#may do a more complicated one to make permanent/rolling later just not today | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

zamoimagines · 4 years

Text

HOWARD HOUSE (Collaboration Project w/ @ladypaulsvn)

Episode 1: Pilot

Word Count: 3,631

Summary: Billie Dean Howard and Audrey Tindall both are very successful television stars. What people may not know is that these two actually live together... with seven other women. What happens when they make the decision to create a reality tv show about their home life? Find out and tune into Howard House, a brand new series about mayhem, love, and unconventionality.

A/N: hello everyone! this is the first collaborative project that I’ve ever been apart of! @ladypaulsvn and I had an idea in April that turned into an entire series. This is basically Keeping Up With the Kardashians but if it was all Sarah’s characters. We’re incredibly proud of this, and we’ve worked extremely hard on this first chapter. If you want more, let us know because we have quite a few plans for this series! We really hope you enjoy!

“Are we rolling?” Billie muttered as a crew member finished fixing up her hair.

“We’re rolling!”

Audrey shooed away her makeup artist before flashing a perfect smile.

The last of the crew members made their way off the screen as Billie made eye contact with the camera.

“I’m Billie Dean Howard,”

“And I’m Audrey Tindall!” the Brit sang out.

“You may know us from popular TV shows such as Devil’s Night and My Roanoke Nightmare.” Billie added in a warm tone.

“We thought it would be interesting to do a collaborative series that was a little different from the dark paranormal themes we’ve worked on in the past.”

“That’s right, Audrey. We wanted to give our fans something a little more lighthearted!”

“So when Billie suggested we do a reality show type series of our home life, I hopped right on board! Because quite frankly we do not have a normal home.”

Billie laughed light heartedly at her comment. “That is extremely correct. We thought we would give insight into who we are outside of our respective careers and include the amazing eclectic group of women we share our home with.”

“We hope you join us in this premiere episode of Howard House.”

“Cut!”

The screen fades to black. The show starts with a simple shot of the Howard House. Inside, Billie Dean Howard is holding the very first personal interview.

“So, just introduce yourself for the audience, yeah?”

“Right, right.” Billie sat down on the couch in front of the cameras.

“As many of you may know, I’m Billie Dean Howard. I’m a psychic medium, and I’ve been working with the dead for decades now. Never expected to make a career out of it. Let alone a whole show!” She laughs off her comment with the members of the crew.

“All jokes aside, I’m incredibly thankful for my career. If it wasn’t for the screen, I wouldn’t have met all the girls… I’ll always be grateful for that. Audrey came to me with the idea for this show, and I have to admit, I was a little nervous. They’ve all become like a family to me. A very complicated family to say the least. The others liked the idea so much despite my fears, so I finally decided it was a good idea.”

Billie cracked a smile at the thought.

“If it wasn’t for Audrey, the show wouldn’t have even aired.”

The camera cuts to a new shot of Audrey Tindall explaining her side of the story.

“Oh, yeah! It was my idea and everything. Billie’s nice like that. She’ll go along with most things as long as it doesn’t ruin her image. I was genuinely surprised she said yes to this by those standards!” Audrey light heartedly laughed, glancing over the camera to see Billie rolling her eyes.

“I can always make everyone go home, you know. Shows over!” Billie’s voice can be heard off screen.

“Oh, shut up Billie.” Audrey waves her away.

The interview continued on as normal. There were a few quick banters exchanged between Audrey and Billie, who stayed off screen. Eventually, Billie left the room to leave Audrey to talk about what the rest of the show would be like.

“Basically, It’s going to show our everyday lives here with all the girls. How we live. Who we really are.” Audrey was always one for the dramatics.

“This ‘Pilot’ episode, if you will, is just an introduction. A little taste of what’s to come!” Her hands added flare to her words.

As Audrey continued explaining the simple mechanics of the show, Ally slipped in through the front door. She gave the actress a small wave.

Audrey’s eyes immediately lit up as she called her girlfriend over. “Sweetheart, hello! Come here!” She quickly stood from her chair and grabbed Ally’s hand, guiding her in front of the camera.

“This is my girlfriend, Ally! Isn’t she simply darling?” Audrey smiled widely as she sat Ally on her lap. Ally wasn’t too keen on being on camera yet.

“Oh yeah, hi! I forgot this was today.” Ally swiped her hair behind her ear, not knowing what to say.

Audrey nearly squealed at seeing her girlfriend so shy.

“You are just bloody adorable.” She gazed back up at the camera as Ally’s cheeks turned a bright shade of red.

“She’s a bit timid about being filmed. I’m used to a crew following me everywhere, but Ally isn’t quite adjusted to it yet.”

The next shot is Ally sitting in the spot Audrey was in, now all alone. She has an awkward expression on her face as if she’s not sure what to talk about.

“Just tell us a little bit about yourself. You’re a politician, right?”

Ally nodded slightly to the camera man.

“I am. Before I got into politics, I owned a restaurant. Still do. I’ve just been really focused on my campaign.”

“And how long have you been with Audrey?”

“U-uh, about two years now.”

“How’d you guys meet?”

“Well, as I said before, I own a restaurant downtown and at that point I was on my own with Oz, my son. I had just divorced my ex wife. I’d been putting all my time into my work. That’s when famous actress Audrey Tindall came into my life. She’d never been in the restaurant before. She was instantly a flirty little thing. When she left, I found her number scrawled on her receipt and well… the rest is history.” Ally’s smile was giant as she explained the story, reminiscing on the past years of her life she had spent falling for the Brit.

“How did you end up here in the house with the rest of the girls?”

“I won’t get too personal, but after a few months of seeing Audrey and how well she got along with Oz, I started making frequent trips to this humble abode. I admit that it was quite a shock meeting everyone for the first time. Though they all took so kindly to Oz and I. We spent more nights here than at our apartment, so Billie invited us to permanently move in. I obviously couldn’t deny her offer. We’ve been here for the last two years.” Ally honestly loved telling this story.

“These lovely ladies couldn’t have come at a better time in my life. I’m so thankful to have them, especially Audrey. They’re all truly one of a kind. I’m so lucky to have such good role models for Oz and people who genuinely care for him. He loves it here, even with the constant bickering.” Ally laughed as she made fun of the banter that constantly rang through the house.

As Ally answered more questions about life in the house and her professions, a snarky blonde with frizzy hair was waiting very impatiently in the other room.

“Do you guys want to see a picture of Oz? I have a couple on my phone-“ Ally began.

“Oh come ON” an annoyed voice rang out.

As Ally began to pull out her cell, the blonde barged into the room. She was definitely not as put together as the others. The woman had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and was wearing a tattered old dress. Her makeup was completely smudged. She didn’t seem camera ready, but she was definitely acting like she was.

“Ally, seriously, you’ve taken way too long.” She growled. In an instant, she pushed Ally off of her seat. The politician fell onto the floor offscreen with a thud while this new woman crossed her legs.

“Sal, what the hell?!” Ally shouted.

Sally glanced down at her as she took her cigarette between her fingers.

“You were hogging the f%*#$ing camera.”

“So that gives you a right to just physically assault people?”

As Ally stood up, there was a long silence between the two women. The camera was focused on Sally, who looked obviously remorseful for acting on a whim. Her free hand reached out to hold Ally’s.

“Look, I’m sorry. I was anxious.”

Ally remained silent.

“It won’t happen again… I promise. I’m really sorry.”

“Well, you should be.”

“I’ll make it up to you. We’ll go for ice cream later, okay?”

Another silence.

“Okay.” Ally muttered.

“Okay.” Sally replied as the brunette exited the room. She leaned back in her seat and turned her ear toward the door.

“I love you, Ally!” she called out.

There was no answer. Sally shrugged.

“She’ll be fine.” She began, “I’ve done worse.”

“Uh… Okay. You wanna go ahead and introduce yourself?”

A huge grin appeared on Sally’s face.

“I thought you’d never ask!” She exclaimed as she took a drag of her cancer stick.

“The name’s Sally. Sally McKenna. I’m unemployed, BUT I happen to be a social media influencer,” She winked to the camera. “Follow me on instagram, sallythatgirl.”

“You’re a social media influencer, and you only have instagram?”

“Oh god no! I’ve got twitter, youtube, instagram, facebook, you name it! And I just started a tik tok account.” She had a proud look on her face.

“No, but I used to be a musician in the 90’s. That was a bust. Turned to drugs, that was also a bust. I lived in a shit hole for a loooong time. Until Cordelia came along.” She smirked to herself, “Don’t tell her I said this, but… Cordelia saved me. She came by my place looking for one of her friends and we happened to get into conversation. I told her not to pity me. She has such a kind heart that the bitch took me home with her the same day. I’ve been here ever since.”

Sally ashes her cigarette in one of the crew member’s coffee cups nearby.

“Anyway, enough with the sappy shit. I’m really excited to start this show. I have a really good feeling that I’m gonna be a fan favorite.”

“I-I wasn’t finished with that cup of coffee-”

“Sure you were, John! It was empty.” Sally replied. When she glanced back into the cup, she pursed her lips.

“.... My bad. I’ll… Here, I’ll have someone get you some more- DELIA!” She stood up and left the room to go find the Supreme.

“I F&%ED UP, I NEED YOUR HELP!”

After Sally left, a new shot panned on Cordelia Goode. She was already sitting down and completely poised. She handed John a new cup of coffee.

“Sorry about Sally. She can be a bit of a handful.”

“It’s alright. Thank you for making this.”

“It’s no trouble at all.” Cordelia replied with a warm smile.

“So, you were the first one to move in with Billie?”

“Yes, I was. A few years back, she did an episode for her show at Robichaux’s Academy where I taught. At the time, the place was extremely overcrowded. I obviously had too much on my plate. My confidant, Zoe, had been pushing me to go out and find my own place. I had to live somewhere that wasn’t surrounded by screaming girls. When Billie was done filming, we ended up becoming good friends. I was stressed and ended up telling her about Zoe’s idea. She invited me to move in with her, and so I decided to take the chance. Zoe was proud of me and I became a better Supreme because of my decision.”

“What’s it like living here but still fulfilling your responsibilities as Supreme?”

“At first it was challenging to get used to. I hated being away from my girls, but wanted to give myself the chance to adjust. After a few months, I quite enjoyed having my own space and traveling between the two. Billie was really accepting of my responsibilities as Supreme. She never complained of my late hours. Around that time she was usually away filming, so we didn’t see much of each other anyway. It’s a little different now that we have more people living here. I still enjoy it all the same with our little family we’ve created.”

“What’s your schedule like nowadays?”

“Oh, pretty similar! I’ll go back and forth to the Academy to check on my girls and occasionally teach classes when Zoe or Mallory is sick.”

“What about life here?”

“That’s never the same. It’s a constant changing schedule here. Sometimes Billie or Audrey are out filming god knows where. Or Ally has campaigning to do so we help watch Oz. Lana’s always out chasing some new story whenever she gets the chance... Bette and Dot stay home usually. The same with Wilhemina ever since she started working from home; she likes structure and order. Sally is the complete opposite. She stays at home more often than not but is always trying to stir up trouble, just for the hell of it. We all have different schedules but we help each other out when we can. We really are a family.”

“That’s beautiful. Speaking of Ms. Winters, do you know if she’s available for an interview?”

Cordelia chuckled to yourself. “If you can catch her, you can most definitely talk to her.”

Lana is next at the camera. She looks completely composed; she was meant for the camera.

“Miss Winters, thank you for talking with us on such a short notice.”

“Anything for television.” the brunette replied with a smirk.

“What has life been like since the attack?”

There was a sort of tenseness to her position.

“Jumping right in with Bloody Face… I’m fairing fine. He got what he deserved and I’m safe now. Not to mention, my career has been soaring and I’ve finally surrounded myself with a group of people that really care about my well being. Things are so lighthearted around here. I didn’t know I needed to be here, but I can see why Cordelia invited me to stay.”

“You’re a very brave woman, Miss Winters.”

“Thank you, John. I’m more than ready to move on from that situation though.”

“Of course. My bad… So, you worked with Billie on the Briarcliffe series, correct?”

“Yes! That’s where it all began actually.” She had the proudest look on her face. “The Briarcliffe series was one of the best moments of my career. Billie wanted to help me expose all of the awful things that happened there, and we charged in there demanding the truth.”

“And it’s true that Briarcliffe was shut down shortly after the series aired?”

“Correct. Billie and I single handedly took down the most horrific place in America. I’m so grateful for her collaboration. I’m not sure I could have done it without her.”

Lana crossed her legs gracefully, holding her right knee with clasped hands.

“After that, I knew I was safe. It was still incredibly hard to go home alone. Post traumatic stress disorder can do a number on a person” She bit her lower lip, “I spent so many sleepless nights paranoid and utterly terrified of nothing. It grew harder and harder to be by myself, and it was very obvious to everyone that I worked with, including Billie. That’s when she told me to come stay at her commune.”

“Commune?”

“Well, that’s what this place isn’t it?” Lana replied with a laugh. “I was skeptical at first. Living with eight strangers I’ve never met in my life sounded like an absolute nightmare. Though, Billie promised me it would be worth my while. I stayed one night and fell in love with everyone that lives here. It was so nice to not have to be alone, and this house has really made me feel significantly better as far as safety goes. You’re never alone around here, but I don’t mind that. In fact, it makes me feel extremely comfortable.”

“Are you close with any of the girls in particular? Some of the others were discussing how you often can be found with Cordelia Goode when you are home.”

The reporter’s cheeks turned a bright shade of pink.

“I-I mean- Yes, Cordelia and I are great friends. Though, I’ve taken all of them under my wing. Sally’s chaotic, though she’s really just a child deep down that’s craving some sort of attention. Audrey and Ally are both sweethearts. Cordelia is… absolutely wonderful.” Her cheeks grew even brighter in color. “I do have a particular attachment to Bette and Dot, though.”

“Is that because you saved them from Briarcliffe?”

“Indeed, it is. Aren’t you good at researching for an interview? I'm thoroughly impressed, John.”

“Thank you, Miss Winters. Would you care to tell us how you came to the Tattler’s rescue?”

“Perhaps I should let them tell that story.”

Conjoined twins are sitting in front of the camera, rather nervous. One is greeting everyone with a big grin and the other looks suspicious of her surroundings.

“I promise you that we aren’t going to harm you. We’ve heard many wonderful things about the two of you.”

“Oh I know that! Dot just doesn’t trust anyone.” Bette giggled at the camera man. Dot silently glared at her sister then turned back to the camera.

“That’s not true. I’m just far more cautious than my sister.” Dot explained.

“Guarded, maybe.” Bette said under her breath, her smile faltering momentarily.

“Okay… Well how about some questions? Would you be okay with that?”

Both girls nodded.

“I’ve asked nearly everyone this same question. How did you girls arrive here at the house?”

“Oh… well, it was Lana really.” Dot started. “She did a documentary about Briarcliff and we watched it.” Bette began to add. “Our parents were going to send us there… and after seeing the documentary we confronted them about their intentions.” Bette looked to the floor.

“They kicked us out, essentially.” Dot stated with a cross face. “Instead of wallowing in our tears, we packed up and left for LA to find Lana and thank her for keeping us from the awful fate we could’ve had at Briarcliff.” Dot explained.

Bette looked up again at this point. “Oh yes! I want to tell this next part. It wasn’t very hard to find her; we ran into her on the streets of LA! It was magical really. We thanked her and instead of just going about her business, she stayed and asked us questions about what happened and why we were there instead of back home in Florida. After a wonderful conversation with her, we said our goodbyes and went to leave. But she stopped us! We were confused at first. Then she offered us a place to stay since we were on our own. Dot declined, as she doesn’t trust people, but I accepted and convinced Dot to agree as well.” Bette happily told their tale.

“It’s true I was apprehensive, but I’m glad we’re here now. Maybe listening to Bette is a good idea… sometimes.” Dot added and Bette smiled satisfactorily.

“What a moving story ladies. You’re obviously both very different personalities. How do you get on with the rest of the women in the house?”

“We mostly stay to ourselves, really.” Bette answered and Dot nodded.

“Though I enjoy a conversation or two with Wilhemina.” Dot said bashfully.

“Oh they’re awfully annoying sometimes. Always gossiping about the others. I think you forget that I can hear your thoughts Dot.” Bette laughed as she looked at her sister.

Dot consequently glared in her direction. “Shut up.”

“Um, Ow!”

“What did I say before all of this? Don’t say stuff like that Bette!”

“Oh it’s not my fault you’re so reserved. It’s an interview for goodness sake Dot! They ask questions!”

The girls were interrupted by the man behind the camera. “Okay ladies… How about we continue this another time?”

“Sounds wonderful, thank you John!” Bette stated and Dot agreed. “I’d rather not do this ever again.” The girls quickly left the room, still bickering to one another. The camera panned to a redheaded woman dressed in purple from head to toe. Her posture was rather rigid and she was gripping a wooden cane. From outside, the crew could hear Bette and Dot trying to talk to her.

“Mina, it’s your turn!” Bette sung out sweetly.

“Bette, darling, I’m reading.” the woman, Mina, muttered in a disinterested tone.

“But it’s for the tv show! You told Billie you’d do an interview, remember?”

Mina glanced up from her book with her brow cocked.

“What tv show?” she asked.

Bette pointed in the direction of the camera crew and waved to them when she saw that they were still recording. Mina looked in that direction before rolling her eyes.

“I thought Billie said I wouldn’t have to talk?”

“That’s what she told me too-” Dot began.

“Well of course you have to talk, silly! It ain’t every day that you get to be on television!” Bette giggled, “Go on!”

“Bette, I’d rather not.”

“Wilhelmina Venable, you will stop acting like such an introvert and you will go do your interview just like everyone else has done!”

There was a long pause of silence as Mina made eye contact with Dot.

“D… Did you do one?” she asked quietly.

“Unfortunately.” Dot replied.

Wilhelmina groaned before standing up. Leaning upon the cane, she slowly sauntered over to the doorway to the room where the interviews were being held. She looked directly into the camera.

“I’m not going to bother even stepping into the room. All you need to know is that my name is Wilhelmina Venable and I live here. Good day.”

She walked in the opposite direction as Bette and Dot followed her down the hallway.

“Mina that was NOT an interview!” Bette called out.

“Yes it was!” Wilhelmina shouted back.

The camera crew all gazed at each other. A few members shrugged as others began to start cleaning up their equipment.

“I think that’s a wrap on the pilot!”

#howard house #collab fic #we hope you guys like it! let us know what you think #billie dean howard #audrey tindall #ally mayfair richards #sally mckenna #cordelia goode #lana winters #bette and dot tattler #bette tattler #dot tattler #wilhemina venable #ahs #american horror story #ahs imagine #ahs fic #american horror story imagine #american horror story fic

123 notes · View notes

grailfinders · 4 years

Text

Fate and Phantasms #49: Lu Bu Fengxian

Today on Fate and Phantasms, we’re building the General of Repetition, General of the Left, General Who Pacifies the East, and General of Repetition, Lu Bu Fengxian! Lu Bu is a Berserker/Champion combo who’s good with every form of his signature weapon, the Fāngtiān Huàjǐ. Have I mentioned I’m really glad this is a text based format?

You can check out the level-by-level breakdown below the cut, or the summary here!

Race and Background

Quick and easy, Lu Bu is a Human Soldier. That gives him +1 to all stats, and proficiency with Athletics and Intimidation. Also, because you’re a general, you might get some respect from anywhere that recognizes your rank.

Stats

Your Strength should be your highest stat, that’s the one that makes the most stabbing. You’re not a druid, so any weapon that doesn’t use strength will use your Dexterity. Third is your Constitution; you’re a berserker, so you excel at all things physical. Your Charisma isn’t amazing, probably because you can’t really talk that well. Or at all. Your Wisdom is pretty low, but you’re cognizant of the action economy which is surprisingly wise of you, so we’ll dump Intelligence instead. You typically leave tactics to Chen Gong.

Class Levels

1. Barbarian 1: First level barbarians get proficiency in Strength and Constitution saves, as well as two Barbarian skills. Red Hare liked you so much he became a servant to follow you around, so you’re probably pretty good with Animal Handling. Also, you have to see good to shoot good, so tick off Perception as well.

First level barbarians learn to Rage, temporarily gaining resistance to slashing, piercing, and bludgeoning damage and getting a whole lot of strength bonuses for as long as they keep hitting and getting hit, up to a minute. You also get Unarmored Defense, giving you AC based on your constitution and dexterity. You do have... let’s call it medium armor, but the choice is nice.

While we’re here, lets talk about weapons. Technically, your signature weapon can transform into six different modes, but that’s a lot to keep track of, and I have no idea what a “sweeping” mode would look like, so we’re keeping things simple here. We’re grabbing a Pike for the melee mode and a Longbow for the ranged weapon. You won’t start with the longbow, but it’ll be a while before you get any juicy features for it, so just buy one later when you get the chance.

2. Barbarian 2: Second level barbarians can make Reckless Attacks, getting advantage on all your melee attacks for one turn in exchange for all attacks on you getting advantage as well. Also, your Danger Sense gives you advantage on dexterity saving throws. For those of you keeping track at home, you’re now proficient in two physical saves, and have nearly permanent advantage on the third. You’re pretty well rounded, if you ignore every mental stat you have. Which is exactly what we’re doing, because you’re a berserker.

3. Fighter 1: The third level of barbarian isn’t kind to you, so we’re going to hold off on that for a second and check out fighter instead. First level fighters get a Fighting Style, your preferred way of dealing damage. Great Weapon Fighting lets you reroll 1s and 2s to damage rolls of two-handed melee weapons which, oh look, you have. Your Second Wind lets you heal a bit if you want, just remember every bonus action spent healing is another bonus action not spent killing.

4. Fighter 2: Your Action Surge lets you pack another action into a single turn. We heard you like stabbing, so now you can stab while you stab.

5. Fighter 3: At third level you become a Champion. Your Improved Critical lets you deal critical damage on an attack roll of 19 as well as 20. In case you couldn’t tell yet, stabbing is your hobby, and you’re really good at it.

6. Fighter 4: Burn your first ASI to become a Great Weapon Master. Whenever you make a critical hit or kill a creature with a melee weapon, you can use your bonus action to make a single melee weapon attack. You can also opt to take a -5 penalty to an attack roll with a heavy weapon to add 10 to the damage roll. Your reckless attacks plus your improved critical means you have four times the odds of critting as a normal person, so that penalty is basically nothing to you. Like I said, you’re good at stabbing.

7. Barbarian 3: Back in barbarian, you’re now a Berserker. You were a Berserker before, but now it’s official. Don’t think about it too much. Berserkers can use a Frenzy when they rage, letting them use their bonus action to make an extra attack, but after their rage ends they take one level of exhaustion. Oh look, it’s literally what you got last level, but with a debilitating side effect. Don’t use Frenzy.

8. Barbarian 4: Use your next ASI to start beefing up on Strength. It will be a while before we can really make your bow shine, so best get really comfortable with that pike while we’re waiting.

9. Barbarian 5: Fifth level barbarians get an Extra Attack, letting you make two attacks in one action. This means you now have eight times the chance to deal a critical per round compared to most people, and that will give you a bonus attack to boot. You also get Fast Movement, adding 10′ to your movement speed while not wearing heavy armor. You’re not even proficient in heavy armor, so if you do end up in some you’ll have bigger problems than moving slower.

