing their charade any further. Besides, this is Petra, the most loyal person from what he could observe during a full day in the Ackerman estate. She reminded him of Oluo, the way they stuck to each parent almost every day. His British accent came out when he said the next words, “That’s because I am Caelum.”

If this wasn’t a serious situation, Caelum would’ve laughed at Petra’s reaction.

“Altair?!”

Levi looked around when he stepped foot on the patio. However, he was surprised at the peculiar scenario welcoming him in the living room — it was as if Petra was looking at his son for the first time in years. The redhead had both hands covering her mouth, tears prickling her eyes, and an expression showing disbelief. He rose an eyebrow in incredulity because nobody paid him any attention. With measured footsteps, Levi placed a hand on his son’s shoulders, making the boy jump a few inches in the air.

“Hey, buddy,” his voice was so soft since his boy looked shaken up just as much as Petra, “why did you take off on me like that? I told you I wanted to talk to you about something.” His son looked up at him with wide eyes so Levi expectantly glanced at Petra. The woman was still silent with that constipated look on her face. “Petra, do you need to take a shit? Why are you looking at Al like that?”

Caelum was breathing heavily, eyes pleading with Petra to let him tell Levi the truth.

With a subtle nod, Petra wiped her eyes and turned to Levi, who had his face scrunched in perplexity. “Like what? I’m not looking at him in a special way.” She shrugged but with one look at the bright-eyed boy beside her friend, her voice started to falter. “I’m looking at him like I’ve looked at him for eleven years. Since the day he came home from the hospital, all wrapped up and squirming for contact with his parents.” Petra looked like she could cry any minute. (Levi was staring at her like she had grown a second head. He was ready to give her a day-off.) “Seven pounds, five ounces, 21 inches long. This is how I look at him.”

Caelum felt himself smile as Petra gestured at him.

“Can I hug him?”

Levi blinked and stayed silent for a second. He lifted his hand from his son’s shoulder and stepped back since Petra wrapped the boy in a tight hug. He felt the back of an armchair behind him, leaning against it with a sigh. “Everybody’s so weird.”

As the woman continued hugging Caelum, she exclaimed, “Oh, he’s so beautiful and he’s grown so much.” The boy nuzzled his head on the crook of his nanny’s neck, a large smile painted on his face.

For once in his life, Levi wanted to sleep the day off. Maybe everything might go back to normal.

Petra pulled away from the hug, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. She pointed at Caelum while trying to control her voice from shaking. “I’m going to make you something special to eat. What do you feel like eating? Anything? You know what?” She waved her hand once she reached the entrance of the kitchen. “I’ll just whip up something from everything we’ve got, okay?” With a last nod and an apologetic smile directed at Levi, Petra went to the kitchen whilst wiping her tears, leaving behind the two Ackermans’.

Now that heartfelt moment ended, Levi knew he had to tell his son what’s weighing on his mind for the past years. All it took were eight weeks for him to steel himself in making a choice he won’t come to regret. If only he had done this when you gave him your back, a baby looking like him snug in your arms and reaching out to a father he won’t come to have. If only he had chased you to London, fighting for your love in front of your parents, promising a life filled with enough luxury for your newfound family. If only he had the strength back then, none of this would’ve happened. So Levi gently directed his son to the couches, sitting in front of the boy on the low table. Their gazes matched each other and it looked like Levi was staring at his younger self.

“We have to talk.” The onyx-haired man’s voice was so soft, matching his visage that was contorted in slight wariness and expectation.

Caelum nodded. “Okay. Shoot, Dad.”

Levi nodded back. “I’ve been thinking about this since you were a toddler and this summer was the only time I could focus on debating with myself on it.” He took a deep breath, his heart thundering in his chest, and his cheeks burning. “Al, I want to get back together with your mom.”

The whole world stopped. Caelum stopped breathing for a few seconds. There was a lack of emotions inside him at first, him just staring like an idiot at Levi. Suddenly, he felt like jumping but that would look suspicious so Caelum abruptly stood up in front of his dad, tingles traveling in every fiber of his body.

“Al?” Levi asked, confused at the constipated look on his little boy.

Bright gray eyes stared back at Levi, Caelum’s grin erasing every doubt in his father’s body. “This is perfect, Dad!”

“It is?” The onyx-haired man trailed off before perking up a little, a small grin tugging his mouth upwards. “Yeah, it is. I decided that I will do everything right this time and have our family back again.” He looked down wistfully on the floor, fingers wringing with each other. He murmured under his breath, “I wonder how Caelum’s doing right now. Will he like me? I’m not exactly awarded with the best father of the year title.”

On the other hand, Caelum heard it and he couldn’t help but grin knowingly. He erased that on his face when Levi looked up at him. “So, Dad, what are you going to do about Cindy?”

“What about the publicist?”

Caelum sat back down, leaning forward to enunciate his next words. “Well, it’s quite obvious that she’s so enamored by you.”

Levi scoffed a disdainful laugh. “Why would she? I’m not interested in her in some way. I don’t even like women her age.”

“That’s the thing, Dad. I heard from her yesterday that you’re planning on telling me something. I figured it would involve her since she suggested it. It might be a different thing than what you told me right now.”

“Oh, that. I decided, with the help of Petra and the other workers, that you will be the face of the tea shop. Since I am not too comfortable with the idea of having my pictures posted on every branch, a majority vote prompted you to do the job. But Mikasa suggested that we also do that by putting you in the new label design. It doesn’t have to have your face on it, just your silhouette. I think Isabelle will do that well enough.”

“So,” Caelum prolonged the word, “you’re not engaged to her, right?”

Levi looked ready to barf his lunch. “What? Where the hell did you get that idea?”

A sheepish smile prevented the laugh that was bubbling in Caelum’s chest. “I tend to overthink at times, Dad.”

The silver-eyed man sighed, running his hand through his hair. “You get that from me.”

“I asked you that because yesterday, she told me you proposed to her because you wanted me to have a mother figure. She even told me you dated because you liked her at first sight. She mentioned that you went horseback riding in the sunset like a typical chick flick pairing and there you confessed that you felt lonely because Mom left you. Oh, I mustn’t forget how you reciprocated her feelings under a moonlit night. Hey, Dad, where are you going? Dad?”

“Don’t mind me, Al, I’m killing a bitch this afternoon and it’s best if you stay put while I do that.”

“Dad?!”

Cynthia Maryland is a fucking menace to society.

It has been so long since Levi met a person who just by talking, brain cells are diminishing at every word they utter. The first one who made him feel this way was a genius, however, they were too much for his social battery. They always hung off of him at times during college all because they were your childhood friend, who followed you to America to make you feel like you had someone in a foreign country back then. That was seen as endearing but this time, it’s fucking irritating. Levi didn’t even have to control himself from showing how much he wanted this meeting to be over.

“Miss Maryland, can you please listen to me for one second?” Levi spat out, the stress coming to him in a migraine.

“I am listening, doll, and I guess those plans with Altair didn’t happen because you have me in your office — doors closed and just the two of us,” Cynthia spoke in a sultry voice that didn’t have any effect on the man slumped on his chair. “I will do anything for you, Mr. Ackerman.”

“Thank God for that.”

Cynthia was over the stars at that statement.

“Because I believe it’s time for your job as my shop’s publicist to be terminated. So I suggest getting out of here.”

“What?!” The brunette all but shrieked.

At the commotion, a knock resonated in the room. “Levi, is everything all right in there?” Mikasa asked. “Do you need me to restrain her?”

“No need, Mikasa,” Levi answered, not looking away from the distressed woman squawking in front of him. “Hey, Maryland, what are you whining about? Didn’t you hear what I just said? You’re fired. What are you still doing here?”

“Pray tell, why are you firing me?! You need me!”

Levi rose an eyebrow. “Why would I need you when I have capable people working on the plantation right now? It was a mistake hiring you. Eld was actually the one who wanted to have a publicist for the tea shops and if my secretary said it would be beneficial to the business, I will always say yes. But I guess he hired the wrong person. As for the question of why I fired you, let’s just say, you were spewing things that weren’t even true. And of all people, you said those things to my son. What are you trying to gain from telling him we’re fucking engaged? Money? My last name?”

The brunette remained silent, angry tears dripping on her cheeks.

“Let me tell you this, Miss Maryland, you’re not worth those things. So if you don’t want me to get fucking angry at you, get the fuck out.”

While the whole debacle with Cynthia was happening in Levi’s office, Caelum was in the kitchen rolling a pin over a chunk of dough. The silver-eyed boy was helping Petra with the afternoon snacks, something that the nanny suggested since Caelum looked bored out of his mind, staring into the high ceiling of the living room while lying on the long couch. Only half an hour passed since Levi stormed into his office, demanding Eld to contact ‘that hysterical fucking woman’, and only two batches of apple turnovers were ready for the oven. There were a lot of workers on the plantation, all of them having big appetites, so Caelum and Petra had a lot of work to do.

Caelum just finished his story of meeting Altair for the first time and his shoulders felt so light after spilling everything out.

Petra pensively gave Caelum a wistful glance. “I’m happy that you two found each other.”

The boy looked up at the redhead. An air of earnest gratitude exuded from her, the idea of two twins reuniting was worth being happy about. Petra wasn’t the only one thanking the moon and stars for granting a request, Caelum felt like his world expanded because of that summer camp. “I am happy, too. I got to meet you, Mikasa, and the workers. I want this stay to last longer than a day but Al and I will eventually go back to our rightful homes.”

“Why are you being sad, kiddo? Didn’t Levi tell you that he’s planning on courting your mom again?”

“That’s the thing,” Caelum mumbled. The dough became too thin to wrap around apple fillings at the force he was pressing down on the rolling pin. He sighed, starting over again. “Mum is engaged to someone in London. I can’t even do anything about it.”

Petra hummed casually. “But Altair can.” Beside her, Caelum once again shifted his attention from the dough to her side profile, making her smile. “One thing I know about Al through the years is that he will do everything to make his plan a success. That brother of yours is a stubborn kid but he’s determined to fulfill his goal, which so happens to be what Levi’s planning, too.” She placed the knife on the cutting board, leaving the apples unattended, and faced Caelum with a half-smile. “How about this, you want to make this a success?”

Caelum nodded.

“Then tell your dad who you really are.”

The boy’s eyes widened. “No!” He looked down, cursing himself for raising his voice at Petra. “I mean, he’ll be mad for sure.”

The redhead chuckled before pointing a ladle at Caelum. “That’s where you’re wrong. Levi was always praying every night to have a glimpse of his other son across the sea. Now that you’re here, you’ll be giving him the happiness he always wanted for eleven years. He deserves to hug you, knowing who you are.”

This is how Caelum found himself standing in front of Levi’s bedroom. It was inevitable anyway — his dad finding out his real identity. Letting out a sigh, Caelum twisted the doorknob with clammy hands, opening the door to the image of Levi reading a book on his bed. The boy smiled when Levi looked up at the sound of the door opening.

Levi took off his reading glasses and smiled. “Hey, kiddo, come in.” He lifted his covers as an invitation for the tentative boy. When Caelum got on the bed, Levi placed his book on the nightstand along with his glasses. For a moment, he only looked at his son with soft eyes as Caelum adjusted the duvet to cover his lap. He pulled him close with an arm around the boy’s shoulders, letting Caelum relax against him. “Did you have a nightmare?” Levi felt his son shake his head. “Is something bothering you?” At the silence, Levi looked down on Caelum's onyx hair. He kissed the side of the boy’s head. “I hope you will feel better once we spend the rest of the day tomorrow.”

“I can’t, Dad, I’m sorry.” It was a low murmur that Levi had to crane his head to hear. “I have to go somewhere tomorrow.”

“And where will this somewhere be? Is Mikasa going with you? Or did Petra invite you to go get the groceries?”

The silver-eyed boy squirmed out of Levi’s hold, burying himself in the think blankets.

“Al? Are you feeling unwell? Kiddo?” Levi tried tickling his son’s sides but was only met with muffled laughs. “Al.”

A British accent enveloped the words Caelum uttered next, “That’s where I’m going! I have to go see Altair.”

“And where might Altair be?”

A pause. “In London.” Levi froze. “With his mum, [Name] [Last Name].”

It was as if cold water surrounded Levi, dunking him in a fever dream. It was too good to be true. Of all the surprises he received for the day, this is by far the most responsible for taking away his voice and steady breathing. He couldn’t think properly at the revelation. So this was the reason why Petra looked like she saw the boy for the first time because she did, after eleven years. His heartbeat echoed through his chest, making a duet with his clattering mind. Levi didn’t know what to do. Should he embrace the son he never got to hug in almost twelve years or should he stay quiet and let the night go on, pretending that this was a dream? His eyes started to burn with unshed tears as he carefully lifted the edge of the duvet off the small figure lying beside him. There was no way this was happening. But as he finally got a glimpse of his son staring up at him, eye shape boring some similarities to yours, Levi let out a shaky breath.

“Caelum?”

Caelum sat up. “Yes, Dad?”

Levi’s vision became blurry, arms instantly wrapping around Caelum. He hugged him tightly, worried that this might be a trick of his loneliness, that this was Altair pretending to be his twin to make him happy. But no. He knew Altair like the back of his hand and if he hugged him like this, the little brat would whine at the long physical contact. This was Caelum, hands gentle like yours as they patted his back. He didn’t know he was crying until Caelum rubbed rhythmic circles on his back to calm him down.

“Al and I met at camp and we decided to switch places.” His breath hitched, nuzzling his head on Levi’s chest. “Dad, I’ve dreamt my whole life of finally meeting you. Seeing you waiting at the airport nearly made me cry because you were exactly like Mum’s vague stories. And Al wanted to meet Mum as well so we sort of made the switch impulsively.”

Levi pulled away, a smile present on his face. “Who exactly made this plan?”

“Never in my life would I suggest switching places with my twin. I told Al this is an idiotic plan yet here we are.”

Levi snorted a laugh. “Of course it’s Al’s idea.”

“But Dad …”

“Hmm?” The man waited patiently for his little heaven to speak up.

“I hope you’re not raging at the moment because I love you so much and I just hope that one day, you will love me as me — not as a mirror image of Al.”

Levi pulled Caelum again in a hug, kissing the boy on the crown of his head. “Did you know I was the one who named you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Since your mom named Altair after a star, I thought it would be best if you were named after the realm the star is situated. You’re my little heaven, Cae, and nothing can change that. I’ve loved you your whole life. Stop being a mopey little brat — I meant that term in the most endearing way possible because your mother was the original one, she was my pain in the ass — and give your dad another hug.”

Caelum felt like he forgot something, choosing this moment to never mention you being engaged to someone and instead chose to let his dad’s warm hugs lull him to sleep.

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Text

I'M BACK!!! 🥰😍❤ Did you all miss me? I'm happy to say that I've finally gotten some WiFi where I'm currently living and updates are gonna try to be more steady here in the future but I can't make any promises because I get very busy with my work 😅😇 Please continue to bear with me!

In other words, a while back I wrote the OG version of this little short fic on A03 but I realized that I had never posted it here! 😱 Nevertheless, I decided to write the Part 2 to this and then decided to remaster that first part before posting it here! 🙂🙂🙂 I'm thinking about turning this into a little mini series 🤔🥰

Anyways, I'll stop rambling! Please enjoy! 😚

Pillarroomates (Chapter 1: Roommate wanted)

(This is dedicated to Dagdoth and Sureynot; 2 of the best bad influences I could ever ask for 🥰😍❤)

The steady click-clacking of keys filled the pleasant silence of the little kitchen, Kars typing away on the laptop before him at the table.

It was just a little after noon, a time where he usually put down his work for a brief session to sit back in silence and enjoy a cup of coffee, or maybe a mug of tea depending on his mood, with whatever baked-good had been whipped up recently. Today however, he chose to cut his little break out of schedule completely to get a jump on the deadline of the month that he was currently picking away at.

Hunched over, eyes glued to the screen, one could've swore he was a living statue perched like that so quietly if it weren't for his typing fingers.

The sweet smell hanging in the air came much closer as Wamuu strode over to the table, a soft smile was painted across the mans lips as he placed an oven fresh cookie on a plate down next to the mug of black tea his Master was letting steep at his side.

"Thank you, Wamuu." Kars said quietly, watching the blonde depart in his peripheral vision for only a beat before regaining his sharp focus on the sea of numbers staring back at him.

Kars had his own room with a desk to work in of course but he always found himself enjoying doing work down here this time of day. The heavenly smell of the kitchen when something was being baked and the pleasant background noise of the radio chiming softly, sometimes accompanied by Wamuu humming along, was something sort of relaxing to Kars.

Relaxing around here tended to be something rare too, as there never seemed to be a dull moment in the lives of the Pillarmen these days.

Not in this neighbourhood, no.

The younger man hummed in response, heading back to the stove to finish scraping fresh cookies off the pan to place on a rack to cool. He was sure Santana would make an appearance soon to try one, with the lovely smell filling the air and all.

Santana could never stay asleep (as heavy of a sleeper as he had the tendency to be) holed up in his room when there was something yummy being cooked.

The times where he appeared the quickest was when Kars flicked on the coffee machine first thing in the morning, the red-head manifesting at his side at the very first spew of hot caffeine never failed to nearly give him a heartattack; especially when it was 5 in the morning in a dark kitchen.

Kars' head lifted, cocking an eyebrow as there suddenly came a knock at the front door; three evenly spaced thumps on the wood. The thought of another complaining neighbour was the first thing to cross his mind, making him sigh as he moved to get up from his chair.

"PIZZA'S HERE!!!"

The sounds of heavy footfalls coming at a rapid speed from down the hallway accompanying the cry stopped him in his tracks.

The plum-haired man grimaced, Wamuu glancing over his shoulder with a frown, as none-other-than Esidisi sped by; the one hand clutching the towel around his waist was the only thing keeping it from blowing away completely.

Despite only catching a glimpse of his speedy companion, Kars didn't miss the fact that the other was sopping wet and trailing water.

Esidisi had simply lept out of the shower the second he heard the knock at the door, leaving with only a towel (just barely even) and the foamy suds that were still clinging to his hair and his body.

No doubt about it, he was dripping all over the place.

And all over his clean floor too.

Kars clicked his tongue, more than tempted to sigh again.

"Really, Esidisi?" He called out to the other.

It was hard to tell whether he was more displeased with his state of soapy undress or the fact that the oldest Pillarmen had gone and ordered yet ANOTHER pizza this week with only God-knows-what on it.

Sure, he the others found themselves actually partaking in "Human food" casually these days. Wamuu even went so far as to teach himself how to cook as a hobby to fill time around the house when he wasn't going to the Gym or to work, but Esidisi had become something of a strange enthusiast on the matter.

Some people in this world got a little riled up over something as simple as Pinapple being added as a topping on a pizza but Kars had a feeling those people would have an absolute fit listening to Esidisi's phone order of a multi-fruit pizza (consisting of: oranges, apples, watermelon and strawberries) with cheese, olives and pepperoni.

He was starting to wonder if his longtime companion was simply doing it just to see how far he could push a Pizza place with his barrage of odd orders until they yelled at him or worse, barred him completely from the place.

His question was only met with laughter. "I decided to ask for Mac and Cheese and Jalapeños on it this time!" Esidisi called back, voice echoing off the walls, as he finally reached the front door.

Wamuu's nose crinkled at the very sound of that, choosing wisely to direct his attention to his cookies once more.

Kars decided to follow suit and do the same with his own work.

He supposed it wasn't really his problem, therefore; he shouldn't say anything.

☆☆☆

The advertisment had been a strange one for sure, but really, you had no choice but to at least look into it. It never hurt to try and you were already desperate enough as it was.

Apartments and open housing in the area was becoming a rarity at best these days, this busy time of year didn't help things either, and you had been scouring the internet for every opportunity or opening there was to move in with someone in this portion of the city.

Sadly, you had turned up empty handed quite a few times.

The last one you had looked into had been great; a nice building, nice seeming people, decent budget; but alas, the people who put out the advert took it down just a day later.

They had decided to give the opening to a close friend of theirs who wanted to come across the country and live with them instead.

You had been starting to consider checking the complete other side of the city and trying to squeeze yourself in somewhere there or maybe even just going with the option of moving cities completely! The hassle of finding a place was just becoming too much until... this one happened to pop up.

☆ Roomate requSWIGGITY SWOOMATE, WE NEED A ROOMATE!!11!!!1!

We are Four Men seeking out a Human roomate to live with us in our rented house.

4 bedroom, 1 bath, 1 kitchen; upstairs, downstairs and basement.

Location: Western side of the city, 929 Bizzare av.

Rent and chores are divided equally among us.

Requirements as followed:

• Must be a CLEAN Human.

• Human must not bear the surname of "Joestar" under ANY means necessary.

•Must be actively working and have claims to have the ability to hold their job.

• Must be willing to contribute to the household via chores and yard work when necessary.

• must be CUTE!!!

• Mus

•

• Must like llf6io78fjjl0

•

• Jo9sjw6jnsjej27ebeolu

• Jsjsij wkk d18kkjs lkdjsjsns52jsjjsnend2njsmdv 6272jsndbdhs2672 jd Djjsija bsij eeskdnne9s782728 jd bjejrn rnusjjsj

• the human must not be loud

• It would be most appreciated if the Human was a mannered person, who holds appreciation for similar hobbies we do. -W

•

Ask within to apply! ☆

You couldn't help but wonder if whoever had written this advert had been drunk at the time by looking at the grabbed mess that took up half the page.

Better yet, you could only hope this was a real advertisement and not some sort of stupid prank.

Either way, you were determined to find out today and claim this oppertunity before anyone else got the chance.

Glancing down at the print out you had made of the ad at the Library, you sighed as you kept going down the street. You had been walking all morning and were beginning to wish you had the foresight to pack a snack or a drink for your seemingly endless sojourn for this supposed place.

There was no picture put onto the advertisement, even a proper description of the place would've been nice, and finding a direct address wasn't exactly a piece of cake to you.

Nonetheless, you kept going. Stopping at every house you passed in hopes to spot a matching address; finding nothing but different numbers and barking dogs tethered in yards.

With every different number meeting your eyes, the possibility of this just being a fake ad just kept growing and growing in your mind.

You were even starting to consider just giving up entirely when, at last, there it was. "292" the numbers were bolted to the front porch, the 9 starting to tilt to one side.

It seemed nice enough. The lawn was well kept, the walkway however looked as if it needed to be redone. The building was a sunbleached blue, probably a nice clean periwinkle once upon a time, but now leaning a tad white and staring to flake. The place was definitely in need of a touch up.

This was the place, now if someone was Home to even just talk to you about this ad that would be great.

You gathered up the courage to leave the sidewalk and start up the overgrown walkway, the wood of the porch whined under your feet as you stepped onto it. A couple of chairs, a book carelessly left behind in one, a little cage sat all by its lonesome in the far corner, and a big unmissable stain (probably coffee) caught your eye on the wood.

The word "Pillarmen" was scrawled on the name card over the mail slot of the front door.

A strange surname, you had never heard of it before, but it must've been safe to assume that it belonged to someone here. Presumably one of the men who had made this advertisement in the first place.

With only a moments hesitation, clutching the print-out in hand, you reached out and rapped on the door hard with your knuckles, then stood back and waited.

Silence... You took the opportunity to fix your appearance slightly, suddenly becoming a little self-conscious, smoothing out your shirt before clasping your hands behind your back neatly and putting on your best smile.

First impressions were important, most especially a first impression made at the door after all.

There came the sounds of voices, too muffled for you to hear through the walls, followed closely by the unmistakable thundering of footsteps coming closer and closer from within.

Finally, the door flung open.

You felt your eyes go a little wide, the smile drained from your face as you craned your neck back slightly to meet the gaze of the very tall and very muscular dark-skinned man that now stood before you.

Belatedly, as your eyes followed the droplets of water that were dripping off him, trickling down every inch of his muscular body and pooling at his feet, you realized he was practically naked; clutching only a fluffy white towel around his waist.

The towel didn't look nearly as fluffy and white as his hair, however.

"Uh--" Your tongue swole in your mouth as you both found yourselves staring at one another, seemingly sharing a similar dumbfounded moment.

He blinked owlishly.

"You're not the Pizza delivery." He said matter-of-factly, breaking the tense silence that had fallen between the two of you.

Your head shook violently, broke from your sudden stupor, pulling out the slightly crumpled piece of paper out for him to see.

"Uh-- I--... N-No! I'm not-- I'm uh.... here ab-about the-- the roomate ad...?" You sputtered, the words felt as garbled as alphabet soup falling off your tongue, you felt a nervous sweat beading on your skin under your clothes as it hit you for a second time that wasn't wearing any. "Oh! If uh-- this is a bad time I-- I can come back later!"

His face lit up suddenly, eyes shimmering like sapphires. "Oh!" He cried. "I forgot about that!"

The massive man turned, calling back over his shoulder deeper into the apartment.

"Kars! There's a Human here, they saw our advert!"

You happened to be so gobsmacked, still reeling from the slight shock of the very first of your encounter, you hadn't even noticed he distinctly used the word "Human" there.

"What?!"

You couldn't see past the mans hulking figure but you could very well hear the scraping of a chair in the distance, followed by more thundering footsteps heading towards the door.

You blinked as yet another larger-than-life sized man made his appearance, pushing past the first with a frown. The both of them looked almost comically squashed where they stood taking up the whole doorway.

This man was just as tall and as muscular as the first. His skin was like ivory, framed by dark cloth wrapped from his neck to the top of his head with only a tuft of deep purple hair dangling precariously out over his pointed nose.

More importantly, very much unlike the first, this one was fully clothed.

Clad in a dress shirt that matched his hair, slightly unbuttoned to just give you a peak of the buldging muscles he had underneath and the sleeves rolled up to the elbow, neatly pressed black dress pants and house shoes.