10. Barbarian 6: Your second berserker feature is your Mindless Rage, making you immune to being charmed or frightened while raging, and suspending any charms or spooks affecting you if you where charmed/frightened before the rage started. Most charms try to bring a person over to the caster’s side: you don’t do sides. They’re all just “People I haven’t stabbed yet”.

11. Fighter 5: Fifth level fighters also get an extra attack, but it doesn’t stack with your other extra attack, so this level’s also does nothing. Now both of your classes have given you a dead weight level. Does that make this a balanced build?

12. Fighter 6: We’re gearing up for some shooting, so put this next ASI into the Resilient feat to round out your Dexterity and give you proficiency with dex saves. This also increases your AC, so it’s great all around.

13. Fighter 7: Seventh level champions are Remarkable Athletes. You can now add half your proficiency score to strength, dexterity, and constitution checks that you’re not proficient in, and add your strength modifier to your long jump distance. Now I’m wondering if there’s a third thing like this to make a fighter/bard that’s better in things they’re not proficient in....

14. Fighter 8: Another ASI to make your Dexterity equal to your strength. Now you’re almost as deadly at range as you are up close. Some people are smart enough not to come near you, but they’re only prolonging the inevitable.

15. Fighter 9: Ninth level fighters are Indomitable, letting you reroll one failed saving throw per long rest. Most people are probably going to try and charm you out of a fight, but you’ve got other ways to deal with that (read: stabbing them). Wait for someone to wisen up and try to Banish you, you’ll probably need it then.

16. Fighter 10: Champions get an Additional Fighting Style at level 10. Archery lets you add 2 to ranged attack rolls. It’s not complicated, but it works. Like you.

17. Fighter 11: Eleventh level fighters get another Extra Attack, which stacks, unlike the last one. Figuring out exactly how much hitting you can do now wastes valuable hitting time, but it’s probably a lot.

18. Fighter 12: Use your next ASI to become a Sharpshooter. You can now attack at long range without disadvantage and can ignore anything but full cover. You can also subtract 5 from a ranged attack to add 10 to its damage, just like your melee attacks. Sadly you can’t get extra attacks like GWM, but you’re slapping 30 damage onto attacks happening 300 feet away, so it’s still a good pick.

19. Fighter 13: You get a second use of Indomitable, because sometimes people try the same thing twice. You should know, you’ve tried the same thing (read: stabbing) every time, and it always worked.

20. Fighter 14: Your last level gives you your last ASI. Spend it on Constitution for better saves and some more HP.

Pros:

You’re a well balanced killing machine. Unlike Herc, you don’t have to worry about speedier enemies giving you the runaround when you can just shoot them, and you’re still plenty useful in close quarters combat as well.

Three to six attacks per round times twice as many crits times constant advantage equals a whole lot of dice being thrown around.

Your mental saves (Int, Wis, and Chr)... are terrible. But, you have ways to instantly shut off any charm effects you catch wind of, and multiple rerolls to protect yourself from the occasional banishment.

Cons:

Splitting your attention on both strength and dexterity means you aren’t at the peak of either. Herc can out-sword you, and Robin Hood can out-arrow you. So shoot Heracles and stab Robin.

None of your attacks are magical, so some higher level creatures may be an issue if you’re in a low-magic item setting. Maybe you should find some sort of super cool tactician who can make magical weapons for you. Who knows where you’ll find one of those, though...

Next up: He’s not the rebellion we deserve, but he’s the one we need.

#lu bu fengxian #fgo #fate grand order #dnd 5e #Fate and Phantasms

16 notes · View notes

badacts · 5 years

Note

What about jason and tim bonding?

ah. two idiots hanging out :)

Jason has a delightful collection of black-mold-infested safehouses that he keeps - or doesn’t keep - in some of the worst neighbourhoods in town, but he mostly doesn’t live in them full time. He keeps one more permanent place in Crime Alley, close to where he grew up, and then an apartment in the Upper East.

The doorman probably recognises Tim as he slopes through the lobby and takes the elevator up to the eighteenth floor. Tim pulls his hood a little lower over his eyebrows and hopes for the best.

His reflection in the mirror-lined elevator is a black-clad wraith in a jacket he stole off Bruce ages ago, comfortably oversized, and eyebags bigger than the backpack slung over his shoulder. He avoids meeting his own gaze. Too much like introspection, and he’s had enough of that in the last…lifetime. His whole life.

On second thought, the doorman probably thought he was breaking in.

There’s six apartments on the eighteenth floor, and he knocks at the door of the one labelled ‘B’. There’s a long moment of silence where he considers his next move - leaving, or breaking in. Then the door swings open to reveal Jason in sweats, one hand held just out of view between the doorframe and his body. Probably a knife.

“Drake,” he says, and then pointedly doesn’t put whatever he’s holding down.

“You need a haircut,” Tim says.

Jason’s expression turns from blank to incredulous. “That coming from you?”

“This is a stylistic choice,” Tim says, brushing his fingers over his bangs. “That is a place where small mammals give birth.”

“Wow, okay, is that all you wanted? Because I’m guessing it’s not, and I gotta say that if you did want something else, this probably isn’t the way to go about getting it.”

“I don’t want anything from you,” Tim scoffs instinctively.

By all rights, Jason could slam the door in Tim’s face right then. Of course, he just swings it open further so Tim has a clear view of him putting down the knife with the six-inch blade he was holding on the table. Then he crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow, expectant. Maybe Tim would prefer the door-slamming. That would stop this interaction from continuing, at least.

There is a very long silence. Tim is pretty patient, but he’s not stubborn like Jason is, and he’s got a feeling Jason will make him stand out here all night until he says something.

“CanIstayheretonight,” Tim mutters, examining the middle distance over Jason’s shoulder.

Jason’s expression doesn’t twitch, but he gives off a veritable wave of smugness. “What was that, red?”

Tim says, through his teeth, “Please.”

Jason’s mouth quirks. It looks like he’s just about to reply when his phone rings. He pulls it out of the pocket of his sweats and then flashes the screen at Tim. Apparently ‘dickhead’ is calling.

“Isn’t that a co-inky-dink,” Jason says, answering the phone and holding it between the two of them.

“Hey, Jaybird,” Dick says over the speakerphone. He sounds weary but warm. “Are you already out?”

“What’s it to you?” Jason asks, lounging against the door frame.

“Just wondering if you’ve seen Tim tonight.”

Tim holds up a finger to his lips. And then shakes it furiously to make his point.

Jason grins, holding Tim’s gaze. “Who?”

“Who?” There’s a moment of genuine bemusement from the other end, and then a sigh. “He’s with you right now, isn’t he?”

“I have no idea who you’re talking about, Dickiebird,” Jason says cheerfully, and then hangs up on him.

“He’s going to come straight here,” Tim points out. If there’s anything Dick hates more than his siblings disappearing from his well-meaning and impossibly overbearing presence, it’s knowing he’s being lied to.

“Nah,” Jason says, finally stepping back and gesturing Tim inside the apartment. “The guy’s got some boundaries. When it comes to me, anyhow.”

“Lucky you,” Tim mutters, and then, louder, “Love what you haven’t at all done with the place.”

“I got furniture,” Jason replies, unbothered. “You hungry?”

“No thanks,” Tim says, dropping himself onto the couch, backpack and all. He groans when his collapsed staff jabs him in the kidney. Jason gives him a look and then disappears from the room.

“So, why’d you run away from home?” he calls from out of sight.

“We don’t have to talk,” Tim says, attempting to wriggle himself into a more comfortable position without actually taking his bag off.

“Price of admission, baby bird,” Jason replies. “I don’t get many visitors in civvies. It’s either more interesting or way more boring, and whatever you say determines that.”

“I could put on the uniform, if that worked better.”

“Don’t bother. No way you’re patrolling tonight.”

Tim bristles. “You don’t give me orders.”

“It’s called an observation, idiot,” Jason says. “You’re wearing jeans. You don’t even want to go out. Also, I thought I was the one with anger issues here.”

“Nice to hear you acknowledging your issues,” Tim says sweetly and avoidantly. There are footsteps on the wood floor behind the couch - intentional, Jason may weigh more than two hundred pounds but he’s perfectly capable of moving silently - and then a plate lands on Tim’s stomach.

“Eat,” Jason says, shoving aside one of Tim’s legs so he can sit at the other end of the couch. “Come on. That’s premium peanut butter right there.”

Tim wasn’t hungry, but as soon as he takes his first mouthful of sandwich his stomach snarls. There’s a moment where he wonders if he’s going to throw up, but when he swallows it seems to settle. He says, “Tastes like Jif.”

“Duh,” Jason replies. “You wanna talk about it, or what?”

“No,” Tim growls, and then crams half the sandwich in his mouth at once. Through the bread he mumbles, “Dick is pissing me off.”

Jason nods contemplatively. “He does that. Most irritating guy I ever met.”

“You guys are tight though.” Dick gets on with everyone, that’s just fact. Jason likes four and a half people, and the half is probably Bruce, but Dick definitely counts as a whole person by himself.

“I get on with you better than I do with him,” Jason corrects.

“You shot me,” Tim says.

Jason rolls his eyes. “You gonna hold that against me forever?”

“I’m just making a point!”

“I was crazy as hell, Timbo. You really need to let it go.”

“I have,” Tim says. “...Mostly.”

“You’n’me, we got off to a rough start,” Jason says, which is the understatement of the century and also a hell of a way to describe literal attempted murder. “Dick and I didn’t end our relationship so good. And then I died, which made it complicated. You’re not complicated, though.”

“You’re fucked up,” Tim tells him very frankly. “Can I have another sandwich?”

Jason seems unbothered by this assessment, and a little amused. “No ‘please’ this time?”

“Hit my quota for today when I told Damian to please shut the fuck up.”

“And then you got the ‘being a good teammate and vigilante’ speech from Dick, right?”

“Worse,” Tim says, flopping an arm over his eyes dramatically. As he does it, the empty plate is lifted back on him. “He cornered me later and asked me if I’m okay, because it looks like I’m not sleeping again.”

There’s a snort from the direction of the kitchen. “And are you sleeping, Timothy?”

Tim wriggles down further so he’s lying flat, wriggling free of his backpack and dropping it over the side of the couch. “Jason. I am never sleeping.”

“Right,” Jason replies. A few moments later there’s the click of a plate being set down on the mismatched coffee table in front of the couch. “I’m going out. I’ll set the security before I leave.”

“Cool,” Tim mutters into the back of the couch. “Don’t get killed.”

“Eat your sandwich,” Jason advises, which is the last thing Tim registers before he’s asleep.

#tim drake #jason todd #red robin #red hood #batfam #dc #my fic #prompts #Anonymous #dick grayson #absolutely nothing happens in this fic

202 notes · View notes

evanbuckbuckley118 · 4 years

Text

The Weight Of Uncertainty

I’m back! Here is a fic that wasn’t requested, but was born out of my need to write something that accompanies the past episode. Enjoy!

Summary: Athena needs a ride home from the hospital and everyone is unavailable...except Buck. [This fic includes some family feels, and a well needed conversation about what’s next for Athena, and how Athena and Buck feels following her assault. This is a missing/additional scene for 3x17]

Word Count: 3658

Cross-posted to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24061786

It was safe to say the past few weeks had been...unexpected.

Athena never would have guessed that she would have found the serial rapist by following her hunch to check the storage units, nor would she have guessed that her decision to follow that lead would result in watching her own daughter's prom from the comfort of a hospital bed. That wasn't to say she would do anything differently, she was proud put an end to that psychopath's tirade. There just was a part of her that was exhausted from the entire ordeal.

Today was the day they were finally going to spring her. She'd been counting down the days, eager to recover in the comfort of her own home. Her body still seemed to scream out protests to her every movement, but this wasn't the first time Athena had been injured on the job, and she knew from experience that her ribs might never feel quite the same again. They would mend, but the bones will carry the same scars that her mind did - another permanent souvenir of a time she brushed with the reaper once again and won.

Athena wished silently that Bobby was still here with her. Early this morning, Harry had phoned saying he missed the bus to school. Being it was still early in the morning - Michael wasn't answering his phone, May had an exam this morning and couldn't skip or be late, and any of the family members from the 118 were still on shift for a few more minutes (working tirelessly to give their Captain time to spend with his recovering wife). Athena felt greedy watching Bobby leave to give Harry a ride after being spoiled by his devoted attention for the past few days. Yet, it also warmed her heart knowing how much he cared for their children.

While she thought the hospital wouldn't spring her until later that afternoon, about five minutes after Bobby left they'd already begun the process needed to get her out of here. She'd phoned Bobby, but the traffic echoed behind his worried voice saying he'd be longer than expected.

"There is just a few more pieces of paperwork Sergeant Grant, and then you'll be free to go," the nurse began explaining. "We expect to see you back in a few weeks for a check-up and to revisit your stitches and x-rays. You are on orders to rest, with as little physical exertion as possible."

"I understand," Athena said stoically. Even getting her shoes on a moment ago had felt like a gigantic task. While Athena was in the best shape of her life, her injuries from the assault and the days spent recovering here had completely wiped out any previous endurance she'd possessed. Being winded from tying a shoelace was not normal, much less worthy of praise or accomplishment. To make matters worse, her mostly dominant arm was also in a sling for the foreseeable future, complicating a number of previously easy tasks.

"We don't recommend driving in your condition yet, do you have someone to get you home safely?"

Opening her mouth to explain that she'd have to wait around a bit longer for her ride, or call for an Uber - Athena was cut off by the loud screech of a shoe abruptly skidding to a halt along the hospital floor.

"I came as fast as I could," Buck panted, out of breath with a large mischievous smile quirking up the left edge of his lips. "I'm her ride."

The nurses eyebrows were high as she took in the sight of Buck, who looked as disheveled as he usually did after a long shift. His hair curled and still damp, suggesting a quick shower with little care to drying off (almost like Harry when he was younger and insisted he could do it himself, only to have Athena run a second towel through his locks to ensure he wouldn't drip all over the house). The bags under his eyes betrayed his blinding smile.

Athena just sighed. "Buck, while I appreciate the thought, you are coming off a 24-hour shift. You know exhaustion can count as impaired driving just as much as alcohol, right?"

"Nonsense, it wasn't a busy shift," Buck argued despite the fact Athena would catch him in the obvious lie. There was no such thing as a slow shift for first responders in Los Angeles. He waved a hand dismissively "besides, Bobby called me and told me you don't have any other options."

Athena signed the remainder of the paperwork in her hands, and passed it back to the nurse who left quietly with a slight nod. "Just know if you break any traffic laws while I'm riding in that damn death trap Jeep of yours - I'll still tell my colleagues to write you a ticket."

Buck stepped into the room, and grabbed Athena's bag without being told. Slinging it over his shoulder and extending a hand out for Athena to grasp for support as she stands, he says "I guess you can take the officer out of the uniform, but not the uniform out of the officer."

Athena is ready to give Buck an eye roll so intense it might be audible, or at least chastise him for the profoundly cheesy remark - but her breath is stolen in a pained gasp as she stands and her bones right themselves into an upright position. She squeezes Buck's hand that she'd been using in a tight pulse, closing her eyes and swallowing tightly against the sudden onset of pain.

Just like recovery always happens, the pain ebbs into a dull and manageable ache. When she opens her eyes, Buck is right there in front of her, his grip on her hand providing a strength Athena draws from. "Hey, are you okay? Should I get the doctor?"

Nodding sharply, Athena finds her voice even if it is raspy. "I'm fine, just a bit sore. I want to go home Buck."

Buck offered twice on their slow journey to the vehicle to get Athena a wheelchair, but Athena refused. As long as she took these short steps one at a time, she could do this. If the sound of her ragged breath rattling fast out of her mouth due to exhaustion bothered Buck, he didn't say a word. The man's long legs had to ache to take longer strides at a faster pace, but he kept in line with Athena, muttering small encouragements for only her ears the entire way. "Almost there...you can do it...that's it...good..."

Once they'd reached the Jeep, Athena saw a glaring problem. The step to get into the tall vehicle was going to require an immense effort that Athena didn't have left.

Before she could voice her distress, Buck leaned Athena against the Jeep muttered something about needing "...one moment." He reached into the trunk and pulled out a small step stool, no doubt borrowed from the station. Placing it in front of the running board, he pointed at the set up he created and let out a small proud giggle. "See? I'm sorry there is no liftgate, but now we just have three small steps instead of one giant one!"

Athena's insistent pride wanted to be mad this solution because it felt so childlike. But the only other foreseeable option was having Buck lift her in, and that would only damage her ego further. Buck must have known that; and instead, the thoughtful man in front of her (that she often thought of like a son) had gone out of his way to think of the best possible solution to this minuscule problem. The fact that Buck had thought ahead about how to make this process as painless as possible for her, even with the short preparation time he must have been given from Bobby's sudden request, warmed her heart.

"Thank you, Buck," she said earnestly.

Buck had stopped on the way back to the Grant household to pick up some regular strength Tylenol from the drugstore. While he'd been in the check-out line, he'd realized that while the hospital no doubt would have wanted to give Athena a prescription for stronger pain medication, she'd probably refused. Whether she thought she could handle it on her own, or didn't want to bring any temptation around for her stressed husband, Buck didn't know. What he did know from his own experience is that after getting some sleep, she was going to be in a world of pain. So despite Athena's protests that he didn't have to make this stop, this was the least he could do.

He'd taken care to drive like a true gentleman. Buck avoided all the potholes, didn't speed, took the corners at a below reasonable speed to avoid any extra jostling. Once they'd arrived to the empty and quiet house, Buck had maneuvered Athena to bedroom, and aided her in getting settled and comfortable with an extra blanket from the cupboard. His hands itched to provide more help.

Buck patted her foot twice and began to leave, "I'll go make you some tea."

"You really don't have to do that Buck, please don't fuss over me," she protested.

"I don't have to," Buck acknowledged. With a passionate voice and a less passionate shrug, he continued. "I want to. You and Bobby took such good care of me after my leg was crushed, let me return the favor."

A silence fell over the room. Athena was stunned by his generosity, but also by the fact she could hear hurt and worry in his voice. Was he alright?

Before she could ask about his well being, Buck was already gone. He'd left the room, and she heard the tea kettle settle on the stove top. The space between them gave Athena a moment to think. It wasn't often Athena caught Buck at a vulnerable moment, as she did spend less time around him than her husband did. While the pair of them thought of Buck as a son, that also meant the worries that came with having children in your life extended to him. Athena would be lying if she said she didn't care for the boy in a parental way, especially after all the man had gone through in the past year. She worried about his mental state, especially because it seemed that Buck always put on such an enthusiastic front. From experience, she knew it made things difficult to tell when Buck was truly happy from when he was only feigning the emotion to mask darker feelings. It was little clues in his voice and facial features that betrayed him if Athena looked quick enough.

Athena heard Buck shuffle around to get the mugs as the kettle began to hiss. She tracked the sound of his footsteps around her kitchen, noticing they paused for a moment. There was a ruffle of paper, and another period of silence. The footsteps then resumed, and there was Buck in the doorway of her bedroom. He made no move to enter the space. There was a mug of steaming tea in one hand, a tri-folded letter in the other.

"They're giving you a commendation?" Buck asked, looking at the letter and then back at Athena. "I swear I didn't mean to overstep and read your mail, it was sitting on the table and I just got worried-"

"Yes Buck," Athena said to pause his rambling. "Not sure what good it does, but they are giving it to me anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't do this job for the acknowledgements Buck. No commendation can fix those victim's lives and what happened to them. No commendation guarantees that justice will be served to the man who did this..." Athena paused, and wanting to shift the focus off herself and onto Buck in an attempt to get him to open up. "No commendation heals the fear I still see in my family's eyes as they worry unnecessarily about me and are haunted with new traumatic memories."

"Yeah, I know Bobby and the kids have taken this really hard," Buck moves into the room, handing off the tea to Athena and resting the letter on her dresser.

After a long sip of the soothing liquid, Athena places it to the side. She grabs at Buck's hand weakly and tugs on it as a silent plea for him to sit. "And you."

"What? Me?" He shakes his head fervently. "No-"

"Yes, you. You are my family too, Buck."

"I'm fine, Athena," He says, but the voice is small. Buck is doing a poor job convincing Athena, and from the way his eyes well up and he bows his head to the floor, he isn't convincing himself either.

"Is that why your hands are shaking? Why your looking at me like I'm going to break? Why your fussing around the house looking for ways to be helpful?"

Athena knew from her training that in any traumatic incident, there was never just one victim. The secondary traumatization of crime can be felt by bystanders, witnesses, family, even strangers who hear about it later. Worse, often these people don't feel supported or feel that they have a right to feel the emotions that come with such trauma because they weren't directly effected or impacted. For all that Buck has done for her today, Athena is determined to sit here and give Buck a safe space to discuss his feelings.

"I don't think you fully understand how badly you scared us...and me," Buck began. Athena appreciated his honesty already. "When we got the call from dispatch...I don't like feeling powerless, and it was all I could feel. We were listening to you fighting back, but we had no eyes on you. Without a visual, we didn't know if you were grunting from the exertion of winning, or the pain of losing. There was nothing I could do but sit as we drove towards you in hopes we wouldn't be too late. There was nothing I could do as I watched Bobby spiral into thinking how he might lose his wife for a second time. There was nothing I could do as I watched the team prepare themselves for the worst. I was preparing myself to have to tell Harry and May and Michael about how hard you fought to get back to them, even if it wasn't enough, because I knew Bobby would be too devastated to do it if anything serious happened to you. The gunshot rang out over our radio, and there was nothing I could do to make it better Athena-"

Buck explanation ran short, as he felt overcome with emotion. He was gripping Athena's hand now in a role reversal from only a few hours earlier. Athena squeezed back, grounding him from a panic attack or flashback. Silently, she hoped it gave him strength as much as it reinforced him he wasn't alone.

"I know you felt powerless Buck, and I'm sorry you had to go through that experience. I know you felt like you couldn't and didn't do anything, but I want you to know that the thought of my family is what kept me fighting," Athena explained. "The memories of my love for all of you, and all the things we haven't yet done together, that's what kept me going. You did do something Buck, the love you've shown my family and me was part of the reason I kept going. You did that."

Buck sniffed back the last of his tears, putting on that strong front that Athena knows is there to protect in times like this when he feels most exposed. "I just wish I could have done more for you, Athena."

Sensing that Buck wants to shift away from this conversation, and because exhaustion is pulling at her to wrap it up as well, Athena smiles widely. "Well, you've already made a pretty good start, but I do have one thing you can do for me Buck."

That seemed to do the trick, he was already perking up as his head snapped up and his eyes went wide. He smiled softly, and Athena thought to how once over drinks Hen described Buck like a golden retriever. She had to admit, the resemblance was uncanny. Buck was always willing to give so much of himself to others. Later, Athena might finish their previous discussion with him in more depth. She does want to talk to him about therapy and caring for himself better, but right now she pushes those worries aside. "Anything you need, I can do it," he says, ready for action.