Kars blinked in surprise as he caught sight of you at last, eyes scanning over you. He honestly hadn't expected someone to come to their door about the advertisement they had put out so quickly, they had only put it out less than a day ago.

If anything, by the way it had turned out, he was surprised someone responded to it at all.

"Please, come in." Kars told you, making his best attempt to save this lousy first impression.

His surprised look was short-lived, turning sharp as he directed it onto Esidisi. The other man smiled sheepishly, turning and retreat back to the bathroom to finish his shower without the pizza he had left it for...

☆☆☆

☆Previously...☆

Kars hummed, reading over the advert for a 4th time with pursed lips.

He had listed all the necessary information about them and the living situation and even put down a few requirements to set the bar for any Human who would happen to want to apply.

However, even with the ground rules set, it still just seemed a little too bare to him.

"Hmm," Kars peered over his shoulder towards the living room doorway; he swore he could hear more of the crunching of the flaming hot cheetos Esidisi was enjoying rather than the actual program he was watching. "Is there anything specific you would like to add to this before I post it?"

"Shay they mush be cute!" came the reply though a mouthful of spicy junkfood. Kars could only hope he wasn't getting crumbs all over the couch again, not to mention getting too handsy with the T.V remote eating those things...

"That isn't what qualifies as a 'requirement', Esidisi..." he sighed.

The other swallowed, now blessed with the ability to speak much clearer; the crinkling of the cheeto bag hit Kars' ears next.

"Well excuse me for having standards." He heard his oldest companion grumble, drowned out by the crunch of more food.

Wamuu's head peered out of the kitchen, the pie he was just about to place in the oven cradled in oven-mit hands. He had decided to try his hand at fudge pie this time, having mastered apple so quickly.

"It would be nice if the Human were a Warrior as well," he said, disappearing from Kars' sight again as he went back into the kitchen, carrying the pie to the awaiting oven. "Or perhaps if they were interested in going to the Gym or baking as I do..."

Kars sighed, "Wamuu, I understand you would like someone to train with but this--"

"The Human must not be loud."

The Pillarman practically jumped out of his chair, the tiniest yelp escaping his lips as he swiveled his head to find none other than Santana looming over him. The sheet lines imprinted in the others face indicated he had just arisen from a deep sleep; most likely venturing out of his cave and into the kitchen to see what Wamuu was up to.

Even after thousands of years, he still couldn't get used to the youngest Pillarman sneaking up on him.

It probably didn't even count as "sneaking" anyways as Santana was just so naturally quiet he just happened to go unnoticed until he spoke up.

Kars opened his mouth to make an attempt to speak again, only to be cut off one more time as Esidisi finally made his own appearance; leaning over the purple-haired man to see the advert in the works.

"See, this is all wrong." Esidisi told him, frowning at the screen. "This is too formal! If we're going to get someone at all, we need to grab their attention somehow. Here, I'll fix it!"

The other practically clamored over him, cheeto bag tucked under arm as he reached over to type on the computer, deleting the majority of the title Kars had written out and already replacing it with one of his own creation.

Kars belatedly realized the others' hands were still coated in hot cheeto crumbs, smudging the keys of his pristine computer with imprints of red and orange as he typed away.

"Esidisi, stop this at once!" He commanded, trying to push him at arms length, only to be met with a hand pushing back and smooshing against his face. The smell of spicy cheese flavoring hit his nostrils, only fueling his fire. "This is my work computer! I'm the one writing this advertisement!"

Santana merely stood back, watching the two elder Pillarmen fight over the computer in silence. Esidisi was pushed by Kars into the keyboard a handful of times before their focus was solely on one another and no longer the ad.

"Get your grubby hands off me!" Kars growled as the other straddled him in the chair, his face now smudged like his keyboard. They kept pushing on one another, a clumsy slap war already underway, obscenities and curses getting mangled as they argued back and forth.

"You never let me--"

"I told you that--"

"I wanna do it! Just let me--"

Santana peered down at the computer curiously, uninterested in watching the display before him any longer.

The red-head typed out his own request before picking up the device and carrying it to the kitchen for Wamuu to see and whatever he wished; Santana ignored the sound of two bodies toppeling out of the chair and hitting the floor as he left.

Kars didn't even get to see the ad (or rather; the remainder of what qualified as an advert) before it was posted online by Santana.

#funnybunny #pillarmen #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #my writing #pillarroomies

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starlightrows · 3 years

Text

The Perfect Day

Pairing: Paz Viszla x reader

Word Count: 2k

Tags: Dangerously high levels of fluff!

Summary: Paz goes out of the way to make your birthday special!

AN: Second time posting this, the original got deleted by mistake! This was created to celebrate my birthday! Loosely inspired by @maybege soulmate!paz!

Your nose twitches at the sweet smell of cocoa and coffee as you begin the pull towards wakefulness. The heavy blankets and duvet that keep you warm is being pulled back, and you can feel gentle breath being puffed onto your cheeks. He places gentle pressure on your forehead, again on your temple trailing down to the apple of your cheek to the tip of your nose. By the time he reaches your lips you can’t contain your sleepy smile. His laugh is deep and hearty between gentle kisses, coaxing you into opening your eyes.

“Good morning birthday girl,” he smiles. You squeeze your eyes shut and push your face up to his to nuzzle your nose against his, feeling extra cuddly from his wake up kisses.

“Good morning,” you reply

“Made you breakfast,” he says, you open your eyes and sit up with him.

“Oh! Thank you honey,” He brings a bread tray forward, loaded with a massive plate of what you correctly assume to be savory waffles, a bowl of fruit, and two cups of coffee. He sits on the bed cross legged in front of you, placing the tray between you.

You excitedly dig, enjoying the crispy exterior of the waffles and rich chocolate laced into the coffee. He sits back enjoying his coffee, and the fruits of his labor.

“Paz, there is so much of this. How early did you get up to pull all this off?” You ask, because even with both of you eating there is a lot of food.

“Not as early as you think, this is turning out to be more of a birthday brunch than a breakfast” he smiles sheepishly. You glance at the clock on his dresser. He’s right, it’s a quarter past 11. He let you sleep in well past your normal lazy day wake up time.

“I figured if I was going to make your favorite breakfast anyway, I might as well make a lot so we can save some for the next few days,” he explains

You can’t help but smile, it was a thoughtful gesture, but if he didn’t put them away soon you’d sit there and eat the whole platter full!

When the bunch was finished, you helped him take the dishes downstairs, despite his protests.

“It’s your day love, is there anything you’d like to do?” He asks while washing the utensils you’d used to eat.

“Well with all the fresh snow on the ground, I was thinking we could pull out the snow shoes and do a hike. We could try the lookout loop again,” you reply, peeking out the massive front window at the snowy driveway and dense forest just outside the cabin. While the ground may be covered in a thick blanket of snow, the sky is free of heavy cloud cover “it’s pretty clear out today, hopefully we’ll be able to see the valley this time,”

“Yeah, sounds great. I can pack the hiking bag if you want to go pull the snow shoes out from the equipment closet,” he tosses a tea towel over his shoulder. You nod and slammer off to find the snow shoes.

Half an hour later, you and Paz are sitting on the bench under the covered back porch wearing snow pants, lightweight thermal jackets, beanies and gloves; strapping the snowshoe attachments to your heavy snow boots. Paz carries the big hiking bag that houses your emergency supplies and water for the wintertime hike, while you carry the smaller bag that has snacks and a blanket for the look out point.

He gives you a hand up, and lets you lead the way to start out the hike. You’d done this hike together many times before, once you started moving you almost didn’t need to think about it. He fell in step just behind you and the two of you shared easy, fun conversation as you hiked the familiar path up the mountain. Air was still and cold, but you felt amazing, kept warm by your insulating layers and the movement of your body. This hike was beautiful as it is in the summer months, but winter was its own kind of beauty.

The last mile or so to reach the lookout point was the hardest part, Paz’s long strides made it somewhat easier for him and you laughed as he passed you on the uphill climb. Just like he always did. He welcomed you at the top with a gentle hand, leading you to the lookout point. This place was special to the two of you. You’d come up here dozens of times together, he’d proposed to you on this spot, and a year later you’d gotten married at the top of this mountain.

“You were right,” he said, directing your attention out over the valley. It was pristine and perfect. The valley was like a bowl, fully surrounded on all sides by steep snow capped mountains. The lake in the center was a deep dark inky black, without so much as a ripple on the water. The lack of breeze in the chilled air made everything still. It was absolutely gorgeous and exactly what you had been hoping for.

Paz helped ease the pack off your back, and fished the blanket out from the bottom. He did his best to dust off one of the massive boulders you often sat on when coming up here, and spread the blanket out over it.

You sat together on the blanket enjoying crisp apples, sour gummy worms, salty jerky and of course passing a thermos full of cocoa back and forth. The only acceptable lunch for a day hike you claimed.

Before long you and Paz packed up your blanket and small amount of trash back into the bag, and triple checked to make sure everything was just the way you had found it. Together you set off back down the mountain, leading for home.

As the two of you neared the edge of the forest, Paz reached out and snagged your arm.

“Shhh, look!” He whispered pointing through the trees towards the cabin. You followed his gaze and the direction of his finger. Your eyes went wide, and your jaw slacked in elated shock.

Through the trees you could see it, a massive bull moose, leisurely strolling through your backyard about 30 yards away from where you and Paz stood. You had to cover your mouth to suppress your giddiness. Moose are your favorite animal, and one of the more rare animals to see on this side of the mountain. This was the biggest one you’d ever seen, and certainly the closest you’d ever been to one.

Of course you were well aware of how dangerous they are, so being protected from its view by the trees at this comfortable distance was the best and safest scenario for you. But this was also the coolest, most exciting thing that had ever happened to you! Eventually the Moose trotted along and disappeared into the trees on the opposite side of the property. You shared a look with Paz.

“Oh my god! That was a little intense,” you said following him towards the house

“I know. I’ve never seen one that close in my life. I almost wish we’d had a camera,” he replied.

You sat together on the back porch once more, removing your snowshoes, and kicking the remaining snow off the bottom of your boots. Once inside both of you stripped out of your snow pants and coats, leaving you in base layers and socks. You hung up the heavy gear in the entryway closet, and collected the extra bits that could go in the wash like socks.

Paz approaches you leaned down a bit and kissed the top of your head.

“If you let me rinse off real quick, you can take a bath while I work on dinner,” he offers

You hum at the attention of his kisses, “How can I say no to that. Its a deal babe,”

True to his word, Paz jumps in for a very quick shower just to get the sweat off of his body. He emerges from the bathroom with wet hair and warm skin. He gives you one more lingering kiss before letting you run off to draw a fancy bath for yourself.

Meanwhile he busies himself in the kitchen to make sure he’s got enough time to finish dinner, that he had secretly already started that morning, as well as the dessert he had planned.

By the time you’re coming back downstairs looking very cozy in an oversized knit sweater and leggings, dinner is on the table and dessert is just going into the oven. The table is set for the two of you with your favorite meal, and a nice candle in the middle. You sidle up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“This is so romantic, you did all this for me?” You gaze lovingly at the beautiful dinner awaiting you.

“Of course,” he wraps his arms around you too, giving you a loving squeeze. He pulls away, and invites you to sit. The food is delicious, perfectly cooked just the way you like it. As you finish a timer goes off back in the kitchen.

You look past him into the kitchen, then turn your eyes back to him. “Paz?”

He grins mischievously, and gets up to pull dessert from the oven. It’s a small chocolate cake, and from the looks of it he’s attempted to make a lava cake with a gooey fudgy center. He turns it out onto a dish, and pulls the mold up and off it. He looks rather proud of himself. He sticks a single delicate white candle in the middle and deftly lights it. He sits it down in front of you with the warmest most genuine smile.

“Happy birthday baby,” he says “Don’t forget to make a wish,”

You giggle and give him a gentle smile, “I don’t know what more I could possibly wish for,” He grins at you. You do know what to wish for. You wish to be this happy every day. To feel this loved and cherished every moment for the rest of your days. You wish he would feel the same love and devotion coming from you. And you blow out the candle.

He produces two spoons and you share the dessert, finding its rich spongey cake to be without a shadow of a doubt the best dessert you’ve ever had. And you make sure to tell him that.

“I must be the most spoiled woman in the world. Breakfast, dinner and dessert! Will you at least let me help you do the dishes?” You ask when the plate has been all but licked clean of his chocolatey confection.

“Not a chance. You’re gonna go pick a movie,” he tells you, taking the plates into the kitchen to be washed. You laugh and shake your head, but acquiesce.

He joins you in the living room, and tumbles onto the couch pulling you on top of him to snuggle. In the end you choose an old favorite movie of yours, one that still makes you laugh despite the obviously terrible jokes. You’re half heartedly paying attention, more just basking in the warmth of Paz’s chest and the nostalgia of the film. Paz is not paying attention to the movie at all. He’s stroking your hair, and memorizing every detail of your face looking so blissful and content. Despite having been married for two years now, and together for two more, he could still spend an eternity studying your face and find something new or cute or amusing.

Your gaze drifted up to meet Paz, and your smile seemed to melt into a wider sleepier smile as you exhaled deeply.

“Good birthday?” He asks

“Mhm...” you nod “Perfect,”

#star wars #the mandalorian #paz viszla #paz viszla x reader #Paz vizsla #paz vizsla x reader #I don’t know how you’re supposed to spell Vizsla

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orangerosebush · 3 years

Text

Sitting on the branches of my family tree

[ao3 link]

Artemis was currently sitting alone in the kitchen at three in the morning. He didn’t quite know when he’d officially decided he wasn’t going up to bed, but one way or another he had found himself sitting in the gloom of the downstairs.

The room was dim, as Butler had turned off the hall lights before he’d retired for the evening sometime late the previous night. The only thing illuminating the kitchen was the faint, warm glow of the metal hot plate that was keeping the water in the kettle at a low boil.

Artemis frowned. He looked down at the cup of earl grey he’d been nursing for the past half hour. Probably too cold to enjoy properly at this point, he sighed.

Faint ripples formed in what tea remained at the bottom of the mug, and he furrowed his brow. That was odd. Straining his ears, he glanced at the entrance to the kitchen apprehensively.

Sure enough, coming slowly down the grand staircase was Juliet. Artemis blinked, eyes flickering back to the old clock on the wall.

Interesting.

“Either you’re up extraordinarily early,” he remarked as she tried to slink into the kitchen as quietly as she could. “Or you’ve stayed up rather late.”

Anyone else would’ve jumped at such a surprise, but Juliet merely tensed. Years of the Blue Diamond training program had left her with nerves of steel.

Turning to face him slowly, she gave him an appraising look.

“Hey,” she said carefully.

“Hello,” he responded, amused.

Silence settled over the room.

“I always suspected that you stalked around the house at night, Artemis,” she snorted after a moment. “Relaxing too much a waste of your time?”

“You make me out to be almost sinister, Juliet. I’m afraid this is just a rather mundane example of my insomnia flaring up,” he waved her off, getting up to move to the stove top. “Do you want any of the tea I was making?”

She took a seat on one of the barstools by the main table. “Tea? If you’re either constantly on a caffeine drip or are staring at a screen all the time, then I don’t think you have insomnia. You’re just a workaholic.”

“Clinically so,” Artemis murmured, flicking off the burner. “I take it you don’t want any, then?” he called out over his shoulder.

“Nah, I want some — I’ll take whatever you have that’s decaf and fruity,” she crossed her arms on the counter and rested her chin on them.

He wrinkled his nose, taking the kettle off the burner to pour the steaming water into his cup. Opening the cabinet above the stove, he reached for another cup, the cool china of the mug soothing against his skin. He placed a tea bag at the bottom of the new cup, watching a vibrant ruby diffuse through the water as the tea steeped. In contrast, his earl grey was a richer color, almost caramel.

Fingers curling around the warmth of the cups, he brought the two mugs over to the table. Juliet perked up, reaching for her cup. She let the steam waft up, coiling around her face, and she smiled warmly, closing her eyes.

“It smells like strawberries.”

Artemis took a sip of his earl grey. “It most likely has some strawberry in it. It’s the berry mix that Barry’s carries. The box is described as a refreshing blend of ‘red’ berries,” he made air-quotes.

“I can certainly taste the red, so I’d give it full marks,” she held it up approvingly, putting on what Artemis assumed was meant to be a parody of his affectation.

“On your way to being a tea sommelier, I see.”

“Mayhaps . Also, yours better be decaf,” she shot a pointed look at his cup.

“You’re hardly in the position to speak about maintaining good sleep habits — you were wandering about the halls as well,” he reminded her, deliberately taking another sip of his tea.

She flushed. “I was asleep. It’s not my fault I woke up and wanted to stretch my legs. Also, you’re not wandering if you’re walking about with purpose.”

“Did Ko tell you that?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Nope. I heard it from some pageant mum during the tryouts for the Miss Sugar Beet Fair.”

“In what context?”

“I caught her nicking stuff from the other ladies’ purses in the cubby area,” she remarked airily.

Surprised, he laughed. “I admire her panache. Very Fowl-esque of her.”

“You can’t trademark being a conman that puts on airs, Artemis,” she rolled her eyes. “Mulch does the same shit, and I’m pretty sure he’s been around for at least three generations of Fowls.”

“I would disagree,” he stirred his tea. “At the risk of sounding egotistical, Diggums falls more into the category of being a petty crook than he does into the category of being a criminal mastermind.”

“Oh, really? We can ask him which one of us he agrees with if you want, Artemis,” she leaned forward, smug. “He’s been squatting in the cellar for about a month now.”

Artemis sighed. “I’ve been trying to actually catch a glimpse of him down there so that I can tell him to leave,” he said glumly. “I know he’s down there siphoning wine out of the casks, but he’ll surely argue that I’m just going mad if I attempt to kick him out over a phone call.”

“I thought you said he was just a petty crook,” she widened her eyes. “Shouldn’t a ‘criminal mastermind’ be able to handle evicting some random—“

“You’ve made your point,” he huffed.

“Gotcha!” she grinned.

“Congratulations, Juliet, on successfully defending Mulch’s no doubt fragile self-esteem. I have no idea how he would manage to enjoy our vintages were he to know I referred to his escapades as ‘petty’.”

Juliet shrugged. “Eh, wine is wine at the end of the day. You don’t even drink , Artemis.”

“Not all wine is created equal,” he argued, steepling his fingers. Sensing he was gearing up to give a spiel, Juliet huffed.

“Take for example the ‘87 Merlot — a wine which I suspect he has already sampled in excess,” Artemis began. “To call it a work of art would be to sell it short. Mulch is free to skim off the top of some of the lesser vintages, but I would appreciate if he would stay away from the quality wines that make up our rather expensive collection in the cellar.” Artemis sniffed, lazily swirling the remains of his tea.

Juliet snorted, resting her chin on her palm. “Nice speech. I was very moved by the ‘work of art’ bit.”

At this, the sides of Artemis’ mouth quirked upwards. “I have to defend it on principle. It was produced in an odd year, after all. Those always produce the best grapes.”

The young Butler rolled her shoulders a bit, her weight shifting in the chair as she stretched. Reaching up, her right hand tucked back a loose strand of hair that had fallen out of the messy bun she’d put her hair up in before bed. “That sounds like rich bullshit. No way.”

Artemis snickered, bowing his head in concession. “You’re right. It is.”

Juliet grinned. “Knew it. Where’d you hear that bit about the odd versus even years?”

He leaned back in his chair, his grip tight on the fading warmth of his cup. “Oh, it would’ve been a while ago. I thought it was so funny when I first heard about that rule,” he smiled fondly. “The Abbey Theatre was running Six Degrees of Separation. I remember pleading with mother to take me to see one of the performances — the press had just run a piece calling it obscene — and eventually, she relented. I was probably the youngest person in the theatre that night,” he chuckled.

As if lost in the memory, Artemis closed his eyes, his expression pensive. “There was one scene where the character Paul, a conman, was leading a young man around New York City. They went to the Rainbow Room to dine, and Paul told his companion that there was a secret trick rich people use when ordering wine: universally, the wines produced in the odd years are considered to be better. I remember there were titters in the audience —wine tasting is often based more on evaluating a bottle through a formula of factors than it is about the taste, and even the couples with cellars filled with vintages worth thousands of euros could have a bit of a laugh at that.”

Artemis opened his eyes, the whites flashing in the dim light. “But you see, it’s not a commonly held belief that odd year vintages taste better than even years. He’d made the rule up.”

Juliet blinked. “So?” she furrowed her brow. “It sounds close enough to some of the stuff I’ve heard people say about wine at the parties your mum throws.”

“True, but it wasn’t even one of the myths about wine!” Artemis leaned forward earnestly. “That night, the actor playing Paul said this particular line so assuredly that you believed he’d heard this straight from the mouth of an old money wine aficionado — at that moment, his compatriot melted away, and we replaced him. Paul had turned his charm on the audience, stringing us all along,” his voice became quiet.

Tilting his head so that he was gazing at Juliet directly, Artemis opened his mouth as if to say something before he closed it, frowning slightly. Worrying the inside of his cheek, he tried to formulate his next sentence. He almost chuckled at that. It wasn’t often that he was at a loss for words.

“Sometimes… sometimes I hear someone at a restaurant jump a little too quickly to choose the odd-year wine,” he said finally. “Sometimes, I hear what sounds like a touch of smugness in a couple’s tone when they turn down an even-year vintage. It’s possible I’m imagining it, but I do wonder. I wonder now and then if they saw that play — maybe not on that night, maybe not in that theatre — and believed. ”

With that, Artemis sighed, finally placing his teacup gently on the table. By now, the smooth surface of the china was cool to the touch.

Juliet let one of her hands fall from her chin to the table, flexing her fingers in thought. “You know,” she began slowly. “I think I’ve seen a bit of Six Degrees.”

Artemis started, shoulders rising. “Oh?”

She nodded. “I’m pretty sure. I think they made it into a movie a while back. Will Smith was in it.”

Artemis stared at Juliet in silence, blinking owlishly. “Did… did you like it?”

Juliet puffed out her cheeks as she exhaled, thinking for a moment. “Actually,” she began after a moment, locking eyes with Artemis. “I can’t remember.”

That was all it took.

The floodgates were released, and the pair was wracked with laughter.

Artemis couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard that tears had welled in his eyes. He snorted, wiping the wetness on his cheeks away with the palm of his hand.

“You should really be getting to bed,” he said after they’d sobered, crossing his arms on top of the table. Juliet scrunched her face up, stretching in her seat.

“I’m not tired,” she protested.

Artemis cocked his head curiously. “We’ve both been up since sunrise yesterday,” he pointed out. “The skyline is already starting to light up along the water by the cliffs. I know Madame Ko trained you to work during the most extenuating of circumstances, but surely you do need to sleep every now and again.”

“God —you’re such a hypocrite sometimes, you know that?” she prodded his arm with a finger, and he almost winced. “And I wasn’t up since yesterday, okay?” she added, almost as an afterthought.

He rubbed his shoulder. “Apologies.”

“I wasn’t!”

“Of course. Surely you weren’t on the phone with your girlfriend from your old wrestling troupe who is around, oh, six hours or so behind our time zone.”

Juliet’s cheeks turned scarlet. “Shut up, Artemis,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment. “Who even told you about her? Was it Dom?”

Artemis shrugged good-naturedly, refusing to comment. She shot him a withering look, finally dragging her hands away from her face.

“… Practice got out late. Sam forgot that a late practice over there is… early over here.”

“And you picked up the phone when she called anyway? So romantic. What a prophetic name you have, Juliet,” he grinned, and she flushed deeper.

“I’m not letting someone who skulks around in the dark snark about my long-distance relationship,” Juliet crossed her arms, and it was Artemis’ turn to be defensive.

“I’ve explicitly told you already that I was not ‘skulking’.”

She laughed at that, and the light of the nascent sunrise made it seem as though parts of her blond hair were lit up by a fiery reddish-gold, Artemis thought. Some people were meant to be seen in sunlight, others in the moonlight — Juliet was well suited to the warm light of dawn, a light still full of reds, pinks, and oranges.

Juliet must have noticed he’d been staring, as she softened.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself if you’re always thinking so hard,” she said offhandedly. Artemis ignored the lump forming in his throat.

“I’m afraid ‘thinking hard’, as you put it, is what I’m built to do.”

She locked her gaze on him, frowning.

“You can think as much as you want during the day, Artemis,” she reminded him lightly, finally leaning back. “Holing yourself up until you finally have some big breakthrough can very easily turn into pushing people away, and you know it.”

“Ah,” he winced. “I assume that was a thinly-veiled reference to my sending your brother away to Cancún?”

Whether tired or just exasperated, Juliet ran a hand through her hair. “Yeah, genius. Sometimes you’ve gotta slow down a bit so that we can all catch up with you. Especially Dom. The Cancún stuff nearly killed him, you know?”

He winced. “I know. I shouldn’t have used you as a way to manipulate — I shouldn’t have resorted to manipulating your brother at all,” he amended. “I let my paranoid mind get the better of me, as you said.”

“It doesn’t make it okay, but it wasn’t totally your fault,” she shook her head. “That’s what made it hurt more for him, in the end. He left to go to me in Cancún even though he knew something was… off with you because he thought I was in danger. Domovoi came after me because he thought his baby sister was in trouble,” she snorted at that. “But it still took the ‘worst case scenario’ to get him to leave you in the first place.”

She fixed him in her gaze. “Even at your lowest point, you knew on some level that it would take an emergency to get him to abandon you when you were hurt, Artemis. Lurking around the house at night so that you can drive yourself up the wall without anyone telling you to knock it off won’t change that. It’ll just make you feel like shit.”

They sat there in silence.

Artemis looked back at her, properly trying to make eye contact this time. “I am trying to get better, you know,” he said after a moment, almost grimacing when he realized how snarky that sounded. Thankfully, Juliet took it in stride.

“I know.”

He looked away, reaching for his forgotten cup of tea. The china was cool again, he found, turning it around between his hands.

“I’ll… try not to lurk around the house, as you put it so bluntly,” he said, only a tad begrudgingly.

She raised an eyebrow. “You won’t do it again, or you won’t get caught again?”

Artemis paused. “I’ll try not to do it again,” he decided after a moment, surprised to find he was being completely honest. Juliet seemed satisfied at that.

“Cool,” she grinned, beginning to relax once more into her usual easy-going manner.

“I appreciate you talking to me,” he added, tightening his grip on his cup. “You’ve given me much to think about. In a good way,” he smiled.

She beamed at that. Reaching to undo her bun, Juliet shook her head as though she were shaking off rain after coming inside. She must’ve showered before putting it up, as her hair seemed wavier than it usually was, he noted.

“Thanky."

“I suppose I ought to thank Sam for forgetting the extent to which Ireland is ahead of Mexico,” he mused, and Juliet seemed to be lost in thought for a moment.

“Yeah, you should — I stole a lot of what she’s had to say when I was making my point about isolating yourself and stuff,” she explained slowly.

“Oh?” he furrowed his brow. She waited a moment, seemingly debating how she was going to continue.

“Please. We grew up in the same house, Artemis. I’ve got pretty similar childhood baggage to what you’re probably leafing through. Parent stuff, growing up too soon stuff, normal 20-something stuff, weird 20-something stuff,” she shrugged. “She doesn’t let me mope, but she also like, sees me, you know?”

He regarded her for a moment, considering what she’d said. “You deserve someone like her,” he remarked. She shook her head.

“Not to drop my slightly- older-adult ‘adult wisdom’ on you,” she leaned forward. “But you’re not with someone because you deserve them or because they deserve you. She makes me laugh, she listens…” she trailed off.

“And so you pick up the phone each time,” he finished, and she grinned, tapping her nose.

“You’re starting to get it. It’s both the connection and commitment. We meet each other where we are, and then we move forward together.”

“Connection and commitment,” he echoed her.

“Connection and commitment and a whole bunch of therapy,” Juliet ticked off a finger for each one. He nodded, resting his chin on his hand.

“And ,” she added, shooting him a look. “Getting to bed at a consistent time.”

He made a face. “Does recovery necessitate giving up all the things that make life worthwhile?”

“My brother has a bunch of WebMD mental health articles printed out all over his room,” she poked him. “And the bits about developing good sleeping habits are all over the pages on the standard treatment for mood disorders. You probably have read the sources the articles cite, though — you don’t get a pass to run yourself into the ground just because you’re smart enough to give a lecture on psychology. Go to bed. The world will still be here when you wake up.”

He was going to say something snide about how he didn’t actually have the luxury of assuming the world would still be there, but he stopped himself. It was too early in the morning to bring up the specters that loomed prominently in his thoughts. Chasing those fears was what had started his spiral in the end, after all.

“Very well. I’d wish you goodnight, but it’s more apt to say good morning at this point,” he ventured, standing up from his seat.

Juliet rose as well, following in suit.

“Thank god ,” she muttered. “Not that talking through feelings isn’t fantastic, but I was just about ready to toss you over my shoulder and haul you upstairs. I’m exhausted .”

Artemis tried not to look too stricken. He has no doubt she was completely serious.

“On a final note,” she sighed, patting down the wrinkles in her nightshirt. “I miss being lovingly suplexed by my wrestler girlfriend,” she complained.

He made a face.

“Come off it — I’m allowed to brag about my jock-centric relationship.”

He grimaced. “You’re a match made in heaven.”

She stuck her tongue out, and he rolled his eyes before starting to make his way over to the stairs. Artemis lingered in the doorway, resting his hand against the smooth frame. “Goodnight, Juliet.”

“Goodnight, Artemis.”

#artemis fowl #my writing #yes im crossposting what of itttt #(also yes the title is inspired by that Sparks song 'my family' or w/e)

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blankdblank · 3 years

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Brother Dearest Pt 61

“What the hell happened to him? He been faking that damn limp this whole time?” One of the Agents at SSR muttered to Chief Thompson who had just come from the lab Sousa’s team had shoved the irritated returned Chief from the shared lab between their floors. Already his own team was off sleuthing in Harlem for backup on the tip that Venom and Eddie had given them. With a huff through the passing group of Agents Sousa moved towards the elevator doors. And didn’t even make it halfway before Thompson stated with a smirk, “Few days near your sweetheart and you’re all upright, perfect example of bed rest to make a man out of a cripple again.”

Sousa simply pressed the button to call the elevator and tapped his cane against his fake shin that gave off an eye dropping metallic echo the men around him looked to. “New leg. Said in some time might be able to run on it. Just breaking it in.” The doors opened and before he could lower the cane the men watched with mouths opening to his unassisted step inside the lit up room. And when he turned he said, “Need it too, back up lab since you’ve been hogging ours has stairs.”

One of the guys asked, “Where the hell did you get a metal leg?”

While another asked, “How could you afford it?” As two more wondered on where the back up lab was that he’d never heard of before.

Sousa replied, “It was a gift.”

Thompson asked, “Let me guess, Peggy’s crime buddy ex squeeze Stark?”

“Baroness Bunny Pear Howlett.”

Thompson asked to their open mouthed stare, “Guess she’s trying to buy her way to the pearly gates before she kicks it. How’d you meet her?”

“I have a drive to get to the lab or I’d stick around chasing fiction and sit on my hands with you and your team.” He pressed the button and the doors closed cutting off the scoffs from the men who circled to talk more about the source of the new leg.

“Still say it’s a plot for points towards heaven. Heard she gained another ten pounds last week.”

Smirks spread and another in the group said to the stunned stare of one of the women on the floor passing notes to one of the Agent that came from another in a different department and floor. “I was her husband I’d have dumped her somewhere out of sight and mind instead of parading a whale around for clout in the papers.”

Down in the lobby Sousa strolled along all the way out to the lot where he climbed into his car and muttered, “Alright, let’s go follow a lead from an alien and his pregnant sister.” He shifted gears to the hum of the engine and pulled out of the lot to start the drive to the Hamptons where Stark’s mansion was located. Stretches of city were swapped for long patches of green with sprawling mansions that he sighed wondering how many years it would take him to save to afford one of these houses if he cared. And how many of these people actually owned these houses outright or had unimaginable mortgages on these marble accented wonders.

He couldn’t imagine a life in the city after his having grown up in a small town, but his sister did need him around. Sure it was just for weekly check ins and a monthly babysitting stop to let her and her husband have the night off. Always where he would be asked about his own future upon their return, now more than ever that his engagement had ended and he was back in town where he was just a floor away from the woman he hadn’t named to his sister that had caught on to his helpless pining. He had missed his sister and now that he had come back the townhouse he had been renting from his friend who had with the first offer stated one day he would be up to selling the place if he had gotten attached. It wasn’t much compared to the farmhouse he had grown up in but by chance if he could build up the nerve to take his chance and ask Peggy out just maybe she might like it for a family home of their own.

Stark’s drive however came into view and he sighed taking the turn and muttered, “Fingers crossed he’s in a helpful mood today.”

Off to the side of the front door he parked and spotted a curtain from above shift in notice of the company and out he climbed to make the walk to the door where he paused to fidget his hand on his cane before giving the front door a knock. Not two minutes later Jarvis was at the door that opened between them with a flinch of a smile, “Chief Sousa, how might I help you?”

“Mr Jarvis, I was wondering if I could talk to Howard actually.”

“Um,” he said to the faint sound of a one sided argument from a female and things being thrown and he stated, “Mr Stark is currently entertaining, however you are welcome to wait in the parlor.” Sousa nodded and stepped through the door that was shut behind them for the stroll through the echo filled mansion to the lushly decorated parlor where Jarvis asked, “Tea?”

“Sure,” Sousa answered and took a seat on the small couch closest to him.

For a few minutes he shook his head and bit back his ache to laugh at the insults fired at Stark until the faint sound of the kettle brought Jarvis back with a tea cart. Upon it with skillful ease he brought together a trio of cups while the tea steeped and asked, “If I may, are you here on official business, Chief Sousa?”

“Unofficially, yes,” that had Jarvis glance up at him, “Guys downstairs are hogging the lab and I was wondering if Stark might loan me use of his.”

That had Jarvis grin, “Oh, how exciting, new gadget?” A door slammed and he set down the napkin in his hand with a grin at him and said, “Pardon me a moment.”

Sousa nodded and watched him stroll out of the room adjusting his vest and tie to gather the belongings left by the door where around the still shouting woman he grinned in draping her wrap around her shoulders and offered her the handbag that had been left with it and stated, “Have a lovely day, Miss DeCoco.” Her thanks was soon followed by another shout to Stark who was now at the base of the stairs to watch her storm to the sports car she sped off in. Once the door was shut again Jarvis was heard to state, “Mr Stark,”

“Ya, I know, I’ll never learn my lesson. Time to go punish myself with a bubble bath.”

“Mr Stark,” Stark turned his head with brows raised and Jarvis continued, “Chief Sousa is here.”

“Oh, perhaps I should get dressed if I’m going to be arrested.”

“He stated he is here to borrow your lab actually.”

“Oh,” he said in a stunned tone and down the steps trotted in his untucked shirt and badly wrinkled pajama pants that lay over the top of his slippers. “Interesting.” To the door he went and strolled in with a grin and said, “Don’t get up, Daniel, how are you?” offering his hand to the man he approached who’d paused in his reach for his cane and shook the hand offered to him.

“Better than you it sounds like. Lovers quarrel?”

Stark shook his head with a grin at the release of hands stating, “Difference of opinions. I’ll send some scarves and a new purse and she’ll be more than happy to apologize.”

Sousa smirked, “So that’s what that was, denial, a lot quieter in my house growing up.”

Stark asked, “So what goodies did you bring to my doorstep? Jarvis says you asked to borrow my lab.”

After a reach into his jacket inner pocket he unfolded the sheet kept there while Jarvis poured the tea, “Part of my case I came back from LA to follow has some vanishing tech from a guy that came from Barbados. Well, I got a tip where to find him and the invisible ship he’s apparently been using to get around.”

“Vanishing tech, lot of people would love to get their hands on that.”

Sousa nodded, “Especially why we have to take him in and find out who else knows how to make it. However I got a tip on a compound to use to interfere with the tech. Pretty common ingredients, just couldn’t get it from her since she’s pregnant and all. Unsafe for the baby.”

Stark’s eyes flinched wider a moment and swept over the Chief asking, “Pregnant? Who gave you the compound?”

Sousa, “Oh, right, forgot to mention, Baroness Bunny Howlett.”

Stark’s face split into an amused grin, “How’d you get her roped into this case of yours?”

“Oh, her brother’s investigation mixed with mine and he caught some tips for me. Peggy knows them fairly well apparently, said they can be trusted and I mean it can’t hurt to try with what I’m up against.”

Stark accepted the sheet and chuckled saying, “Oh I gotta read this. Knew she was holding back on me.”

“Peggy?” Sousa asked accepting his cup of tea.

Stark nodded in response to his and replied, “Bunny. Babies, by the way.”

Sousa, “Must be twins by the size, no offense to her, and they all keep saying girls, as if they know for certain.”

Stark chuckled stating, “Triplets, actually,” parting the Chief’s lips. “She’s got a pretty good instinct on that from what I heard from the Brocks, can always tell a pregnancy before a blood test can by what they say.” Over the page his eyes shifted to the complex equations and diagrams of chemicals needed and reactions followed by one on how to fold the mixture into balloons. “This is way more complex than I would guess a second year student capable. Seems she’s been studying up on her own time. You must have shared a great deal on the tech with her for her to think up a way to counter it.”

“Venom did, apparently.”

Stark chuckled, “Come on Daniel, his name is Eddie. You can’t tell me you think Venom is real, some human eating monster brought on by a bite from a radioactive lizard. Bet it’d be amusing for them to hear you call him that.”

Sousa forced out a chuckle in curiosity if Stark had been let in on the secret, as obviously Peggy knew and only made him wonder why she hadn’t let him in on the fact that those comics were based on more fact than fiction. “Well apparently she’s been helping him to find a way to counter the tech from some diagrams in his own case which could be pretty deadly if they actually make it.” He took a sip and watched Stark read it again.

Jarvis asked after his own sip when he’d sat down, “How is she faring, Mrs Bunny? The papers, have not been particularly kind.”

Sousa caught his gaze answering, “She mentioned she was tired, she’s acting as Judge for some mock trials in school. Seemed to be a bit amused by some of the stories. Said they have a story planned when winter ends and she can’t hide the belly anymore.”

Jarvis said, “Perhaps we might drop in to make certain she is faring well.”

Stark said in a look up from the pages to say, “I’ve tried talking to the Times. Even been trying to stir up some bigger stories, but they are bent on chronicling Bunny’s health with every trash tip they claim to get. Today’s paper has a whole rehash of that frog dissection report and how that would equal a human’s autopsy if they had those results. Just trash, if anything that amount of metal in the body would leech moisture not allow a person to grow twice their usual size.” He lifted his cup and said to Jarvis’ glance his way, “She’s adorable pregnant, you know what I meant, she had to be what, 80 pounds wet, bound to be a reckoning when she puts that story out.”

A few sips later to the share of more plans Stark paused mid sentence at notice of the dark metal limb opposite the socked leg in view and said, “You um, that’s a new leg isn’t it?”

Sousa looked at him and said, “Oh, yes, the Baroness made it for me.”

Jarvis, “It was my impression she preferred not to be named by that title by friends.”

Stark, “She made you a leg? Out of what?”

“Metal, don’t know why gave it to me the second time I’d seen her. Fits shockingly comfortable. Said my old leg had lead in the securing brace that was leeching into my body and this one would be safer for me and help me to run again eventually when I’m used to it.”

Stark asked in a stunned tone, “Really?” Then glanced at his leg again and said, “Well, if you don’t mind I can watch you strut your stuff on the new leg down to our lab.”

“Nowhere near to strutting yet.” He said then joined the others on their feet to make the walk to the lab which gave Stark plenty of chance to steal glances at his eased stride after such little time with it. “So you have everything on the list, right?” His eyes having shifted away from Jarvis in his entrance of the code needed to unlock the lab.

Stark said, “Oh yes,” following Jarvis inside the room that lit up to the flick of a few switches that Sousa looked around while Stark gathered up a few things along the way to a bare station. Including a small device used to test metal contents, “fairly common ingredients by the look of it. Wouldn’t imagine they could do much of anything, but if Bunny says it should work then best to give it a try. No telling what she can pull out of her bag of tricks.”

He settled that helping of ingredients down Jarvis once he’d removed his jacket and folded up his sleeves got to arranging and finding the proper containers listed in your notes to prep and mix all of it in. Then paused at the final note, “Balloons?”

Sousa said, “She said that you have to keep it in latex, anything else it would eat through.”

Stark muttered to himself, “None of these are corrosive when mixed…” then looped around with more ingredients while Jarvis turned in a puzzled circle.

Jarvis, “We have latex gloves, no balloons.”

Stark said, “We have balloons,” pulling a package of grey balloons from a drawer in a desk along the way he added to the spread across the station and made a loop around Sousa to use the metal contents device on his leg. A single sweep of it and his confusion grew to the puzzling readings that there were no known metals in the known universe in it. “What metal did Bunny say she used?”

Sousa turned to see the device in his hand and answered, “She didn’t.”

Stark showed him the device, “Must have made a new one then, because this says there aren’t any metals in it.” After a pause they turned back to the task at hand and the Chief watched the duo work through the intricate directions that seemed to alter the known reactions of the ingredients. All entirely to puzzle the pair all the more on how you of all people had found them out and how this could react to the tech the Chief was up against.

Partway through the lift of a heated beaker underneath the fume hood as per instructions to be mixed into a cooled mixture in a silver bowl Sousa said, “I know you’re dying to ask more about the leg. Go on.”

Stark asked, “She just gave you a leg?”

Sousa said, “Said it’d help me keep up with Peggy. Seems like she just wants to help. Mentioned her relatives escaped a death camp,” that had Jarvis’ eyes on him, “And they’d seen a couple they were ordered to clear I guess and she was a Medic.” Jarvis looked away, “I mean she’s got that Medic rank maybe she wants to be a Doctor or work with the wounded.”

Jarvis asked, “You said Death Camps, her relatives escaped one?”

“Ya, Auschwitz, her aunt and cousin. Met them in France after they stormed Normandy Beach on D-Day. Haven’t met them yet, but if they’re anything like her and her brother should be a trip.”

Jarvis, “I believe Mrs Bunny has the best intentions for her education. And by your leg alone could change the lives of countless former soldiers at the very least.”

The final mixture came with a balloon to be folded over the fingers to pinch two knuckles worth of the creamy mixture that would upon the pinch of the balloon turned right side up to ease a tea spoon of the other mixture that almost had the men gag for the rancid grapefruit odor it gave off before each balloon was tied off and added to a bag for the Chief. “I’ll be damned,” Stark muttered to the sizzle of his having used the same spoon to scrape off the final creamy mixture than within moments ate the spoon he dropped into the mixture entirely. “She wasn’t kidding.”

Sousa peering over his shoulder muttered, “I don’t think she does that.”

Stark smirked, “Oh she has jokes, probably just missed some. She’s a master of subtlety is my guess with her humor.”

“One thing I cannot imagine her to be anything less than subtle. Title demands it no doubt.”

Stark smirked replying, “She married the title, grew up to barely a dime to her name. Could care less about that title so long as she got James out of the deal.”

Jarvis, “It is so pleasing to know she is so deep in love for all the hassle the press has given her since her retirement from the war.”

Sousa asked, “Where’d they even meet anyways, him being a Baron and all?” His eyes scanned between the duo and he asked to their shared disbelieving glance at each other, “What? What am I missing?”

Jarvis, “They met in the war.”

Stark, “Everyone knows this, it was in all the papers. Eddie had custody of her and he got drafted to the Canadian Forces. The hospital on the base Eddie got drafted to Bunny was a Nurse there then it got attacked.” This parted Sousa’s lips, “Eddie hacked off her hair and gave her a uniform, pack and gun and kept her with him while they were sent on their missions. Military counted her as a POW till a couple years later she ran into Victor and James’ platoon they mingled with. Not long after she got shot in the shoulder and was given a field promotion to Medic, E-4? I think. Then the world knew she was alive and safe out of Nazi hands. Somewhere in there they got sent on separate missions then met up at Normandy. That last year they stuck it out then got shipped straight to King George to be medaled and then out to Canada for her to get her GED and they met Truman somewhere in there and then she went on her University tour and settled on Barnard.”

“She got shot in the shoulder?”

Jarvis, “And the neck,” Only widening the Chief’s eyes more, “And there was mention of a facial grazing.”

Sousa, “She got shot three times above the ribs?!”

Stark, “Hard to imagine how badly she could have been hurt without that magnetic powered weapon she made that kept her men safe and was able to take out panzers and planes. Heard they got put on some harrowing details for their reputations.”

Sousa said, “I’m sorry, I can’t get past the she got shot in the face and neck part. I saw her, from several angles.”

Jarvis, “She was remarkably fortunate in her healing scar free from her injuries.”

Stark patted Sousa on the shoulder, “It’s alright Daniel, give it a few more visits and read up on her a bit, head down to The Blue Bonnet in lower Manhattan they’re playing a rerun of their wedding reel and the news clips they have on her in some sort of romantic retaliation for those headlines these days. Even some comics of theirs, helps to build up some socialization with the living mystery she is, well, the whole lot of them are.”

Sousa nodded and took hold of the bag, “Well, um, thank you for this. I have to get back and try to see if I can reach Eddie to plan a drop in tonight on my perp. Be a real thrill to catch my guy before Thompson catches his Weasel Bomber.”

Jarvis, “How have they not caught him yet?”

Sousa shrugged, “He’s got the whole floor except for Peggy on the case and all he’s won is a whole library of books and evidence that actually is from the case Eddie is searching on so they’ve been chasing an imaginary tail. Just ridiculous.”

Jarvis, “Could you not simply inform this Thompson that he is working on irrelevant evidence from an unrelated matter?”

Sousa smirked and said, “No, if the moron can’t figure his foot for a clue he shouldn’t have been given that promotion. But he’s too good at kissing ass than I could ever be to have been chosen against.”

Stark smirked back, “You got that promotion too old man.” Beginning to lead him off back to the front door.

Sousa rolled his eyes and replied, “They were desperate and I was the only one with enough time under my belt.”

Jarvis, “Sometimes necessity can be quite a virtue to have on your side. You have done more than earn the rank and now you have your own team here.”

“Who hate being stuck on my team. Rather be with the fun boys on Thompson’s floor.”

Jarvis, “Well then perhaps one might be traded for Peggy one day and you might have a worthy asset to your team.”

Sousa chuckled and answered, “Baroness has her way it would be best I wasn’t her superior.”

Stark smiled openly at him and clapped a hand on his back, “Well done, I’m hoping you mean in a matter of work positions, bout time we had another member on the team to know how happy you would make each other. And it’s nice to see Peggy gaining some strong women to back her outside of work. Hard to find someone on equal footing for her I would imagine. Plus Bunny has quite the mischievous streak in her. Hell of a pair.”

Sousa asked, “Have you guys seen that Lizard guy they’re putting up a billboard of over on the East Side?”

Jarvis, “Can’t say I have.”

Stark said, “I heard some big wigs have a big order from DC to post some new ‘official PR’ for one of their new show ponies.”

Sousa, “Why do they need a new show pony?”

Stark, “WW2 is over, Cold War is brewing though. Need someone’s face to slap on those posters now that Cap’s been bought out of their use.”

Sousa’s lips parted and Jarvis explained, “Mrs Bunny owns her brother’s image in and out of the uniform. Which the shield we hear is no longer in the Government vaults.”

Sousa, “Someone stole it?!”

Stark smirked and said, “Or someone took it home where it’d be looked after.”

Sousa muttered, “Home, you mean to his sister? What would she have need for that relic? Sledding with the kids?”

Stark chuckled and Jarvis stated in an amused tone, “That would be an amusing and handy use of the old hubcap.”

Stark more for himself than Sousa stated, “Well she certainly didn’t melt it down for that leg of yours. Vibranium would have been picked up by my scanner. No doubt if she’s got it nobody will see where she’s tucked it away. Just by chance he dropped it anyways, one of the last things he touched.”

They paused at the front door and Sousa said, “Victor said she has his pictures up in the library to honor their mother. To not pretend like he never existed. I can’t imagine, said he abandoned her for the war when she was a kid. Why would she have his picture up?”

Stark replied in a hinted solemn but steady tone, “Because she’s ‘not in the business of destroying little girl’s heroes’. What she told me. Why she shares about Bucky to his sisters and mom, he was all she had and he called her a monster. If you ask me, I think she saw him over there. Mentioned once how pitiful his shows were for the troops. If anyone could keep his memory from being trapped in that forever she would. Steve hated that damn show the minute he did it for the boys over there and not people back home who cheered and clapped.”

Sousa, “People who were out there dying, you mean.”

Stark answered, “Then he ran off on his own to news Bucky got taken prisoner. Had his boots on the ground after that till he took a nose dive in that plane.”

Jarvis, “I don’t imagine it would make much difference to put his photos away. He would still be there, all those years together, would still be there. Everything he said, and did, or lack thereof. Sometimes the silence and unanswered questions can be devastating enough.”

Sousa, “I just can’t seem to get a good read on her. I normally have a good radar for people. But her and her family, I don’t know about them.” The bag in his hand was lifted a little bit and he stated, “Thanks again. Let you know how it goes with the balloons.”

Stark said to his back, “Above all, have fun with it. My good balloons are involved.” The Chief chuckled on his way to his car to make the drive back.

Up against the wall you rested your hand in a moment’s pause once you’d hung up the phone after the call from the Blair House, where President Truman and his family were currently living to let the White House receive much needed repairs. He hadn’t asked again on progress of your pregnancy, yet shared he could have another word with the papers to ease up if they continued on like this when he was set for his next event. This call however came with news that out of respect for you they had found another mascot for their propaganda campaign for this new war on the hope front. Steve was at one time all you had and in that prior purchase of the comics Truman had enforced that ownership of everything Cap to sever that government owned tag from Steve’s ear to spare you pain of his face plastered everywhere once again. The big reveal would be at an event smack in the summer break when you would be in Canada and he said that once it did come out something might be done if you wished to show support publicly. But that would not be required.

Princess Elizabeth had responded to your latest letter in the trade off correspondence and even in her gleeful description of her enjoyment of the book you had gifted the couple for their vows the trunk hidden back in Canada kept popping back into your mind. It had been well over a year now since Truman had it sent to you personally that you had moved with you back there and buried like James and Vic had buried their own treasure hoards you had helped them to unearth and go through.

You had asked Peggy about a secret love child but somehow now thoughts of how his children would have grown up next to yours kept showing their faces like tiny prairie dogs you couldn’t shake while your date grew closer. But that tether had come to an end when the two hadn’t been physical, though not entirely fruitless as you learned by means of another Beserker on earth’s skilled studies that a sperm sample had been collected once from Steve and had been kept on ice in a facility. That upon the discovery to a more advanced facility had fallen prey to a freak accident and was leveled and the sample hidden away for when you might want use of it. Along with notes of the several failed tries of fertilization into volunteers by a group of scientists. By their inspection the sample was still viable and now under their care could last much longer and when the others would arrive there would be ample up to acting as surrogate for you.

But that would all be brushed away from your mind for now once again at the kick of your own girls who would send you back to the sketches you had been working up for the Manor finishing touches when you got back. Papers already had been bought before your trip back to Brooklyn and left there to install upon your return. Colored pencils helped to choose paint shades alongside paint swatches the guys had gathered and the duo helped to design some more furniture to go with what would be divided up to fill each of your wings by means of some books they flipped through. Every one of them secured answer that you were calming upon plans of the move. None more so than a mural of sketches on easels now set aside would be painted and hung when the basic paint smells didn’t make your stomach want to turn after the birth. The plans had been solidified nearly and on the page alone the Brocks who had come over the night prior had fallen in love with the changes to your new family home.