"You can stay right here Buck, and take a nap with me until Bobby gets home," Athena explained. She carefully shuffled a little more over to the side, exposing the open side of the bed as Buck sputtered over his protest.

"N-no, Athena. I can't do that, you need to rest without distraction or someone else moving the bed around, and I really should be getting back to my apartment-"

"You have just come off a long shift taking care of people, only to have to take care of a poor injured woman, and now you expect me to let you drive back to that shell of a place when you are practically dead on your feet? I'll worry less and get a better sleep if you stay here."

"I'll take the couch then Athena-"

"-Buck, don't argue with me. That couch does no favors for anyone's back, and the firehouse can't be down another member. Just lie down here, for at least one hour. Bobby will be back by then, and then you can leave."

Buck was still as he sat on the bed, contemplating his options. He must have realized there was no arguing with her by now, because for all he tried to put up a fight, he began to move towards getting settled. It took some time, but he was growing to learn that Athena is always right. "Just for a little while," he submits conditionally.

The man rounds to the other side of the bed and attempts to lay down without moving the bed as much as possible. The whole ordeal leaves him looking stiff as a board, facing away, which just won't do. Athena huffs, and immediately tugs on his shoulder until he rolls onto his other side, at which point Athena guides his head to her shoulder. Looping her free arm around his body as if he were a child, Buck finally relaxes.

She really was tired, more so than she'd admit to anyone. Within seconds, she felt herself nodding off towards a deep slumber.

Which of course means that Buck has to choose this moment to speak up again.

"Are you going back after this Athena?"

It was a statement more than a question; yet, the puzzling part was that as much as Athena tried to read into Buck's emotive voice, she couldn't place what emotion came with it. She opened one eye to peer down at Buck, but his normally expressive face was blank as he peered up at her curiously. "Bobby mentioned you were feeling conflicted about returning to the job after your medical leave," he offered as an afterthought to Athena's silence.

Bobby had told Buck the truth. Athena didn't know if it was just a knee jerk fear reaction after a traumatic event, or if she really was feeling ready to retire from policing. She was conflicted, confused, unsure how to move forward after this particular event. Her thirty years on the force and everything that came with it made the decision that much harder. It seemed like all she had time to do lately was think, but she was no closer to making this decision about her future.

"I honestly don't know."

Sleep was pulling fast at the both of them despite the conversation, but Buck continued on. His voice was only laced with exhaustion as it faded in volume. "After my accident, all I wanted was to get back. But that's because being a firefighter was my entire identity. I know policing is a big part of yours, but you also have other factors I don't. And you have a family, and Bobby, and the 118. I'm not trying to pull you towards a certain decision," he assured, and Athena believed him. "I'm completely impartial on this decision. It is yours and yours alone to make. I'm just letting you know that you will still be you, no matter your occupation Athena. To leave or to stay, or to take a small leave and then stay, the choice is yours. No matter what you choose Athena, you'll be supported either way by everyone. We just want you to be happy."

Athena was back to a stunned silence. Even though Buck's words in no way helped her clear the fog surrounding her decision, it did ease a part of her. She was always worried about what others think, from her mother to her family. The opinions of those around her always pulled her one way or another. It was a comfort to have it said aloud that this was a decision she gets to make for herself. Even though she knew her family would support her regardless, it was reassuring and nice to hear it once in a while; especially from her surrogate son.

"Thank you, Buck."

The reply fell on deaf ears, Buck's breathing already evened out in a pattern that signaled the beginning stages of sleep. Athena was all to happy to follow suit, feeling more relaxed than she had in a long time.

And if when Bobby came home to the sight of his wife and son getting some well needed and deserved rest together and decided to let them sleep the day away until dinner was ready, no one else needed to know.

#my writing #118 fire fam #found family #Athena Grant #Evan Buckley #evan buck buckley #evanbuckbuckley118 #911 show #911 fanfic #911 fic #911 fanfiction #911 fox #911onfox

14 notes · View notes

skepticalcatfrog · 4 years

Text

Among The Stars Chapter 5

First Chapter Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Summary: Logan Watts is a famous scientist, known by almost everyone in the galaxy. His most famous invention is his friend and assistant, a healthcare android named Patton. When they are called to another planet for a meeting with the local ruler, they're expecting a completely normal trip. Little did they know, this trip would send them into a daring adventure to protect their galaxy and stop a war. Teamed up with unlikely friends, including a runaway gladiator and an infamous crime trio, Logan and Patton have to figure out how to make peace and save their universe (and beyond) from being destroyed.

Pairings: (Eventual) Logicality, Prinxiety, and Demus

Word count: 3,379

Author's Notes: As I said in the notes on the first chapter of my other fic, I will still be continuing this one. So as promised, here's the next chapter!

Dalton and Remus sat outside of Logan's lab on opposite sides of the door. Remus was just waiting, but Dalton was eavesdropping, his ear pressed to the door as he listened to the conversation going on inside the room. Logan and Virgil had been in there for a while, presumably working on repairs. But Dalton didn't trust this guy just yet. He wanted to make sure Virgil was okay.

"Dalton, he'll be fine. Better than he was before, even." Remus assured him.

"Shh." Dalton snapped at him, bringing his index finger to his lips. "I need to be ready to step in if things go wrong."

Remus rolled his eyes. Dalton could be so stubborn. Once he was doing something, there was nothing that could stop him from doing it. Sometimes it worked in his favor, and sometimes it didn't.

Dalton could barely hear anything. He could tell when different people were talking, but that was about it. He kept on listening though, just in case. He was entirely prepared to punch that scientist right in his stupid pretentious face if it came to that. He was also prepared to do it even if it didn't come to that. He didn't like that guy.

~~~

Virgil was sitting on a metal table in the middle of Logan's lab. It was all clean and orderly, unlike his usual surroundings. Based on everything he'd heard about doctor's offices, this seemed like the closest he'd ever get to being in one. It wasn't very comfortable, plus all of the circuitry on his arm was currently completely exposed. And he was totally conscious too, since most androids couldn't feel pain. Logan was muttering to himself as he worked on altering the wiring. Patton wasn't there, because he didn't want to watch. He said that it would've been like a human watching a surgeon operating on another human.

"This is almost done, and once I finish I'd like you to try to move your arm." Logan requested. He knew Virgil couldn't respond, but he just wanted to make sure he knew what to do. "That way I can see if this method of repair works. Your circuitry isn't particularly new, as you may have noticed, so many of my more traditional approaches to this issue wouldn't have worked." He went quiet for a couple minutes. "Alright. Can you please lift your arm?"

Logan closed the panel of metal on Virgil's arm, taking a step back. The android shakily lifted up his arm. It was the first time he'd moved in years, so he was pretty out of practice. The machinery made a loud buzzing sound as it moved. Virgil's eyes widened at the noise. Hopefully that wouldn't stick around.

"Okay, good. We'll come back to that later now that we know it works, for now let's get to work on some slightly smaller jobs." Logan wrote down a couple of notes on a piece of paper. "Try to speak, please."

Virgil did try to speak, and it went exactly as it always did. He heard the familiar creaking and rattling of his broken voice box, and Logan took another note.

"I think I know what's wrong." He discarded the paper on to a nearby desk. "A piece of your voice box must have come loose. Luckily, we won't need to replace it entirely. I am going to need to shut you down for this part, because it will be a much more complicated process. I might also fix a few other things after I finish this."

The world dropped into blackness quickly once Virgil was shut down. He'd never really experienced that before. His thoughts came to a halt, the world went away, and everything went quiet. It was like being in a locked room with no windows while wearing noise cancelling headphones. Either that, or it was like being temporarily dead. It didn't feel like any time had passed at all before he regained consciousness. He was still sitting on the same table, in the same room, but something was definitely different. Logan immediately got back to talking.

"I think we've made some new developments on your condition. I fixed the issues with your voice box, which we'll be testing in a moment. Other than that, you should be able to move your head now as well." He told him. Virgil's curiosity kicked in and he turned his head to the left and right, then looked up and down. He really could move his head again. Logan handed him the paper he'd been taking notes on before. "Please read the first few sentences aloud."

"Tests on android #229187922 ("Virgil") have proven successful." Virgil spoke, saying each word slowly. He gasped. He was talking. "He appears to have been made over twenty years ago, however the exact date is unknown. A piece of his voice box has been knocked loose, maybe from faulty construction and/or a fall."

"Good." Logan took the paper back. "How do you feel?"

"Different, that's for sure. Definitely good different, though." Virgil smiled. He had forgotten what his own voice sounded like.

"Perfect, that's exactly how you should be feeling." Logan nodded. "Would you like to talk with Remus and Dalton?"

"Yes." Virgil nodded. He might not be able to walk yet, but the progress Logan had made on his repairs already would be enough for them.

Logan walked over to the door and opened it, which prompted Dalton to fall to the floor at his feet. He'd been listening to them, Logan knew for sure. Not only was he a criminal, but he was a distrustful one as well. Logan kept his composure, ignoring the small bit of frustration growing inside him.

"You may come in. Virgil wants to speak with you." Logan told them, turning around and walking back to the table.

"Okay, great. Thanks for helping me up by the way. Jerk." Dalton muttered the last part so no one could hear it. He got up and dusted himself off, speed-walking to the table. Remus followed him. His tone softened a little when he reached Virgil. "Hey, bud. How are you doing?"

"I'm doing great." Virgil said, offering a small smile.

All Dalton could do was stare. After years of stealing and trespassing to get things to help Virgil, breaking almost every law there was, today was the day. He pulled Virgil into a hug, just holding on to him for a minute. And for the first time, the android could hug him back. Just that simple action made Dalton burst into tears. Remus put a supportive hand on his back.

"You're getting better." Dalton pulled back and laughed weakly, wiping the tears from his face.

"Slowly but surely." Virgil nodded. Logan stood off to the side, knowing that he should just let them have their moment.

"And that's what your voice sounds like, huh? Different from how I heard it in my head, but not bad." Remus decided.

"Glad you think so, because there's no changing it without a lot more work." Virgil laughed.

"No, no, I like it. It suits you." Remus smiled.

"Agreed." Dalton nodded. "So what else is done?"

"I can move my arms and my head, but I can't walk yet." Virgil told them. "Hopefully soon, though."

"Yes, if I've calculated it correctly, the repairs should be finished by the end of the day." Logan stepped back in. "I will be able to fix all of your physical malfunctions. However, the glitch in your coding may be permanent. I can't access your programming from my computer, because there's an identification password protecting it."

"Oh… well that's okay, I guess." Virgil was clearly disappointed, but he tried to hide it. "I've lived with it for this long, so it's not a big deal."

"You're sure there's no way to fix it?" Dalton raised his eyebrow.

"Have you tried hacking the computer to get past the password? Or maybe giving it a virus on purpose?" Remus asked as if Logan would really take that as an actual suggestion.

"No, I haven't, and I don't plan to." Logan shot him a look similar to one a class clown would get from a strict teacher. "Now I'm afraid that's all the time I can give you. I need to get back to work. You can still wait outside if you'd like, but you can't be here anymore."

"Fine. But call us back in when you're done." Dalton did the universal sign for 'I'm watching you' at Logan, then walked out of the room with Remus following close behind. He heard the door close behind them, and suddenly felt very nervous once again. He knew that feeling wouldn't go away until all of the repairs were finished, so he just had to wait it out.

~~~

Meanwhile, since Patton didn't want to be in the lab, he'd decided to get to know Roman a little better. They were walking around the hallways in the lower level of the ship, asking each other questions back and forth.

"How long have you lived on this ship?" Roman asked.

"I would say about… seven years? The first thing I remember is Logan's home planet, Isethena. It's entirely man-made, built by humans a few centuries ago. We lived there for three years, then moved to a smaller ship and lived there for four years." Patton explained, trying to recall every place he'd ever lived from memory. "When Logan started to get more famous, we started to get more money. When we could afford this ship, we got it, and have been living here since then."

"Wow. I honestly wasn't expecting you to go into that much detail, but I'm impressed." Roman looked around, but the entire hallway looked exactly the same.

"I'm an android, I have great memory." Patton laughed. "What about you? What's your story?"

"It's a long one, that's for sure." Roman was about to go deeper into the web of lies he'd created for himself and he knew it. But to be honest, he didn't really care anymore. Even if it wasn't true, this was who he wanted to be, so why shouldn't he let other people believe it was real? "For basically my whole life, I lived on Xialea VI. It was all beautiful, with a kingdom covering most of the planet. Whatever wasn't kingdom was forest, with beautiful trees and plants growing everywhere. Basically it was the exact opposite of Xialea VII. I grew up preparing to take on the crown, which I never got to do. I spent pretty much all day either studying in the library or training in the arena. My parents loved me. I'm an only child, so I got all the attention. They were always so proud and supportive of everything I did, and they were always there for me when I needed them. Everyone in the kingdom was happy, and no one ever wanted to leave. But then one day, a couple of months ago, I was sent to the city on Xialea VII to have a conference with the president. Apparently they thought I was an intruder, so they chased me away. I had no choice but to steal a ship and get away, or else I would've been killed."

"You could've just asked, you know!" Patton pointed out. "Logan probably would've helped you, even if I wasn't there with him. He's a good person."

"I know, I don't doubt that, I just wasn't in the mood to take risks." Roman shook his head. Then he decided that he wanted to test something. "Speaking of taking risks, do you want to hear a fun story from a few years ago?"

"Sure. I'm always in the mood for a good story." Patton smiled.

"Well, it all started when a ship crash-landed just outside my kingdom. The person inside wasn't too badly hurt, but he definitely had a few bruises. We asked him who he was, and he told us he was a prince from another planet. We let him stay with us for a little while, and gave him a way to get back home. But, it turned out that he was lying all along! He was actually a gladiator, and had run away from his home planet. He told us he was just sick of that place, and he couldn't go back. After all, he was technically a criminal, and he definitely would've been punished upon his return." Roman was relieved. Patton seemed very interested in the story, and he didn't seem to realize that Roman was telling a story about himself.

"So what did you do?" The android asked, his eyes widening.

"Well, we let him stay." Roman shrugged. "He was a good person trying to get out of a bad situation, and we couldn't blame him for that even though he'd lied to us."

"That was a good choice." Patton decided. "I think I would've let him stay too. It would just be mean to make him leave."