State vs Raslo, Tillinghast, Luckstrim

District Attorney Willie Abraham stood in front of the female student playing the 23 year old Christina Flanagan while she recounted her memory of the Defendant Jesse Rasslo on his way about the building in the process of stealing the information of ownership on each of the liquidated assets. “And you are certain it was Mr Rasslo? And not any chance it could have been anyone else?”

“I could point that hideous burnt orange and fuchsia leaf patterned fiasco of a vest he always wears out of a crowd. And if you mean his face I got a good look when he got into the elevator. It’s directly across from the store room I found a hole punch in to replace mine someone had run off with the week prior. Hard to get that ugly mug out of your mind after you see it with all of his tries at playing Casanova anytime he catches wind of a skirt nearby.”

The male student smirked and asked, “And when was the next time you saw Mr Rasslo?”

“Later on at the party. Came in far more gussied up than usual and made it a point to be social. Like he had to talk to everyone in the room. But then that’s when Miss Tillinghast began to try and put on a sort of one woman musical show and I excused myself to the other end of the room where I saw Mr Rasslo talking to Mr Virgil, who then left the room.”

“Did he seem angry?”

“No, determined, like he’d won something. Every time he won something he would get this one look on his face.” From the crowd now Jarvis, Stark and Peggy were added to the mix. All seemingly impressed of these cases they had caught up on with wonder on what two were next. “The same one Mr Gordon got a few minutes later when Mr Rasslo side stepped his way through the crowd to talk to him too. The brothers left and then it was like a switch flipped and Mr Rasslo joined Miss Tillinghast in her one woman show to keep all eyes on them. Only I couldn’t go hide in the toilet anymore as the lines for those grew and then by the time I’d found another for the catering staff in their office we heard the alarm sound and we all started to file out to wait for the cops to arrive to see what was wrong.”

Impressively a large board with the blueprints of a building to stand as example for the company was used by her and the DA in her show of where everyone was by use of markers and taped up sketches of ‘photographs’ taken from that evening by the team that was usually hired. This was what the Defense teams tried to attack and when they had failed in their tries to do so she flashed you a relieved smile in her being excused from the bench to exit the courtroom again now that her part was done.

And next came the pretend 37 year old, who a student with a blanket shoved into his shirt complete with an all crème suit and hat he carried once removed to play up his part of the back story on the gun expert down to a butchered Southern accent. More large pictures were used to discredit the possible bit of testimony that could exonerate the Defendants on trial if anyone believed the malformation of guns as he stated they were formed. The proper analysis of the evidence of trajectory came next along with copies of sketches of the crime scene supplied to yourself, the General, the Jury and the Prosecution to show that things were thrown both on top of one of the casings while a book found underneath Virgil had another bullet lodged inside of it showing that the so called robbery ploy was used to hide the evidence of the true scuffle. Sketches of blood stains on the carpet came next in larger size to show their hypothesis of who died first and how like footprints and arrows that led to the next clues. All of these things were noted by the impressed author of the case who saw that without the chunk of his case he so badly wanted to have gone other ways than this.

“The State rests, Your Honor.” Mr Abraham stated in the conclusion of the testimony of their fourth witness and your eyes shifted to the Defense for wonder on how their witnesses would go the next time you were together and the case with the sound of the gavel was paused to resume at the next date given for a couple days off and you excused yourself for a mini break. The buzz of the crowd waxed and waned in the switch of the teams and comments shared by the Judges, Professors and student Press here for the trial. Of course only to dim again upon your return to show things were headed back on track.

Firske & Hahn vs Glubb Insurance

Four witnesses filled up the remainder of the time. Louis Levard was first. Age 41 who was the GP Doctor Injured parties were sent to by Ins company. With a smile Mr Bressler questioned him after hearing what the injuries were and then promptly frowned beside his partner in Defense Mr Winters to watch Mr Urton stand with human anatomy chart in hand he taped up with help of Officer Browen on the supplied easel to dig into each of the flaws of the statement he had given. The author for this case shifted uncomfortably in his seat to each mistake named and made note of them to be marked later in his report and stole glances your way as others did for the cool expression on your face and occasional tick of your brow to each note you made yourself. Fully by the end of Mr Winters retaliatory questions the crowds could see just why his license was being challenged.

Wallace Walstead of the seasoned age of 51 was next. The Eye Doctor who felt the same fire from the oven he had been seated upon since the moment of being sworn in also with a challenged license. The student’s clear study into the anatomy of the eye led to a shaky but useful dissection of another anatomy chart that proved Miss Hahn’s injuries to her eye were far greater than put on by the Insurance Doctor.

Samuel Strenberg Age 39 came next for the most amusing one yet. Paid for several cases for their testimonies as it was revealed by use of copies of the bank notices added to the case to go with fake court dates and snippets from each trial where they played the satisfied patient. The audience watched with amused smiles while you shifted back in your seat with ample notes being taken to keep from smiling openly to the nearly awed expression on the author’s face to how this one throwaway witness he had written was being used by Mr Urton for the injured parties.

And lastly, smug as hell Bob Kleeman all of 47, Ins Rep on policy for coverage nearly had to be drug off the stand y the end of his testimony within which he defends his stance that since they didn’t go to approved Doctors first to be referred to ER’s afterwards they are responsible for all charges. Even against all the evidence, diagrams and otherwise, he held firm and heated up the room to a degree that had everyone pleased to call it a day by the time the gavel fell.

Into the halls people pooled with excited chatter on how the end of this phase of the case had gone with hopes that the witnesses for the Defense on the murder case would go the next day the court would be called. Stark however found your side and smiled stating, “Very well done on choosing these cases.”

“Oh I didn’t choose them. Just led them a bit out of the gutter.” Your eyes shifted to some of the awed Science students and you said, “I think you might be paraded around a bit today.”

His head shook, “Easy return for the show you gave us. Enjoy your classes. Gladly play show pony in return for today.”

Peggy with a smirk wished you a comfy next class, a sentiment that Jarvis shared in his own amused send off and shift to follow Stark as if to keep him from being eaten by the crowds that pooled around him to grant you a clearer walk with your family to the next class you had.

Pt 62

All –

@sherala007, @mariannetora, @jesgisborne, @knitastically, @catthefearless, @theincaprincess, ggbbhehe4455, @lilith15000, @alishlieb,

Not nsfw(smut) - @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore

X Marvel-Cast - @himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @changlingkhat

Brother Dearest - @thorinanddwalinsdwarrowdam, @swoopswishsward

#Daniel Sousa #Jarvis #Howard Stark #Borrowing Stark's Lab #Hashing up the past #Questions #Mysteries #New Mascot to Come #Failed Baby Cap Experiments #Mock Trials #Peggy Carter

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svnarintaro · 4 years

Text

you’re still my hero

authors note: i don’t know why but i’ve been pushing out imagines like crazy,, so i’m really going to try and make this one really good this time :))

synopsis: after finding more about eri, you working on the case as well you witness mirio acting strange, he believes he is no longer a hero, you comfort him through his doubt.

warnings: comfort and fluff :)

words: 1.3k

mirio togata x reader

'i couldve saved her,' repeated over and over again in the in mirio's head.. eri was an innocent life and she could've been rescued but he felt like he turned a blind eye and chose to side with the yakuza. 'i lost eri and i confessed y/n and she hasn't looked me in the eye since, great mirio you screwed up twice.' as his vision started to blur and shake he heard someone calling him out.

"mirio can you hear me?" he looked up to see you, nejire and tamaki hovering around him. all four of you were underneath work studies with heroes that were involved in the case, "sorry guys," mirio chuckled trying to hide the fact he was still deep in thought about what happened during meeting, it was clearly bothering him, but you all saw it fit that you didn't pry into his business.

"hey how about we all get something at a convenience store, i doubt that the mess hall is still open," nejire tried to break the silence and ease the solemn air, for a split second you saw mirio frown until i gave the same smile, the same bright smile he put on everyday but this time it was forced, "yeah guys nejire is right let's get something to eat." so the the four of you walked out of the building and started to head towards the near by store.

by the time you guys got to dorms, you knew something was wrong. something with mirio did not sit right with you, noticed and picked up on every single thing that was off with mirio; like how he walked behind everyone, how his smile wasn't as wide when he was offered his favourite drink, how hi was really unresponsive. now you were in your room staring at the ceiling, 'everyone has been on edge recently, i really hope that they can all pull it off, or that poor little girl..' you shook your head to stop your train of thought.

after another hour of staring off into space to put yourself at ease you stood up from your bed and decided to walk downstairs to get some water and maybe take a breather outside. 'right.. you got this y/n you need to take a break, you need to breathe.' taking one step at a time to reduce the amount noise that was going to be emitted when you walked down the stairs. you paused to see mirio with head in his knees.

he looked like an honest wreck. his hair was messy and was facing all directions, his eyes looked tired, tear stains were prominent on his face. you silently went to the kitchen and grabbed two mugs and started to boil some water, you dipped the tea bags in the hot water and once it fully steeped you turned off the lights and tip toed towards togata.

you placed the mugs on the table in front of him, he flinched at the the sight of something popping up in his field of vision.

"togata.. i don't know what you are going through right now." you softly spoke and chose your words wisely, he did not need to over think your words, your hands fell into your lap and you brought your gaze to see his blue eyes. "you made the right choice, you saved her some time for us to save her, you saved that little girl.." you brought yourself to squat down in front of the blond boy. his eyes now met yours and he could feel a wave of emotions, he wanted to scream, he wanted to hug you, he wanted to break something but he didn't. he started to cry again.

"i'm no hero, i didn't save eri yet. i failed her. i failed everyone.." he was at his breaking point. "a hero doesn't fall apart y/n, i can't be a hero.. not like this.." you stood up and gently hugged mirio, with his face in your stomach he wrapped his arms around your waist and he cried, "i can't live up to my name, how can i save one million people if i can't even save a little girl, how can you even look at me without shredding an ounce of pity." your heart broke at his own words. he failed to see that he was a role model, that he was someone that people could depend on he was someone that could be trusted to save a little girl, you knew he needed to hear that he was not a failure, he needed to hear the honest truth.

"mirio, you are a hero.. you are still a hero, you still manage to brighten the room with your smile, you assure that everyone is safe within your presence." you cupped his cheeks and wild the remaining tear that was yet to be absorbed from your t-shirt. "i'm no hero y/n-" "mirio you are still my hero, you rescued me from being lonely, you rescued me from falling into my dark times, you made me realize that i am still able to tell you that yes i like you too.." he was leaning into your touch, you smiled and continued to talk, "a hero isn't someone that puts a brave face and only save people from danger but someone who can also influence others for the better."

mirios breath hitched as he processed what you had just said, you returned his feelings, you said that you liked him back, he knew how you felt now. on the other hand you couldn't stop talking, you were spilling your emotions about him, your feelings got into the way but it was too late to back out now. your grip on him loosened but mirio resorted back to shoving his face to your stomach. in the fear that you said too much and embarrassed yourself you apologized over and over again for making him uncomfortable but he stood up and brought you with him and enveloped you in the hug, bringing his arms to wrap around your shoulders and you arms rested on his waist. "y/n.. thank you.. thank you for not giving up on me.." he looked down so see your eyes underneath the sun light of the room, making his heart flutter, "thank you for giving me the strength to be brave and continue to save people, thank you for being here for me.." his girl tightened and you leaned in towards his body as he continued, "and i can tell you this much."

he took your hands into his, gave you a smile and squeezed them tight, "i will continue to be your hero since you became mine." and with that he kissed your cheek.

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jj-lives · 4 years

Text

Overgrown Inktober - Bmblb

The pale orange glow peeking through the closed curtains told Blake it was too early for her to be awake. Yang still slept peacefully beside her, as she had the morning before when Blake stared at the ceiling for hours. She tried to fall back to sleep, even gently curling into Yang’s side, which normally had her passing out in minutes, could not turn off the thoughts swimming in her mind. It shouldn’t matter who Yang was back in highschool. It shouldn’t matter that the picture Blake had in her head wasn’t correct. Yang told her once she didn’t have many friends growing up. She’d told her Pyrrha was her first friend. But that wasn’t true. The group they’d run into two days before proved that.

Blake was upset but she couldn’t decide if it was because Yang had been dishonest with her or that the picture of the two of them being kindred spirits was washed away at the knowledge. She’d seen Yang as her equal. Her partner. Her… soulmate. But those things were in part based on the knowledge they’d both been lonely and slightly lost before they’d found each other.

She knew it was stupid. Taking a moment to watch Yang sleep frustrated her more. She didn’t love Yang any less. How could she? She was still the same loving, beautiful, always-put-others-before-herself self. It wasn’t possible for Blake to love Yang any less when each day she woke up next to her, and each night she fell asleep wrapped in the other’s arms, she fell more and more hopelessly in love.

Giving up on sleep and feeling restless Blake slipped out of bed before she woke Yang with her tossing. She didn’t want to answer the questions Yang would ask at her being up so early. She didn’t want Yang seeing this petty side of her that was upset she’d had a happier, more friend-filled, childhood than her own.

Making her way quietly to the kitchen downstairs she thought a cup of tea might calm her. She knew she needed to figure out a way to put these thoughts behind her. It shouldn’t matter. And maybe that’s why she was so worked up about it all. She knew she was acting irrationally, and she wasn’t used to that.

This wasn’t her.

The kettle just came to a boil when Tai walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’re up early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Blake simply replied. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be great, thanks.”

She poured the boiling water in a teapot before carrying it and two cups to the table where Tai had settled. They sat in silence waiting for the tea to steep, but as she poured them both a cup Tai finally broke the silence.

“Any reason you couldn’t sleep?”

“Not really.”

She knew he meant well but she really didn’t think talking to Yang’s dad about their relationship was a good idea. Especially since she’d only met the man not even a week ago. This was something he probably wouldn't understand. The fact she didn't quite understand proved that. If she couldn't figure out her own mind how was a stranger supposed to help her?

“Yang wasn’t snoring was she?” Tai took a sip from the cup Blake slid over to him. “She used to wake Ruby and I all the time.”

“Really?” Blake asked, amused. If only it was that simple. “She’s not that bad now.”

“That’s good to hear. I take you as kind to be dangerous with little sleep.”

Blake laughed.

“Hardly. Though, I wonder why you approached me this morning if you thought I’d be dangerous.”

“I like to live a little on the wild side.” He sent a teasing wink Blake’s direction.

“So that’s where Yang gets it from.”

“She sure does come off as a thrill seeker, that’s for sure.” Finishing the last of his tea he seemed to be observing Blake. She wasn’t sure why and it was starting to unnerve her. “I was about to head out to do some gardening. Would you like to join me?”

“I-“

“Don’t tell me my daughter brought home a princess scared to get a little dirt under her fingernails?”

“Hey!” Indignant was an understatement. The last thing anyone would call her was a princess. “I think you’re getting your daughter’s girlfriends confused.” The quirk of his lip told Blake she’d played right into his hand. He’d meant to force a reaction from her. But two could play at that game. “I’ll join you, however. I wouldn’t want you injuring yourself in your confusion, Old man.”

Tai threw his head back and roared.

“Oh I knew you couldn’t be only the meek and quiet girl that turned up on my doorstep a few days ago. There had to have been some attitude hidden away to have Yang falling so hard.”

Blake knew she was blushing.

“Come on then. Let’s get to work.” Tai stood. “Do you want to change first?”

Shaking her head Blake carried their cups to the sink. “I wouldn’t want to wake Yang. I’ll change once she gets up. Besides it’s warm out.”

Following him to the shed outside he threw her a spare pair of gloves before leading her to the flowerbed on the side of the house.

“You know what are weeds, right?”

Kneeling on one side Blake nodded again.

Tai shook his head. “You are a woman of few words, Blake.”

“Hmmm,” she hummed in reply. “I think it sometimes infuriates your daughter.”

They worked in silence side by side for about an hour before Tai’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She was glad for the distraction as the monotony of her task was allowing her mind to wander to unpleasant thoughts again.

“You aren’t picking these annoying beasts.” He pointed out pulling a spindly light green plant from its spot next to a half bloomed tulip. “They are impossible to get rid of.”

“Get rid of?” Blake looked back at the patch she’d cleared. “I’d agree. But they are pretty easy to manage and you want to keep some around. They naturally deter pests and their scent drives away mosquitoes as well.”

“Hmm,” Tai looked at the plant with less distaste. “You really know your plants, huh?”

“My mother has a large garden and I grew up helping her manage it.” Shrugging her shoulder she threw another weed into her growing pile. “I also read a lot.”

“Oh, a scholar.” Tai laughed. “Can’t believe my little social butterfly grew up and fell in love with a bookworm.” Shaking his head he went back to work.

“Yeah.” Blake roughly picked another weed, accidentally half uprooting a daisy behind it. “Ugh.”

She could feel Tai’s eyes on her as his hands stilled.

“I heard you ran into some of the old gang a few days ago.” He said quietly.

“Sure did.” Blake responded, packing the daisy’s roots back securely in the dirt. Hopefully it would continue to thrive and not wilt. “The Xiao Long Legend.” Blake paused, picking up a ladybug from a weed she was currently wanting to get rid of. She placed it on the petal of one of the tulips in an area she’d already cleared. “That’s what they called her.”

Tai chuckled at the old nickname.

“She sure was always surrounded by a lot of schoolmates.”

"Sure seems like she had an abundance of friends."

"You would not believe some of the stories I could tell you of how Yang always found herself at the center of some ordeal or another." Blake responded by doubling her efforts, moving over a foot and working at clearing the new section. "But that doesn't equate to the same thing as friendships."

Her hands stopped halfway through pulling a difficult, long-rooted weed from the middle of the patch.

"Some people protect themselves through silence and mystery. Some choose a different path."

"I don't understand." Blake was sure the silent mystery he mentioned was aimed at her but she wasn't sure where he was trying to lead their conversation.

"You, I would wager, cover up who you are with weeds and thorns."

"I-"

"So others have to pick each prickly problem before they earn your trust and get to see the flower beneath that rough exterior.”

He motioned to the flower garden. Most had been picked clean from their continued ministrations. The colourful flowers once hidden by the quick growing wall of weeds now on display ready to flourish. But there was a small section still covered by a thick overgrowth that continued to block the light from reaching the life within.

“Tai. How-“

“But my eldest daughter. Ever the first to step forward with a hug or a smile. The one that lives to brighten everyone else’s day…” He paused, caressing a bright yellow marigold. “Well, like I said. Some hide in the shadows covered in thorns for protection. Others hide in plain sight, letting forced smiles and mock laughter distract others from finding out what truly lies beneath.”

“Blake.” Yang’s muffled call drifted to their ears followed by quickened heavy steps descending the stairs inside.

“You and her are more alike than you think. Both hiding behind a wall of overgrowth.” Tai smiled warmly. “Yang’s can be harder to see because it’s hidden well. But I would bet she shows you a side of herself she hasn’t shown many. I’d wager you know aspects of my daughter I don’t even get to see.”

Blake remembered the scared, frail girl that knocked on her door before spring break, terrified of losing her. The sad and lonely side that she showed her behind closed doors during finals. The frantic fear Yang failed to hold back the night of her apartment fire.

“I can finish out here.” Tai spoke, breaking her thoughts. “You should go find yang before she destroys all of Patch looking for you.”

Blake stood, dusting the dirt and grass from her knees.

“And Blake.”

“Yes?”

To Blake, it looked like Tai was fighting back tears, but she couldn't fathom why.

“I would trade all the ridiculous stories of Yang’s youth and classmates to have had you come into her life sooner. And I’m positive Yang feels the same way.”

Blake smiled, understanding exactly what he meant. She felt the same about Yang and would give anything to have had more time with her. Brushing her hand along his shoulders in a silent action of comfort she made her way to the front of the small home. Yang stepped onto the porch with a worried expression.

All the doubt and negative emotions that were building the past two days washed away at the sight of her. Blake couldn’t understand why she’d been wasting time she could have been peacefully enjoying in her girlfriend's presence.

“Never again,” she promised.

“What was that?” Yang questioned.

Blake took the front steps two at a time and rushed to Yang’s side, wrapping her arms securely around Yang’s framed and burying her face in the crook of Yang’s neck. Blake breathed deep and hummed her approval.

Yang laughed, squeezing Blake just as tightly in return.

“What’s gotten you so clingy?”

“I’m just really happy.” Blake whispered, pulling back to place a soft kiss to Yang’s lips. As Yang pressed to deepen the kiss Blake spun out of her arms.

“Hey!” Yang’s disappointment was evident. “You’re such a tease.”

Blake laughed, grabbing Yang’s hand and pulled her into the house. Giddy was the closest word she knew to describe how she was feeling. She squeezed Yang’s hand her cursory three times as she dragged her through the lower level of the house.

“I need to shower and change clothes. While you were sleeping your father was putting me to work.”

Yang held tight to Blake’s hand as they made their way upstairs.

“Do I get to join you in this shower?”

A sharp pull spun Blake around. Yang stepped forward, trapping Blake against the closed bathroom door; their still entwined hands pinned to the wood just above Blake’s head. She sucked in a sharp breath before Yang stole the kiss she’d denied her on the porch. Blake melted and a moan escaped her as she returned the kiss.

“Is that a yes?” Yang queried as they pulled a part.

Blake groaned. Yang was the only one able to tempt her in these ways. Entwining the fingers of her free hand in the curls at the base of Yang’s neck she pulled her in for another sultry kiss. She was about to open the door and drag Yang in, accepting her earlier proposal when the open window at the end of the hall brought a whistled tune to her ears.

She pushed Yang roughly back, breathing hard she ran her hands through her hair lest they grab Yang in their desperate need to have her closer.

“Your dad is right outside.”

“We could be-“

“Quiet?” Blake shook her head. “I can’t Yang.”

Her disappointed groan amused Blake. The slumped figure against the opposite wall was something she pitied.

“But if you’re good for the next two days…” Blake spoke, opening the door behind her and half disappearing from Yang’s view. “I can arrange for Ruby to be gone for a few days when we get back home.”

“Deal.” Yang was quick to agree as Blake chuckled and closed the door, locking it for good measure.

God did she love that girl

#bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #fanfic #my writing #rwby #inktober

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9087miles · 3 years

Text

A Tale of Two Cities (well, one city and a town) - A Cambridge mini break: Part 2 of 2

I awoke with a bit of a buzz. Just last night we had briefly met one of the people who have helped to shape the LGBT movement for decades. When we arrived back at the hotel after the book-signing - which was just around the corner from the venue - Tom joked that Armistead was probably staying at the hotel. That was an exciting and completely plausible thought. We ordered room service, ate and went to sleep.

In the morning we went downstairs for a morning cigarette and chatted about event, as well as the plan for the day. It still wasn’t really punting weather, but we agreed to suck it up - it could be months or even years before we came back to Cambridge - and you just can’t put things off in the UK because the weather isn’t nice (otherwise you’d possibly never do anything! We only had the morning to get it done, because we had planned to go off to the Stained Glass Museum in Ely, a short drive from Cambridge.

On the way back up to the room when the elevator stopped, we said good morning to a handsome tall guy waiting for the lift with a big labradoodle. It reminded me of a scene from one of the middle books in the Tales series. In it, the main character Michael and his boyfriend Ben live in domestic bliss with a big fluffy dog, just like the elevator dog. I wondered if it could have been Armistead’s partner Chris and their dog. I waited until we got to the door of our room before I shared the suspicion with Tom. It was a bit of a stretch, but an exciting thought nonetheless.

Downstairs in the dining room, we sat down and I started to feel a little bit hungover. We hadn’t drank that much but the adrenalin of the night before must have been wearing off. Tom got up to get us coffee and I scanned the room. So many gay couples; it felt like we actually in San Francisco. I spotted Tom powering into the room carrying two steaming demitasse cups on saucers, a bemused look on his face. He’d barely placed the cups on the table as he blurted out, “Armistead’s here. He’s getting breakfast!” I grinned and shook my headache to collect a plate for the breakfast buffet. While up there he brushed past, copping knowing glances from the other men in the line. Tom offered to toast bread for Armistead while he was hovering at the stupid conveyor belt toaster waiting for some artisanal sourdough to come though. When he declined, Tom put his own underdone toast in for a second round and left me to watch it while he went to pour us a juice. The toaster couldn’t cope with the second round and the result was a pair of charred remains sliding down onto the receiver tray. I put them on the plates and proceeded back to the dining room. Armistead and Chris had been seated at the opposite corner and the groups at other tables were casting knowing glances and whispering amount themselves. It must have been a very strange breakfast for the handful guests that hadn’t been at the talk the night before.

After we packed up and checked out, we called for our car to be returned and went outside to sneak in a cheeky cigarette before it arrived from the basement. Lo and behold, Armistead, Chris and their dog exited the hotel and stood under eve of the hotel entrance, waiting for a car. They were talking to the journalist that had conducted the interview the night before. I tried not to eavesdrop, but couldn’t, and listened as they chatted pleasantly until a minicab arrived. The bid each other farewell and moved wheeled the luggage over to the cab. I could see Chris looking displeased as the cab driver said something through the passenger window and shook his head. We realised that the cab driver wouldn’t let them in the car with the dog, even though it had been mentioned when it was booked.

Tom put his cigarette out and started out towards the melee. “What on earth is he doing?” I wondered. I finished my own smoke and slowly approached. Tom was telling Armistead and Chris that he really didn’t mind as long as they knew the address of the train station. The next few minutes were a flurry of activity. We fit in as much of their luggage into the boot along with ours (and a load of recycling destined for the tip - how embarrassing!) and then all piled in, the dog on Chris’ lap and Armistead’s overnighter on mine.

The conversation was constant the whole way to the station, despite having only briefly shaken hands. We spoke of many things - our respective moves to the UK, the origin of Philo the dog’s name and collective nouns. Armistead spoke at length about a Tales of the City spin-off set in the Cotswolds, at which point Tom offered up our spare room if they needed to base themselves in the area for research. As I write this, the book is still to be published, but focuses on a story from one of the middle books in which Mona, a stoic Californian lesbian, moving to England in the 1980s and winding up marrying an English Lord in a small village in Gloucestershire. We arrived at the train station having chatted the whole way. It would seem I had overcome my fear of idols - I didn’t sit there like a stunned mullet, but eloquently contributed to the intelligent conversation. Or at least that’s the way I remember it! We got out to assist with all of the luggage and Chris gave us his card and said to get in touch if we came to London. We all hugged goodbye, gave Philo a pat on the head and carried on to the second part of the trip - Ely.

One of the strangest things about Cambridge is that, despite being a busy metropolis, it is classified as a town. In Western Australia a town can be classed as a city once the population cracks th 20,000 mark. In the UK, a city is considered anywhere where there is a cathedral. To this end Cambridge (with a population of 120K) is not a city, but Ely (with its cathedral but a measly 18K) is one. Go figure?!

We arrived in Ely after about half an hour and the rain had let up a little. It was like entering a ghost town compared to the hustle and bustle of Cambridge. We got out of the car and went to take a look at Ely Cathedral, which is also home to the Stained Glass Museum. The cathedral itself was pretty impressive and we’d arrived on a particularly busy day. All of the pews had been cleared out of the nave and replaced with large displays of impressive homegrown veg, live sheep and a number of ancient handicrafts. I got chatting with a Kiwi lady from the local spinners and weavers guild for a while; admiring the guild’s giant great wheel.

We finished looking around and made our way to the south corner, where a steep staircase lead up to the museum. Inside, we purchased tickets and entered the exhibit, which extended along the gallery on one whole side of the church. Impressively backlit, the pieces were sectioned up according to era from medieval all the way up to modern day. There were some impressive Renaissance pieces, but my favourite was the early 20th century deco/nouveau stuff. Tom took a liking to the more modern works, some of them by fellow members of The Worshipful Company of Glaziers.

We spent quite a while in the gift shop. Partly because Tom was admiring another modern piece and trying to work out the trick behind the technique used, but mostly because it was a good gift shop. Tom got himself the museum book for later reference, as well as a couple of postcards. I couldn’t stop playing with the giant blue glass tombolas, so I got one!

We drove back in the late afternoon chatting the whole way and made it back, knackered, from a big weekend of sightseeing and celebrity-chaffeuring in time for a late tea and bed.

#stories #Cambridge #ely #armistead maupin #tom #ricky

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cultureisdarkbeer · 5 years

Note

I need you to write me some jealous Scully please! Surprise me.

Here’s some jealous Scully for your reading pleasure. Sorry it took so long, I was lost out at sea for a couple months.

“I see Mulder is back to work. Looks like he wasn’t hurt too badly from his bout with the serial killer,” Brittany said to Scully as they continued their conversation over Scully’s bullpen desk. They had been making small talk when the sentence casually fell from Brittany’s lips. “Kelly ran into him at a restaurant with his girlfriend Sunday.”

The words howled in Scully’s soul and wrapped icy tentacles around her heart so tightly it almost stopped beating. It didn’t matter if it was true or illusion. The mere utterance of a chance that he could be living a part of his life she was unaware was too much At the same time, how could she be so irrational? When did she allow herself to become a slave to her emotions? When did she lose control?

Scully forced a smile. “Mulder’s a quick healer.”

Once downstairs, Scully found Mulder in the back of the office, on his cell. He turned to greet her with a half smile, his eyes brightening. Then he quickly turned away and lowered his voice so she couldn’t make out what he was saying to the person on the phone. She didn’t need to be jumping to conclusions. Maybe the repercussions with Pfaster affected her in ways she had not anticipated. Mulder’s phone snapped closed and he joined her by her desk.

“I may have another case for us,” he said leaning in close enough for her to catch his scent and feel the heat of his cheek. It made her want to press her lips to his and forget any of the day happened. She closed her eyes and he cleared his throat. Their pull had already stirred her lower region, and by the looks of it, his as well.

She forced her mind to focus. “Is that who you were on the phone with? A possible lead?”

Mulder’s eyes diverted to the desk. “No.”

Bricks sat at her chest and a paralyzing chill snaked up her spine. “Dinner, tonight?” she managed to get out without showing her cards.

“I can’t. I-I want to, I just, I have plans. Tomorrow?”

Scully couldn’t help but feel crestfallen. “Yeah, yes, of course.”

“Hey,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She wanted to shrug it away, but she wasn’t about to have this conversation at work. She had to hold it together. He continued. “Maybe I can come over after, if it’s not too late.”

“Sure,” Scully said, her voice almost at a whisper, “if it’s not too late.”

Later that night, back at home and after dinner, Scully retreated from the shower. Not wanting to think about what Mulder might be doing and where, she diverted her mind to more satisfying contemplation. Part of her thoughts were in the lab reviewing casework, yet another remained on their antics over the past weekend. Maybe she had been letting her fears get the best of her. When Mulder looked at her it made her feel like she was the most beautiful, the most important person in the world. And the loving, deep expression that overtook him when they were together.

Dreamily, she flopped her robe covered body onto her bed. She leaned back on her elbows and glanced at the mirror attached to her dresser. Her robe had drifted to the side, exposing her sex to the reflection. Her mind stopped drifting. Was that the view that Mulder had when he was going down on her? Did he like what he saw? Did it excite him? The image of him between her legs, made her send her fingers down to delicately swipe around her clit. Visions of his tongue pressing gently against her folds, swirling around, underneath, inside. The hot, wet feeling of his mouth vibrating against her as he moaned; she moaned, sharp lightning shooting through her.

Her fingers increased their friction, but it wasn’t enough. She reached for her bullet and switched it to high, focusing it around her clit with the palm of her hand, vibrating along while her long thin delicate finger softly slipped inside. The more she thought of Mulder- his hard thin body, his eyes tender embrace- the wetter she became. Her second finger followed the first and she imagined Mulder sliding inside. The thrust of his cock, the pulsing contraction of his orgasm against her walls. Secretly, she craved for him to come so hard his heart would never let him look at another, that he’d never let her go. She wanted him to pour so much of himself inside her that later in the night when he had fallen asleep in her arms, she would still be able to feel him, a beautifully sore ache; part of him, mixing with her, overflowing and dripping from her, onto the bedsheet. She slid her fingers deeper inside, curling them, toying with her G-spot. When she climaxed, she silently mouthed Mulder’s name, his face ingrained in her imagination.

Scully switched off the vibrator and swallowed hard, her heart racing. She was losing control of her emotions and her rationale. During the time she had her cancer, she knew then that she had fallen in love with him, but now she was falling in love with Mulder in a different, more permanent and solidified way. Mulder had told her the way he felt, but was it the same unconditional unfathomable all-consuming feeling that she had for him?

Scully noticed the time. Mulder still hadn’t called. Instead of sliding on her nightwear, she got dressed and headed out.

The light went out in Mulder’s apartment and Scully’s stomach sank. What would be left of their relationship if she didn’t trust him? He had to have his reasons. Whether it was him trailing a clue to his sister, or an undercover case, but even so, he could need her help as much as he didn’t want her involved. He usually did. With that justification, Scully left her car and entered the elevator. It crept along, whirring and squealing, until finally, the doors slid open. The clicking of her heels echoed against the wood of the hallway as they had done so many times before, but this time, it felt empty. She prayed as her key entered his lock- the one he trusted her with- that her reasons were as altruistic as she hoped. Inside she shuffled his papers and logged into his computer. There were no clues. Nothing unusual. In his garbage can lay a crumpled bag. Before leaving, she decided to look inside, thinking maybe it might give a clue as to where he had been.

Her heart climbed into her throat and shattered in a disarray of pieces. There was no mistaking the printed drug store receipt: deodorant, shaving cream, lotion, razor blades, shampoo, lube, and condoms. Condoms. They didn’t use condoms. Ever. There was no need. They had no venereal diseases. Besides, they had entertained sex so many times, it would be ineffective now. Why?

She started to get a very sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. Maybe he was using them alone? No, that was grasping at straws. Could he actually be with another woman?

That thought did it. She barely made it to the sink before she began to vomit. She had never felt so disgusted in her life. Betrayed. Was their relationship, all those years, nothing more than a beautiful lie? Had she shared herself with a stranger? Scully lurched out of his apartment. She rather be sick in the street than spend one more minute there.

Hands trembling, heart pounding, she drove, trying not to lose it. How could this be? She had never known Mulder to be with anyone, but if he was, would it be cheating? Were they together?

Not knowing where else to go and not wanting to go back to her apartment, Scully headed to her mother’s. She was a quivering mess of nerves when she finally parked her car in front of the house. As soon as her mother opened the door and got a good look at her face, Scully froze. Scant moments past and Maggie’s arms were wrapped around her, stroking her hair as she did when she was a little girl. Her mother’s concern undid her. She heard a broken sob escape from her throat, as though from a distance. Scully had been so certain not to leave her heart unprotected, to convince herself it was all fleeting. In the end, she had no control, even with that.

“Scully, what is it?” Mulder’s voice vibrated through the room.

Scully hardened in her mother’s arms and stepped away. She felt heat suffuse her cheeks and a perverse shiver of pure pleasure rocked her body at the sight of him. It was just like Mulder to appear at the most disarming moment possible.

“Dana, what’s wrong?” Her mother’s voice was shaky. What was going on here? What was Mulder doing in her mother’s house?

“Why are you here?” Scully demanded. “I thought you had a date?”

“I didn’t have a date,” Mulder spat out.

“Who were you with last night?” Scully couldn’t control the accusations leaving her lips. She knew how it sounded with her mother standing right there, but at the moment she didn’t care. She had to know the truth.

“I was with a woman.”

That struck a nerve. A sharp dagger direct to the gut. Scully straightened. “I know you were. The whole damn FBI knew you were.”

“It’s not what you think.” Mulder looked almost smug and it only infuriated her more.

“So now you’re reading minds?” Scully reached in her front pocket and pulled out the crinkled receipt, slapping it against Mulder’s chest. “This, is yours.”

He took it from her hand and glanced it over. “Scully, give me a chance to explain.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation Mulder,” she said feeling angrier by the minute.

“But I do,” her mother interrupted. “Fox is here because I asked him to come. Dana, why don’t you and I got to the kitchen and discuss this privately. I’ll make some tea.”

In a blink, Maggie had the tea kettle full, boiling water, the sugar bowl out and cups laid out on the table.

“I’ll be right back,” Scully warned Mulder who nodded slowly, sending his tongue into his cheek.

By the time she reached the kitchen she was regretting getting out of bed this morning. Whatever new and exciting information her mother had for her in the kitchen, she wasn’t prepared.

Scully waited as her mother steeped the tea and set a cup in front of her. She sat down next to Scully. “You know about my bereavement group at the church.”

“Yes, of course,” Scully said. She knew Mulder would have nothing to do with a church group. What was it that her mother was having so much trouble revealing?

“It’s been five years since your father passed away and I’ve made lots of friends at that bereavement group.” Maggie took a sip of her tea and ran her finger around the delicate porcelain handle. “One of those friends asked me out to dinner with him.”

That caused Scully’s chin to lift. “He did?” Her mother was seeing a man? And Mulder knew? The only two people she trusted in the world were both leaving her in the dark.

“Yes,” her mother continued, “It’s been decades since I even entertained the idea of being on a date with a man and I was so nervous and I found myself at the pharmacy, just staring at all this… stuff.”

Scully hid her smile in her tea. The dedicated Catholic seeking advice from Mulder. “And Mulder helped you out with this… problem?”

“Yes.” Her mother blushed.

“Well, mom, I’m sure Dad would want you to be happy.” Scully picked up her cup and rose from the table. This was too uncomfortable to get into now and it still didn’t explain who he was having dinner with the other night.

“We shouldn’t leave Mulder out there too long,” Scully said as an excuse. She didn’t know how she felt about her mom going on dates or seeking Mulder for advice on prophylactics and she didn’t want to think about it any longer.

“I’m going to run to the store,” her mother said, already heading back into the living room where Mulder was lounging on her chesterfield. “You two need to talk.” She gently took Scully’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Listen to him Dana. He’s a good man and he cares about you very deeply.”

Scully set her mouth in a hard line. “It doesn’t matter how he feels mom, if I can’t live with how he acts.”

Maggie shook her head. “You two will talk. I’ll be back.”

“Well, I guess I better sit down for this one,” Scully said sarcastically, taking a seat on the couch next to Mulder, tucking her leg up underneath her. He leaned in to speak, giving her almost no personal space. Scully didn’t break Mulder’s gaze or steer away from the pain forming in his eyes. With all this revelation she had started to feel lightheaded.

“So why don’t you tell me about that woman you took to the restaurant?” Scully asked, a hint of accusation in her voice. They might as well get it over with.

“Her sister had been abducted,” he let out slowly, his voice pitched low. “Her situation sounded so much like my own.”

“So you connected with this woman.”

“I listened to her story. That is all.”

Suddenly, Scully felt sick to her stomach. “Mulder, I’d like to believe that it was all, I really would, but that wouldn’t be the truth. That part of you goes to a place that I cannot follow and I couldn’t possibly understand.”

“How can you say that Scully, you lost your sister too.”

“It’s not the same and you know it’s not. I know where my sister is, what happened to her life. My childhood has not been having to deal with that grief.”

Mulder fell silent for so long Scully didn’t think he was going to answer, but it was important to her that he did.

“What happened to my sister will never come between us,” he finally said. Even though she knew he couldn’t make such a promise, it somehow made things more palpable.

She forced her voice and expression empty as she spoke, wanting honesty from Mulder without him fearing retaliation. “And this woman, you plan on seeing more of her?” The sick knot in her stomach was growing.

“She needs someone Scully. Someone to talk to about this.”

And I need you. She wanted to say the words aloud, but they wouldn’t come. Instead she simply said, “Oh.”

Mulder gently sent his index finger to caress her cheek. “That’s why I introduced her to a group within MUFON where she can find like minded people to discuss her experiences.”

His words struck her silent. She had misread Mulder. How? She knew him as well as she knew herself. Maybe more. How did she allow such irrational emotions to tamper with seeing him in full clarity?

Mulder had begun to smile, but fell broodily silent. After a moment, he asked, “I know you’ve always accepted my past, but now that we are more, how could you want something so sordid? You deserve so much more, Scully.”

She covered his hand with her own as it lay on the cushion. “I knew what going down this path would mean, and I would not pursue something I didn’t want.” He looked relieved, but oddly sad at her response. Unwillingly, she felt some of her walls weakening. “The way I feel about you scares me Mulder,” she admitted, feeling slightly panicked that she had revealed so much.

The look of longing he returned made Scully want to lose herself in him. Without a thought, her eyes closed and she felt the fullness of his spongy lips press against her own. She kissed him back with all the pent-up longing he had built in her. There was so much she wanted to tell him, about her feelings, about his. She tried to put it all into their kiss. It was a much more efficient form of communication. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she leaned against his warm hard frame. His hand grasped her back to steady her as she shifted her weight onto him. She wasted no time slipping her tongue against his and her hand had already begun to unbutton his shirt to feel his delicious bare skin with her fingertips, when she heard the door creak open and forcibly pulled away.

Maggie smiled as she took off her coat and Mulder quickly left Scully’s side on the couch, to take her bags of groceries to the kitchen and place them on the counter. Mulder eyed her sheepishly, but she didn’t say a word about what she had walked in on.

Maggie returned to the living room and addressed Scully instead. “Well, I assume you two had a good conversation. I’m glad you were able to work it out.”

“Thank you, Mom,” Scully said, giving her mom a kiss on the cheek and ushering Mulder with her eyes. “It’s getting late. I’ll call you in the morning?”

“Certainly, dear,” Maggie replied with a self-satisfying grin.

Mulder hunched over to get closer to Scully as they walked to their respectable cars. “I guess we’ll be calling it a night,” he said blandly.

Scully put one hand on her door handle and lifted her chin his way. “You can follow me to my apartment. We should continue our..” her tongue reached out and caressed her lips, “conversation.”

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simonxriley · 4 years

Note

188 Dialogue for Liz x Price? pretty please -w-)

This was going to be a bit different, then I played the new MW and I decided I was going to write about AU Liz and Price who are already married and have their kids! This won’t contain any spoilers since it’s a few weeks prier to the events of it. I hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

200 DIALOGUE PROMPTS

Warnings: Very, very light smut.

Prompt 188: “I would die before I let anything happen to you”

The sound of the tea kettle going off forced Liz’s attention back to the stove. She pushed herself off of the counter and went to go shut it off. As she poured the steeping hot water into her cup she heard heavy footfalls coming down the stairs, turning just in time to see Price walking into the room.

She gave him a smile before taking a sip of her tea, grimacing at the taste for not letting it steep. “You do know I just put the kids down for a nap, please don’t wake them up by your heavy walking.”

Price let out a snort as he walked over to her, leaning down to kiss her forehead. “I won’t wake them up love!”

“You say that now.” She chuckled. “No they’ll probably sleep fine, hopefully.” She moved to lean against the counter, sighing through her nose. “I think Emilia is getting sick.”

He poured himself a cup, setting it aside to let it steep. “Poor thing!” He leaned against the counter next to her, glancing over to see the absent look on her face. “Liz? Are you alright love?”

Hearing his voice snapped her back to reality, she shook her head, setting her cup down and looked up at him with a sheepish grin. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About that day?” He turned to her, grabbing both of her hands. “That was a long time ago, things have changed. You have changed.”

“Yeah.” She looked away from him, down at their hands and closed her eyes. “It was only four years ago.” She opened her eyes with a sigh, moving her head to look up at him with a small smile spreading across her face. “I have you to thank for that! I could still be that reckless girl or dead. You didn’t have to return to the base after you rescued me, yet you did and I don’t fully understand why.”

“Maybe there was just something about you that made me want you on my team.” He gave her a small smile before picking up his tea cup and sitting at the table.

Liz smiled to herself and shook her head. “Are you ever going to tell me John?” She grabbed her cup and sat down next to him. “We knew each other what, five hours tops before we went our separate ways? A few weeks later I get a call saying Captain Price wants to speak with me. I know there’s more to the story than you’re telling me.”

“Does it bother you that much?”

“No, just call me curious. I was so angry, so reckless back then, I didn’t have a care in the world. In a way I even wanted to die. Now I look at my life and it’s heaven compared to the other.” Price didn’t need to say anything, he just gave her a look that made her eyes glisten. She let out a shaky breath and sniffled. “Oh my god, I can’t believe I never figured it out before. You heard what he said, didn’t you? No wonder why you entered the infirmary seconds after he left. I just thought it was a coincidence.”

“I heard every single fucking word he said to you.”

“And you opened up everything for me because of it.” Her face softened and tears welled in her eyes, wiping them with the back of her hand. “I owe everything to you.”

“You owe me nothing Liz, I got you out because I wanted to, because you deserve a hell of a lot better.” He looked down at his hand, a small smile spreading across his face and he laughed. “I just never expected for us to be married and have a family. Funny how things can turn out.”

“It is.” She laughed. “When you offered me a spot on Bravo Team, I was just happy to be getting away from my family, a potential romance never crossed my mind. Everything happened so fast, one moment we’re kissing in the rain, the next we have a son together.”

“And now a daughter.” He gave her a cheeky smile before taking a sip of his tea. “And you’re my wife.”

“Oh yes, thank you John, I completely forgot about those two things.” She narrowed her eyes at him and shook her head. “How could I forget I was your wife and we have a daughter.”

“Cheeky.”

Liz chuckled. “You know what I meant.”

“I did, I just like teasing you.”

She smirked, a smile forming across her face. “I’m well aware of that, though I like the teasing in the bedroom more.”

“Do you now, love?” He leaned back in his chair, getting a better view of her. His eyes scanning up and down her torso as a small smirk spread across his face.

“Well duh, at least when you tease me there I know I get rewarded afterwards.” She leaned forward, slowly moving her fingers up his thigh. “When you tease me like you did just now, there’s no fun it.”

Price’s body went tense and he sighed through his nose, and before she could tell what happened he picked her up, throwing her over his shoulder and brought her into the living room where he tossed her gently on the couch. She barely had time to get comfortable before he was on top of her, crushing their lips together.

She softly moaned into the kiss, her right hand coming up to cup the side of his face, feeling the coarseness of his beard on her palm.

He moved his hand down to the button of her jeans, easily undoing it. His fingers pinched the metal tag of the zipper, about to pull it down until the baby monitor goes off with Emilia’s crying.

Liz chuckled into the kiss as his lips stopped moving in tandem with hers once he heard Emilia’s cries. He pulled away and got off her. “I’ll go get her.”

She buttoned her jeans again and stood up. “I’ll go with you, make sure Johnny didn’t wake up.”

He nodded his head and they both headed up the stairs. Price went into the nursery while Liz went to go quickly and quietly see if Johnny woke up, luckily he didn’t. As she made her way back into the nursery she saw Price gently bouncing Emilia up and down and rubbing up and down her back in hopes of calming her.

Liz couldn’t help but smile, Price wasn’t only an amazing and loving husband, but he was the best father their kids could ask for.

She walked over to them, rubbing up and down Emilia’s back. “What’s wrong with my princess?”

Emilia leaned towards her, arms reached out. Liz quickly took her into her own, where she gently swayed back and forth, softly humming a little lullaby. Instead of calming down, she cried a bit harder, sending a wave of panic and worry through Liz.

“John get the thermometer.”

He nodded and left the room. While he went to get the thermometer from the bathroom, Liz paced around the room, rubbing up and down her back.

“I wish you could tell me what’s wrong, I don’t like to see you this way.”

Price returned seconds later with the thermometer in hand, and with Emilia laying her head on Liz’s shoulder it made it a bit easier to take her temperature. He gave her a smile as he placed the tip in her ear, she squirmed away trying to push it out of her ear. Thankfully Price was quick and easily moved with her, long enough to get a good reading.

He looked down at it to read it, then looked over at her. “Her temperature is fine, must be something else.”

Liz let out a visible sigh of relief and exhaled a breath. “Thank god, I was expecting her to have a fever. I think she might have gas.” She handed her over to him with a smile on her face. “This is the job for the burp master.”

He let out a snort as he took Emilia from her. “Burp master?”

“What? Have you heard the burps you can get out of our kids?”

Price laughed and rolled his eyes as he started to pat Emilia’s back, hoping to the gas moving around. It wasn’t long until she started to calm down, her crying ceased and she rested her head on his shoulders. Liz walked over to them, wiping the remaining tears from her eyes.

“She hasn’t had gas this bad in a few months.”

“I know, I think I’m starting to wean her too early, if I nursed her before her nap instead of giving her her bottle she might not have had it to begin with.”

He looked down at her with worry, softly sighing through his nose. “This isn’t your fault love, this could’ve happened either way.”

“I know it’s just…”

“You’re not like him and you’re not going to turn out like him.” Liz looked up at him, face softening as she gazed into his blue eyes. “Parenting is hard, we’re going to make mistakes. The one thing that’s always been constant with you is your love, you chose to be a better parent, you chose to give our children a better upbringing than you had. Don’t beat yourself up from something that could’ve happened if you nursed her or not. You’re not a bad mum Liz, never will be.”

Before she could answer Emilia let out a burp making them both laugh.

Liz took a step forward, leaning up and giving Price a quick kiss. “Thank you!”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know!”

Emilia let out another few burps, lifting her head off his shoulders. She looked up at him with a big smile on her face that just melted Price’s heart. “Are you feeling better sweetheart?” She shook her head no, and then laughed. “No? Is it because I’m not your mama Emmy?” She let out a big sigh and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled to himself,resting his cheek on her head. “I love you Emmy!”

“And she loves her daddy!” She smiled up at him, rubbing up and down Emilia’s back. “Let’s head downstairs before we wake the other one.”

“Good idea.”

They headed downstairs where Price set Emilia on the floor near her toys before taking a seat on the couch next to Liz. They watched her in silence for a few moments, seeing the little ones mood change so quickly after those few burps.

Liz leaned back with a sigh, feeling his arm wrap around her shoulders. She angled her head to get a better look at him, but before she could speak, the all too familiar ring tone from Price’s work phone went off.

“Bollocks.” He got up with a groan and headed into the kitchen where it was.

She sat up straighter, looking over at Emilia playing on the floor and sighed. He just got home a few days ago and now he was getting called. There were days where she wished they could just be a normal family with no interruptions. Just them and the kids.

She could hear him from where she sat, arguing on the phone about not going, that he’d rather spend time with his family than go on another mission after just getting home.

Not long after he came back, clearly upset over what happened. He took his seat next to her, rubbing his temples. “I’m sorry love, I have another mission.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, they’ll debrief me when I get to base.”

Liz nodded her head and look back over at Emilia. “I should just come out of retirement, maybe we’ll be able to spend more time together.”

“Liz, no. You got out, don’t go back to something you don’t like because of me.”

She turned her head to look at him, eyes glistening. “It’s not just the kids who miss you, you know. You’ve barely been home for the past three months. If I have to go back out on the field to see my own husband than so be it.”

“You, Johnny, Emilia, are never far from my mind when I’m out there. I’m always thinking about you. I know it’s been tough these last few months, but I would rather have you here, with our children than out there in the field. I would die before I let anything happen to you.”

“Don’t you dare John.” Tears started to well in her eyes, and he wrapped her in his arms, bringing her head to his chest. “I need you. We need you.”

He held her nice and tight against him, taking in the warm scent of vanilla. “You have me Liz, you always will!”