"I agree, trust me." Roman nodded. It was working. Patton was on his side, even if he didn't know it yet.

~~~

It took hours until Virgil's repairs were finally finished. The whole time, Dalton was waiting outside the door of the lab like a nervous parent. At one point he was just pacing back and forth until he got tired. Remus was starting to get worried. Sure, Dalton always wanted Virgil to be safe, but he'd never been this concerned. The second Logan opened the door, Dalton was interrogating him.

"How is he? Tell us what you know, scientist!" If looks could kill, Dalton's scowl would have Logan dead on the ground in an instant.

"He is doing well." Logan managed to keep his cool. "I managed to fix his legs, so he will be able to walk. I also gave him a defense mechanism. Be aware of that, because he doesn't have full control over it yet. Otherwise, he should be fully awake and recovered."

"You should've led with that!" Dalton pushed past Logan to get into the lab. Remus followed him. The first thing they saw was Virgil. And he was standing up.

"Would you look at that…" Remus muttered.

"Hey guys!" Virgil waved, revealing a dark circle in the palm of his hand. "Hold on, watch this."

He aimed his hand at what looked like a makeshift target. A sound that was sort of like a vacuum cleaner rang out, then a beam of purple light shot from his hand. The target disintegrated. He turned back to Dalton and Remus.

"Holy shit." Dalton stared at the place where the target used to be. He glanced at Logan. "I don't know if that's a good idea."

"He needs a mode of self defense. Based on the way he was built, he wasn't meant to be a fighter. But in your line of work, if that is how you would describe it, he will likely be getting into many dangerous situations." Logan explained. "With all due respect, he wouldn't last five minutes in a battle."

"Yeah, that's why he doesn't go on missions with us." Dalton said as if it was obvious. "We protect him by keeping him at home. Plus, do you have any idea how easy it would be for him to hurt himself with a weapon like that?"

"Actually, the chances of me hurting myself with this are only 15%." Virgil piped up. Dalton held up his hand.

"Not now, Virgil." He scowled, still focused on Logan. "I want you to make it less dangerous. Like, put a safety setting on it or something."

Logan shook his head. "I'm not sure I'll be able to-"

Suddenly, the entire ship shook. Virgil looked around frantically, trying to find the source of the movement. Logan froze. He didn't know what to do. Dalton immediately went into a fighting stance. Remus ran to the window, tapping on it rapidly when he saw what was outside. Whatever it was, he was absolutely mesmerized by it. "You guys, you've got to come see this!"

Dalton was the first to the window. Logan and Virgil joined him soon after. Outside, there were two gigantic ships, which appeared to be shooting at each other. Neither of them were particularly accurate in their shots, so a stray projectile must've been the source of the shaking. Without warning, one of them exploded, flooding the lab with orange light. Roman and Patton burst through the door to the lab. Roman's heavy breathing made it clear that they'd been running.

"Does anyone know what just happened?" Patton asked.

"There were some ships outside fighting each other, and one of them just blew up!" Remus explained, making a gesture with his hands that was meant to represent the explosion.

"They appeared to be built for war." Logan's brow furrowed in thought, his eyes still intently focused on the remaining ship. "Patton? Do you think that maybe the president of Xialea VII wasn't kidding about starting a war?"

"Starting a war?! He never said anything about a war." Roman's eyes widened in shock as he looked at the remains of the exploded ship. Then he realized that everyone was staring at him. He tried to think of something else to say. "In the time that I was there, that is. It was very brief, I wouldn't trust anything I say."

"Okay…" Dalton raised his eyebrow. That hint of suspicion didn't do anything to help Roman's nerves. "But why would he want to start a war anyway?"

"It could be lots of things." Virgil shrugged. "For resources, for land, to settle an argument. All we know for sure is that it definitely won't end well."

"Wait, you can talk now?" Roman fixed his confused gaze on Virgil.

"Clearly, but that's not what we're talking about right now." Remus answered for him. "How fast can this ship go? Maybe we could get out of this galaxy before it gets so messed up that it self-destructs."

"We can't just leave! What about all the innocent people?" Patton was quick to shoot down that idea.

"Well it's not like we can fight." Remus pointed out. "There are only six of us, so I think packing our bags and leaving is our best bet. Unless anyone else has a better idea."

"What if… what if we did fight?" Roman suggested. The rest of them fell silent. If he didn't have everyone's attention before, he sure did now.

"And how exactly do you suggest we do that?" Logan raised his eyebrows. "We don't necessarily have a government to collaborate with."

"Hey, what about your kingdom?" Patton suggested. Roman tensed up.

"No, that won't work. They're peaceful, they wouldn't want to engage in a battle like this." He was impressed with his ability to think of such a quick lie. "Logan, do you have a map I could look at?"

"Of course." Logan tapped at what looked like a smart watch on his wrist. Within seconds, a three dimensional model of the galaxy appeared in the air.

"If that's where we are now… and that's Xialea VII…" Roman muttered to himself as he examined the map. He pointed to a very small planet near the edge of the map. "Aha! That planet, since it's so far away from everyone else, shouldn't be involved in anything yet. Let's get a closer look at it."

As if activated by his voice, the map zoomed in on the planet. Columns of information appeared beside it. Unlike Xialea VII, this planet was covered entirely in buildings. Despite its size, it had a lot of people living on it. But what they were really focused on was the fact that it had a king.

"Its name is Illathea." Logan read from the list of information. "They seem to be neutral as of right now, so perhaps we'll be able to get to them before they make a final decision about which side they're on."

Reading further down on the list, they were met with the amount of time it would take to get there. 21 days, 4 hours, 12 minutes, 40 seconds. They were all speechless.

Finally, Remus decided that someone needed to break the silence. "So, when are we leaving?"

Taglist: @idkwhyimhere0o0 @icequeenoriginal @mostpeopleannoyne @007ardra @logan-is-my-spirit-animal @multifandomnightmare

#sanders sides #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts deceit #ts roman #ts remus #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #logicality #prinxiety #demus #fanfic #scifi #among the stars au

34 notes · View notes

livingintheworldofstories · 4 years

Text

Humany-Wumany (part 2 / 2)

Pairing: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor x Rose Tyler Genre: angst with a happy ending Summary: The Doctor is determined he will be excellent at humaning, but then, he's known for succumbing to hubris every now and then. And he'll try to win Rose Tyler's heart when she's still longing for the Time Lord version of him - though even he knows that might be a hopeless endeavour, doomed to fail from the start. ao3: Humany-Wumany Part 1: Humany-Wumany (part 1 / 2) *** One of the things the Doctor has always loved about humans is their unwavering optimism. And it really is hard to keep at bay. Suddenly, he can see the future again. Rose Tyler will be there. The rest is just specifics.

It’s scary how much he wants it. And has wanted it, for such a long time. His favorite scents: morning breath, her strawberry shampoo, slow-dripping coffee. When laughter over the breakfast table blends into a hand held under the dinner table blends into a life lived happily. Each glittering moment of human ordinariness has become unbearably precious. The universe is his to lose.

“What’s put you in such a good mood?” Rose asks him on his third day nearly human after he’s come into the dining room humming under his breath. She looks beautiful in her tiredness, her unkempt hair falling into her eyes.

Sleep would come more easily if she was right next to him.

“Egg warmers,” he declares confidently, even though it’s just the first thing that pops in his head. “Fascinating human invention. Small egg with a hat, imagine that! Do you have egg warmers somewhere?” He looks into the direction of the kitchen counters, but Rose shakes her head.

“Mum’s not really much for knitting.”

The Doctor pulls a disappointed face. He assesses the tragic situation on the breakfast table: two poor eggs in egg cups, both hatless.

“What’s the point of eggs if not to put little hats on them?”

He grabs a banana from the basket of non-fake fruits. He perches himself up on the table, right next to Rose’s egg.

“So I’ve been thinking,” he starts. Rose watches him over the rim of her coffee mug. “I should practice being human, now that I’m, y’know, human…”

Rose is sending him a slow look, probably wondering where he is going with this. Which he is, of course! He’s always going somewhere.

“Now, tables, if you think about it, are really terribly boring.” “Maybe that’s because you’ve been using it as a chair this whole time,” she counters and kicks at his foot.

“You’re right, chairs are even more boring. Terrible concept, really. Luckily, humans have this great other invention – where they eat food on the ground, no tables or chairs anywhere involved. How brilliant is that?”

“You mean… a picnic?” “Exactly! A picnic! What a great name, rolls off the tongue. Let’s have a big picnic in a tic!” “That’ll do the trick,” Rose says. She seems amused.

“So you’re on board? Later today, picnic?” “What, are you telling me you are preparing food?” She doesn’t sound overly excited at the prospect, maybe even a little horrified.

“Oh yes. Great food-preparer, me. Or, well…” He hesitates, remembering the kitchen incident. “If it doesn’t involve any heating processes. Or knives. Or a complicated assortment of spices. Or an uncomplicated one. And come to think of it, do you think Jackie could be persuaded to let me into the kitchen again?”

“Lucky for you, you have the right connections,” she smirks at him. For a moment, he blinks, uncomprehending.

“Oh! Right.” It’s a good feeling that fills his chest with warmth. To think that they’re in this together. “So we got a deal, then, associate?”

“You bet we do,” Rose grins, “I can’t wait to see your second attempt at permanently destroying the kitchen.” The Doctor, of course, takes great offense. “Hey! Have you got no faith in me?” “When it comes to cooking?” Rose leans back in her chair. “None at all.”

“That barely counts as cooking,” the Doctor says, because he is an amazing hair-splitter when he wants to be. “Which I could be great at, by the way, if I had a little bit of practice.”

“No doubt about it,” Rose says and gets up from her chair to walk away into the kitchen.

“You don’t sound like you believe that,” the Doctor calls after her indignantly. He can hear her snicker. “Rose?” She’s laughing at him again. “Rose!”

But it’s fine. She’s warming up to him. He knows so far all his attempts at being normal have failed miserably, but at least she isn’t fed up with it yet. She’s still giving him chances. But it’s incredibly difficult to gauge how many he has left. Before it becomes clear to her that this is not working. That he may be impressive saving worlds and traveling through space and time, but that, when it comes to being human, he’s a lost cause. She might realize soon that she’ll be better off with someone who’s genuinely human. Zero percent Time Lord. One hundred percent suited for a domestic life. Not like he is. He is unused to this feeling of inferiority. Usually it’s the other way around. He’d often have to argue that his head was perfectly normal sized and not in the least too big for his body. But now… What good is being able to operate a highly complex space ship from, say, the 67th century, when you can’t even operate a laundry machine? Who, in a small corner of London, will be dazzled by his ability to speak dozens of alien languages, when none of these alien races will even make contact with earth for several centuries or longer? They were downright ludicrous, really, the accusations of his other self – born out of blood and anger and revenge. Born in fire. All he can set on fire is the kitchen. The bloody Oncoming Storm raging through a mansion on earth, oh, what a threat he makes. The universe shall shudder in fear when he takes his gruesome revenge on the dish washer for not cleaning all the dishes properly.

It’s all alright though, all okay, so long as he focuses on the task at hand. He’ll show this world that he can make a mean sandwich, if not much else. *** Rose tips back her head when she laughs, which exposes her throat, which is beautiful to look at. Her hair glows brightly in the sun. It’s so easy to forget all the things that are wrong if this one thing is right.

They are sitting on a blanket in a park close to the mansion. Rose had picked the spot. Before they’d left, she’d asked him: “Well, where do you want to go?” “I don’t know anything about this universe,” he’d said, “you lead the way.” And then she’d taken his hand, his cursed, magical hand that had once been fully Time Lord. And now they were eating his carefully prepared sandwiches, which she seemed to like – all according to a nefarious plan of his own making. (Ha, take that, other Doctor.)

“So there’s no Eiffel tower in this universe?” he asks.

“Nope,” she says.

So they couldn’t visit the most romantic spot of the so-called City of Love in this universe. Of course, in all the universe, there are far more romantic spots he could have taken her, but now that they are earth-bound, it is a bit of a bummer. But then again… She probably wouldn’t want to go with him now anyway.

“I suppose,” he begins, suddenly somber, “there are some things this universe just doesn’t have to offer.”

She holds his gaze and he is overcome by the feeling that one word from her could make his single heart stop beating.

“Do you prefer the other one?” he asks, even though he really shouldn’t. For his own sake. But anything he does these days seems to end up cutting his own flesh, so what difference does it really make? She doesn’t respond for a moment. “The other universe, I mean,” he clarifies quickly, almost tripping over the words.

She still won’t look away. Why not? Is there something on his face? Is she seeing him? (How couldn’t she?) But she shakes her head.

“I mean, when it comes down to it, they’re not all that different,” she says slowly. “For a while, I got really irritated at those pink traffic lights, but eventually I got used to it. There are some things I miss, but this universe has its perks too.”

“It does?” She leans forward conspiratorially.

“There might not be an Eiffel tower in this universe, but there are the Hanging Gardens of Babylon.” “I thought Babylon didn’t exist anymore,” he tilts his head in thought. “Visited once, but that was a long time in the past.” “Not in this universe,” she says, “and those gardens are supposed to be really… romantic.”

“Yeah?” A tentative smile crosses his face. “Yeah,” she smiles back. And then she intertwines their fingers. And it’s so hard to breathe when she looks at him this way, the way she used to. Maybe they are not out of sync any longer. Maybe she can really see him. Maybe they can live in a house with a garden, even if it had a white picket fence. Maybe the key to the universe isn’t gone with the TARDIS, it just looks a little different now.

Then he remembers.

“Here,” he says and reaches into his pocket. “I saw this and thought of you.” She makes a small noise when she sees the dandelion he picked on the way, one he can’t really interpret without the TARDIS translating for him.

“I know it’s not a rose, but…” “Shut up.” But is that her typical don’t-be-an-idiot-shut-up, or is it you-shouldn’t-have-done-this-shut-up? When did she become so hard to read? He feels illiterate when it comes to Rose, like he tries so hard to understand but it just never quite adds up to a complete picture.

She takes the dandelion from him and puts it behind her ear and rolls her eyes at him, like don’t be an idiot.

“Suits you,” he says softly.

Then she frowns, touches the flower and then looks at their joined hands.

“Wait a minute,” she says, “is this a date?” He gulps when she lets go off his hand.

“Did you trick me into going on a date with you?” “Now, I wouldn’t say tricked,” he tries to reason.

“You lied! You said you wanted to practice being human.” “I would say skillfully talked around the truth.”

“I can’t believe you,” she harrumphs and lets herself fall back on the blanket.

His heart is beating irritatingly quickly. That seems to happen a lot, lately. Only got one heart and all it seems to want is to leap out of his chest and run away. Really rather rude, that.

“Are you upset with me?” he asks hesitantly.

“You’re an idiot,” she answers and shoves his shoulder lightly. But she doesn’t run off screaming. So he lays down right next to her, blinking up at the sun. Very slowly, he brushes his hand against hers. Then, because he is very brave, he slides their palms together. And then, in what might well be the however-manyeth World Wonder of this universe, she entangles their fingers and squeezes his hand.

*** Maybe being human is not so hard after all, the Doctor thinks. After spending the afternoon at the park, they’re standing in the corridor of the mansion. All day, Rose has barely let go off his hand.

“I should really go to sleep,” she says now, but doesn’t move. Perhaps she doesn’t want to leave. The Doctor knows he doesn’t. (He doesn’t want to go back to the big lonely bed where there is way too much space for dark thoughts to settle under the blanket with him.)

“Are you having nightmares?” he asks softly. He really hopes she will say no, but she gives him a small nod.

“So do I.” His voice almost cracks with the admission.

“Guess we can’t avoid that.” “No.” “But we don’t have to be alone.” It’s a fact as much as it’s a suggestion.

“No,” the Doctor whispers again.

After he has changed into the pajamas Rose had somehow procured for him, he enters her room. Even though she asked him to come, he feels a little like an intruder. He can barely see it in the dark, but it doesn’t matter, because his eyes are only on her and the way she is lying on her side under the blankets. Her bed is just as big as the guest bed. (But tonight, it won’t be lonely.)

He slips under the blanket quietly. She is watching him, too. Maybe they are both worried the other will disappear. Just like before. Immediately, she reaches out for his hand again, as if any point of contact could miraculously keep him in this universe.

“Are you dreaming…” he says, swallows, doesn’t want to ask, but somehow has to. “Are you dreaming about him?” “Would you be upset if I was?” “All I want…” Why has it suddenly become so hard for him to talk? Each word is stubborn, doesn’t want to be spoken. “All I want is for you to be happy.”

“It’s just that he’s out there somewhere.” She gets choked up. “All on his own.”

“Not forever.”

It can’t be a promise, he knows that, but he wants to reassure her in any way he can.

“How can you know?” “Well. I’m tougher than I look.”

“I know.” He runs his fingers over her arm, watching where her eyes glint in the dark. “At least he has Donna,” she whispers.

His throat gets tight.

“He doesn’t.” She props herself up on one elbow.

“She… She couldn’t have lasted long, with all that Time Lord knowledge in a human brain. It would have burned her up. The only way to save her would have been to erase any memory of me – of the Doctor from her mind. She’ll have forgotten him by now.” “Oh,” she sounds shocked. He’s mucking things up again. He’s not making her feel better, he’s making everything worse. And suddenly the thought of Donna presses down on him, so hard that he drops on his back instead of facing Rose. Donna’s voice in his head when he found out she really thought of herself as unimportant echos in his mind.

“She’s – it was all my fault,” he confesses. He wouldn’t blame her if she resented him for it, not only for ruining Donna’s life but also that of the other Doctor. His very existence brought nothing but trouble, has made everyone unhappy. Even Rose, because he knows, just knows she would be happier if she was back on the TARDIS, if there was only one of him. “If it weren’t for the metacrisis – if it weren’t for me -” “Then she would be dead,” Rose interrupts, “the Daleks would have destroyed the TARDIS with Donna in it.”

Automatically, he opens his mouth to protest, but finds that there’s nothing he can say.

“I miss her,” he says instead. “She was my best friend. And the TARDIS. She’s gone from my mind.” “The telepathic link -”

For a moment, he reaches out with his mind, but there’s no one there. No Time Lords, no TARDIS. The problem with splitting yourself in two is that you only get to live half a life. (He didn’t expect the loneliness.) “Gone.”

A tear rolls from his eye, but it’s okay. She can’t see it in the darkness.

That’s not all he dreams of, of course. There isn’t a man in the universe with more regrets. (Not in this one, anyway.) How many people have died in his arms? How many have died because of him? How many times did he hope only to have it ripped away from him again? When he closes his eyes, he sees the world burning and it’s him that set it on fire. And it always has been.

But he can’t tell her that. Not yet. Not tonight.

Instead, he pulls her into his arms in the darkness and she presses herself to his chest. The world is small enough not to get lost in. And that night, both of them sleep soundly. ***

The next morning, the Doctor wakes up alone, but he isn’t overly anxious about it. He thinks about the whole time he’s getting dressed. He will get a job. In fact, he could work with Rose at Torchwood. That does seem to be where his expertise lies. Well, one of his expertises at least, the alien one.

He wants to take Rose on another date. He wants to go to the movies or the zoo or to get ice cream or chips or wherever humans go when they can’t take their eyes off one another.

He nearly starts whistling before he enters the dining room, but he doesn’t and that’s why he hears someone say his name on the inside.

“How are you and the Doctor doing?” Innocuous question, but something still gives the Doctor pause. He waits with his hand on the door handle.

“Fine.” It’s Rose’s voice. “I mean, I don’t know. It’s really… confusing.” Confusing. That’s okay, he’ll take that. He can deal with confusing. Loads of people have been confused by him in the past.

“Do you love him?”

Ah, he should step back, he should really go before she answers, but suddenly he is rooted to the spot, for the whole long moment she hesitates to answer. “I love the Doctor,” she says then, and the breath catches in his throat, “I don’t think I could ever love anyone else.” She says it with conviction, the way people who are in love tend to do. One love is always the one and only love, the last love, at least until the next one comes around. But if anyone is going to mean it, it’s Rose Tyler about the Doctor. Her Doctor. The one who has abandoned her.

For a dreadful, lovely little while he’d really forgotten. That now he would have to make do with half a life. And Rose is making do with half a man. If she ever loves him, it must be like falling in love with a memory. She is never going to say it back. She will allow him to love her, graciously, quietly, but she will never say it back.

He takes a deep breath and steels his shoulders. He won’t run away from this. He has braced himself against worse before. How foolish it had been of him to think she just needed time. What she needs, what she truly needs, is the other Doctor.

He pastes on a smile before he opens the door. Of course, Rose can tell his fake smiles from his real ones, but she won’t comment, assume it’s his general inability to adjust to his new situation. Which isn’t so far from the truth. (She was right when she said he was a thief. If she ever feels anything toward him, they will be stolen affections, belonging to another man. Except for her resentment. That one belongs rightfully to him.)

“Morning,” he says brightly.

The room falls quiet instantly, but he ignores it and saunters into the room, like nothing is wrong. Nothing is wrong. “Banana?” Rose asks and smiles at him. She really shouldn’t do that. It only makes him feel things he shouldn’t.

“Nah, thanks,” he declines. What right does he have to like bananas? Maybe bananas don’t want to be liked by a man like him. He’ll just have a pear instead. Those deserve no sympathy.

Rose’s kind eyes follow him when he walks around the dining table and picks up a pear. She’s concerned about him. She does care. That’s what she does, now. Make the best of a bad deal. *** “Oh, don’t tell me you’re drunk already,” Jackie tells him in the evening.

“Time Lords don’t get drunk,” he insists. A couple of her friends had come over earlier and then they’d opened a bottle of wine. The Doctor had also wanted a glass. Just to blend in, of course, and definitely not to wallow in self-pity. Time Lords don’t do that.

“Shame you aren’t one then,” Jackie says, “at least not completely.” Why is he even talking to her? Where is Rose?

He swirls around, or tries to, but the speed of it topples him over.

“You’re drunk,” Jackie accuses.

“It’s just this rubbish human coordination,” the Doctor says, “is what it is.”

Something of him is missing, he’s sure of it, though he can’t quite determine what it is. Maybe it’s his foot and that’s why he fell over. He slowly rights himself, but it’s surprisingly hard. (Possibly due to lack of foot.)

“Are you sure you can do this?” Jackie asks from very far away, probably a good few meters above him. “The slow life? The nine to five?” He manages to balance himself on two feet. Jackie is right in front of his face. Huh.

“I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor says confidently, “I can do anything.”

It’s a really bad moment to trip again, but evidently, his legs don’t care about that. Jackie holds out a hand for him, but there seem to be suddenly two of her.

“Zygon!” the Doctor yells. After blinking two times, there’s only one Jackie again. Still holding out her hand. “No, no, you’re not a zygon. Probably.” He waves his hand around dismissively and instead of grabbing Jackie’s, he leans back onto the porch, until his head hits the hard stone floor. “Don’t you worry about me,” the Doctor says. “I’ve got it aaaall under control.” Only that he doesn’t. Which is why he won’t be getting up again in the near future. It’s an important skill, that. To know when you’re beaten. He closes his eyes for a long moment and tries to swallow the bile rising in his throat. It’s bitter, all so bitter…

When he opens his eyes again, Rose is standing over him.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” she says. But she’s smiling, always smiling. She’s far too nice to him. Cutting him slack.

“Well, it’s a nice floor.”

“Hope you’re not planning on sleeping here again. Believe it or not, but beds are actually more convenient for that.” “I would have to walk quite a way,” the Doctor says, feeling dizzy. “That’s not very convenient.”

“You’re right,” she answers and proceeds to lay down on the porch right next to him. They both look up at the stars. The not-quite-right stars. He would love nothing more than to get up close and personal with them to look for the differences. “Humans,” the Doctor says, like it’s something extraordinarily despicable, “they get goo in their eyes, did you know that? You wake up and there’s stuff in your eyes! How’s that practical?” “However will you cope?” She throws an arm over her forehead, like it’s a horrible tragedy. Which it is. She’s stuck her tongue between her teeth again, which he is absolutely certain she does only to torture him. Personally.

“I would watch a water tap drip for you, did you know that?” he asks quietly, looking back at the stars. They’re so untouchable, even though there’s not even a wall between them. Just space. Space upon space upon space. “I would sit here and watch a flower grow. If you asked me to.” “You’re drunk,” Rose says, which rings some sort of a bell.

“So they tell me.”

He wonders about whatever limb of his went missing. Something… Something went missing… But right now, right here, he’s not missing anything at all. “You make me feel whole,” he whispers. Even though she will forever be wishing he were someone else. “You make me feel whole…” It’s his last thought before he drifts off.

*** His head is pounding when consciousness drags him back by his lapels into miserable reality. He is in a bed, even though he distinctly remembers not falling asleep in one. It’s only when he’s half-way through brushing his teeth that he remembers what he said to Rose. That’s it. Alcohol is banned from this rubbish part human body. He never should have conducted that experiment in the first place. Now he’d gone and embarrassed himself in front of Rose. And told her things she really doesn’t want to hear.

He’ll stay here forever, he thinks while he is getting dressed, into borrowed clothes, and suddenly he is horrified. In this house, in this bathroom. This is it. There’s nothing more, there is nothing to discover, there is just day by day by miserable day.

He will drown in a sea of sameness. He will die within a small amount of years, within hours, within seconds. And Rose will miss him, only she won’t be missing him, but a man a universe away.

He stops with three buttons still undone and doesn’t bother putting on shoes. He rushes down the corridor, past Jackie, who yelps and nearly drops her hairdryer. He runs out the front door and he has nowhere to go, but it doesn’t matter because all he needs is to get away. He runs like he is chased by a Dalek or a Sontaran or a man in a uniform. Luckily, what is chasing him is very, very slow – slowness itself, in fact, but that’s only reason to go faster.

Rose will only ever love him for everything he isn’t, if at all. There is nothing else for him in this universe. He runs past houses, past people who have no problem living slowly, past trashcans and street lamps. Past cars adhering to speed limits.

He runs out of breath fast, much faster than he is used to, but that only spurs him on to run through the pain. He only slows down once he is far from the mansion. Suddenly he can see it – what he’s been looking for, for centuries, only seeing it through the eyes of his companions. The whole universe blaring at him. The crispness of fresh morning air burns through his lungs with every gasping breath he takes. A butterfly flutters by in a flash of blue. A woman walking her Golden Retriever. Dew glitters in the grass. And on the horizon shines the sunset, dunking the whole sky in orange and pink and yellow. He hasn’t watched a sunset in such a long time. After all, who needs to watch a sunset when you can visit a thousand suns? But it’s beautiful. He can see it all, how beautiful and precious this world is. This is why they are all here - to bear witness to it. This is why he is here.

It’s his world, now. All the world he gets.

Still catching his breath, he sinks against the nearest building and just watches. He must be watching for a long time, because when he takes his eyes off the sunset again, it’s to see Rose step out of a taxi.

For a moment, it looks like she’ll yell at him, which is fair enough, but when she sees him, her shoulders drop.

“Are you okay?” she asks instead of yelling. “I’m fine.” She gives him a look like she doesn’t believe a word. “Well, I wasn’t a minute ago,” the Doctor amends. “I might have… panicked again. A little bit.” “You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” She sounds a little scared.

“About you?” He looks at her fondly. “Never.”

“Yeah, but staying in one place, you know, domestic. Is that what you want?” “That’s not what I was running from.” He takes a deep, bracing breath. He should be honest with her. “Me and you, living the slow life. I think I was running from… the prospect of not getting it.”

The thought that he would never have it, not with her by his side, is torturous.

“But we’re in this together now, isn’t that what we said? Why are you scared? You can have that.”

The corners of his mouth turn down with the pain of it. “Not really. Not in the way I want.”

Rose, in front of him, is in the same universe, but worlds away.

“Why not?” she asks gently.

“Because – because I’m not him. I’ll always be… your second choice. And no matter how happy I am, I’ll always remember that.” She looks at him with immeasurable sadness in her eyes, which is not what he wanted at all. He wants her to look at him the way she used to. He wants to see that spark in her eyes again. He should have pushed her away, when she had kissed him on the beach, so she could have run after the TARDIS. He shouldn’t have been so bloody weak.

“I’m sorry -” Sometimes he can’t stand her empathy, her stubborn kindness. “It’s not your fault,” he quickly interrupts. “It’s… fine. I just need some time.”

Some time to accept he’s not who he used to be. And that he can’t ask her to treat him the same. She looks at him and sees double – and he understands. He really does.

“No,” she says firmly, “I’m sorry I ever made you think… I made you feel this way. And you’re right, I can’t forget him. He’s… well, he’s you. It would be incredibly hard to love one without loving the other.”

It’s not that he minds that. It’s that, if the other Doctor came back, she would choose him. That’s the persistent and unbearable fact in the back of his mind.

“But you can’t,” he chokes out, even though he doesn’t mean to.

She tilts her head.

“Love me,” he adds.

“Why would you say that?” She seems heartbroken over him. This might be the worst part. His whole existence is breaking her heart.

“It’s what you said, you said…” He’s becoming a little uncertain now. “I heard you.” In fact, those words won’t stop ringing in his ear. “You said you could never love anyone but the Doctor.” Rose steps toward him carefully and reaches for his hand. Stop touching me, I can’t take it, stop being so bloody kind -

“And you are the Doctor, stupid,” she says.

“Oh,” he says softly, then, “Ohhh.”

That puts a different spin on things. Not just things, everything really. And everything is spinning, a little, except for her face. He doesn’t care. He is the Doctor and she loves the Doctor. It’s mad. It’s completely non-sensical.

“Only you,” she chastises. Then her voice becomes heavy with emotion. “I couldn’t accept it at first, because I was being stupid. But… you stayed for me. Of course I love you.”

The world is spinning. He needs something to hold on to. He grabs her hand and it’s the one thing steady in this whole universe. Entirely against his will, a tear rolls down his cheek and then another one.

“What -” He stops and gathers his breath. “What’s that? Why am I crying?”

“It’s a human thing,” she whispers very close to his face, “it means that you’re happy.” She puts one hand on his cheek and one over his ear and then she presses her lips to his. She kisses him just like she did on the beach, but this time it’s not a spur of the moment decision with disastrous consequences. This time it’s full of promise. He wonders if she can taste his tears in her mouth.

It means that you’re happy.

Astonished, the Doctor looks inside himself, into a place he’d thought empty, and finds that she’s right. He really is.

#doctor who #doctor who fic #doctor who fanfiction #metacrisis doctor #tentoo x rose #doctor who fanfic #rose tyler #the tenth doctor

5 notes · View notes

theliberaltony · 4 years

Link

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

These days, reading the monthly jobs report can feel like opening a time capsule. According to the data for June, which was released today, the recovery from the COVID-19 recession was still chugging along as of the middle of last month, when the two surveys that form the backbone of the report were conducted. The unemployment rate fell from 13.3 percent in May to 11.1 percent in June, and 4.8 million more people were employed in June than in May.

Those numbers look promising — but it’s important to remember that they’re just a snapshot of what the economy looked like in mid-June. And a lot has changed since then. Most importantly, COVID-19 infections have spiked in states across the country, and many governors have rolled back the phased reopenings that brought many jobless workers back into the labor force. That could have a seismic impact on the sectors of the economy, like leisure and hospitality, that saw the biggest gains in June.

Even underneath the surface of the June report, there were signs that the recession is deepening. Crucially, the number of workers who have permanently lost their jobs rose quite a bit — signaling that for an increasing number of Americans, getting back to work won’t be an easy matter. And the unemployment rate for white Americans continues to be much lower than the unemployment rate for Black, Hispanic or Asian Americans. That’s an important reminder that some workers are continuing to do much better than others as the recovery creaks into gear.

If you just focus on the report’s headline numbers — the unemployment rate and number of payroll jobs — the country’s economic situation was looking up in June. In fact, the drop in the unemployment rate may have been even more dramatic than the topline number lets on. Over the past few months, the Bureau of Labor Statistics has been struggling with an issue that’s unique to our pandemic-ridden times: A substantial number of workers were reporting that they were absent from their jobs for the entire week referenced in the survey for “other reasons.” That probably meant they were temporarily out of work because of COVID-19 — but they weren’t counted as unemployed.

To be clear: The BLS has been extremely transparent about the presence of this problem, and it does not mean that the numbers were fudged. Our methods for measuring unemployment are simply not designed for a pandemic-induced recession. But it is important to take the misclassification issue into account because if those workers had been included in April, BLS estimates that the unemployment rate would have been about 20 percent; in May, the rate would have been about 16 percent. By June, the BLS reported that it mostly had the misclassification issue under control — which meant the actual unemployment rate declined even more substantially, to around 12 percent.

Bear in mind, though, that we still have a long way to go before we’re anywhere near pre-pandemic levels of unemployment. It’s all about your frame of reference: An 11.1 percent unemployment rate is stunningly low compared with where we were in April, when close to 20 percent of the population was unemployed. But it’s still higher than at any point in modern history — including the unemployment rate at the apex of the Great Recession.

And there are many reasons to believe that the recovery could stall — or even backslide — in the coming months. One clue is tucked in the June report: Of those who did lose jobs, a larger share of them were permanent than in previous months.

In April and May, 88.6 percent of job losses were classified by the BLS as “temporary,” which fit the early theme of this recession: Businesses shut down temporarily to stop the spread of COVID-19 but planned to reopen later as the virus came under control — particularly with the assistance of government loans such as the Paycheck Protection Program, which incentivized small businesses to keep employees on payroll during the closures. But in June, the share of job losses that were temporary fell to 78.6 percent, a sign that a growing number of workers will not have a job waiting for them when the crisis lifts.

“As more job losses become permanent, this recession will look more and more like an ordinary recession, where in recent history the recovery has been a slow slog,” said Nick Bunker, the director of economic research for North America at the Indeed Hiring Lab, a research institute connected to the job-search site Indeed. “That means the hopes of a quick recovery will be slimmer and slimmer.”

The fact that some of the industries hit hardest early in the recession made big gains in June is both good and bad news. Leisure and hospitality, which had lost a staggering 8.3 million jobs in March and April, built on its May gains to add 2.1 million more workers in June, an increase of nearly 21 percent month over month. Similarly, retail trade, which lost 2.4 million jobs in March and April, bounced back with about 740,000 new workers in June, a 5.4 percent increase month over month. And education and health services, another of the industries most affected (with 2.8 million total job losses in March and April), added 568,000 jobs in June, for a 2.6 percent gain month over month.

Overall, almost every major industry sector of the economy added jobs in June, with total private employment up by 4.3 percent since May. However, it is worth noting that despite better-than-expected jobs reports in both May and now June, total private employment is still down 10.2 percent relative to its pre-crisis level in February. Things are looking better, but there is still a lot of room for improvement.

And the hammer might fall yet again on sectors like leisure and hospitality, which includes the restaurant industry. Several states allowed restaurants and even bars and casinos to reopen at partial capacity in May and June — only to abruptly close them again when case counts started to spike. That means that some of the workers who finally got to return to their jobs as servers, bartenders or blackjack dealers might well be unemployed again in the July report.

That everything these days is in a state of flux complicates even the most seasoned experts’ ability to read the report. Erica Groshen, who served as BLS commissioner from 2013 to 2017, said it’s extremely difficult to isolate the impact of the many different forces that are churning underneath the report. “We’ve got all of these effects that are going at cross-purposes,” she said. “We have the ongoing effects of restrictions in place. We have the effects of some restrictions being lifted. And we have the deepening of the recession itself.” All of that, she said, makes it hard to assess exactly what’s happening under the surface — much less what will happen next.

And again, the gains have not been equally distributed throughout the population — another theme of this very unequal recession. Although the unemployment rate for women dropped at a faster rate (2.8 percentage points) than for men (1.6) in June, women still had a higher overall unemployment rate than men did. Likewise, the unemployment rate for white Americans dropped by 2.3 percentage points last month, while it only fell by 1.4 percent for Black Americans and 1.2 percentage points for Asian Americans. And at 15.4 percent, Black Americans still have the highest unemployment rate of any racial or ethnic group, 5.3 percentage points higher than their white counterparts.

Perhaps one bit of encouraging data in this jobs report was that the unemployment rate for Latino or Hispanic Americans did drop by quite a bit — it was down 3.1 percentage points in June. However, that still left their overall unemployment rate at 14.5 percent, which is not only far higher than it was before the coronavirus recession began (it was 4.4 percent in February) but also higher than the unemployment rates for white (10.1 percent) or Asian (13.8 percent) Americans.

As we’ve said often during this crisis, you really need the next jobs report in order to interpret the current one. The June report shows that the unexpected employment gains of May were not a mirage — the economy really did start recovering earlier and more quickly than many economists expected. But next month’s report could be a sobering reminder of just how fragile any economic gains are — at least while the virus is still spiraling out of control in many parts of the country. So we’ll know better by next month whether the concerning trends in this report have deepened, as well as how much the recent COVID-19 outbreaks across the country have hamstrung the nascent recovery. In typical fashion, our economic data is moving at a much slower pace than the virus, which leaves us guessing at where things might head next.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Amelia Thomson-DeVeaux #Neil Paine and Julia Wolfe

2 notes · View notes

afictionaladventure16 · 5 years

Text

Side Effects May Include (Tony Stark x Daughter)

Part 9

Side Effects May Include (Masterlist)

Warnings: Mentions of rape

Word Count: 1,500

I DON’T OWN ANY OF THESE GIFS, ALL CREDIT FOR THE GIFS GOES TO THEM

*Trigger Warning, small descriptions of rape*

“No, get off me!”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, princess,” he spat as he forced himself onto me.

“Please, stop, I’m begging you!”

“You’re begging me huh?” He smirked as he laid sloppy kisses on my body.

“Somebody help!” I yelled out.

“HELP ME!” I yelled as I bolted up in my bed, “SOMEBODY PLEASE HELP ME!” I yelled out as I frantically looked around.

My dad came rushing in along with a worrisome Pepper, “I’m right here,” he quickly embraced me, stroking my hair gently, “I’m right here,” he whispered. I sobbed onto his chest, he looked over at Pepper, “I’ve got this, Pepper, go on back to bed.” Pepper didn’t argue, she left the room.

“You haven’t had one of these in a while huh, kiddo?” My dad said with a small chuckle, he moved so that he was laying next to me on the bed, but still sitting in an upright position.

I shook my head as I laid my head on his chest again, listening to his heart beat softly. I smiled softly to myself, he was actually there, I wasn’t in some dream. I remembered how when I was little when he had just got back home from being kidnapped, I would lay my head on his chest just to listen to his heartbeat. In a way, it soothed me.

“Was it about mom?” I winced at the memories of having those nightmares, but what made things worse than comparing to the nightmare that I just had… I would rather have those. My nightmares about my mother included someone I loved but ended with her death and as painful as that is to constantly relive her death in my dreams. I wouldn’t say it’s the worst as dreaming of someone you hated, and it ended with them taking advantage of you after your pleading to stop.

“Yeah,” I lied. I couldn’t just tell my father the truth, that I had dreamed that my rapist had raped me over and over as I begged him to stop, as I tried to pull him off me but I couldn’t move like something was weighing down my limbs as I screamed for help. I couldn’t. Why? Because he doesn’t know it has happened.

“Believe it or not, I miss her every day,” He whispered as he kissed the top of my head, “You remind me of her so much.” He chuckled, “Would it help you fall back to sleep if I sang that song she would always sing to you to help you fall asleep?”

I smiled, “please don’t.”

“I mean, I’ve been told my singing voice is pretty damn good.”

“You poor old soul, you’ve been lied to.”

He chuckled, letting out a huge sigh afterward, “want me to stay with you for a little bit?”

“no, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” I gave him a small nod, “Alright, well, you know where I’ll be if you need me.” I watched as he walked out of my room.

I attempted to go back to sleep but every time I closed my eyes and finally began to drift off the same nightmare just kept coming back but darker each time. More violent.

“Good morning, everyone!” Steve yelled out as he made his way over to the table, Bucky groaned at how much energy Steve had in the mornings.

“Well, if it isn’t Barnes and Noble,” my dad whispered as he placed a plate of bacon on the table for everyone to grab.

I rolled my eyes as I watched Steve be extra cherry today for some reason, “you look extra jolly today,” Steve pointed out as he raised an eyebrow at me, “everything good?”

“No,” my dad sighed, “nightmares,” he whispered, “a pretty bad one right, hon?” He asked as he kissed the top of my head.

“I thought I heard screaming last night, are you okay?” Bucky asked I had forgotten that he was on the same floor as me and my dad. I gave Bucky a small nod.

I felt someone's hands lift my head, noticing it was my dad as I looked at him, “maybe you shouldn’t go to school today,” he said as he examined my face.

“I’ll be fine,” I said as I moved my head from his grasp, catching him off guard.

“How many more nightmares did you have last night after I left?”

“None,” I said nonchalantly

“Olivia,” my dad said sternly. I sighed as I began to play with my cereal, “Friday?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“When did Olivia fall back to sleep after I left her room last night?”

“That’s complicated to say, Mr. Stark. She kept waking up due to her frequent nightmares.”

“Snitch,” I said as I slammed my spoon into my bowl.

“How long have these nightmares been occurring?” Steve asked.

“Nightmares?” I heard Nat asked, “are you having those nightmares again, Liv?”

“it’s nothing,” I said as I pushed the bowl of cereal away.

“No, it’s not, you’re staying home from school and that’s final.”

“No, I’m going to school and that’s final,” I retorted.

“What the hell, Liv? You used to beg me to go to school when you were little, what’s changed?” Maybe the fact that I’m not a little girl anymore and I needed out of this place before the memories of the nights passed resurface into my brain because I know only time will tell when you’ll ask questions on that night.

But I stayed silent.

“Fine.” I got up from the table and walked out.

“Teenagers,” I heard my dad say.

I laid in bed for a few hours, until I heard my phone ring. I quickly picked it up, “hello?”

“Liv? Where are you?” I heard Jasmine say.

“Home.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why shouldn’t it be?”

“Well, from what you told me-“

“What did I tell you? From what I recall we had a great time this weekend.”

She cleared her throat, “right. So, why aren’t you in school, then?”

I stared at my reflection in the mirror, “I didn’t get much sleep last night, decided I should just stay home.”

“And your dad just agreed with that?”

“He insisted.” I sighed, “can you get my homework assignments for me?”

“Sure! I can drop them off later if you’d like.”

“Yeah…” I sighed, “any news about me?”

She sighed, “no, but I’ve been kind of a loner all day… maybe it’s best if you didn’t know if people are talking about you… so it won’t get to your head.”

“but it already has.”

“You need to tell someone, Liv. You can’t keep yourself hostage to this situation, it’s only going to get worse.”

“Thanks, Jasmine but I think I’ve got this handled. I have to go, text me once you’re on your way later.” Jasmine and I said our goodbyes, I hung up the phone and decided on some exercise. I changed quickly into the clothes I usually do my training in and made my way over to the training room.

I saw the punching bag in the distance, it was worth a try, it’s been a while though. I walked up to the punching bag, getting into my stance, I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath before opening my eyes. I began punching the bag in front of me rapidly, letting out all my emotions, I felt tears run down my cheeks as I began to kick the bag, using some techniques Nat had taught me a while back.

“I hope you’re not imagining my face on that punching bag,” I heard my dad say along with some chuckles from the others.

I stopped punching the bag, catching my breath.

“You alright there, kid?” Steve asked as he made his way over to weights.

“Fine.” I felt someone’s hand on my shoulder, it was a gentle touch, the kind that just made me want to fall over and sob.

“Liv,” my dad said, I turned around to face him, his expression softened at the sight of me, “oh, hon.” He quickly engulfed me into a hug, I held back the sob that was forcing its way out. I didn’t want to cry in front of everyone, “just let it out,” my dad said as he gently rubbed my back.

That did it. I just sobbed it all out.

I wanted to just spill everything out right there, but I just couldn’t, all that came from my mouth were just sobs. I hadn’t noticed that everyone left the area.

“Why didn’t you tell me these nightmares were you affecting you this badly? They weren’t so bad when you had them back then, were they?”

No, they weren’t. “I guess, I just… I just miss her…”

“Maybe we should get you to see a therapist again,” He began to trail off about the benefits of me talking to someone but all I could think of was how I was lying to him. Not just him but almost everyone.

Requests (For imagines/one shots) are open!!

Side Effects May Include taglist is closed!

Permanent taglist is open!

Also! Feedback is highly appreciated! So don’t be afraid to make a comment, criticism or anything! Reblog, post, like, do as you please! I love getting feedback from you guys, it lets me know what you guys like to read!

Taglists: @waves-and-sunflowers @spiderlingsweb @emmii4 @henrietteoaks @happy-days-22 @abitofeverythinggg @oliolioxiclean@littlephoenix-fire @just4muggles @purplekitten30 @chloesfanficreblogs @honeycvmbs @jakiki94 @trulysmoakin @yourwonderbelle @sarahps177 @griff1ndor @cr4zyimagines @mountainsforwords @myforeveryoungblog

222 notes · View notes

alicepink-me · 4 years

Text

The New Guardian

Story Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng is an adult in the real world, guarding the Miracle Box in Master Fu's place. She's in love with Chat Noir, but refuses to tell him her feelings. New holders appear to fight the duo and shake up their lives. Marinette makes a tough decision about her future as Ladybug.

Chapter 9: History

Marinette's alarm went off, waking her. She rolled over and hit her clock, looking over at April. April laid in her bed with a book and reading light. She was wearing round purple glasses and more comfy clothes like yesterday. Marinette rubbed her eyes.

"You know, it's not polite to stare." April said, turning a page.

"Why are you awake?" Marinette blinked, breathing in. "It's five in the morning."

"I'm reading." She answered. "What's your excuse?"

Marinette threw her covers over and hopped off her bed. "I have a 6 a.m. class."

"Oh, say hi to the munchkins for me." April laughed.

Marinette rummaged through her dresser. "What does that mean?"

"Nothing." April turned a page.

Marinette rolled her eyes before grabbing her clothes and a small bag. She opened the door but stopped to see a blonde standing right there, smiling.

"Good morning, Marinette." The woman greeted, holding her hand out. "My name is Rebekah and I will be your tour guide for your first week."

"Uh . . . nice to meet you." Marinette shook her hand, awkwardly. "But my first class isn't until six."

"I know. I'm just waiting for you." Rebekah cheered. "I'll give you a tour at anytime and I'll be ready to take you to your class in . . . " She checked her watch. "Exactly fifty-eight minutes."

"Okay . . . sounds great, but I'm gonna get ready first." Marinette carried her stuff past her.

April rolled off her bed and moved to the door.

"Hi April!" Rebekah squealed

April gave a fake smile. "Hey Rebekah."

"I haven't seen you since last year. How are your classes?"

"Great." April slammed the door in her face.

. . .

"Alright, Marinette, first things first . . . I need all of your completed paperwork." Rebekah turned around in her tracks.

Marinette handed over the giant stack of papers before grabbing her bag. "Anything else?"

Rebekah flipped through them. "No . . . I think you're all set. I'll drop these off by Master Mantis later, but I'll show you to your first class now." She started walking.

Marinette followed. "Yeah what exactly is the first one and . . . basically all of my other classes?" Marinette asked. "My schedule was two pages, labeled day 1 and day 2, and they just included times and locations. There wasn't any other information."

"That's because we have one day of school/studying classes and one day of action/fighting classes. Neither are easy to begin with, but if we had both in the same day, students would only focus or excel in one." She admitted. "The study days are mostly history based while action days focus entirely on sparring and the miraculous." Rebekah explained, rounding a corner of the building. "You have four history classes today, all two hours each plus one one hour math class at the end of the day. Tomorrow you will have two two hour fighting and action sessions with your assigned group. I will look into your files tomorrow to give you more information on that." She turned left.

"Why would I need eight hours of history today?" Marinette asked, trying to keep up with her tour guide.

"Because you're here for a shorter time than the rest of us. You will only receive a crash course, yet a sample of each." Rebekah stopped by a door that a bunch of kids were going through. "And we're here."

"We are?" Marinette panted. They were walking really fast. Marinette watched the crowds of kids walk by. They couldn't be any older than thirteen. "These are my classmates?" She raised her eyebrows. "Why aren't they . . . more . . . my age?"

"Most people start training at the academy when they are eleven or twelve years old. You obviously have been here for like ten hours, so you don't even have the beginners level of information." She said. "Which is why you have four. You have one class for each age group."

"I didn't think I drew enough attention to myself already." Marinette said sarcastically. "This should be fun."

"I'll leave it to you then." Rebekah grinned before prancing away on her high horse.

Marinette inhaled. She walked inside and looked around the classroom. It might be best for her to sit in the back, away from everyone, and luckily there were still some empty seats. Marinette slid into a desk, waiting for class to start. There was probably one hundred twelve year olds in the room with her. Either they'll think she's the same age because of her height or Marinette's gonna get made fun of by a bunch of prepubescents. Luckily they hadn't noticed her yet.

"Alright class." The professor walked in and set his briefcase on the counter. The class immediately silenced. "Today's lesson is about the most important event to ever occur at this temple. A temporarily fatal day that permanently changed our lives and futures." The class stared at their teacher with curiosity. "Does anyone know what this time was?" No one answered. "It may be mid-semester, but I think now is the right time to introduce this unit." His eyes locked with Marinette before picking up a piece of chalk. He wrote on the board. "This event was known as The Great Massacre by Wang Fu or The Temple Buried in Time." He turned back to the class. "And since all of you are our newest pupils, none of you were born yet. It's recent yet decades old." He breathed in, pondering. "This Massacre lasted 166 long years . . . and was only cured six years ago."

The class began to murmur. One kid raised his hand "Why haven't we heard about it before?" He asked. "166 years is a long time, but it wasn't even mentioned back in my hometown."

"I'll answer that only because you all are beginners." The professor sighed. "No one, unless they have attended this academy, knows about the existence of us, so our history is hidden as well. News stations will report on heroes, but no information about their origins or identities will be released. If we allowed our secrets to be known, our safety as well as this temple would be in peril. There would be no order and all power could be stolen."

"Actually." Another girl started. "I heard about a story whenever I was seven. The news mentioned a mysterious temple reappearing."

"Yes, that is correct." The professor continued. "But once the story was released, we used some of our miraculous holders to convince every news station that discovered the incident, that nothing unusual or interesting was here. After all, they already had two heroes in their city to focus on. We made the reporters believe that there was no need to ever come back. After that, there weren't anymore stories reported and the general public completely forgot as if it never happened."

Marinette adjusted in her seat, recrossing her legs. Every ambitious child in the room whipped out their notebooks and aggressively took notes on the astonishing information. Marinette didn't really need to since Master Fu had already taught her about his past years ago and she was present for the temple's reappearance. This class seemed more like a refresher course than a complicated history class.