As Liz held onto him tighter, he looked over at Emilia, who was in her own little world with her toys. He never saw marriage or kids in his future, just mission after mission after mission. Which he was fine with, he joined the British Army at sixteen for a reason and the SAS years later for another. But now that he is a husband and a father, maybe retirement is in his future all along.

#iask-things #liz x price #oc liz walker #john price #call of duty

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chinawof · 4 years

Text

Confessions - Self Para

@hemsworthitmate

She couldn’t help but think about it all day; the fact suddenly everything felt like it was out of her control, her life, her choices. It had been very overwhelming, so when she had gotten a chance that late afternoon to get a shower and lie in bed for a short while, she took it. The respite was welcome and the sleep came too easily to her exhausted mind.

China woke to the sound of rain and soft whimpers from Delta, who was clearly trying her best to not disturb her, but once again needed to go outside and badly. The poor pup. “Sorry, Delta, come on, I’m up now.” She moved and set her slippers on her feet before making quick haste downstairs to the back door.

It looked so grim and dreary out this time of night, but the flickers of lightning lit up the dew-dropped garden beautifully, and she had to smile as she made herself a warm cup of tea - decaf, she tried not to dwell on it, and settled on a chair near the door with it as Delta rushed outside to take care of her business.

She had grabbed a towel for when the pup ushered herself back inside, thankfully the tea was finished and discarded on the dining table, so she grabbed a towel from the dryer, and let Delta hop into her lap to be dried and snuggled a little more.

Chi didn’t know where Liam was, or what he was doing; maybe in his games room, or helping Chase with finding him and Amber a house, but she didn’t mind and was happy to give him his space, just as he was glad to give her her own. It was to her surprise that Dora came downstairs a moment later and walked out of the open door. Dora was always a lot more efficient than Delta. She took care of her business, walked to the porch, shook herself dry and headed back inside, barely wet at all, and China appreciated that. She even wondered for a moment when Delta may get to that point.

The pup in her lap had fallen asleep in the warmed towel, nuzzled close to China for comfort. When Dora was firmly back inside, China gave her a treat for being such a good girl, before the pup carried it upstairs with pride to, Chi presumed, find Liam.

She stood and closed the door, locking it tight, before she found her way into the living room, Delta firm in her hold. She wasn’t exactly tired yet, probably because she had just had a firm 6 hour sleep, so she turned on the TV quietly and put on a movie for herself to watch for now.

China didn’t realise Mulan was a bad choice of film, or that her increasingly pregnant body was hormonal enough to have her crying over the mention of ruined family honour. It hurt more, because she could feel it now; the judgement of her parents for what she had done and the situation she had gotten into.

She didn’t want to burden Liam with it, but she knew, if she was going to do this, she needed to have someone to talk to that she could trust and that wouldn’t tell her parents.

Her fingers easily found the number of her co-worker and set-sister, Nafessa. Chi pressing the call button and putting the phone to her ear as the movie played on, Delta still snoozing in her lap.

She hadn’t realised it must have been really early in Atlanta, where Nafessa was, until the phone rang a few times unanswered, and then a tired voice picked up her call.

“Chi?” She could hear Nafessa’s tired tone and instantly felt guilty.

“Oh my gosh, Feesa, I didn’t think, the timezone.” She went to apologise more, but her upset must have been thick in her tone along with the panicked apology, and suddenly Nafessa sounded a hell of a lot more awake.

“Hey, no, it’s okay. It’s after seven, I should be up anyway.”

China could hear the rustle of sheets, and the sound of what must have been Nafessa getting out of bed, then walking from her room.

“What’s going on, Chi?” She asked, and China realised she had called and then not said anything for a few moments.

She sniffled, “I’m so sorry.” There was another apology.

“It’s fine, I’m up.” Nafessa reassured her, “Why’re you upset? What happened?”

China took a moment, then took a deep breath and wiped beneath her eyes. She figured she needed to calm herself too, so she settled Delta on the sofa cushion still wrapped in the towel fast asleep, and headed to the kitchen to get a new cup of tea.

“Just overwhelmed, I think.” Chi answered as she dug in the cupboard for something soothing. She found some chamomile tea bags and didn’t bother herself to look if there was any caffeine content or any other risk. She just knew she needed to calm herself down before she was worked up again.

“Overwhelmed?” Nafessa asked, and China heard her pouring her own drink, presumably coffee; something she missed so much already and craved.

“Yeah.” Chi spoke softly. She poured in the hot water and settled it on the dining table to steep, opening the back door again to watch the rainfall, she settled on the wooden chair.

“You’re going to have to give me more than that.” Nafessa gave a slight chuckle that got a light smile from the 21-year-old.

She knew, at times, it was good to rip the bandaid off. China figured this was one of those times. “I’m pregnant.” She answered, softly and ashamedly.

There was a moment of silence. Chi wasn’t sure if maybe Nafessa hadn’t heard her words, or what, but she waited. Idly spinning the spoon in her mug as she did so.

“Come again?” Nafessa asked after a second. Chi realised she had definitely heard her now, “Pregnant?” The older female prompted when China didn’t answer.

“Mhm.”

“Wow.”

For a moment China figured Nafessa was holding off on lecturing her about birth control, something she had said to her back in October when Liam and herself first started dating. But Chi had been busy, and things had come at her one thing after the other... now it didn’t seem like it mattered at all.

“It’s definitely Liam’s?” She would have been offended by anyone else asking this, but from Nafessa there was such a flippant way of her talking, and a sisterly tone she needed, that it only elicited a soft, pity-filled laugh from China.

“Yes. There’s been no one else.” Never would be. She almost added onto the end, but it paled in comparison to anything else she was feeling right now.

“What’re you going to do?” There was another bit of gentleness to the tone, and China welcomed it entirely; she’d been craving this kind of motherly tone and finally she was getting it.

A small laugh left her lips, “Well, we’re keeping it,” She answered with ease.

“We’re?” She heard from Nafessa, and nodded before remembering she couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, we’re.”

“So he knows?”

“He does. We’ve done three tests and been to the doctors together now.”

Nafessa let out a small sigh, “That’s good.” She knew some men would have upped and left by this point, at least Liam hadn’t done that. “But how do you feel about it? You said you were overwhelmed? That’s not an ‘overjoyed and picking out nursery colours’ kind of feeling, Chi.”

Chi let out a small sigh, went to take a sip of the tea, but found her stomach recoiling at the very smell of it. She carefully pushed the mug away from herself. “It’s been a lot?”

“I’ll bet.” Nafessa didn’t even give a pause before answering. “Do your parents know?”

“No.”

“Does anyone else?”

Chi bit at her lip, “No, you’re the first person I’ve told. Other than Liam telling his family and his friend.”

There was a pause then. “So he’s told people?”

“Yeah.” She could hear Nafessa’s own sigh, and gave her a quick, “I said he could. It’s fine. I thought having someone know may give me someone to talk to... but I didn’t want to burden people.”

A scoff. “You’re in no way a burden!”

“I know you’d say that, Feesa. But everyone else has barely known me for 5 months.” She gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders.

“That shouldn’t-” Nafessa started and cut herself off. She knew China already could feel the rest of the ‘matter at all’ she had wanted to say. “How far along are you?”

“A couple of weeks give or take.”

Another pause.

“And what has Liam said?”

Chi gave a small smile, “He’s excited. Beyond excited. Can’t wait to tell people and talk to it and things.”

“But you’re not at that point?” China shook her head tenderly, and heard Nafessa’s sigh. Obviously knowing the pause meant no. “You know there’s no shame in not wanting this, China. It’s your body. He can’t pressure you into-”

China quickly cut her off, “No, I do. We... we feel ready. I feel like I want this. And God must know I’m ready or why else would he give this to us? I just-”

Another pause had Nafessa sighing once more, “You just?”

“It’s a lot.” Chi started.

Nafessa laughed, “Of course it is, honey, your whole life is about to change.”

“I know, and there’s things I just don’t know, and everything is changing around me... it’s been a lot.” There was tears in her eyes and her throat was tight, Nafessa worried there was a breakdown coming and she wasn’t there to help hold her and work her through it.

“Talk to me, Chi. Please.” Nafessa pleaded gently, “What’s been going on?” Nafessa had liked Liam when he came to set, appreciated the way he took things slowly and at China’s pace, but at the same time, she wasn’t his biggest fan right now. It sounded like a lot of this baby mess was Liam being excited and China’s feelings being pushed aside just for his excitement, and that was something she couldn’t stand to see, not to someone who was essentially her little sister.

“I...” Chi paused, stood and grabbed a glass filling it with water before she sat back down and took a careful and slow sip of the drink. “Everything is out of my control. My body... it’s changing and I don’t know what’s happening, I’m exhausted constantly, but I can’t sleep because I’m so worried of what my parents are going to think, things I used to love to eat are making me sick.” Regardless of the glass of water she took another sip from, her eyes watered up and her throat still tightened more. “I can’t have coffee, or cheese... I’ve got to eat differently... act differently... and I don’t even know what else he’s changed around me without me even knowing.”

The tears began to fall.

Nafessa’s heart clenched at the sound of China’s muffled cries, wanted nothing more than to comfort and hold her. “He’s changed? What do you mean?” She asked, once she had given China a moment to just let it all out.

“I know I don’t understand a lot, or know a lot... but he’s swapped the coffee and tea, and he changed the cheese, and I didn’t even know he had done it until after the fact.” She sniffled a little, “It feels like all of these choices are being taken away from me, and I don’t know why I can’t have these things, and he hasn’t explained or asked me.” China let herself have another moment, but was still met with more silence from Nafessa. She wished she knew what the other woman was thinking. “I just feel like I’m here... carrying this baby, and that’s it. That’s all I’m good for. That’s all I’m here for.”

It had been a couple of weeks, and already these things were happening. Nafessa wasn’t best pleased at all; knew if it was any other woman, these things wouldn’t have even happened yet. They wouldn’t have even known they were pregnant for another month or two, and here, Chi’s life was upside down.

“Chi...” Nafessa gave a soft sigh, “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” It wasn’t her thing to apologise for, though, and she knew that.

“I just feel like things would be easier if the baby wasn’t a thing.” She admitted, so quietly and ashamedly she made herself feel sick for just thinking it. “Which I know, I shouldn’t think. And I do want them. I want this baby more than anything.”

Nafessa understood wholeheartedly. “You just want to know what is happening, why, and make it a you choice, huh?”

China nodded. Nafessa could tell she was nodding.

“I get it, Chi. I do. It doesn’t help that you haven’t told anyone. You need support.”

Chi wanted to say that Liam supported her, and he had. There’d been crackers, and back rubs when she was getting sick, or glasses of water, and carries to bed when she needed them, but it also felt like a lot of this pregnancy was already Liam’s choices, and not her own.

“I’m here, Chi. I know we’re miles apart, but you call me. Day or night. You can talk to me. And I’ll help you through this until you feel ready to let someone else in, okay? If I have to call doctors and find answers for you, I will. I promise.”

Chi was glad the words were comforting enough, and she gave a gentle smile and a nod of her head. “Yeah?”

“Always. I’m right here for you. And for that little one, too. But first and foremost, for the next nine to ten months, I’m here for you.”

“Wait, nine to ten?!” Chi let out. Another stunned tone to something she didn’t know a thing about yet.

“We can talk about it tomorrow, okay? You need to de-stress. Go relax. Eat something you want to eat and get a little bit of sleep. Then you can call me when you’re awake and we can talk more, but I know it’s late for you, and you’ve had an emotional couple of days, I am sure.”

“Thank you.” China said after a moment.

“Not a problem at all. Call me if you need me.”

There was another moment before they said goodbye and China took Nafessa’s advice. It was around 1am by that point so she headed into the bathroom and ran a bath for herself with some soaks to help settle herself. For now, it was what she felt like she needed.

Nafessa had gotten Liam’s number from China a couple of months ago after her few set incidents and the scare with being followed everywhere; just in case something had happened. So it wasn’t a surprise, she found it easily and swiftly half an hour later and she called it without question or hesitation, because she knew he needed to be aware of this situation before it got out of hand.

Was it betraying Chi’s trust? A little.

Was she doing her honorary big-sisterly duty? Absolutely.

Nafessa wasn’t surprised when the phone went to voicemail. She gave a sigh as the tone beeped and then started.

“Hey, Liam. It’s Nafessa. Sorry for the late night call, but I’ve just had China on the phone a little upset, and wanted to talk about that with you, you can always call me back if you want to, but I just want to give you a heads up that I’m concerned for her. I know about the baby, and I know she wants it, and you do, too. But when I’ve got her in tears telling me it feels like she isn’t getting to make choices anymore, yeah, I’m going to be concerned. You can’t keep making those calls without involving her, Liam. Please, understand that. I’m not having a go at you at all for it, but she’s overwhelmed and scared, and I really don’t want her ending up resenting that baby because it feels like her whole life is changing without her being involved in those decisions.”

She gave a pause and a small chuckle, “You know she can have one cup of coffee a day, right? And she can have hard cheeses. Just not soft ones.”

There was another slight sigh. “Look, I get why you’re doing it, and I know you’re excited and want the best for that baby, but please remember... it may be both of your’s baby, but it’s China’s body and her lifestyle that’s going to change entirely, not yours. Maybe you should make a list of things you think need to change, talk it over with her, make realistic and understandable time frames and goals, talk about it with her doctor so you are both educated and aware of why it’s a thing, she just needs to be involved in those calls, and it doesn’t sound like she has been or at least she doesn’t feel like she has been.”

Nafessa gave another soft sigh, “I hope you know I’m just a little worried, but I know you two are going to make great parents, if any of this is anything to go by. You’re going to make a wonderful father, Liam. Congratulations.”

The voicemail ended there, and Nafessa knew China wouldn’t be best pleased about it, but Liam needed to know. Suddenly all she wanted to do was knock both of their heads together and make them both realise they were in this together, Chi’s problems and worries needed to be Liam’s now, too, and Liam’s decisions and calls had to be China’s as well.

Whatever happened, she made a note that she would talk to her sister and get China a little more information from a woman who had experienced it all before.

#(share my everything | mcclaimed.)#(McH: Australia 2020.)#(confessions: self para.)#(nafessa.)#(as soon as I saw you; I knew a grand adventure was about to happen | baby c.)

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post-itpenny · 5 years

Note

Bed Rest

More sleepwalking weirdness and Jelly being a good friend. Tagging @grotesquegabby since Billy and Ama are here.

The world shifted in a slow haze as Maggie walked. Home, grass, sky, sea. Hills and valleys morphing around her. Heading towards something, but what? Keep going, just keep looking.

Billy drifted into consciousness at first dimly aware that he would like a glass of water. Then aware one side of the bed felt cold.

Billy’s eyes shot open to see he was alone in bed, again. He sat up, looking around before spotting the bedroom door was open. Panic rushed through him as he leapt from bed and followed after Maggie’s scent.

This was the third time this week alone Maggie had a sleepwalking episode. As Billy had observed they happened without rhyme of reason, and they were odd. Sometimes she simply walked around, once she had taken to turning on every faucet in the house, in a particularly creepy episode Billy had awoken to find her standing in the middle of the room staring at him with her mouth wide open.

Maggie had a surprising amount of teeth.

Maggie found herself sick for something, a particular ache that came from deep down within her. It made her cry with a need for something, to be somewhere.

The world shifted.

“Personally I would not advise this method of travel until you’ve actually had some proper practice.” Came a muffled voice from behind her. Maggie did not hear however, her fingers digging into the dirt as she climbed a particularly steep hill.

The voice of whoever was behind her sighed in a bored manner, “you’re stuck again. Either be dreaming or traveling you must pick one or this insanity will continue.”

Maggie made it to the top of the hill, memories of sweet air and soft grass sifted through her. Fleeting sensations. But it filled the ache just a little.

“This place is familiar to the human half yes?” The voice questioned, “are you homesick? Is this why you chose to come here?”

Maggie breathed deeply but still was not satisfied, there was something missing.”

“Your fiancé is looking for you by the way,” commented the voice.

Maggie sat down in the grass, what she was looking for was long gone, she felt this.

Bridgette sighed and came to sit down in front of Maggie, assessing how aware the girl was of her presence before deciding Maggie had no idea she was there.

Bridgette took off her blindfold.

A jagged crack stretched across her face, carrying within it a void. Within the void something blinked, and darkness spilled forth, engulfing the world around them.

Maggie did not notice this.

Bridgette’s many eyes slipped back and forth in her observation of the timelines, before coming back to this single moment with her descendent.

“You’re not ready, progressing yes. Opening up at long last but not ready.”

Billy followed the scent of earth, moss, and flowers through the halls of his home, thankful that at least it seemed she had not wandered outside this time. Maggie was found sitting in the floor of the ballroom, crying.

Billy bit his lip as he slowly helped Maggie to her feet and began to guide her back to bed.

Bridgette stood up and began to circle Maggie, “looking for answers this way is clever I’ll give you that. But you can’t be stuck like this and expect results. Your subconscious is dragging you around which will do no good. Try to remember this when you wake up.”

Bridgette pauses, as if remembering something else.

“Also if you’re insistent on marrying that beast then show some sympathy and tie yourself down if you must.”

Maggie woke up just as Billy was gently pushing her back into bed. In her sleep haze Maggie panicked and began to scream, which made Billy panic and scream.

It took a moment for the two to calm down and realize what had happened, which lead to them sitting in the kitchen over a cup of tea at 3am and a very long discussion about things.

“So what's it like?”

Maggie shrugged, “I mean I don’t even know I’m doing it so I don’t know. Billy said my eyes are open though and that’s creepy.”

The next afternoon a very tired Maggie sat at a cafe with Jelly. The two having some much needed girl time.

Jelly frowned, “you haven’t gotten hurt have you?”

Maggie shrugged, “um, no I don’t think so. I’ve walked outside a few times but I don’t get far. Mostly I just walk around or do stupid stuff like turn all the taps on or once at Magpie’s house she caught me sticking everyone’s shoes in the freezer.

Jelly choked a little on her lemonade before laughing. “You put people’s shoes in the freezer? It’s almost like you’re playing jokes on people in your sleep. That does sound very much like you.”

“Yeah but last night Billy found me crying.”

“Crying? Were you having a nightmare?”

Maggie thought to herself for a moment, swirling a spoon around her cooling teacup.

Finally she had an answer, “I was dreaming about home. Both halfs came from the same area. I was dreaming about the fields.”

“Fields?”

“Yeah, yeah it’s like. The grass is super soft and there aren’t that many insects so you can just lay down and take a nap with nothing to bite you. And out in the countryside the air kinda smells sweet because of all the flowers in the spring and summer. It rains a lot but I never mined that because when it was sunny it was perfect. So you have these rolling fields that look like a giant green sea only there are stone fences breaking it all up.

“That does sound nice.”

“I miss it sometimes.”

“Then why not go? Take a vacation,” Jelly suggested. “It might be good for Billy and Ama to get out someplace new.”

Maggie sighed, “but it’s not the same. It won’t be like I remember, and the people will be long gone.”

Jelly patted her friend’s arm in concern, “You’re talking about Ireland yes? Maggie when was the last time you went to your home country?”

“...... once I left I never went back actually.”

“Why?”

Maggie shook her head. “That’s not the point, what is the point is that after I woke up Billy and I talked and came up with a plan.”

Jelly took a long sip of lemonade, eyeing her friend. “What’s the plan?”

“Well when I woke up I had this epiphany. It was almost like something was hinting at me in my sleep. I’m looking for something.”

“Looking for what?”

“Um, well here’s what’s been happening. I’ve still been speaking with Bridgette-“

“The nosey old woman.”

“Yes that one. It’s nice to have someone to help teach me how to navigate all this future sight stuff but she is annoying.”

“Do you need a teacher?”

“Well I had to teach myself a lot of it so it’s nice to have someone help me perfect it. But anyways she has me looking for the solution to a problem-“

Jelly huffed, “if she’s so good then why doesn’t she figure it out herself?”

Maggie frowned, trying to find the right words, “it’s like- like a blind spot. Like how I can’t see my own future, she can’t see this problem but knows it exists. I can see the problem so I need to find the solution, and with this and everything else that’s been happening I think I just got so stressed out maybe that’s why I’m sleepwalking.”

Jelly frowned, “Maggie I’m not sure, it seems a little odd don’t you think? To just suddenly start sleepwalking?”

Maggie shook her head, “I used to as a kid living with Magpie. But it kinda just stopped on its own after a while. But anyways tonight Billy is just going to let me wander around and make sure I don’t do something stupid.”

“But why? What if you get hurt?”

“Because I’m going to try to focus on finding a solution to the problem!” Maggie shouted in excitement.

Jelly shook her head, “Maggie this makes no sense at all. You should be trying to stop sleepwalking not encouraging it.”

Maggie finished her tea and stood up, “I know this is weird and yes I’m not saying everything. But this is important, really important. Once it’s done, I promise I’ll sit down and explain everything to you and Billy and whoever else I need to. Please just trust me on this.”

That night Billy walked the manor with a cup of coffee in hand. It was still too quiet and empty, he had not hired new servants yet. Just one thing on the very long list of things he felt he had to attend to. Billy checked on Amaranthus for the third time before heading to the master bedroom to find the door already open. At least it had started earlier than last night.

He found Maggie just down the hallway, it was almost funny to watch when he wasn’t panicking over what to do. Maggie stumbled around like a drunk, eyes open but unfocused. At one point she nearly ran into a wall and he decided it was high time to start recording this for posterity.

And a good chuckle when he was bored at work.

Maggie walked through shifting colors and exotic plants. She was looking for something, yet none of this seemed right. Why? What was wrong? Maggie looked down at her hands, written in ink were the words “find a solution.”

Oh that’s right.

She felt a sharp tug backwards, the feeling slammed into something, her body?

Maggie was walking down the hallway of the manor. It was an odd sensation, her body numb and acting of its own accord. She walked downstairs to the kitchen, the vague feeling of panic and the knowledge that she could trip flitted into her mind but passed just as quickly. She passed by a large mirror and spayed Billy walking close behind her, was his phone out? Again small bits of emotion were registered. Annoyance, embarrassment, amusement. All gone as quickly as they came.

Maggie observed herself entering the kitchen and attempting to make a sandwich, only all she was really doing was rolling a jar of peanut butter around on a slice of bread.

Maggie could see Billy quietly laughing at her but heard nothing. As she walked out of the kitchen Maggie again felt a glint of annoyance but this time directed at herself. None of this was productive plus she looked ridiculous.

At this her body seemed to shift, no longer stumbling around but walking with purpose. Back up the stairs and to Amaranthus’ room.

The little clown was asleep and surrounded by many stuffed animals. She was frowning however and hugging Mune tightly.

Maggie reached out to smooth Ama’s hair, aware she could feel its softness and hear the sounds of her breathing.

There was a tug forward and Maggie’s vision shifted again. The world was dark and she could hear screaming. Amaranthus being chased by what could only be described as a giant bee monster. Maggie shuddered, poor thing was far from getting over what had happened. It made Maggie think of all the times Ryder had messed with her nightmares, and she wondered…

Maggie ran to catch up with Amaranthus, reaching out to touch her shoulder. The world shifted, they were at a circus. Maggie looked around at the performers and the audience, people wore strange outfits hairstyles. Maggie herself was aware of having a small set of wings and a tie. But Ama seems more at ease now. Pointing and laughing at the trapeze artist above them.

“Much better, now keep practicing. Then try when you’re actually awake.”

Maggie looked behind her, but saw no one. She let go of Amaranthus’ shoulder-

And woke up.

Maggie was on the floor of Amaranthus’ bedroom, Billy standing over her with a look of confusion.

“Did you do that?” He asked, pointing at the bed.

Maggie sat up and looked, Amaranthus was snuggled up in bed, a smile on her face as she hugged Mune tightly.

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lucy-sky · 5 years

Text

Cats, Roofs and Stolen Kisses (Pero Maholovic x Reader)

Dear @silvusha!!! I’m wishing you the happiest Birthday!!! I’m a shitty friend who learnt about it too late to send any cards, but hope you enjoy this drabble.

You requested prompt “wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me.” from this list with Pero Maholovic (Welcome to Collinwood, 2002).

I must say, the story kinda developed a life of itself and turned out a bit longer than I expected. Hope it’s okay though. (Sorry for any possible mistakes, I’m writing it at work... I will maybe reread and correct it later tonight)

No warnings, just pure fluff and a bit of making out :) Art by me (picture #4 was made by me in St. Petersburg)

It was a lovely morning. A little chilly, but for some reason you could already feel some spring vibes as you looked at the rays of sunshine through the opened window. Smiling, you sat on the windowsill, dangling your feet and letting them slightly touch the roof. What you loved the most about this flat is that you had an easy access to the rooftop. Just one step out of your window - and here you go. Although the landlord warned you not to do this - the roof was quite uneven and rather slippery. But you couldn’t resist. You just didn’t approach the steep edges. Nothing was better than sitting like that on the rooftop with a warm mug of tea or coffee enjoying a peaceful morning.

But you were not the only person with the access to the roof through your window. There was one more lucky guy, and his sleepy head with messy hair, a pair of curious green eyes and a cigarette in his mouth just leaned out of the window to the left of yours.

- Uhhh…- he muttered, before spotting you. - Oh hey! Morning, sunshine! - He took a drag of his cigarette and gave you a wide grin.

- Morning, Pero, - you replied with a sigh. Actually you found your neighbor quite cute, just a little bit annoying at times.

- Isn’t it romantic to meet sunrise together on a rooftop on this day? - Pero smirked.

- Ew, that’s the cheesiest thing I’ve ever heard!

It seemed like he wanted to say something in reply, but his face suddenly frowned a bit.

- Wait, isn’t that… your cat?.. - he asked, pointing on your right.

***

Since your first week on a new place, your cat named Sam started to develop a weird love-hate relationship with Pero. He hissed at him and could easily scrape or bite him, but nevertheless he adored sneaking into Pero’s flat. One of these days you were busy unpacking all your stuff when you heard someone knocking on your door. You opened to see Pero with your cat under his arm.