"So this is where the problem started." The professor began, turning back to the chalkboard. "A young guardian in training named Wang Fu made a horrible mistake that cost us dearly. He was assigned the regular training assignment that required guarding the Miracle Box for a measly 24 hours, but . . . the man's hunger got the better of him and he misused this task by stealing the peacock miraculous. Fu then used the miraculous to conjure up a creature that would bring him food, but because of his lack of training with that power the monster turned on his creator. That monster devoured every other miraculous and later the people here as well, including me." The class gasped. "The temple burned and all was lost, but Wang Fu never looked back. He grabbed the Miracle Box that he misused and ran, leaving his mess behind and that monster raging. It wasn't until 166 years later that two of his own uneducated students defeated the monstrosity." The professor turned around. "That man left everything to ruins and never bothered to finish his mess. It required two unqualified tweenagers to do it instead, bringing such shame to our group." The professor sighed. "And to top off his crimes, he lost two miraculouses after that fateful day, the peacock and butterfly. Both were found and used for evil purposes, which we will discuss in tomorrows lesson about Paris."

These kids shouldn't be brainwashed like this. Master Fu wasn't a criminal. Marinette raised her hand, even if it meant outing herself.

The professor glared at her. "Yes, Ms. Dupain-Cheng?"

Oh, he knew her name. "I'm sorry, but . . . some of your facts are wrong." Marinette said.

He squinted. "How so?"

"Well . . . one of the council members actually told Master Fu to run. He didn't leave without looking back. He tried to fix it, but before he could, everything was desiccated in destruction." Marinette continued. "And Master Fu did not leave the monster. He had believed it was destroyed in the fire, but it was later discovered in a rock formation by Mayura. Mayura was a villain, which I'm sure you already know, and she brought the creature back to life. Master Fu's pupils took down the monster that was believed to be indestructible and the temple was restored." Marinette paused, smiling. "You'd never know how happy Master Fu was when he found out that everything had returned. He wasn't some sort of villain who prayed for death and destruction."

"Hmm." The professor's eye twitched. "I suppose your view is slightly distorted since you were taught by him rather than at the temple. Maybe it's only opinion rather than factual."

"I guess the same goes for you." Marinette suggested. "The lesson would be a little biased if it's taught by a survivor of the incident."

"Seems fair." The professor nodded, turning back to the board. "Now, class, your assignment for the week is to think of your argument." He wrote as he spoke. "How guilty or innocent is the man? What are your thoughts and if Wang Fu was still alive . . . how should the matter be dealt with?" He turned back to the class and looked at Marinette. "I'll be interested to hear your thoughts."

The rest of class was boring and frustrating for Marinette. She had heard everything before and lived part of it, yet every detail was distorted. That professor taught from his point of view, which clearly despised Master Fu. And she can almost guarantee that all the other professors are sharing from their point of views as well. Now, every child that trains at the temple will grow up believing them. They have no reason not to.

. . .

Lunch:

The temple's café was set up like a buffet with several different lines leading to different types of cuisine. Ninety percent of the food was healthy and the only weird thing here was the entire corner for protein bars and drinks. There was a huge crowd around that section. It was probably included since there's so much training at the temple. Marinette did overhear something about a wellness class, so everyone else is apparently trained for that specifically. They're specifically in tune with their diets and understand exactly what they need for their own bodies to maintain their powers at a maximum.

Marinette entered a smoothie line. She figured it might be best to start out with something simple for her first day. She didn't want to spend too much time looking at all the options, seeming like a lost puppy. Marinette might be new, but she didn't want to look like a sad freshman. It was hard to see around the hoards of students anyway.

She stepped up in the smoothie line. There was a tablet to design your smoothie and order it off of. Marinette reached for the tablet after the next girl, typing in her name and picking out ingredients. She put the tablet down as the girl behind her squinted.

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?" She questioned. Something about her tone was off.

"That's me." Marinette turned to her.

The girl picked up the tablet to punch in her order. "I heard about you. You're that girl." Her tude was ripe. " The one who just walked right in, demanding special treating."

Marinette's eyebrows furrowed. "I didn't-"

"I heard enough." She interrupted. "I know what you are, I know all about your past, and I won't let you believe you're better. You don't deserve to be here in the first place."

"I know." Marinette nodded, taking a step down in the line.

The girl's eye twitched as she set the tablet down. "I'm Priya, last name not assigned yet, and I have been here for eight years. You have been here for eight seconds, yet you have an enormous amount of power over me. And did you train for it? No. Did you earn that right? No. And why are you here? To make up for the fact that you cheated the entire system that has been in place for centuries and don't want the guilt to eat away at your soul anymore. Please, don't plead innocence."

Marinette's mouth hung open. "I'm just trying these classes out. I can leave anytime with my miraculous, but I've chosen to stay here for now to understand the history better and to receive partial training. I'm sorry that I wasn't raised with the same lifestyle as you."

"And that's the problem." Priya moved down the line. "You can leave." She glared at Marinette. "I have worked day and night for eight years . . . and I don't have a miraculous. So I don't want to hear your self-centered sob story about how you've changed your path and you want to fit in with the world that never picked you just because you feel destined to be a part of all the magic. It's kind of sad really. If you really felt bad, you would've given up that power and left it behind because you shouldn't have it and there is no way you can start over from the beginning to earn it."

Marinette scooted down the line, standing in front of the barista. "I guess we're just going to live with it. I can't change my past, but I can alter my future here."

"Oh I'll live with it." Priya smiled. "We're in the same class tomorrow after all. There's no way you'll win against us. Once you step into that classroom, you're just prey to the wolves."

Marinette smiled. "We'll see."

"Marinette?" The barista asked.

Marinette took her large smoothie and sipped it. "Class should be fun and you can crush my experience all you want, but even if I get my butt beat . . . I can't feel anything worse than I already have this week."

Priya watched her strut away, Marinette slurping her smoothie with a grin.

. . .

Later that Night:

Marinette reached her dorm room and unlocked the door. She walked in and saw April sitting on her bed, reading. Marinette stopped and stared at the book, her eyes widened.

"My diary . . . " She mumbled. "You're reading my diary?!"

April sprung off the bed and held it behind her back. "To be fair, you are pretty sketchy." She admitted.

"I'm sketchy?!" Marinette threw her bag on her bed.

"You are a cheater, whether you accept it or not." April shrugged. "What am I supposed to believe?"

Marinette took a deep breath. "Just give it back." She held out her hand.

"I won't be so harsh anymore." April handed it over. "I think I understand you a little better now."

"Really? I wouldn't have guessed. I only publicized my entire life inside that journal." Marinette said sarcastically. "But I can forgive a fraction of it if you aren't so bitter all the time."

"Oh please, everyone here is bitter." April snorted. "It's survival of the fittest. Any kindness can be taken advantage of. It's how we are." She leaned against the bed. "And people don't lie in their diaries because they don't plan to show people, so I've learned the real you by reading your secrets."

"Well that's great." Marinette hopped on her bed. "I'm glad my life story and miserable love life brings you reassurance."

"It's not that bad." April walked to her closet. "At least I don't have to kill you in your sleep because of my debilitating trust issues."

"Would you actually do that?" Marinette shoved her diary under her pillow.

April smiled. "Why do you think I didn't already have a roommate when you got here?"

#miraculous ladybug #MIRACULOUS: TALES OF LADYBUG AND CHAT NOIR #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #emotions #conflict #romance #chat noir #ladybug #ladynoir #alice pink #alicepink-me #the new guardian #fanfiction #feelings

3 notes · View notes

this-lioness · 4 years

Text

Weekend Review

Long, boring and mundane, as usual, but I find it relaxing.

The last two grocery orders for my Mom were only about 1/3 to 1/2 full, and I knew that wasn’t going to hold her very long. Food is readily available in the stores, it’s just that the stores are no longer doing substitutions for out-of-stock items, so if there are six versions of a given item available online you have to hope that the one you pick is one they have in stock, otherwise you’re not getting anything at all. Your only choice is to keep ordering and ordering and ordering or physically go into the store. Ugh.

There’s a Grocery Outlet up the street from us, and we decided Friday afternoon would probably be less crowded than a Saturday morning, and took our chances going out. We wore masks and gloves, to be safe, and I left most everything home -- purse, glasses, phone. I didn’t want to have to decontaminate more than I absolutely had to.

It went pretty smoothly, all things considered. We have a full decontamination area in the pantry now: drop cloth on the floor, rolling rack with a bleach-water solution, washable wipes, clean grocery bags and gloves. So we bring everything in through the back gate, I spray everything down with bleach (or SimpleGreen, if we’re worried about bleach getting on it) in the pantry, let it sit, then Marc wipes it dry and transfers it either to our own cabinets or into clean bags for my Mom. Produce gets transferred directly to the sink where it’s washed with warm, soapy water and then dried.

Is it enough? I don’t know. It’s certainly a whole process, which makes me feel like we’re doing some amount of good, but I suppose you can’t really know for sure right now.

Saturday morning we had our breakfast biscuit sandwiches and coffee, then packed up (what we thought was) all my Mom’s groceries and drove them over. En route she texted me to ask for Splenda (*sigh*) and a flashlight, because Jim uses a flashlight to navigate to the bathroom at night. By then it was too late, but it turns out we’d forgotten all her frozen items anyway, so I told her I’d bring it the next day.

Dropped everything off with her and then went to Lowes to pick up garden soil and some drainage rock. It was still cold and cloudy out, but warm enough that we got a good hour or so of work done in the back yard -- mostly cleaning up the winter muck.

A few months ago we bought a stack of old icing buckets from a baker ($1 each!) and Marc drilled holes in the bottom and layered them with rock and soil. He also dug up one of the original three blackberry beds which we decided to retire. I’d planned to just toss the canes, but they were already greening up so nicely that he took the chance they could be salvaged and transferred them to three new planters. To my surprise they don’t seem shocked at all, so we may be able to keep them going in a better location!

Marc is debating what to do with the retired bed, but we’ll probably use it to dry firewood or store things off-season.

I went over the blackberry bushes and cut off all the old winter growth and one or two dead canes. They’re greening up beautifully, and one of them has thrown FIVE NEW CANES, two of which have sprouted in the little gap between beds. Complete assholes. I rocked off the gap so it is now unofficially our new third berry bed, and gave it a stern talking-to about behaving itself from now on. I swear to God those canes grew more since just yesterday.

The raspberries are greening up, but not so vigorously. I need the time to get them back in order, frankly -- we have to completely redo the training wire. There’s fucking thistle everywhere, I want to scream. The harder you try to get rid of the stuff the more aggressively it spreads.

Blueberries are greening up as well. I acidified the soil as best I could, but we’re giving them just this year to prove themselves. If they can’t grow berries I can’t spare the garden space, and frankly it’s just too much work trying to acidify their beds. The blackberries and raspberries would literally kill their mother to take over that space, and I’d love to try some gooseberries or something else new and different.

I pulled last year’s baby maples from their winter bed and gave them a once-over. They’ve got tiny little buds on them, it looks like they all made it -- a good five or six at least! I’ve got them in the sun now, anyway, to see if we can coax them fully back to life.

After choring I cleaned litter boxes, showered, then came downstairs and completely tore the pantry apart -- mud room, cabinet pantry, and the two sides of the kitchen island where we normally keep canned goods.

We normally keep a very well-stocked pantry, but I wanted a better idea of everything we had, and it was starting to get cluttered in a way that made it hard to get everything. I spent a good few hours -- and Marc even got into it, and was a huge help -- taking everything out, combining items, moving some bulk goods to air-tight containers, and then sorting it all back new spots.

I had a bunch on hand that was more than we needed, and offered to bring it to my Mom with her frozen stuff. In exchange she offered us some polenta and a few frozen items that neither she nor Jim would eat. Good trade.

I’ve run past Marc the idea of organizing his tool chest as well, which is currently a six-foot-tall column of absolute madness that I have to avert my eyes from, but it seems like that’s going to wait until tomorrow. Ah well.

Had tacos, watched Onward (I wasn’t expecting much but I actually really liked it), played some Animal Crossing and went to bed. Good day.

This morning Marc made chocolate chip waffles and then we popped back out again. The plan was just to drop the groceries off at my Mom’s, but we managed to get a few other things done: brought over the old tiered planter so she can use it for herbs and annuals, and set up the frame for a raised garden bed so she can grow some veggies (with my help, no doubt). Later this week I’ll go over and lay down some weed blocker for her and fill it with soil. I’ve got more than enough broccoli sprouts to spare and I’m sure the same will be true with the peppers, so she’ll have that if nothing else.

Afterwards we hit Lowes again, picking up a few more bags of top soil, bird seed, and more buckets.

Today was absolutely beautiful, cloudy on-and-off but warm and good for gardening. We did a bang up job!

Marc gathered all the old wood paneling and other crap that’s been accumulating and got it into one spot so we can call a haul-away company. He also cleaned up most of the leaf litter from around the yard and helped me organize the little collapsible greenhouse we got for free late last year. It’s really handy, we’re already talking about replacing it with something more permanent.

I planted some of the broccoli sprouts and put them out in the sun. Here’s hoping! The three onion bulbs I planted a few weeks ago were sprouting up green so I got those into a planter and plugged most of the rest of the bulbs into biodegradable containers to see if we can get them growing as well. Onions seem complicated, but I’ll do my best.

I’ve been saving every kind of little container I could get my hands on, these past weeks, and I filled them all up with soil and got some eggplant seeds going as well. The bell peppers are just now starting to sprout, they need a bit longer, but I think they’ll get there. Also planted some pinto beans and cat grass. I’ve still got some baby spinach and pumpkins to get going, but I’m holding onto those for just now.

We sorted the “guest” patio chairs off into the side yard, as we don’t really anticipate having anyone over this summer. We can always break them out again if we need to, it’s easy enough, but right now I’ve got almost every single sunny spot dedicated to something we can grow and eat.

We’ll have tomatoes at some point, too, but I’d prefer to buy them as seedlings. I’m already unsure just how well the current round of babies is going to do. I’m so worried about that broccoli, but I guess at some point you have to just let it do its thing and hope for the best.

I hope everything comes up. I’ve read everything I can, but sometimes it all gets confused and muddled, so at some point I just sort of have to... hope. Supposedly last year’s corn should return, but man... I don’t know. We’ll keep an eye on it. If it hasn’t come up by the time seedlings start appearing in the store we’ll just pull them up and replant. That was a wonderful exercise last year.

We also put out more clover seed in the front (last year’s clover is BOOMING), and spread some wildflower seeds around as well. Marc filled up the bird feeders, hosed off the patio and set up the chairs. We’re going to buy a better pressure washer than the old electric one we have from the old house, both for our use and so my parents don’t have to keep hiring someone to clean their siding. That will make a big difference.

It’s amazing what a difference an afternoon of work made in the back yard -- it looks and feels so much better. Afterwards we got showered up and changed, and then a little bit ago I made some veggie fried brown rice with steamed veggie dumplings. A little later on I’m going to make us some sakura lattes and maybe something light to snack on for dessert.

And how are you?

#oc #personal

1 note · View note

let-it-raines · 5 years

Text

Rising From The Ashes (Ch. 4)

Summary: When her husband died, Emma wasn’t sure that she could ever move on. He left her with a broken heart and a baby who was only three-months old. It’s enough to take most people down, to make them not want to keep going, but Emma Swan isn’t most people. She’s stronger than she has any right to be. And after years of heartache, she’s found ways to move on…one of those being in Neal’s best friend, Killian Jones. As she’s always known, however, things are more complicated than they ever seem to be.

Rating: Mature

A/N: I honestly love writing this story because of things I’m having to weave together, but I’m not going to lie, I love how you guys react :D

Double “-/-” around flashback!

AO3: Beginning | Current

Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4

Tag list: @resident-of-storybrooke @captainsjedi @captswanis4vr @teamhook @ekr032-blog-blog @mayquita @bmbbcs4evr @wellhellotragic @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @shady-swan-jones @snowbellewells @snow-into-ash @andiirivera @mariakov81 @thejollyroger-writer @shireness-says @kristi555 @facesiousbutton82 @superchocovian

“So I’m really into trains right now,” Henry tells Neal, showing off the set he’d gotten for his eighth birthday last month while they all sit in the living room and attempt to have a normal conversation that’s not full of awkward silences and pauses after someone finishes talking.

Neal is sitting in their living room talking to his son. It’s beautiful. It’s wonderful, really. Neal deserves to get to know Henry, and Henry sure as hell deserves to get to know Neal. Killian just thought this would never happen. Neal was dead. He was never coming back, and yet he did. He came back.

He’s here.

It’s a miracle if Killian has ever seen it. His mate is back from the dead, and he’s getting to spend time with his son.

His mate is back, and he gets to spend time with all of them. With Emma. With him. It’s a reunion in every sense of the word, and as happy as he is, as happy as he can be, he still feels a little sense of dread every time he looks at Neal. That’s not something he’s ever really felt before, even when Neal was suggesting idiotic plans on a night out.

Killian’s starting to think that he may never come up with a solution that’s not going to hurt someone when it comes to their new family situation. And as much as he doesn’t want to be the person who takes the pain, who is the one who gets hurt the most, he’d suffer so Emma can be happy. It might be the worst decision of his life, but all he wants is Emma’s happiness.

Even if it kills him.

He wants Neal’s happiness too. Neal is getting a second chance at life, and he should get to be happy. After what he’s been through, he deserves the world.

But right now Killian and Emma are still together. Things might not be normal, but neither of them have made any sort of move to end things. Bloody hell does he not want to end things. He knows that when their lives calm down, when they get Neal back into a regular schedule and life, he and Emma will have time to actually talk about things, more than just yesterday at the kitchen table for five minutes while Henry was distracted with TV and Ada was eating. Right now, though, their focus is on their children and on Neal. Not on them.

As important as his relationship is to him, it’s not a pressing matter right now.

Which is exactly why Neal is set up in their guest bedroom as of this morning and is currently spending time with Henry. In a move that he absolutely did not like, they had to tell Henry that he couldn’t talk about Ada, not yet. His boy is a brilliant lad, so he’d gotten the most incredulous look on his face, and Killian had lied to him about the reasoning, stating something about it being a surprise for later. It felt as if lead had dropped in his stomach.

They’re doing what they have to do, though. They’re getting through this. They’ll let Henry spend time with Neal while Mary Margaret discreetly watches Ada in the kitchen where Neal hasn’t been, and after Henry and Neal have had some time together, Killian and Emma will take the plunge and tell him how life has changed since he’s been gone.

They’re not going to hide their child, not permanently, but they have to if just for a little while to do what’s best for Neal.

If he’s been alive this entire time, he has to have known that things would change, that life wouldn’t stand still. That’s not how things work. Even when you don’t want the earth to keep rotating and revolving, it does.

There’s no stopping it.

Ripping off the band-aid, he’d said yesterday when talking to Emma at the kitchen table and again before they’d gone to bed. It’s easier than living a lie, living in secret, and it’s what they have to do. For all of the confusion, the one thing he knows that he and Emma agree on completely is the fact that their children come before anything else.

Without a doubt.

They are the only part of this that are not complicated, even if it doesn’t seem that way now. Hell, they’ve got their son lying and Mary Margaret hiding their daughter in the other room. She’s been fussy lately, so Emma didn’t want her out of the house, especially since they usually all spend their mornings together playing with her before he goes to work. And they wanted Mary Margaret around to help with Henry while they talk to Neal since they’re not exactly expecting the smoothest of sailings. Nothing bad, really. They just know it’ll be shocking for him.

So maybe the kids are a bit complicated for today, but it’ll get better. It’ll get better, and they’ll all adjust. Things take time.

“I liked boats before that,” Henry continues, moving his train across the coffee table, “but then my friend Avery rode on a train that went under the ocean, and I thought that was super cool. Plus, Mary Margaret had us read about them during reading time.”

“He’s always getting into new things,” Emma helpfully supplies, and her hand reaches for his, their fingers touching before she suddenly pulls back, like she’s remembering where they are. “I’m sure by the new year it’ll be airplanes or something.”

“So you’re creative, buddy?” Neal questions, reaching over to ruffle Henry’s hair, and Killian internally cringes, knowing that Henry hates that. But Neal doesn’t know. He has no idea. He’s obviously trying, and they’ll work with him. They have to work with him. That’s the only way this will work. Besides, Neal deserves to know all of the little things his son loves and hates. He deserves to get to be a dad after missing so much.

Killian cannot imagine how it must feel to have missed so much of his child’s life. He doesn’t think he could cope had he missed all of his firsts with Ada, all of the moments, actually. He doesn’t know how he’d cope if he’d missed them with Henry too. Having to go to work is hard enough when Emma sends him videos of Ada completely rolling over or laughing. God, he loves her laugh. It’s like pure joy.

He’d been around when Henry was an infant, but not as much as he wishes he could have been now that he’s been there for nearly everything the past seven or so years. He’d missed all the firsts like the laughs and the smiles, rolling over and crawling and such. He and Emma had been close but not close like they grew to be. So in a way he did miss several big moments in Henry’s life too, and he does deeply wish that he’d been around on the day that Emma heard Henry giggle for the first time. The first time he heard Ada…he can’t even describe it, and if he could change some things, he’d have been around for absolutely everything for Henry too.

“Yeah,” Henry answers, patting down his hair until it lays in weird patterns on his head, “I like a bunch of different stuff. Daddy bought me a new storybook for my birthday, too, and I can write my own stories in it. I wrote one the other day about a train that can fly. But it’s different than an airplane.”

He feels Emma’s entire body tense next to his, and when he dares look over at her, he can see tears already streaming down her face while her hand messes with the pendant on her necklace. He wants to wipe them from her cheeks, but he can’t. Instead he quickly squeezes her knee before looking over at Neal who looks confused, his brows knitted together and his lips pursed even if Killian swears that he saw a flash of anger at first glance.

He's not sure of anything, though, not with the way his heart is absolutely pounding in his chest. Maybe they should have asked for a doctor to be here as well.

For when he inevitably has some kind of heart attack.

“What are you talking about Henry? How could I have bought you a book?”

“You didn’t. My daddy did.”

“Henry, I’m your daddy.”

“No,” Henry laughs, and Killian would step in if his voice was working right now, if he could focus on something besides the pounding in his head and in his heart. They should have realized this would happen. How did they not? They thought about him talking about Ada, but they never thought about him calling Killian daddy in front of Neal. Shit. He thought they’d thought of everything, thought they’d worked out how to do this in the short time that they had to work through things, but Henry’s obviously decided to speed things along. The damn psychiatrist and all of those specialists have not helped this transition at all. “You’re my dad. He,” Henry says as he points to Killian, “is my daddy.”

“Henry,” Emma croaks, her voice breaking, “why don’t you go in the other room and ask Mary Margaret for something to eat, okay?”

“Okay. Do you think I can have some chicken nuggets even though it’s the morning?”

“Yeah, kid, sure. Whatever you want.”

Henry walks out of the room without a care in the world, waving at Neal with this giant smile on his face before leaving. To be so young and innocent. It’s a wonderful blessing.

“Emma,” Neal grits, his jaw ticking while his fist continuously clenches and unclenches. It’s a sign of anger management that Killian saw time and time again when he was going through therapy after his first deployment. “Why did he just say that Killian is his father?”

Emma looks to him, her eyes bright with both shed and unshed tears, and he simply nods, trying to force the tight smile on his face into a comforting one. His heartbeat is irregular, his face heating up, and he’s sure that the entire neighborhood can hear it. It’s as loud as a drum beating in his ears.

“Neal,” Emma hesitantly begins, a gulp visibly moving through her throat while her hand shakes, “I…we have something to tell you, and I don’t know how you’re going to take it.”

“What is it, Ems? Because if it’s just that Henry thinks Killian is like a father figure, that’s great. He’s his godfather anyways. I just think it’s a little weird that he calls him daddy. I feel like that’s something that has to be taught and encouraged.”

-/-

“Daddy,” Henry yells, running toward him and wrapping his arms around his legs, the force nearly knocking Killian back as he walks in the front door. “Momma has a surprise for you.”

“A surprise?” he laughs, picking Henry up and absolutely ignoring the way he just called him daddy. That has never happened before, but if he didn’t have a lanky five year old on his hip, he’d probably cry from the affection and confusion of it all. “What could Mummy possibly have to surprise me?”

“It’s a secret, so I can’t tell you.”

“Ah,” he sighs, nodding his head as he walks them back into the house and to the kitchen where he can hear Emma moving around. What the bloody hell is she doing in the kitchen? They’re supposed to go out to dinner tonight. “So I’ll just have to wait to find out then.”

“Happy birthday,” Emma greets when he and Henry walk into the room. She steps away from where she’s icing a cake and moves toward him, wrapping her arms around his neck before she slants her lips over his. She tastes of sugar, and he absolutely cannot wait to explore that a little more later. Once Henry is in bed. The lad needs to go to sleep early tonight. He won’t, but a man can wish. It is his birthday after all.

“Hmm, thank you, my love,” he tells her, kissing her one more time until he pulls back and looks at Henry who’s got the most mischievous smile on his face. “Young Master Henry tells me that you have a surprise for me.” “I do,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up while she falls back on flat feet, her height drastically changing as she moves back over to their counter. “Because you, my sweet man, are now thirty-five, I’ve made you a cake. And it’s edible too. I know because I had David help me.”

“So I should thank David for this creation?”

“Probably. But that’s not the only surprise.” He raises an eyebrow. What has she been planning? When has she even had time to plan? The end of the school year is a busy time for her. She’s been running herself into the ground trying to get all of those seniors to graduate.

“Really now?”

“Mhm,” she hums. “Henry, baby, why don’t you go get it?”

Henry squirms in his arms until Killian puts him down, his long legs running into the other room. God, he’s really gotten big. He’s got to stop growing up. He’ll be six this year, and no part of Killian is okay with it. He wants time to stop ticking by him because he’s more upset about Henry turning six than he is upset about him officially being in his mid-thirties as of this morning.

“Darling, you really didn’t need to go through all of this fuss.”

“Nonsense. You always do it for us. Why shouldn’t we do it for you?”

“Because you don’t have to.” He walks over to her and wraps his arm around her waist, dipping his head and kissing her again. “I love you, Swan.”

“I love you too, babe.”

“Shhh, shhh,” he hears Henry say, and for a brief moment he wonders if Emma really went out and bought a dog for them, but then he sees familiar blue eyes and curly hair that definitely don’t belong to a dog.

Liam.

Bloody hell. Liam is here.

“Happy birthday, little brother,” Liam wishes, a bright smile on his face. He can’t believe this. He can’t believe Emma flew his brother here from London just for his birthday.

“Younger, you ponce,” Killian laughs, stepping away from Emma and walking over to Liam, wrapping him up in a hug, feeling immediate warmth when Liam’s arms wrap around his shoulders. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

Liam pats him on the back a few times before pulling back and clapping him on the shoulder. “Your lovely lady called me a few weeks ago and asked if I could manage to fly across the pond to see you. And how could I pass up seeing you as well as my favorite little man?”

“That’s me, right?” Henry asks, standing on his toes and scrambling so he can be closer to eyelevel with he and Liam.

“Of course that’s you,” Liam promises, squatting down to Henry’s level. “You did such a good job helping me.”

“Thank you.”

Killian lets Liam and Henry talk before walking back over to Emma and wrapping his arms around her waist again, burying his face in her hair and kissing along her jaw, only increasing his efforts when she squeals. “I bloody love you,” he growls into her ear, biting down on the lobe the slightest bit, “and I absolutely cannot wait to get you alone tonight so that we can celebrate my birthday in private.” “Yeah?” Emma giggles, twisting in his arms.

“Most definitely. You have plans for me, and I, darling, have plans for you.”

“I’m amazed that you guys are able to live with a child,” Liam laughs, walking over to them with his hands over Henry’s ears, “because you are not subtle at all.”

“Don’t be jealous, Liam,” Emma teases, pulling back from him and swiping her finger through the icing on the cake. “I’m sure we will spend plenty of time with you too. Though I do suggest you run to the Walgreens around the corner and gets some earplugs. Your room shares a wall with ours.”

Later, after they’ve gone out to dinner with everyone – David, Mary Margaret, and Leo joining them at the restaurant – and he’s spent some time with Liam, catching up on everything, he and Emma are lounging in bed. He’s exhausted but sated. Though, if Emma keeps running her foot up and down his calf like she’s doing, he’ll be ready and willing for another round soon enough.

Who says he’s an old man? He has stamina.

“Have you had a good day?” she asks, her finger curling his chest hair until she releases it and moves onto another patch.

“Aye, wonderful,” he promises, patting her back before sliding his hand down and lightly tapping her ass, squeezing the firm skin in a way that makes Emma giggle. “You are wonderful. You know that?”

“I do, but I like to be reminded in ways other than my son giving me gifts he made in school that say that.”

Emma kisses his chest, just above his heart, and his breath hitches. He’s got to talk to her about what happened when he got home. “Darling, I need to talk to you about something.”

All of her movements stop and she pulls back, sitting up in bed and pulling the blanket around her shoulders, closing herself into a ball. “What?”

“When I got home today, uh,” he reaches up to scratch behind his ear, “Henry called me daddy.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, and, like, I’m fine with it. I have no qualms. I’ve always thought of Henry like he was my son, I love him like that, but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable with it. This is all totally up to you of how we want to go about this.”

“Babe, you’re Henry’s parent too. You know that, right? It might not be legal or biological or whatever, but that doesn’t matter. You love him. He loves you. It’s…you’ve been a dad to him for almost his entire life, and if he wants to call you daddy, he should be able to. I know that you’re in this for the long haul, that you’re not going to leave us.”

“But what about – ”

“Neal.”

“Yeah.”

“Of course I wish that Neal were here to be Henry’s dad, but he’s not. And he’s not coming back. And honestly, if there was anyone in the world who Neal would want to help take care of Henry, it’d be you.”

“So you don’t think we should ask him not to call me that?”

“No,” Emma sighs, leaning forward and cupping his cheeks with her palms, “we shouldn’t. When he’s older and can understand a little better, we’ll explain things to him. But, Killian, you are his daddy. You are.”

“Daddy,” he repeats, trying to weigh the words on his tongue. He’s obviously feeling bold tonight because he asks something he’s been hoarding away for months now. “Love…do you ever…would you…”

“Yes.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.”

“You’re going to ask if I ever think about having another baby. With you preferably.” He chuckles, all of the happiness of today settling comfortably in his stomach. “Yeah, the with me part is pretty big. So do you?”

“Yeah,” she smiles, and he’s continuously blown away with how beautiful she is, with how much he loves her, “I do. I want to, actually. I feel like…I feel like it’s right for us, you know? We should have kids. Henry should have a sibling. I don’t know. It’s hard to explain. I just…I want it. With you. More than I can even describe.”

He tugs Emma back down on top of them, letting her chest land on his and their legs tangle together while he caresses her cheek, looking into her eyes and hoping that she can see just how much he loves her. “Emma Swan, I would love to make a baby with you one day.”

“Do you want to practice a little more because I have to get my implant – ”

He doesn’t let her finish, bringing her lips down to his and sliding them over hers in a kiss that is a hell of a lot sweeter than the icing that was on his birthday cake.

Thirty-five might be his favorite birthday.

-/-

It’s not really something that has to be taught, but Killian’s not dumb enough to say that out loud. Kids are pretty intuitive, and they can figure out a lot of things on his own. Killian’s still not sure what prompted Henry to call him “daddy” for the first time. He’s not sure if someone at his school accidentally mistook Killian for Henry’s father, not knowing the situation, or if maybe the kids in his kindergarten class asked about it. Honestly, it could have been a million little things, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. He is Henry’s dad just as much as Neal is.

He wants to say more than, but that’s not fair to Neal. Not at all. It’s not his fault that he hasn’t been around.

“No, um,” Emma stutters, biting her bottom lip, “that’s not it.”

“Fuck, Ems,” Neal groans while his fists still move, fingers fidgeting. “Just tell me.”

They shouldn’t have done this yet. They should have given Neal more time. He’s only been home from…wherever he was, the details still unclear even to him, for a month. And he’s only been in their house for a day. For less than a day. Only for a few hours. They were at least going to give him this morning, give him a moment to breathe, but plans never stick.

They weren’t going to have Henry just blurt out the news.

“Henry calls Killian daddy because to him, Killian is his daddy,” Emma explains, fidgeting her fingers on her knees. “He’s known about you for awhile, since we felt like he was old enough to understand, and he knows that Killian isn’t his biological father, that you are. But he just kind of started calling Killian that when he was five, and Killian and I agreed that it was okay. And, um,” she gulps, and at this point he can’t not touch her, so he reaches over and twines their fingers together, squeezing her hand and letting her know that it’s all okay, letting her know that she can stop fidgeting, that she can do this. As soon as their fingers interlock, however, Killian sees a flash of confusion flicker across Neal’s eyes before his jaw ticks and his teeth obviously grind, his knuckles going white.

“My kid calls Killian daddy because you’re together,” Neal finishes for Emma, and he feels the lead in his stomach grow heavier. Can he really be this weighed down by his own guilt? Should he even really be this guilty?

“We, um,” Killian begins, trying to take some of the weight off of Emma since he knows she must be drowning in it, somehow more than him, “we also have a daughter together. Her name is Ada, and she’ll be five months old tomorrow.”

“So what?” Neal darkly chuckles, his hand reaching up to rub at the hairs on his chin, “you knocked her up and then tried to be together? Just because you guys fucked up doesn’t mean you have to try to be in a relationship. Also, what the hell man? You slept with my wife? You better have been drunk or something because damn, that’s messed up. I never would have slept with Milah, and she was smoking hot, which was probably why she so easily cheated on you in the first place.”

Anger pulses through his entire body, and while he knew that this would be hard, that there would be no way Neal was immediately accepting of this, he didn’t expect such vile remarks thrown at them. First, that he implied that he and Emma had to be intoxicated to sleep together. Yes, they first kissed while drunk, but they also put a stop to it. They’re together because they love each other, and he didn’t knock Emma up. It was a planned choice. Neal speaks like he owns Emma, and he doesn’t. No one owns Emma, and she can make her own damn choices. The Milah thing stings, Neal throwing his past scars in his face, but he’s in no way pissed about that. Neal has just insulted his character, his love, and his child. He will not stand for it no matter what Neal has been through.

“Neal,” Killian grits, his teeth practically grinding to dust and his hand holding onto Emma’s so tightly that he hears her whine in pain before he releases her, “I understand that you’ve been through a lot, more than we can understand, but you can’t talk to us that way. It’s a difficult situation, but it’s not going to help if we’re throwing insults at each other.”

“You fucked my wife, dude. How am I supposed to respond to that? A fucking gift basket.”

“First of all,” Emma sneers, her voice clipped and concise as her hands tremble, “there are children in the other room, children who do not need to hear all of this, especially the language you’re practically screaming. Secondly, Neal, none of this is ideal. Not a bit of it, but things happened. I lived a life that made me happy. We thought you were dead, and somehow you’re alive. Shouldn’t that be our main focus?”

“It’s kind of hard to focus on that right now. I spent years dreaming of coming home to you and Henry, Ems. And I finally get to, and that fantasy is destroyed. I wanted to be a family. Can’t we be a family again?”

Neal’s voice breaks, tears beginning to stream down his face, and Emma looks at Killian, sorrow and anger mixed in a storm in her eyes, before patting his hand and going to squat next to Neal, rubbing her hand up and down his back in soothing circles as she whispers quietly in his ear, Neal nodding his head up and down before he twists and sobs into Emma’s shoulder, his eyes flickering up to Killian for a brief moment.

But not brief enough that Killian doesn’t notice a flash of…something there.

He could punch a wall, break his hand, and not at all be sorry about it right now for the storm that’s raging inside of him, one that he knows is much darker than the one he saw in Emma’s eyes.

This is going to be hell.

#rising from the ashes #cs ff #cs fic

74 notes · View notes

love-mikes-hinoda-blog · 5 years

Text

Finding Construction Home on the Web

Qualifying for a house construction loan is typically harder than qualifying for a conventional mortgage. You'll be given a Closing Disclosure three days before closing that will provide details on the financial loan and how much money that you will need at closing. At the close of the construction period, you'd wind up with a $300,000 permanent loan.

The financial loans are serviced by a neighborhood relationship officer. Construction loans allow it to be possible to create a home when you might otherwise be not able to achieve that. They can help you finance the actual building process, but obtaining such a loan is different from applying for a regular mortgage.

Your permission isn't required in the event the sharing of your PHI is associated with your treatment, payment, healthcare operations or performing certain insurance or healthcare maintenance organization functions. You can do the same when purchasing a new house, but there's often an extra resource. Grow a comprehensive, itemized collection of material expenses. Actually, the bureau claims that by looking for rates with just 3 lenders, homebuyers are somewhat more likely to locate a reduce rate. In the event the inspector calls for more inspection by another expert contractor, learn if the inspector is telling you there might be a significant issue or in the event the inspector isn't licensed to deal with that matter. If this is the case, you may have recourse against the preceding owner. The bank or lender is lending money for something which is to be constructed, with the assumption it will have a particular value when it's finished. Once it has been approved and construction begins, the lender will monitor the progress of the project and pay the builder at designated intervals. If your lender isn't going to finance 100% of your selections, you will be asked to pay for it in cash. You will want to be building your credit score too, since it will play a bigger role in your qualification. While constructing house if you're unaware of the simple info, there's a terrific opportunity to loose money, time and quality in construction. Generally, the very first draw comes from the purchaser's down payment (so it's the purchaser's money most at risk). What You Must Know About Construction Home The web site of the National Home Funeral Alliance is a very good place to get started. Personal Injury Lawyer Referral Find a capable and extremely competent personal injury attorney in where you are. Speak to us for more info. Construction of a structure is no simple task. We service the whole Essex county. There'll be some fantastic home builders, some normal home builders, and some awful home builders. Beazer Homes is composed of lots of companies (Affiliates). This subdivision is situated in the Vegas zip code region of 89183. You should make sure your Realtor is a person who will work well with you. What Is So Fascinating About Construction Home? If you're sold on the notion of a new construction home, it's important to make certain you're studying the complete financial picture. If you're prepared to obtain a house, you might be on the fence about whether to decide on a current property or build something from scratch. You want to construct your dream home and you have to purchase the land. Some third party websites, but do keep an eye on your browsing activities when they serve you content, which lets them tailor the things that they present to you. When many men and women contact construction companies for big projects like building or adding an addition onto a home, many customers are interested in finding somebody to take on smaller jobs, like building storage solutions in their present-day home. When it's time to request the assistance of a professional, then start your search at Article City. It doesn't just lowers the influence on the planet, but will also lessen the utility costs to the building occupier over the life span of the building. Check to see whether your employee handbook includes any warning about the chance of searches. Before you can construct a new residence on a part of land, it needs to be cleared, graded and possess the right utilities installed. Sooner or later, a brand name for your construction company will go a very long approach to getting you the kind of success you need and the regional or even national reputation you want to constantly attract more profitable small business. Your company has the know-how, education, and experience to pull and convert prospective clients, while keeping your existing clients informed with a large assortment of construction blog ideas. Our team takes everything into account, from your building envelope to views you wish to capture and distinctive spaces you want to make. The History of Construction Home Refuted The web site of the National Home Funeral Alliance is a very good place to get started. Personal Injury Lawyer Referral Find a capable and extremely competent personal injury attorney in where you are. Get in touch with us today to find out more. You should know some criteria for selecting an accountable roofing contractor. Habitat homebuyers help build their own houses alongside volunteers and pay an inexpensive mortgage. If renting is a better choice for you, I want to hear about that, too. Beazer Homes is composed of lots of companies (Affiliates). This subdivision is situated in the Vegas zip code region of 89183. You should make sure your Realtor is a person who will work well with you. The Basic Facts of Construction Home If you're sold on the notion of a new construction home, it's important to make certain you're studying the complete financial picture. If you're prepared to obtain a house, you might be on the fence about whether to decide on a current property or build something from scratch. You want to construct your dream home and you have to purchase the land. The building blog also has testimonials, along with their contact information prominently in the appropriate sidebar in the attempts to turn readers into customers. Successful branding of a structure or demolition company is more complicated than simply buying the very first company name which suits your tastes, however. Repairing and keeping a house is a challenging job which needs a lot of time and energy. While homes may have originated in pre-history, there are several notable stages by which cultures pass to achieve the present degree of modernization. No formal presentation is going to be given, so residents may drop in any moment during the evening to supply their input. The form might appear somewhat overwhelming in the beginning, but by taking it one step at a moment, you will reveal the actual price tag of homeownership. To that end, you're want to pick out a system which can expand with your enterprise. In the area of day trading, it's about obtaining a return on investment. Our team takes everything into account, from your building envelope to views you wish to capture and distinctive spaces you want to make. Construction Home for Dummies When construction was completed, the building loan can be rolled over into a permanent fixed-rate home loan. In some instances, the last payment on your construction loan will get due and you'll need to pay a fee to extend that loan at least, until the home is finished and you're in a position to refinance into an end loan. The second loan is occasionally known as the end loan. To obtain more information on expediter services kindly visit https://permitsexpeditednow.com It is crucial that you learn all your choices before you begin any form of construction. Due to the shortage of current collateral and increased risk exposure for lenders, it can be tough to get qualified for a house construction loan. Otherwise, it could be more challenging to discover a lender and fewer financing options might be available based on the chance of the builder not following through. After the project is finished, you will earn a massive balloon payment to repay the loan. As a rule of thumb, the builder's financing may lessen the time required to proceed from application through settlement since the whole procedure is essentially under the constraint of the builder. Comparing various kinds of financing illustrates key differences between construction loans and other sorts of property loans. Figuring out how to fulfill the requirements of your customers and customers is frequently the biggest hurdle for new small business owners. With the beginning of any home purchase, the very first thing a buyer must do is shop for a lender. The straightforward act of invading a person's privacy isn't a criminal offense, though certain procedures of this kind of invasion could be considered criminal. Another noteworthy suggestion to consider when selecting a house builder is to converse with homeowners whose home has been built by the possible builder. There are a number of important tips that new construction home buyers ought to be following, but they frequently do not. Certainly should you decide that buying a current home is a better choice, the other 9 steps discussed within this write-up will mean nothing to you. Either might be a sensible solution based on the situation and possible costs. In the end, the cost will change as you start to add things you want so be skeptical of price as you get started asking the builder for features in your new house. So you don't cover the price of the house upfront until it's built. The Construction Home Stories After all, you weren't accountable for the unpermitted construction. You're searching to get off pen and paper. When you haven't read my HUB on the best way to understand window energy ratings, I recommend you do so since a number of the terminology introduced there is discussed here. Construction of a structure is no simple task. Constructing a building may be complex practice. If renting is a better choice for you, I want to hear about that, too. Beazer Homes is composed of lots of companies (Affiliates). That's the reason why it's essential for you to guarantee you're working with a top local realtor. You should make sure your Realtor is a person who will work well with you. Construction Home Secrets When construction was completed, the building loan can be rolled over into a permanent fixed-rate home loan. Your loan closing date is going to be scheduled. At the close of the construction period, you'd wind up with a $300,000 permanent loan. We don't offer information to such agencies or companies for marketing or business purposes. Above all else, customers desire a high level of trust in your organization. A couple of businesses provide home owners the selection of arbitration or going to court. The very first option, that's the most frequent, is buying a good deal within a new construction development. A normal title insurance plan isn't going to defend you against unpermitted construction on your premises. While all of the info is there, we'd recommend including some headers, paragraph breaks or perhaps a list format to create the information a little more digestible. Construction loans are vital for potential homeowners who need to construct their home. If you already have a house, you might be asked to sell it prior to applying for a construction loan to construct your next home. If you don't need a newer house, you can ask your agent to restrict your search to homes built ahead of a particular calendar year. Building your own house may look like a fantastic notion, but there are numerous risks related to construction loans. If you only got a construction loan, you will almost surely will need to get long-term financing upon completion of the house. Timing You ought to start investigating construction loans when you have resolved to construct your property. When there are programs created to assist first-time home buyers with negative credit and limited cash available for a down payment, to be eligible for a construction loan you'll want strong credit and adequate savings. Along with paying off your debts and making a budget, you will also want talk to a financial advisor before purchasing a house. The most essential part of the house buying process is to locate the most suitable team to work with and the very first teammate you should find should be a mortgage lender. The Basic Facts of Construction Home The main reason for the lot of new communities being built is the significant number of individuals moving here. Someone's exclusive rights to control their name and likeness to stop others from exploiting without permission is guarded in similar manner to a trademark action with the individual's likeness, as opposed to the trademark, being the topic of the protection. In the usa, every individual has a right to privacy. Building a house can be a fantastic experience if you wish to design something unique or specific to your wants and the requirements of your family members. Builders are on task to finish their projects on tight schedules, and we wish to continue to keep our portion of the deal by doing work in time and in a manner that will represent your quality guarantees. Building your own house may be an excellent and enjoyable experience but additionally, it may be a long and costly approach.

One of the greatest things you can do to help your kids is to refrain from arguing around their other parent. Instead, figure out ways to repurpose things you have and quit using things that have eco-friendly alternatives like plastic water bottles and straws. No matter your choice, 1 thing is clear.

Sooner or later, a brand name for your construction company will go a very long approach to getting you the kind of success you need and the regional or even national reputation you want to constantly attract more profitable small business. Your company has the know-how, education, and experience to pull and convert prospective clients, while keeping your existing clients informed with a large assortment of construction blog ideas. Starting and running your own company is tough, especially in the event that you don't have a lot of prior experience.

1 note · View note

tealsnapdragonfics · 5 years

Text

Hallows Eve Engadement pts 1-3

Summary: Having dated 3 years and living together, Klaus decides it’s time to take their relationship further, but Klaus doesn’t know exactly how to go about it, so he swallows his Goldstein pride and confides in Tiva Nasia, Ania’s best friend. But what will happen when Joel pull Ania away every time Klaus tries to bring up the topic? Will he ever get to ask the question, or will his jealousy of Joel get the better of him forever?

Tiva’s POV

The light had just barely began to peek into the dorm room when I opened my eyes.

I took a deep breath, preparing to brave the awakening of the living dead. The last thing I wanted to do was wake Ania up after a rough night, but the headmaster would kill me if Ania was late one more time. Unlike myself, Ania was famous for sleeping in late, and Klaus always gave me a glare every time Ania was late to class. Creeping over to the bed, I nudged her arm before backing off quickly. Instantly, her other hand snatched a blade and swung over her body like instinct.

“Don’t you know by now not to wake me up, Tiva? This is the third time this week I’ve nearly killed you,” Ania said while not opening her eyes.

“Come on, Ania, you can’t afford to be late today, of all days.”

“How come I have to go to the stupid meeting and not you?”

“You’re the prefect, not me.” Ania groaned out of frustration before getting up, tossing her sword into the wall and sitting up reluctantly. As her eyes opened, they weren’t their usual orange color but red as the flames that left Cerberus’s mouth when he got too excited. This was normal whenever she didn’t get enough sleep. As she got dressed, her eyes faded back to her orange shade, although it still retained the red undertones.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door. When I opened the door, Prefect Klaus was standing there. The longer I stared at him, the more uncomfortable he grew. After a minute in silence, I called out to Ania, “Your boyfriend is here!” The response I received wasn’t exactly what I expected. All I got was a groan of defiance, as if to say ‘I don’t wanna go! I’m exhausted!’ Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t help but sigh. It was the same routine every time she had to go be a functioning human and not her exhausted demon self.

After five minutes, I gave up and left the door for a moment to drag Ania out of the dorm. Much to her displeasure, of course. Ania continued to pout in the doorway. Without warning, Klaus lifted her up like a doll and walked off with her in his arms. Sigh… Just another start of a normal day.

Ania”s POV

As Klaus carted me to the school in his arms as though I was a doll, I couldn’t help but place my face on his chest and close my eyes, hoping to sneak in more sleep.

To be honest, I didn’t mind helping the students with their magic and all that, but when it came to not getting any sleep due to a student summoning an untamable creature unless you were born in hell, it was a good way to put me on edge for the next week. The spell had succeeded, but the student failed to step away from the creature and just kept pestering it till it attacked. By that point, the idiot was as good as dead, and it was none other than the school’s favorite spell singer, Joel Crawford, my childhood ex-friend.