- Oh gosh, where did you find him? - You were really surprised. - Come here, Sam.

- Sam? That’s a weird name for a cat… - Pero handed the cat to you and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. - This fluffy bastard actually got into my flat through the window…

- Well… guess he’s just exploring the territory, - you shrugged. - And by the way, he's not a bastard! Thanks so much for bringing him back though.

- Maybe… Maybe I deserved a little kiss for that, huh? - He smiled at you mischievously and you rolled your eyes.

- No way. I’ve heard the rumors that you’re mixed up in some criminal stuff, Pero Maholovic, - you said, narrowing your eyes.

- Me?! - Pero raised his eyebrows as if he was shocked. - Oh come on! Just look at me, I’m pure as an angel! Can’t you see it in my honest eyes?

He gave you his most innocent look and you burst out laughing.

- Not really. But try again and I might think about your suggestion, - you teased.

- Oh I will, - Pero replied with a wink. - Be sure of that.

You actually liked this little flirty game you two were playing. He was charming after all and you secretly enjoyed his advances. Sam still wasn’t very excited about him, clearly thinking he has more rights on Pero’s flat than its actual owner, so most of their interactions ended up with the scrapes on Pero’s hands and a couple of swear words muttered in Serbian.

***

You turned your head to where Pero pointed and gasped. Sam has walking along the very edge of the roof. Then he sat down and started to lick his fur.

- Oh hell, Pero! What if he falls down?

- Hey, don’t worry... He’s a cat after all... Cats walk on the roof and all is fine...

- I still have to get him out of there, - you said firmly, getting out of the window.

- Come here, Sammy... - You called out quietly, making a couple of careful steps towards the cat. Damn, the roof was really steep!.. You were never afraid of heights before but right now you didn’t feel comfortable at all.

- Wait.

Pero’s hand lay on your shoulder.

- It’s dangerous, you know! Stay there, I’ll get him, okay?

- Okay, - you nodded. - Thanks.

Reaching the edge of the roof, Pero started walking carefully, trying to poise and not to stumble.

- Here, kitty kitty... C’mere you fluffy bastard... - He muttered, reaching his hands to the cat.

- Gotcha! - He finally managed to grab Sam in his arms, but the next moment the cat, who totally wasn’t happy about the fact his morning walk was so brutally interrupted, hissed and his paw hit Pero’s face, leaving a scrape on his cheek.

- Ah! - Pero winced, his foot slipped, and... he fell.

- Pero!!! - You screamed in horror, rushing towards the place where he just stood, already expecting to see a bloodbath, but...

- I’m okay!.. I’m okay...

Carefully you glanced over the edge of the roof. Pero looked up at you from your downstairs neighbor’s balcony. He was still holding the terrified cat against his chest. You thought you’ve never been that relieved in your entire life.

- Oh God, I almost got a heart attack - you breathed out.

- Hey, what the hell’s going on here?? - You heard an angry voice from the downstairs flat. - What the fuck are you doing on my balcony, Maholovic?!

- Sorry! - Pero shouted back. - It’s um... Cat-rescuing business here!..

***

A half an hour later Pero was standing in your kitchen in front of you, as you carefully pressed a cotton tampon with sanitizer to the scrape on his cheek.

- Aahh! - Pero winced again. - You know what, y/n? Now I think I totally deserved a kiss! I mean I could die after all!

- Stay still please, - you placed your hand on his other cheek, making him turn his head slightly so that you could examine the wound. - Does it hurt?

- Yep.

Drawing your face closer to his you gently blew on his scrape as your fingers brushed softly against his other cheek.

- Better?

What happened next was really fast. Just one second and your lips were suddenly captured by his. You let out a squeak as you really didn’t expect such a turn of events. Your first intention was to push him away, but something just didn’t let you do it. Probably the softness of his lips in contrast with his sudden boldness. You felt his hands on your waist pulling you a little bit closer and instead of slapping or pushing him your hand betrayed you, fingers sliding to the side of his neck caressing his skin. Pero hummed contently into your mouth and you shivered at the sensation of his warm tongue parting your lips. You surrendered, allowing him deepen the kiss. Your cheeks flushed as the tips of your tongues touched, causing a sweet vibe running through you. Melting into these sensations you let your fingers gently scratch the nape of his neck and he made a purring sound as your lips parted just to meet again.

Your brain started working again only when you realized his hands went a bit too far down from your waist to your buttcheeks, so you finally pushed him away softly.

- Hey... easy... - you mumbled, your face still so close to his your noses slightly touched.

- Wait, no, don’t take kissing away from me! - He protested in a pleading tone. - I’m in pain and need my cure!..

- You’re way too dramatic, - you smirked, but still left one last chaste kiss on his upper lip. - Here. I think you’ll survive.

- Fine, I’m better anyways, - he winked. Mischievous sparkles played in his bright green eyes as he smiled at you.

- Hey, fluffball, - Pero nodded at Sam who watched you from the windowsill. - Thanks for helping me steal this kiss, man!

- Oh god, that was an evil plot! - You laughed. - And I thought you guys didn’t like each other...

- He’s not that bad. Maybe just a bit jealous, - Pero chuckled. - So... See ya around, I guess?

- Wait, Pero.

He gave you a questioned look.

- You know, it’s my Birthday today. I’m planning to go to the pub tonight, meeting a couple of old friends... It’s not even a party, we’re just gonna have a drink or two, you know. And... I’d really love you to join us.

Your cheeks blushed a little as you said it.

- Me? - Pero’s expression was suddenly surprised and shy, not a trace of his usual cheeky look. - But I... Don’t even have a decent present for you...

- Oh that’s fine! - You assured. - I realize this is a very spontaneous invitation. So, will you come?

- Sure, - he nodded with a warm smile. - I’m in.

***

You and Pero arrived back home after midnight. It was a nice evening in a warm company and you were very pleased. Pero seemed to get along with your friends as well, so there were no awkward moments.

- Hey, um... - Pero said as you reached your flat. - I didn’t know about your Birthday, but I got you a little something for Valentine’s Day... Cheesy, but I think you’re gonna love it. Here, - the handed you an envelope.

- Oh. Thanks, - you smiled. - Good night, Pero.

He cupped your cheek and you raised on your tiptoes to kiss his lips.

- Good night. Happy Birthday.

At your place you turned on the light, took off your boots and coat, sat on the sofa with your legs crossed and opened the envelope. You looked at the card and grinned stupidly. There were two cats sitting on a rooftop. Probably the most perfect card you’ve ever received.

***

Thank you for reading! It was fun to write :)

#welcome to collinwood #sam rockwell #pero maholovic #pero maholovic x reader #drabble #requests #fanfiction #fluff #lucy tries to write

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the-roanoke-society · 5 years

Text

homecoming.

alternatively titled: there and back again, a charlie tale.

the incredibly late follow-up to parts unkown, featuring @agent-nova, charlie hesketh, technical officers wyvern and drake, and team e key.

there are depictions of injury, gore and some horror elements under the cut. proceed with caution.

i am still very sorry.

weeks went by at the roanoke estate. october turned to november. to december.

the house was still decorated, of course. but lilith had done her best, with the white lady’s help, to ensure that the lights were extra soft, glowing as gently as an embrace. “their eyes may hurt when you bring them back. we want the landing to go as easily as we can, yes? fortune favors the prepared.” lilith had spoken with such certainty. nova and wyvern clung to it with a white knuckle grip.

she didn’t sleep much, didn’t eat much. wyvern wasn’t much better off. they hardly came out of the basement office set aside for the chunk of the traceback formula development—their usual company was just each other, cups of coffee gone cold, and tea… but those were usually merlin’s.

lillith had been the one to make that phone call. merlin had dropped absolutely everything, hadn’t even asked arthur for approval. he’d just left. harry had gone with him, for his sake, sure, but also for rae. the necromancer wasn’t taking this well.

not many were.

there weren’t any protocols in place for this. “this is the fucking protocol!” wyvern had screamed at longma, in that first formal meeting after the incident; his temper had definitely gotten the better of him in this entire ordeal. “and now we’re just shooting in the dark, hoping that we can find anything, anything, to trace, to give us even half a clue as to which one of these hellholes you and drake so thoughtfully sent them to!”

“jeremy—that’s enough.”

merlin was beyond exhausted.

he didn’t know how much time he’d spent just standing in the middle of his girlfriend’s quarters—going over old journals, old case files, anything he could find. he reasoned that maybe there was a hint, something from the past he could grab and yank to the present to help them. hours? days? time had never seemed so disjointed. stock-still and fleeting all at once.

and a darker part of his mind conceded: you are afraid you will not find her. and you are trying desperately to find a way to keep her close. you will never get to apologize to charlie. it will die with you. and that’s something she might’ve found unforgivable in another life, right? the withholding of mercy?

he shook his head. brought himself back to the basement office with drake, longma, wyvern—and nova, who was leaning up against one edge of the whiteboard with her arms over her chest.

it was covered in formulas. equations. numbers, number, numbers.

it was right in front of their faces. it had to be, he reasoned. and this—this was something he could actually help with. he’d be damned if failure would catch him now, when the price of it was this steep and shaped like someone that he loved, that he wanted to m—

no. not yet. if he could find her, then maybe…

despite winter falling down over the estate grounds, it was warm downstairs. he had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. “look. let’s jus’—let’s jus’ talk this through again. y’ said that the traceback signal functioned as a receiver. correct?”

nova shifted on her feet, lifting a hand to her face. back to square one. she didn’t want them to see her expression crumple—but drake caught it, and felt sick.

wyvern heaved a sigh, his hands going to his hair. merlin swallowed and quickly went back to staring at the board.

don’t think about how she did that too. don’t think about it. focus. focus.

“yes. the traceback, it’s—it’s meant to pick up on device signals. we trace a path, boom, whip ‘em back to this timeline. hence traceback.”

merlin hummed, rubbing his scalp.

“okay—okay.” he picked up an eraser, clearing the board again. “let’s just try it again from the start. one more time. maybe there’s somethin’ we missed, like—passin’ a hallway in an old house…”

the initial panic had faded by then, out of necessity.

there’d been a few evenings where they each, in turn, had tried to solve the entire problem as quickly as possible. but the more they tried to fight against it, against time, the more frustrated they got, and it had ended in tears. for nova, most of all. and for merlin, just once: his first night in the states when he’d gone down into this exact office because he couldn’t stand to go to her room and find it silent, and empty.

and it’d been merlin who’d sat both of them down, one particularly raw night—pretending that they were recruits, that he was back home—and told them that trying to do this rushed wouldn’t move them forward. not the way they needed to move.

nova had buried her face in her hands. “do y’ understand, ellie?” she nodded, but didn’t speak.

wyvern and merlin encased her in their arms from either side.

he didn’t remember how long they stayed like that. but after they separated—that is when the work began. night after night of mathematics, theorems, conjectures. all dead ends.

but no one so much as uttered the phrase ‘give up.’ no one would.

* * *

“… wait.”

charlie didn’t quite have enough time to throw himself into a full panic. seraphim’s tone made him pause, and he watched her slowly get to her feet, staring at the skyborne city. “… i know that tower.”

“you recognize the city?”

seraphim squinted. “i—yeah. i think i do.” a head tilt. “… holy shit. holy fucking shit.” was there a smile in her voice?

it was charlie’s turn to struggle to a stand. his arm burned, and seraphim reached out a hand behind her to help him up. “why do you sound like this is a good thing?”

“it’s not, but i’m choosing to believe there’s no way it couldn’t help. c’mere, look—“ she stood right at charlie’s shoulder and pointed to the center, spiraling tower. “see that? that’s a part of a castle in an underworld capital city, korssrun. guess who was with me the last time i went there?”

“who?”

“ellie.”

and seraphim told him about the first time that she’d ever used the gate alongside the woman who was growing into a shape best described as ‘the love of his life.’ she could have cried at the wonder in his eyes, how the alarm melted from his expression even when she was talking about krueger, who for all intents and purposes was the exact opposite of a relaxing entity.

but it helped. it gave them a reference point, even if it was a little vague, and… possibly not a reference point at all.

“all right. so this is like… some weird inverted version of that universe. allllll right-y. all right, all right, all right…” seraphim took a few steps backwards and rubbed her hands on her face. think, think, think. “we just have to come up with a plan…”

“do you think they’re looking for us?” charlie winced, shifting on his feet. his gaze fell to the ground, slowly rolling back to the dark spots that marked where they’d landed against the rock.

“of course i do.” her answer was quick, firm. “if i know ellie like i think i do, she’s not going to sleep until she can find a way to bring us back. … or at least you.” that last bit was said quieter.

before charlie could open his mouth to ask her anything else, she gasped, “oh! oh that’s it! i mean—not like, it-it, but it’s a—“

“morgan!” he didn’t want her to know how bad he was feeling. but it leeched into his voice anyway. pain. every breath he drew was like a small layer of stone, gravel settling on the bottom of his chest. hot, suffocating. his skin was tingling. “please. just. slow down. what are you talking about?”

“i think—since they are looking for us—“ seraphim nodded with emphasis, confidence, but her voice trailed as if she was in the middle of a thought. “—it might be helpful if we found the…” she frowned, made a gesture with her hand. “… i don’t know, the landing point.”

“landing point?”

“i mean like the corresponding point where ellie and i met ground when we first came here. all the entry points for all the gates are pretty consistent in terms of the physical location where you hit.” her eyes went back upward. she stared at the tower. “this… this place isn’t mapped. i’m not going to pretend that this is a good idea, but it is an idea.”

charlie pressed his palms into his eyelids, exhaling, inhaling. “so. you think that if they try to get us back. the signal will come from there? be close to there?”

seraphim rolled her shoulders. she felt an itch as a bead of sweat rolled down her back and she hastily reached for her hair, snapping it up into a messy ponytail. the one time she remembered to keep a hair tie around her wrist. “yes. there’s no reason to think so, but there’s also no reason to not think so, and i’d rather throw my money in with what we can infer based on what we already know.”

charlie snorted.

“what?”

“nothing, you just—remind me of someone.”

“yeah? well you can tell me all about them on the walk over. c’mon.”

he frowned, but his steps after her were unwavering. “you know the way? how?”

seraphim glanced over her shoulder, smiling. she—looked tired. her skin shone in the muted light. charlie wondered if he, too, looked like some strange gemstone. but sweating only helps if it can cool you down… he tried to not think about it too much. a sharp wave of burning bit into his socket, a perfect circle of pain around the metal.

he tried not to focus too much on that, either.

“it’s just like wayfaring. that’s our north star. trust me, i know where we’re going.”

“whatever you say, maui.” it hurt to laugh but he did anyway.

“oh, i can see what’s happening here… you’re face to face with greatness, and it’s strange—“

“okay, you know what, i brought this upon myself, i can’t be upset—“

* *

and so they walked. and walked, and walked.

charlie was unnerved at the quiet. like they were the only things alive. the only sounds he heard were their voices, their steps, and the soft, round echoes that sounded after them among the stones. and it all looked the same, even as he would turn in slow circles as they went, trying to see as much as he could.

granted, there were the mountains. but the rocks were all the same color. they were all the same smooth-shaped like they’d been fished out of the bottom of the river. it rolled out around them until it dissipated in the white light that lit up the narrow horizon line.

and over them—well. the dark mass of… what had seraphim called it? krossrun? no, korssrun. what a strange name for a city, and—

he coughed. nothing but heat down his throat, into his chest.

it was getting harder to breathe. bit by bit.

was… was that static?

seraphim had a hand up immediately, placing it on charlie’s chest to stop him. at first, she hadn’t looked at him, trying to desperately figure out why it suddenly sounded like someone’s old tv was suddenly out somewhere ahead of them, stuck on a channel that didn’t work with the volume turned up to max volume, but then: “charlie? jesus, your arm—!”

he’d been slightly behind her, letting her lead way. at least, that’s he hoped it looked like. he didn’t want her to realize…

the blood had spread. a layer of red seeped from the edge of his sleeve upwards towards his collar, and down his side.

“it’s fine, it’s okay, it’s—“ charlie couldn’t stop her, and how she moved closer to him so swiftly to carefully tug at his shirt reminded him so much of nova that suddenly his eyes were stinging and he had to glance sharply to the skyline.

“this is not! fine!” her voice came out hoarse and halting, going up a pitch in panic. shit. shit this was not good. “this! is! the opposite of fine! charles douglas hesketh!”

“that’s not my—!” but he had to stop abruptly, swallowing a genuine scream when seraphim’s fingers got too close to his skin.

“fuck, sorry, sorry—aw man… charlie…”

seraphim was a bit of a loss for words. they hadn’t stopped moving, not since they landed. she didn’t think either of them could. the idea of staying put, waiting on something or someone else to come for them without doing anything at all? absolutely fucking not. nope. not today.

but because they hadn’t rested…

well.

the tears around his arm socket, okay, they could be because he’d been moving. but these other marks, these blisters, those weren’t from movement.

“it’s burning you.”

“mm?”

“charlie.” he’d never heard someone’s tone change so much in such a short amount of time. but when seraphim looked up to his eyes, he had a hard time looking back at her. it was unnerving, watching the color drain from her face, yet not enough to take away the flush that went across her cheeks. “charlie, your arm socket is—it’s the metal. it’s been heating up the entire time, hasn’t it? that’s its reaction? flesh does, flesh does this, right, and your arm, it’s, it’s not flesh so it…” she uselessly gestured to his arm.

she wasn’t wrong.

he had felt it. been feeling it, been carrying it.

and had a new appreciation for that old story about the frogs who were very slowly boiled alive.

but of course he wasn’t going to say anything. what was there for it? he’d seen no water, or even evidence of water, or clouds, or shade, since they’d landed, and—the static grew louder. they both froze, looking ahead, waiting. there were quiet, agonizing whirs as both of charlie’s hands clenched into fists.

and charlie had thought to himself, i might need to keep it on me. best to go like everything’s all right.

nothing about their view changed. just that background noise—foreground noise, charlie supposed. it wasn’t something that was surrounding them—but it did sound wide.

“stay close to me,” seraphim said softly. there were tremors on the edge of her voice. “i don’t really want to waste time trying to go around whatever’s out there, especially when we might not even be able to.”

“do we have to go this way, morgan?”

seraphim pursed her lips together and nodded. “every time you look at me i can see the lack of trust in your eyes but i promise you this is the right way. i just need you to keep a kind of faith for a little bit longer. okay?”

charlie stared at her.

he tried to make her eyes turn into ellie’s, but the hazel, the browns, the greens—they were too different.

and it was only the idea of seeing them again that kept him upright, that distracted him enough to get his mind off of his arm socket, his thirst, the sweat that kept dripping down over his eyelids.

“show the way, fearless leader.”

seraphim snorted, reflexively. “yeah, leader. right. pretty sure good leaders wouldn’t let their colleagues get into the barrel of fun this has turned out to be.”

charlie did as he was asked, keeping pace right at her shoulder as they carefully picked their way over the smooth stone. always watching. listening. waiting. “it’s not like it was your fault.” their voices fell to hushed tones. “you rushed in to make sure drake was okay. i’m not sure he would’ve had the same reaction to getting snapped up somewhere like this.”

“and annabelle…” seraphim sighed. charlie couldn’t quite tell what emotion it carried. maybe there were too many. “she would’ve been heartbroken. it’s—is it better, then? that it was us?” for a moment, she stopped walking, frowning and gazing at the ground. but then she shook her head, blinking. “let’s maybe save the philosophical conversations for af—“

she didn’t finish.

they rounded a corner between two particularly large boulders, where a dirt path ran between them. it almost could’ve been a hiking trail, charlie decided, as he studied the ground. was it even dirt? who knew? but it was packed like dirt, packed like someone—something?—had walked over it numerous times, over and over and over again.

but he didn’t see any turns. just the impressions of something shaped vaguely like the foot of another human being. made by—

ellie?

charlie felt his voice rise up in his throat, but before he could speak, seraphim grabbed his arm, pulling him backwards roughly.

“m—“

“sh!” her hush was violent. she’d gone a sickly pale and he felt her hand trembling by his elbow.

seraphim very carefully leaned, looking past him. lifting a finger to her lips, she edged forward a few steps. charlie gazed over the top of her head around the stone.

it… it looked like ellie.

the static was louder than ever. it was like the hum he felt when he was underwater, the surface of the sea off the english coast a fractured glass ceiling over him.

she was facing away from him, and… and…

he blinked, shaking his head. it hurt to watch. he couldn’t make sense of it.

it was shaped like her, sure, but she wasn’t—solid. not transparent, not exactly, but more like her edges weren’t quite there. like parts of her were erratically blipping in and out of view.

“what—“ he couldn’t get the rest of the words out. he felt seraphim’s hand on his bicep, her grip trembling but firm. he swallowed. it was like a weight had settled beneath his lungs, and the longer he looked at the back of that stranger’s head, the heavier it got.

he wanted to go up to her. he wanted to run his fingers through her hair. he knew it wasn’t her. but if he could just feel her one more time, or something like her, one last time... because would they even ever get out of here alive?

“… what is it?” he finally asked. his voice barely registered a whisper, and he tried to lean as close to seraphim’s ear as he could so the sound didn’t get lost in the static.

“not human.” her answer came low, and sad. she was staring at her too. “i’ve—i’ve never seen one this close before.” one? seraphim put one palm over her chest, and seemed to convulse, before inhaling. it sounded a bit like a rattle, on the edges. “i’m... surprised there’s one here. but if we’re quiet, and keep going, it—“ she choked back a harsh cough. “it won’t bother us.”

“why does it look like ellie?”

for a second, seraphim didn’t react. then she laughed, ruefully, once, tugging at his elbow to keep going forward. they pressed as close as they could to a line of jagged boulders that acted as an edge to—charlie supposed he couldn’t describe it as a shallow gulch. cliffs rose up around them, but they weren’t very high; there was a cleft in the stone right in front of them just wide enough for them to pass through.

“it looks like ellie to you?”

“yes. �� who do you see?”

seraphim didn’t turn, but she also didn’t let go of charlie. she kept her eyes up ahead of her even as she moved to pushed him forward, so she could guard him from behind. just in case.

and that was the only time she looked back.

it kept changing. both shapes were tall. one had a head of thick, black hair. longer than she remembered, but recognizable. the other had no hair at all.

she didn’t answer him until they were safely out on the other side of the path, where the cliff walls sloped down into a sandy valley. the more they walked, the softer that static grew. soon, it would disappear entirely, leaving only the familiar, heavy silence in its wake. “someone i miss. that’s its trick.”

the mountains were still in the distance, but this new clearing was basically featureless. it made charlie nervous. there was nowhere to hide. “and what—what was it, exactly?” the adrenaline had kicked in, now that it was safe. his hands were shaking, and his heart was in his throat. why was it so hard to breathe?

but as soon as it ebbed, the biting, burning pain in his arm socket came back with such a vengeance that he almost didn’t hear seraphim answer.

“something like a demon. but not quite.” her cheeks were rosy but the rest of her face was a blanched shade. she looked almost like a doll, and coughed again. “i’ll, uh… tell you all about it when we get out of here. we’re close now. this all looks—familiar.” her voice quieted at the end as she looked upward, gazing at the city. their unholy constellation that was helping them chart their course. “that’s why it’s there. it’s there for us. like some fucked up sign post. christ help us…”

seraphim shook her head, abruptly turning her back to charlie.

he was glad.

she didn’t want him to see her face crumple, and he didn’t want her to see how much pain he was in.

seraphim got it back together. it took her a second. but she thought about merlin, and imagined him, in his quartermaster tones, encouraging her.

she had to get back to him. she felt a curl in her heart, and here in this literal hellhole, she was willing to grasp it with both hands and a white-knuckle grip.

“okay—okay. what do you think, homie, have a mile or two left in you?” charlie swallowed, nodding. he’d never had cottonmouth this bad in his life, and he was trying to focus on literally anything to get his mind off his arm. he picked seraphim’s soft drawl. it seemed a bit more pronounced when she got emotional, he noticed. he wondered how many shades of her voice that only merlin had gotten the chance to hear.

and then he started thinking about how merlin and seraphim even ended up together at all, which led him right back to ellie, and she was the shape that kept the pain away as he followed seraphim’s steps.

they traveled in silence, for a while. it was a tired quiet, but not one that met them with their guards lowered completely.

seraphim was lost in her own puzzling. those entities appear for a reason. where are we? where the fuck could we have landed that would make something like that thing appear, like it was on purpose, like it was planned by someone, something else?

she didn’t have to even lift her eyes from the ground. she knew where they were going.

but charlie didn’t, and he tripped once, reaching out awkwardly to catch himself and almost landing on seraphim in the process.

his metal plan landed squarely on the stone, which meant his body weight bore down further on the machinery.

the pain was blinding, instantaneous and charlie couldn’t stop the retched, gagged and very loud swear word that came out of his mouth. seraphim jumped, startled. “jesus! charlie? charlie what’s wrong? did you twist something?”

he had to take deep, gulping breaths, but it was just like breathing in steam. there was no relief. “i’m—fine, i just—need a second—“

but seraphim, for all her flaws, wasn’t a complete moron. as charlie awkwardly sat back onto his knees, his hand went to his arm socket. not touching it. but close. her eyes followed to the scarlet-soaked material of his shirt.

oh, this is bad. this is very bad.

“you’ve lost a lot of blood.” she said quietly. she’d been wishing for merlin this entire time, thinking of all the times he’d bandaged her scrapes and bruises and true, maybe charlie would’ve preferred rougarou or cherub as medic, but… “and those burns are going from first to second degree. charlie, we need to take your arm off, we could be looking at permanent nerve damage if we don’t, and the weight’s tearing these wounds open more—“

“no!” he was started at how loud his own voice was. “… no.” he said it again, softer. “we aren’t alone out here. you don’t have virgil, neither of us is armed, except for this.” he winced as he lifted his metallic arm. “i need to keep it on me.”

seraphim leaned back on her heels for a second. two seconds. three. “… okay. sure. you know best. at least let me help you up.” she offered one hand that he gratefully took, pulling him back up to his feet.

but as soon as he was standing, seraphim gripped his arm with both hands, wrenched one direction, and pulled.

it snapped off with a piercing, metallic tang, and seraphim was screaming.

the relief by his shoulder was immediate but it was overshadowed by the sight of his own limb lying useless in the dirt and seraphim, stumbling backward until her back met rock, tears streaming down her face mingling with sweat. she had huge, burning welts over her palms. “shit. shit shit shit shit, fuck, fuck, jesus—“ a cascade of swears and cries for her god.

“why did you do that.” he couldn’t tear his eyes off of the machinery. “why did you do that?!” no matter how that steel had burned him, his anger was much, much hotter.

seraphim was choking out sobs. it sounded like she was suffocating. “ellie isn’t here to take care of you, so i have to.”

he stood, silently, staring at her. seraphim sniffed, wiping at her face with the back of her hand. “ellie isn’t here to love you, and you don’t love you, so i am going to, because i’m here and it is just us, charlie. it’s just us. i know this sucks, i know it’s scary, i know that you don’t know me that well and you’re freaking out that i’m the one that you’re stuck with—“

“morgan—“

she kept going. “but you. have. to trust me. i am not going to bring you home with you needing a fucking skin graft! i am not bringing you home to ellie damaged, i am not bringing you home scarred!”

she looked up then.

and he thought, wow. i wonder if she’s ever looked at merlin like this. how did he survive it? and… wait, what was wrong with her eyes? why were they silver around the edges? had long had they been that way?

“but i am bringing you home. if we have to defend ourselves, then we will burn that bridge when we get there. but right now i’d rather us take the stealth route. we will keep our eyes and ears open. we won’t let anything sneak up on us. and we will find a way to the landing point. okay?”

charlie was quiet, but then softly spoke: “… okay.”

this time, seraphim didn’t hide her face. charlie watched the water stream out of her eyes, which looked—“uh, morgan?”

she took off her outer shirt with trembling hands, swearing under her breath, leaving her in a tank top. sweat got into the welts. it was like someone was rubbing salt on them. fuck, it hurt. but every time she looked at charlie, she could see how much straighter he was able to stand, how he seemed to breathe a little easier. worth it. absolutely worth it.

“yes, charlie?”

his eyes caught sight of a large scar at her shoulder. he blinked, trying not to stare. “uhm, can you… can you look at me? for a second?” she used her shirt to bundle up his arm, cradling to her chest awkwardly, like a baby. palms not touching the fabric.

“what? why?”

“just—just look at me. for a second.” seraphim flinched only slightly when charlie brought his hand up to her face, gently pushing up her eyebrow with his thumb. it was a movement he’d seen merlin do, a few times before. he opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, closed it—would it be worth even telling her?

but she interrupted before he could say anything: “… are they silver, where the whites are? shiny, maybe? like polished iron?” something like dread laced her voice.

“… yes.”

seraphim sighed, pursing her lips together and nodding. “okay. we’re, uh, we’re running out of time. but we’re ah, we’re close, okay? we have to get moving. like, right now.”

“all right, all right. ladies first.”

“leaders first.”

“that too.”

but he was only able to hold his tongue for maybe fifteen minutes. not having his arm attached did feel a lot better. but he still felt trapped inside of… he tried to find words, something comparable. a sauna, he supposed, was the closest he could come up with. a very dry sauna.

but then he started to wonder how long they could survive here, where the air they breathed seemed to be poison, and what he could give to just be able to sit down, to find the point, to go home, to see her—

stop it. … stop it.

“morgan?”

“yes, charlie.” why did she already sound resigned?

“… why are your eyes like that?”

seraphim sighed, but her pace didn’t slow, not at first, not really. the rocks around them seemed to slowly level out, from cliffs, to boulders worn smooth by a river that wasn’t there anymore, then finally to what charlie would’ve described as a clearing. a meadow, maybe. but he’d never seen a meadow made up of only rock, sand and silence before. not like the ones he’d played in when he was smaller—with his brother. with james.

drake, cody, jeremy. each name formed once, echoed, and then disappeared.

it wasn’t just ellie he missed.

and merlin wasn’t the only person on seraphim’s mind, either.

charlie almost ran into her when she stopped walking, one hand going up to touch her back. accidentally, he brushed that same large scar with his fingers. she didn’t seem to notice. instead, she asked quietly, her voice shaking: “are we in a clearing? sort of round, even space, except for what might be a sharp cliff jutting up somewhere overrrr there?” and seraphim pointed to where, yes, there was an abrupt lift in the rocky surface of the wasteland.

“uh—yeah, morgan. we are.”

“and we’ve been walking for what feels like—what? a few hours?”

charlie rolled his shoulders. “feels like more than a few, but, yeah. hours. … why?”

slowly, she turned, staring at the ground. and when she looked at him, she was smiling. sweat glistened on her forehead, sliding along her eyebrows.

“groovy. we found the point.”

but charlie almost didn’t hear her.

pinballs.

they looked like pinballs.

she didn’t have pupils anymore. it was entirely possible she wasn’t looking at him.

“jesus christ.” this was the worst time to be hit by an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for an arcade charlie wasn’t even sure was still around the south end.

“you sound upset, chuck.” she laughed but it wasn’t cheerful.

“morgan, uhm—your eyes—“ seraphim pursed her lips together, and it looked like oil was starting to roll down her cheeks.

oh, he thought. she’s crying.

“yeah, uh, i can’t see anymore, but hey, again, it’s okay, because we found the point. i know we did. if we’re—if we’re in a place—“ she sniffed. “that looks like what i described, we’re here. this is—this is it—“

seraphim swallowed. it was just all darkness. just like it’d gone all the other times she’d lost her sight. but this—something about this was different. her entire face ached, sure, that was familiar. but it was like a pulse both hot and freezing in equal portions was moving back further and further into her skull. like someone pressing fingers into her eye sockets.

she wasn’t sure how long she’d be able to ignore it. especially if ran its course.

“so…” charlie began, slowly. “now we wait.”

seraphim nodded. she didn’t bother to wipe at her face, leaving the black tracks where they were. “yeah. now we wait. we uh. we can rest now. things are going to be all right, you’ll see. we just ah, we just wait right here…”

wordlessly, charlie took her elbow. he eased her down next to him, and they sat together in the quiet, backs warmed against the stone.

“morgan?”

“chuck?”

she heard him chuckle, but just once. “what will happen to you? if they don’t find us?”

seraphim sighed. “i’ll lose my eyes. it’s ah, ocular degeneration. they’re uhm. disintegrating, but at least they’ll look shiny before they go. and you’ll get heatstroke.” she said it in the same tone she would’ve described a sports play.

“and we’ll both die.”

“… yeah. we’ll both die.”

* *

it was christmas eve.

nova had never felt less festive in her life—although every time she looked at merlin, she imagined he felt the same.

and she had never felt more defeated.

she didn’t know how many times that day they’d gone over the formula. she didn’t know how many times she’d excused herself to cry. she knew that dinner was happening—had happened?—upstairs, and that three plates had been carefully prepared, left on a desk, and went untouched.

she was sure they all looked a bit thinner at this point.

wyvern and merlin were speaking softly behind her, but nova was standing just where she’d stood for countless hours. staring at the numbers at the whiteboard. willing them to speak. and they still hadn’t.

so she leaned back on her heel, rubbing at her face. just for a second—she let her mind wander to charlie. she pressed her fingers over her eyes.

she thought of him smiling. out in the snow. she thought of watching him from far away, of him looking back at her.

she pictured love in his eyes, lips curled into a crooked smile. snowflakes on his eyelashes. not saying anything at all. just there. with her.

just there with her...

“… jeremy?” she had to cough, her voice initially coming out as a kind of croak. “jeremy. hey. i think i have an idea.” wyvern grabbed his coffee, gone lukewarm. he took a big swig anyway, not that it helped much these days. “these variables right here… these are the factors that sort of shape how it’s looking for a signal, right? this is the ‘how’ in how we’re looking?”

wyvern hummed, nodding. “you got it.”

“okay, so what—what if they weren’t saying anything?”

merlin frowned. “i don’ follow.”

nova’s heart seemed to lift an inch or two. oh my god—oh my god. her hands shook as she grabbed for the eraser, swiping off chunks of the board. wyvern started, “ellie, dude what are—!”

“what if we’re looking for a signal that’s not there?” she asked. but it wasn’t with despair, it wasn’t something dark. merlin’s expression fell anyway, and he rubbed his thumb over his bottom lip, looking to the ground.

she shook her head, trying to get her thoughts into some kind of order. “i mean—we know morgan had her glasses on. that was in the footage. and she probably still has them, hamish, she’s still alive, i know she is, they both are, but what if… what if we changed this so that it wasn’t looking for a signal? what if we found a way to only look for power, anything with a switch in the on position?”

wyvern clasped his fingers behind his neck, gazing up at the ceiling. “like we were just looking for any familiar electrical components that were running… not any that were trying to communicate with us, specifically.” he inhaled deeply, putting his hands over his mouth—and softly made a sort of gentle, screaming sound. “… we’re dumb. we’re so fucking dumb.”

“shut up, no we’re not. i don’t even know if this’ll work—“

but merlin already had a marker in his hand, writing up new equations that they hadn’t used before. it felt better on her eyes already.

“it’ll work.” he said, and quieter, added: “… because i don’t know what else to do if it doesn’t.”

“all we have to do is configure the eye.” wyvern muttered, right at merlin’s shoulder in two long strides, “if we do that, we recast our proverbial net over the same spaces we’ve been looking, and we’ve got to find them. we gotta.”

nova felt a surge of hope surge up so strong she staggered back, hitting the edge of a desk with her tailbone. wyvern looked back over his shoulder at her. she was smiling.

it took her a second to remember what it felt like. to recognize it. hope.

“we will. … we will.”

* *

“… i’m sorry.” seraphim tightened one arm around charlie’s swaddled robotic piece, pressing the bundle more into her chest. she focused on the dull pressure points that ran diagonally over her heartbeat. anything to distract her from the painful blindness.

“why.”

she almost broke at how tired he sounded, how hoarse. like the sand had finally gotten into his vocal cords, rubbed them raw. how long had they been sitting here? how long had they been gone?

she could see the time in the corner of her spectacle frames. she could see the single bar of battery that was left. still no signal, naturally. there wouldn’t be any to be found here.

at least they’ll have the video. they’ll have the audio—this. they’ll know. even if my glasses are all that’s left. they’ll know.

seraphim refused to consider that their bodies would rot here. die here, maybe. but stay? absolutely not. it was getting more and more difficult to keep her thoughts in words. they were starting to devolve into just screaming.

“i thought—i thought that it would be easier for them to find us here.” she swallowed. “i thought—“

“there was never a guarantee.” charlie interrupted, sadly. “it’s okay. it’s okay…”

one of seraphim’s hands had been lying, palm-up, on the ground between them. charlie slid his underneath it.

seraphim opened her mouth to say something, but: “let’s just sit for a while. okay? we’re—we’re both tired. it’ll be all right if we just sit, right?”

so she nodded, letting her head fall against his shoulder. she closed her eyes, not that it changed her view.

and she didn’t know if she fell asleep, or if she passed out. she didn’t know how much time passed before she was hearing charlie speak to her, “… you seein’ this?”

she didn’t open her eyes. what’d be the point? “seein’ what, charlie.”

“it—it looks like a wisp.”

god, she was so tired. she missed merlin. she kept trying to will the scent of his cologne into her nose, but all that she could smell was haze.

maybe, if she fell back asleep, she would dream…

“a wisp?”

charlie didn’t move. he just watched this point of light, moving on its on like a specter. it had blinked into existence maybe a few feet over where they were sitting, a sudden star. and he’d watched it, curious but detached.

what was going to happen was going to happen. he didn’t have the energy to do anything about it now.

the light had floated down towards them until it was finally on level with his eyes. there it stayed, motionless. like it was looking at him.

“yeah,” he said. “a wisp of the woods.”

seraphim didn’t say anything or lift her head. even if she had, she wouldn’t have seen charlie tilt his head to one side, and reach out.

she wouldn’t have seen the flash of light that enveloped them.

* *

nova stood over drake’s shoulder the entire time, watching every single keystroke, watching the grids go out over and over and over again. wyvern was on the other side. merlin was pacing. nova hadn’t quite seen him nervous before. it was unsettling.

“this is the last sort of quadrant that the gate was locked on to before they split,” drake explained, “so if mo’s glasses still have any life in them, they’d be—“ a soft ding. a small green dot, pulsing like a heartbeat, and with every pulse came a chime. “—here.” it came out almost a whisper. “they’re—they’re right here, guys.”

nova’s eyes stung. thank you, thank you, thank you… “okay, so, we’ve got a lock on them, how do we get them here?” but wyvern was already at the gate console, and a familiar hum filled the room. nova had never been so happy to see the faint blue rings, to see the tendrils spark into being their proper shade of white. but they weren’t reaching out, no. it was like they were flowing into a space back behind the gate, somewhere they couldn’t see.

“we employ the fuckin’ traceback is what we do. drake, how strong’s the grip?”

drake frowned. “strong enough for a pull. we’re doing this right now?”

“they’re outside of our flow of time, we have no idea what their status is, where they landed, if they’re hurt, or how much time has passed, we’re doing this now. merlin, do me a solid and use that comm right there to get aly and caroline down here? just… just in case. now, everybody just stand tight for a second.” for a few minutes, nothing happened, save for a tense silence broken only by wyvern’s furious typing. the gate gave its own background white noise.

and rougarou and cherub did make it down to the basement, equipment bags in tow, right around the same time that there a sudden snap; charlie and seraphim materialized about four feet off the floor and unceremoniously dropped. the thuds would’ve echoed if it wasn’t for the rug.

merlin had to fling his arms around nova to keep her from charging forward. “charlie? charlie!”

“easy, easy, we need to let them get checked out first—!“

charlie’s eyes were closed, his countenance peaceful, as if he was just sleeping. cherub had her hands on this throat, his chest—“he’s breathing. he’s breathing, but—“

“they’re burning up.” rougarou had been left to contend with seraphim, who hadn’t quite fallen asleep inside of the wave the brought them home.

their temperatures clocked in at 102.5, according to the small reader in cherub’s hands. their breaths rattled, rasped.

and merlin watched, horrified, at seraphim’s ravaged, blinded frame. he couldn’t immediately think of a way to articulate how he felt about her eyes.

seraphim felt the cool air of the basement first. and yes, she could hear them, hear everyone. after a moment, recognized them. but it wasn’t rougaoru’s voice that made seraphim realize in whose arms she was lying in, it was her perfume.

that brought her back. the smell of recovery, the smell of home, the smell of returning after centralia and other hells.

“… aly?” seraphim choked, hand fisting the material of rougarou’s shirt, trying to cling to anything familiar. but she didn’t let go of charlie’s arm. she had a white-knuckled grip on that bundle. there were hands on her face again, her eyebrows.

“morgan… morgan, what did you do to your eyes?”

“i’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“if you can crack jokes, you aren’t dying.”

nova surged against merlin’s grip, even as she could see that charlie wasn’t awake. and she wondered how he stood so still, seeing seraphim finally succumb to unconsciousness.

but to seraphim, all she knew was that she could feel the floor. she could feel and smell rougaoru. she was breathing clean air. there wasn’t an entity with static following them anymore. no desert. no skybound city. no white light beyond what she’d left behind.

she was safe. she was home.

and so.

she let herself black out.

* * *

charlie woke up slowly.

he hadn’t realized how much pain he had been in until the pain was gone, replaced by a strange warmth that made his head swim. he blinked a few times until the ceiling lights came into focus.

i’m in medical. they found us. we’re home.

he inhaled deeply, exhaled.

home. home. home.

there was beeping somewhere in the background as he tilted his head and saw nova, asleep in a chair next to his bed (along with an iv line that ended in his arm—that explained the lightness). she was so close. he watched her chest rise and fall, tried to memorize how her hair fell over her countenance. his heart sank at the darkness underneath her eyes. her face looked thinner.

there were questions that roamed around on the edges of his mind. he didn’t know where seraphim was, or his arm. and he was vaguely sure that there hadn’t been christmas lights up when they’d left. how long had they been gone?

but charlie left them where they were. for now, there was just one thing he wanted to do with what little energy he had.

gently, charlie reached out and took nova’s hand, moving it so that it rested between his head and his pillow. he pressed a slight kiss into her palm, a promise. he looked up at her one more time, though his vision stung and blurred. he closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat.

on the other end of the medical bay, merlin sat in a chair against the far wall, carefully regarding seraphim. she had bandages wrapped around her head, covering her eyes; there were dark stains that reminded him a bit of smudged ink. he made no move to be closer, just watched her, holding his chin in one hand.

and charlie’s last thought before he fell back asleep rather mirrored the quartermaster’s.

she’s worth all of this.

… is she worth all of this?

somewhere upstairs, merlin could hear raucous singing, muted by the walls.

“said the king to the people everywhere, ‘listen to what i say! pay for peace, people everywhere! listen to what i say—the child, the child, sleeping in the night, he will bring us goodness and light, he will bring us goodness and light—!”

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glacierview-blog · 7 years

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“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves. Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on. Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain are moving across the landscapes, over the prairies and the deep trees, the mountains and the rivers. Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting - over and over announcing your place in the family of things.” Mary Oliver Wild Geese

The other day the owner of the lodge rushed in, gathered a bag of salted chips, a cup of water, and a sandwich and she told us there was a belligerent drunk man at the top of the drive way off Glenn Highway who was incoherent. He was very, very, inebriated and holding on to a half empty jug of vodka. He refused any help. It’s thought that he was hitchhiking and got booted from whatever motorist’s vehicle was carting him towards us. In the city, this wouldn't be a big deal, but in Glacier view there is nothing around for miles. The closest town is almost an hour away. Mark, the other owner went up to help him and to keep tabs on him. I asked the owner for a description of the man and all she could tell me was that he was wearing a big winter hat, and had a big red, swollen face. We were instructed to lock out doors, and as I was falling asleep, listening to every sound around us on high alert for the drunken backpacker, I heard the pitter patter of spring rain falling on the trailer. The rains stayed steady but the winds began to pick up and I could hear a big whirring noise near us. I think perhaps another dust devil had formed. The whirring and wind came right at us and the trailer shook and rattled before it passed completely. I got out of bed and opened the blinds to look in to the day lit evening, but saw nothing. Even the rain had stopped. I fell in to another restless sleep.

The next day the neighbor came down in his red Porsche to tell us that the man was still up there, and he was moving a little. He had fallen asleep on the side of the road, underneath a tarp. The trooper had been called to do a welfare check, but when they showed up later they informed the staff that the man was nowhere to be found. Arriving at the lodge that morning, I noticed the garbage can was emptied of half its contents which had been strewn around and the bags had been ripped open. The day before that they were knocked all over. The owner told us the first night it must have been the wind, and that this time she heard magpies and thinks it must have been them. The neighbor driving the red Porsche told us he thinks it might be “co-yotes” aka coyotes. He wasn’t able to talk to Jodi and Mark because they had headed in to the nearest town to grab groceries.

I finished up breakfast service with Brian and thankful for my split shift break, decided to head to the basement of the lodge where there is a big comfortable couch and ample access to the wifi connection. Leaving my glasses upstairs, I descending the staircase and walked past the laundry, dry storage, and closets and reached the couch nestled in the hallway. The hotel rooms of the lodge are located in the basement, there are big windows and a door, and the whole floor is quite cozy. With my cup of tea in hand, laptop in front of me, and relaxation setting in, I decided to do some research for which city I want to head to next. Suddenly, I noticed a huge man form in the doorway, and without my glasses cannot see well enough to make out the details of a face. I could however, see a big winter hat, and the way the figure was fumbling. Panicked, I grabbed my cell, kindle, and laptop and started to bolt upstairs just as he entered and started yelling after me. I noticed Brians laptop was down here too, and leaving my crocs, grabbed it to run upstairs. The cord was plugged in to both his laptop, and the wall, and hindered me momentarily. I ran upstairs past the yoga group who were in the middle of a quiet meditation, and told our pastry chef that the drunk man was in the basement. She called the troopers, and then mark, to let them know that the man who we called about yesterday had wandered in to our basement. Brian walked by and I told him that the man was downstairs. He went down to check, and walked back upstairs. Next thing I know, I hear surprised slurring aimed at the yoga retreat group. These poor people, in the middle of their meditations, lying supine on the lodge floor had been walked in on by a towering, drunk, and unstable man wandering the Alaskan wilderness and who had started making fun of them. Brian immediately, and admirably, went in to social work mode and calmly and cheerfully asked the guy to come talk to him outside. We locked the doors and didn’t let him out of our site as they sat and talked. We had called the troopers, but being so far away it would take them a while to show up. No one wanted to call the cops on the man just because he was homeless, but we had been instructed to do so by the owners who had been interacting with him. Also, it felt better to know there would be a welfare check made on him, because we live in the middle of nowhere and felt uneasy about the possibility of this drunken, towering, stranger bursting through our doorways. We made him a sandwich, and gave him a bag of cooked grains, and a large cup of water. Brian sat and talked with him on the stoop until the trooper showed up. The trooper treated him with respect and offered to drop him off in the next town over that he was trying to get to but ran his ID first. There was a warrant out for his arrest so he was politely taken in to custody. I hope that he has since been offered any medical care required, because his hands were shaking terribly, he was asking for liquor, and the withdrawal can kill a person. If his warrant wasn’t for anything serious, I’m sure he’s free by now. If it wasn’t for something harmless, I’m glad he’s no longer wandering around on our property in the wilderness. Apparently Alaska has a big run away convict problem, because people who want to disappear themselves find that the wilderness here is the perfect place to be anonymous. It’s far away from the lower 48, but you also do not need a passport to access it.

Today, my shift started at 6:30. And by midday I was ready for bed. Brian however, convinced me to try to scale the same mountain that I had such a hard time with about a week ago. Begrudgingly, I complied, but not without a lot of moaning and dramatic refusals first. The weather was actually perfect for it today, the sun was shining, the air was cool and a light breeze blew all around us. We walked up the driveway, crossed the road, and wandered in to the big gravel clearing and I found us the right pathway in to the woods. Everything is already so much more green than it was last week, and we had to be extra diligent to scan the landscape for bear or moose. We also had to keep the conversation going despite running out of breath, so that we wouldn’t surprise the aforementioned creatures. With bear spray at hip, we quickly found the correct path up the side of the mountain and began our ascent. The path is in the middle of the greenery and is thin and brown and scattered with grey stones. It was also littered with the scat of various animals, definetly moose, and maybe goat. I can’t yet tell. On either sides of the path are bushes and small trees and blueberry basically cover the entire mountain. The trail quickly became steep and our feet slid on the loose brown dirt. We had to grab on to the side of the path and hoist ourselves up. A few times, Brian and I grabbed plants as not to fall, and quickly recoiled in pain as the plants were made of thorns and covered our hands in splinters. The path opened up to the side of the mountain where the dirt was replaced by a path of loose rock that slips underfoot. The only way to ascend is to be sure of your feet and keep your center of gravity low to the mountain side. The higher we ascended, the more the winds picked up and filled me with a terrible unease that we could be swept off the side of it. We also had to keep scanning the landscape for predators. Climbing higher and higher, we moved swiftly and I was so pleased that unlike the first time, I could practically run up the mountainside with ease. We climbed the winding thin mountain path on our hands and feet for most of the way and reaching way further than I had gone the first time, I asked to stop. Looking at your next step is fine for me, looking over the edges of the boulders on the mountain and realizing how high you is not so great for me. So we sat. We were almost at the top, and after one more long stretch, we would just make it. I noticed that the winds were picking up, and that rain had started sweeping across the valley. Brian assured me that the winds were blowing the other way, so the rain would not reach us. He was right about which way the winds were facing, but knowing how dangerous it would be to try to descend an almost vertical rock face in the rain kept me very cautious. I wanted to scale the rest of the mountain just as badly as he, but intuition told me to watch the sky. The winds were soaring all around us and pushing past us, but the clouds above looked like they weren’t moving at all. I decided to use the sun as a reference point. “Look, if the grey clouds forming to our right move closer to the sunshine, we will know the rains will probably reach us,” I told him. He agreed. The rains were growing in intensity across the valley to our left and covered the white peaks with curtains of smoky grey. I pointed out to Brian that the sun would soon be lost within the storm clouds as they were indeed moving out way, and with little deliberation, we decided to start our descent. We had to rush down the mountain because being up there in the rain was the last thing we both wanted. We had to proceed quickly, but with extreme caution, and I am horrified to say that in our haste, twice we almost took a route that would have dropped us off a rock as it very much looked like the real path. We had to skate down almost on our butts, and grab on to anything we could as not to fall forward. I almost fell at least three times, but felt elated that we were making down the mountain just as the sky started to sprinkle. We found the path at the base of the mountain and in the greenery made loud conversation, again to ward off predators. We were shouting the conversation back and forth, in a full spring towards the gravel opening trying to beat the rains. The rain started coming down more heavily and just as we reached the driveway to Majestic Valley, it started pouring. I am so so thankful that I watched the movement of the sun to the clouds and ebbed us towards a swift descent.

We are now on the couches in the basement. The rains were so heavy that you couldn’t even see the mountains, but they have cleared now. I want to shower as the descent kicked up so much loose dirt in to my lungs, hair, and clothes. We have the next few days off and are heading in to Anchorage for the first time since arriving to do a grocery trip soon. Love you all.

View from our perch.

Happy to be so close to the sheep.

At the foot of our mountain, watching the rains gather strength across the valley.

Backyard copters.

Exploring the trail behind the trailer.

Cozy and small, and we are almost never in it.

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