While it was unfortunate that the angry hellhound didn’t manage to kill him, I also had to stay up even later to cover up the incident. There are times in a wizard’s life that they wished they were dead, but what I wished was for Joel to not have ever lived so that I stop nearly killing Tiva every other morning. As we got closer to Klaus’s office, he slowed down, and I sensed exactly what he was up to.

Klaus’s POV

As we neared my office to begin the tasks for today, I couldn’t hold back the urge to tease Ania.

I had gotten the brilliant idea to make her think I would drop her. As I began to loosen my grip, the words that left her mouth stunned me, “Klaus, you do, you die.” I was dumbfounded for a moment. How did she know? Reality smacked me in the face. She was half demon. Of course she could sense my movements. That was one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her. Instead of fake-dropping her, I lifted her upwards into the air slightly. Before I could catch her, she somersaulted onto her feet before walking up to me and punching me on the arm.

“Ow, yeash, I was just playing around,” I joked. The brief shimmer of red in her eyes told me that she didn’t get a wink of sleep after the hellhound incident. I engulfed her in a hug out of apology. When I let go of Ania, Randy and the headmaster walked into the office, closing the door behind them. Knowing full well it wasn’t professional, Ania sat down on my lap as I asked, “What the hell is Randy doing here? I thought this was an official meeting.”

“It is. We’re discussing the setup of the annual Gendonlune Ball taking place here instead of the usual location,” Headmaster Randolph answered. With a rather loud groan, Ania buried her face into my neck, totally ignoring the headmaster. I continued to interrogate the headmaster, “Why is the ball happening here, rather than in town like normal?”

Randy blushed a bright red as Headmaster Randolph answered, “Randy forgot to make arrangements with the town, then decided to argue with their manager in public. Unfortunately, Randy is permanently banned from the town, and there is simply no way to fix things in time for the ball..”

Rolling my eyes with an exasperated sigh, I questioned. “Why do we have to go out of our way for the kids of this school? All they ever do is get drunk, no offence.”

“This year, alcohol is banned because it is Halloween-themed, and there will be a haunted house maze that everyone must try to escape without magic at midnight. You can see why the prefects must organize this. With the enlistment of some talented students, we can still make this a success.” Ania rose her head up while keeping her eyes closed and asked, “Am I allowed to terrify the students in my demon form?” The only response the headmaster gave was a sneaky smile.

Turning to look in my direction the only response I got from her was a fanged grin and golden eyes The expression alone told me she was going to make even the bravest and most powerful students shit themselves.

Headmaster Randolph asked, “So, we’ll have Joel help as part of his punishment, and Elias and Luca will also be helping with the setup. Is there any other students that should be pulled out of class to help too?” After thinking for a few moments, one individual popped in my mind. There was a girl that most people forgot existed in the first place, who is powerful and loves a good haunted house.

“What about Tiva Nasia? She enjoys this kind of stuff, and she can build some stuff along with enchanting.” Only fast footsteps echoed in from the hall as everyone else in the office just stared at me like I was insane. Ania finally said, “Tiva’s even worse at magic than I was. Are you damaged in the head?” Her face said, “Why the hell are you bringing up Tiva’s uncanny skill at magic?!?!”

I let out a deep sigh, ready to drop the idea when suddenly, Randy had to open his trap and comment, “Tiva is pretty good at crafting stuff without magic.” The headmaster was officially convinced that Tiva helping out was a good idea. “Tiva helps too. Meeting concluded for today.”

Finally relieved this meeting was over, I put Ania on my fold-out bed to let her sleep and went to locate She-Who-Can’t-Be-Found. For the most part, I was going to tell her that she gets to help with the haunted house, but there was another deeply personal reason to find. Going to Tiva Nasia for advice meant I finally had to swallow all the pride I have in me.

*Time skip brought to you by Klaus (almost) killing Luca for turning the main entrance into one big carbuncle slip ‘n’ slide*

It took me nearly seven hours to find Tiva, and it turned out that she was tailing me the whole time. Backing up a little.

When the clock told me that it had been nearly seven hours, I grew frustrated and cursed under by breath, “Where could she possibly be this whole time?!?! I’ve looked everywhere!” I turned around, and there she was, the mysterious Tiva Nasia, leaning against the wall. How Ania even managed to become best friends with her was beyond my knowledge. I fought against my pride as she said, “I was wondering how long it’d take you to realize that I was right behind you the whole time.”

“Seriously? How did I not see you behind me?”

Tiva placed her finger up against her mouth and replied, “A girl never reveals her secrets. So, what’s up?” Wait, how did she- you know what? I’m not even gonna finish that thought. This girl hangs with Ania. I really need to remember that questioning her is just like questioning my girlfriend, complicated.

Running my hand down my face, I peered at Tiva from the side. “Well,” I started, “you are officially on the committee to help prep the ball’s haunted house.”

“I heard.”

“Not even asking how you found out.” I began to shift my weight from one foot to the other uncomfortably while trying to find the words. Giving in, I swallowed my pride and asked, “I need your help on how to propose to Ania. I’m at a total loss and you’re the only person close enough to her that might have some ideas.”

“The owl finally wised up, did he? Sure, I got an idea or two...” Silently growling, I stared at her, waiting for her to share away, swearing to God she was purposely torturing me. “Oh, you’re waiting for me to share away. You could try proposing on Hallow’s Eve, say, in the woods or a haunted house or even at a secret graveyard that no one supposedly knows about.”

I smacked myself on the forehead. OF COURSE! Her favorite place to terrorize other people. While I’ll never figure out how Tiva even know about the secret graveyard, she clearly knows Ania. Tiva continued, “And in case you’re still trying to find the perfect ring, there may or may not be a secret magic ring shop in town that is supposedly behind the chapel. Good luck.”

I nodded my head as Tiva walked off never to be found again. Leaving the school grounds behind, I rode on the train for a brief 20 minutes before entering the town. Out to find this shop, I quickly found the chapel. Walking around the building, I noticed a faint shimmer deep within the fog.

The shop was rather easy to locate, but having to fight off some angry fire wolves wasn’t quite so fun. Wandering through the shop for what seemed like days, the shop appeared to be never-ending. Then, I came upon a simple, yet elegant, wedding ring. The band was golden, with silver diamonds surrounding ten amethyst stones shaped like feathers. It looked as if the stones itselves were wrapping itself around your finger.

Pulling the ring from its case, I walked up to the register in the old shop to inquire about the price of the ring. As the man took the ring in his hands, glancing from it to me, he asked, “Why would a young wizard like yourself be after such a fine ring? A royal demon ring, no less.”

I couldn’t stop the smile that formed on my lips as I answered, “It’s for my girlfriend. Her birthday is on Hallow’s Eve, so I thought, why not propose during the ball in her favorite graveyard? As for the demon aspect of that ring, if you must know, she’s half demon and is the granddaughter of the devil himself. I’m fairly positive you can figure out the other half. Amethyst is also one of her favorite stones.”

With a smile, the older man placed the ring in a garnet encrusted box before finally saying, “That will be 1,700 lune.” Sighing with relief, I payed the fee and left the shop with a smile on my face.

I knew I had made the right choice picking that ring. Now there was only two thing in the way of us being together for good: her grandfather’s approval, and her answer to the question I’ve waited to ask ever since we ran into each other years ago. One can only hope the answer I receive is yes.

Unfortunately, the fate of our engagement rests in the hands of the devil himself.

Part 2

I found myself fiddling with the engagement ring as the train silently ran back to the academy.

After scolding myself for taking it out of the box, I placed the enchanting ring inside the stone-encrusted box just as the train pulled into the station. Walking back to the academy was nerve wracking and uncomfortable. Venturing through the academy entrance as the pebbles crunched under my feet, my thoughts drifted to Ania and how she’d react to the question. Just as I was about to enter, I hear Joel’s obnoxious voice sweet-talking.

Peeking in the main entrance, I see Joel making a pathetic attempt to win Ania back, asking for forgiveness for only the devil knows what. Saying I wasn’t jealous was a complete lie, but I couldn’t afford to “accidentally” kill Joel for hitting on my girlfriend and risk losing Ania forever. Thus, I came to the conclusion I needed to once again swallow my pride and accept that Ania can deal with Joel herself.

Meanwhile, I had a bigger problem… Now I have to find my way into hell and convince Hades, the devil, to let me marry his granddaughter, the last reminder he has of his firstborn son. Maybe I should have gone to him first, then the ring… No time for regrets now. I continued to watch Joel’s makeup attempts, plotting how to kill him later when he messes up again, when suddenly, the last thing I expected to happen did.

Out of nowhere, She-Who-Disappears-All-The-Time showed up, walked right past Joel while Dinozzo-slapping him on the back of the head, and disappeared in the distance in front of about a few dozen students watching and laughing their head off (In case you don’t know what a Dinozzo-slap is, there may or may not be a show called NCIS). “See? Even Tiva hates you,” Ania snapped at Joel, now on the ground, as she walked away.

With a smile, I headed towards the abandoned temple deep into the forbidden forest, the ring secured in my drawer. There, the portal to the underworld remained open for only the use of myself and Ania. I entered the abandoned temple and descended down to some tunnels similar to a maze, walked straight to the end of the tunnel, and entered an empty room with an unsuspecting crack in the wall. Running a finger along the crack, I suddenly found myself in the same room with just skeletons.

As I left the newly-transformed temple, Hades’ castle stood with pride in the distance. The smell of black tea and cocoa beans wafted through my senses. A familiar howl invaded my ears as the silhouette of none other than Cerberus leapt closer along with a figure on his back. Soon, Cerberus came to a halt, nearly crushing me to death, and Hades got off of the three-headed hellhound to greet me by asking, “How’s Ania?”

Getting out of the way of the hound, I looked at him and replied, “She’s fine, as demonic as ever.” With a heavy sigh, I fell silent, unsure how to bring up the topic. Then, Hades threw me off by saying, “Time to pop the question, isn’t it?”

“How did you even-”

“You never come here by yourself. What else could it be?”

Rolling my eyes, I continued, “I know that not every person is as welcome in hell as yourself or Ania, but I didn’t want to intrude on you, seeing as you have to govern the underworld...”

“Dude. It’s cool.” I was left speechless. I can’t believe that of all beings agreeing to the engagement of Ania and myself, I already had HADES’ approval. Cerberus started trying to stick one of its heads under arm in attempt for some playtime. I turned around to stare at the hellhound, looking depressed and innocent. “Next time, I’ll bring Ania for playtime. Deal?” I told Cerberus.

After a brief and messy lick in response, I bid Hades and his guard dog goodbye and made my way back to the room with the portal. As the old temple consumed my vision, thoughts of doubt and worry plugged my mind. What if she says no? Or worse, leaves me for Joel? After touching the crack on the wall of the demon temple, I found myself in pitch darkness.

Is it dark outside already? After nearly smacking right into the door that was now closed, I cautiously made my way back upstairs and out the main door. A walk through the faintly lighted forest later, I was once again standing at the main entrance of the academy. Before I could open the door and sneak in, Ania tackled me from above saying, “Where have you been all day?!?!”

Her normally golden orange eyes were glowing with a blood-like red that sometimes shows when she is sleepy, mischievous, or otherwise pissed off. After getting up off of me, she continued to scold me, “What possible reason could you have for disappearing for a whole day while Joel have been whining and begging like an infant to take him back?!?!” I was trying so hard to hold back my laughter at her semi-childish complaints only to realize that she wasn’t in a playful mood.

She was genuinely worried and angry that I disappeared. What do I tell her? I can’t tell her that I have been getting her engagement ring and got Hades’ ‘blessing.’ Getting an idea, I told her, “Headmaster Randolph asked me to go visit the Ministry because my older brother needed help on a recent case. I’m sorry I didn’t give you any heads up.” Unable to say anything, Ania simply curled up on my lap and buried her head on my chest. Guess I really did scare her. Can’t say I blame her…

The door creaked slowly, and Tiva peeked her head out, whispering, “Guys, get in here now! The headmaster is doing his final check of the school grounds.” With a silent nod, I stood up with Ania secured in my arms and entered the academy.

*Time skip brought to you by Ania stealing all the blankets on Klaus’s bed*

As Ania slept curled up on my bed, I sat by the window, deep in thought. I knew that I wouldn’t be able to pull this off alone and that if it wasn’t for Tiva and Elias talking some sense into me, I would still be single and alone and not with one of the most amazing girls in this world, above and below. How to plan the proposal….

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a piece of paper slip from under the dorm door. After eyeing Ania and making sure that she wasn’t gonna wake up, I quietly used magic to bring the paper to me so that the creaks of the floor wouldn’t trip her slumber. The note read, “Bring whomever you see fit to help you. Meet at the entrance of the forbidden tower in the morning. Amelia and Morgan will take Ania out to town for archery while we plan the proposal. They know absolutely nothing about this. Destroy the note when you finish reading. - Tiva.” A sneaky smile grew on my face. I was glad that I decided to confide in Tiva about my plans.

That morning, Amelia and Morgan did indeed show up, excited for a girl’s day out. Pulling Ania to me by her waist, I nipped her neck and earlobe gently before kissing her passionately. “Stay out of trouble, Karma, and stay safe,” I whispered into her ear. With a gasp, her eyes widened when I called her by her given name only for her to wrap her arms around my neck and give me a silent nod of agreement. Letting her go, I watched as Amelia and Morgan fangirl over Ania having a boyfriend and unknowingly drug her towards the town with smiles on their lips.

Tiva’s POV

I waited for what felt like an eternity at the train tracks for Amelia and Morgan to show up with Ania. Sure enough, looking utterly flummoxed and slightly irritated, they marched up to the tracks with Ania in toe. “Sorry it took so long, Tiva. Ania is rather stubborn, and it took longer than expected to get her out of bed and ready to go,” Amelia said as she tightened her grip on Ania’s wrist.

The black aura radiating off of Ania was rather interesting to watch dance around her as she glared daggers into the back of Amelia’s head. “It’s fine. The train hasn’t quite gotten here yet. There will be plenty of time for fun.” I looked around and spotted a realistic fake-Professor Schuyler glaring at me. Morgan followed my eye-line and noticed him too. “Tiva, what haven’t you told us?” she asked.

“Darn it! He caught me outside my dorm room last night and now expects me to come to detention. I was hoping he would forget about me,” I smoothly lied to the girls. Ania told me to ditch when I could and join them in town later just as the train pulled into the station. After waving the girls off, I turned around and started walking towards the illusion that I had created for the lie. Once I was sure that the train was gone, I swiped the spell away and made my way through the so-called forbidden forest.

Soon enough, I reached the Tower of Sorrow, where the chimera lay guarding, and found that Klaus hadn’t shown up yet, or so I assumed. Three silhouettes merged from the forest in my direction. It appeared that Klaus brought Elias and Luca with him. The trio stepped out of the forest, revealing themselves. Well, this may be easier than I thought… I bid them welcome and started sharing ideas for the engagement.

Part 3

Tiva’s POV

“If anyone messes up in any way, I will personally take you to Hades myself, understand?” I warned Zach.

“Yeah yeah. Whatever.” The brown-haired teen walked away, disappearing into the shadow of a wall as Ania and Klaus came around the corner. I gave the thumbs up to show that everything was in place. I hope my temporary... ‘assistants’ don’t go too far out of control tonight. There was no doubt that someone would enjoy terrorizing the students, namely Zach. However, I’m positive Ania would give him a run for his money before the night is over. Zach and Ania will be competing for the most screams tonight….

Klaus kissed Ania gently before silently leaving the two of us in the halls of the haunted mansion. “Ready to go get our costumes on?” Ania asked. I gave her a look that said, Do you even have to ask? With a evil laugh, she teleported us to the dorm where our costumes laid out on the beds. As we started to change, Ania suddenly threw me off a little bit by asking, “Will Klaus ever propose, or will he eventually leave me for another girl? It’s not that I don’t trust him, but waiting so long makes you wonder.” She doesn’t suspect anything tonight. Good.

Taking a deep sigh, I said, “If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t make the mistake of leaving you for a mere mortal. And if it turns out that he isn’t who you thought he was, I’ll make sure that I beat your grandfather to the punch. Assuming that there is anything left of his soul.” Ania laughed.

Ania’s costume was a badass dark-angelic assassin, which would soon take on a demonic persona. I was trying to not imagine Klaus’s reaction when he saw her in her outfit. She summoned two wolf-like hellhounds to join me in my assassin costume before we made our way to the main dance area. Once we got there, there was many students wearing costumes either dancing or complaining about the no-alcohol rule this year. If only they knew what awaited them…

Suddenly, a dark-haired Klaus walked up to us with a semi-unhappy and semi-mischievous look on his face. He decided to darken his hair and wear a demon costume with wings, some unusual weapon held by one of his hand, an eye patch over the right eye, and a faint red eye contact to make his eyes appear a mix of demonic red and purple. It took Ania a good five seconds to realize he was her boyfriend.

*Time skip brought to you by Joel trying to get Tiva’s trust despite having failed a lifetime ago*

Ania’s POV

“Are you sure Klaus isn't possessed, Tiva?” Joel nagged Tiva, finally realizing that Klaus had been with us for an half-hour.

“Would you rather he was possessed by Death herself and trying to hunt you down while I stand here saying, 'I told you so?'” Tiva stared at Joel with an evil look in her eye and a mischievous slight grin. Joel took a gulp, turned around, and bolted for the door. Before he made it, the door magically slammed, locking all students of the academy in the dance room. Looks like everything is in working order. Here come a night of fun…

Tiva, Klaus, and I looked at each other, acknowledging the fact that the haunted house was about to begin. We made our way to the door, where Randy, Elias, and Luca waited excitedly while Joel looked perfectly miserable. Suddenly, an automated deep voice, similar to Klaus’s, echoed out throughout the room with an evil laugh. After a few seconds of screaming died down, the room was in dead silence as Tiva and I fought against our urge to laugh.

The automated voice spoke, “Welcome to the 107th annual Gendonlune Ball. Unfortunately for you poor... innocent students, this Hallow’s Eve is the night of your death. There is no escape from your inevitable fate tonight. At the stroke of midnight, you’ll suddenly find yourself in a haunted mansion with ghosts, booby traps, and worst of all, a demoness. You could stay in the room with your group and pathetically attempt to stay alive, or you could try to escape with your team. The odds that you will make it out alive is slim, but possible. (evil laugh) And did I mention that your magic is completely useless as of right now? May Death favor your end.” It laughed again, fading away into silence.

Students left and right glanced at each other, trying to figure out if the voice was genuine or a practical joke skillfully crafted.

Random Student’s POV

My friends and I were whispering to each other fearfully, debating whether Luca had successfully pulled off the ultimate prank on the whole school when all of the sudden, only darkness can be seen. A grandfather clock could be heard in the distance, signaling midnight. Light slowly fades in, and my group of friends plus some other students were still around me, but we were now in a smaller room that appears to be a locked Victorian bedroom. A high-pitched screech echoed from the door just before the door suddenly opened wide.

We glanced at each other, terrified of what could potentially happen. A figure clothed in black gripped a long slender item I couldn't make out. Twisted around the item were silver thorns weaved into a crown laying atop the head of a legless skeletal figure. The hooded figure turned around and walked away, and a minute later, a black-haired, purple-eyed girl in an assassin outfit stuck her head in the door. “The demoness is coming soon. Let’s go!”

We followed the mysterious girl down the corridor where the hooded being previously disappeared into. One guy had the guts to actually ask the girl if following the grim reaper was a good idea. She answered, “One, that was no grim reaper. Two, who ever said anything about following him?” Instead of turning right and following the figure, she led us down the left corridor into a humongous library. A crack of thunder and a flash of light startled us, but does not seem to bother the assassin girl. Darkness swallowed the room, and numerous howls echoed from every direction.

Where the assassin girl stood, a candle was lit, revealing the face of the famous Elias Goldstein, reading a book as usual. He wore a badass male witch librarian costume, and sheathed on the table in front of him was a sword, known for its playfully dangerous personality. It was none other than Excalibur. As Elias looked up from his book towards the temperamental sword, there was a warning chime of the grandfather clock. Suddenly, the ground shook, almost like an earthquake or an explosion from a distance.

Standing on the edge of the balcony was a long haired male with a glowing burned and aged six of spades card in his long artisan fingers. His green eyes glazed over my group and stared straight at Elias, preparing to throw his now burning card. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Joel over by the table, about to touch the infamous Excalibur. Elias noticed too late, but he was unable to do anything about it, now in a magical duel with the mysterious guy. The Excalibur floated up, unsheathing itself as Joel slowly backed up.

I yelled at my group to run just as the enchanted blade turned its point towards us. We were scrambling into the corridor and tried to go back to the room we originated at. Blocking our path was a brown-haired male with head trauma and an evil grin. He started bolting for us as we kept running down the corridor where a feminine figure stood at the very end. By the time one of us noticed that we were trapped, the ground collapsed from under our feet. We were in complete darkness with a slight odor of garlic and iron. Right above us was faint bickering between a male named Zach and a female who sounds familiar, but it was suddenly drowned out by a loud screech in the distance.

Klaus Goldstein, wearing a vampire hunter costume, walked up to us with a torch in one hand and a lethal crossbow in the other. He lit a torch that was on the wall behind us, then said, “Grab the torch. You’ll need it to defend yourself.”

“From what?” one of the girls asked at her own risk.

“Don’t you mean who? Randy has been transformed into a vampire by the demoness herself, and he’s now roaming around the dungeons. The headmaster has asked me to hunt him down to protect any students that may actually have a chance of surviving.” A metallic clang echoed from the direction Klaus approached from. “Get ready to run in case I fall.”

Adorkable Randy walked out of the darkness, batting his eyes in reaction to the torch. At first, he appeared to be perfectly normal, besides the lack of costume. Then, he grinned madly, revealing his bloody fangs. With a quick motion, Klaus shoved us past the blood sucker and fired his silver crossbow at Randy, saying, “In the name of God, impure souls of the living dead shall be banished into eternal damnation!”

Before we could do anything, Randy leapt up, narrowly missed by the arrows, and pounced upon Klaus, nailing him down. We hurried away into the darkness with a single torch, not knowing where to go. Turning the corner, we nearly ran into Excalibur, still persistently hunting for us. “Go go go!”

We bolted up some random stairs and through a series of corridors, not paying attention to our surroundings except for the fact that there was a magical emo sword chasing us. Pretty soon, we found ourselves cornered at a dead end, about to meet our Creator. Out of nowhere, the assassin female from earlier dropped down from the ceiling, facing the infamous emotional-teen weapon with hands on her hips. It was almost like Excalibur was terrified of her. It turned itself right around and went flying off to its owner, whoever that may be.

She turned to face our group and said, “You guys want to get out of here? We have to confront the demoness, the ruler of this tormented mansion. It’s the only way we’ll ever get out.”

“What?!?! Isn’t she just going to kill us anyways?!?!” Joel stupidly protested.

“You’re right. She will kill us, whether it’s in these corridors and rooms or as we walk right out the main door that is cursed. If we can keep her busy long enough, then there is a chance that we’ll be able to walk out alive. Who’s coming with?” Everyone stood in silence, unsure of whether to listen to her or try to make it out by themselves. The black-haired female started walking away, and we followed behind.

Eventually, we stopped walking right outside the throne room, with the doors casted wide open. Standing in the center of the room was a girl with blonde hair with red tips wearing thick assassin armor. What the heck? That’s no demoness. That’s a student.

Ania’s POV

Tiva led a group of confused and terrified students, including Joel, into the throne room. The fright of their life was about to begin.

“Karma, I demand you to reveal yourself!” Tiva yelled. With a sinister voice, I answered with a little magic to make it sound as though I was elsewhere, “Which mere mortal dare to command Karma, demoness and granddaughter of Hades himself, to appear before mere humans?” Tiva stepped forward while the terrified students tried to run out the door. With a wave of the hand, the doors slammed in their faces. They watched in horror as I morphed into my demon form before their eye.

My white, red-tipped wings extended from my shoulder blades and out to its full span as my skin shimmered into a pale silver-white tone. My assassin armor shifted into my demon armor, as elegant and invincible as ever, and my long-missed scythe, thorns wrapped around a metal skull, rose into my hands from the ground. My hair faded into pure white while retaining its vibrant, blood-like red tips, and my fangs grew just slightly longer and sharper while remaining human-like. My demonic aura yearned to take control and consume all creatures in the throne room while my humanity fought against it.

In the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but think, I always forget how hard it is to hold down my power when in the human world. It’s never been this strong before, but again, it is Hallow’s Eve, the second most dreaded night for superstitious people of the year, not to mention the fact that I literally have not been in my demon form since before I started coming to this academy.

Before I knew it, I found my demonic side saying, “Well, looks like you get your wish. Not for long, though.” My demon form let out a demonic, evil laugh as Tiva only raised an eyebrow. Well, Tiva definitely knows something is up. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Joel trying to sneak past me. Unfortunately, so did my dark side. With no control over myself whatsoever, I glided over to Joel in a blink of an eye, nailing him to the wall by the throat. My eyes darkened as I stared into his soul, withering in fear.

Next thing I knew, I was raising my scythe, preparing to finish him off. WHAT THE HELL AM I DOING?!?! I CAN'T TAKE HIS SOUL! Another part of me started to whisper enchantingly, Come on, Ania, you know he deserves to die. Especially after what he have done to you, or even better, your bestie. Nearly giving in, I prepared myself to swing the scythe, when all of the sudden… “KARMA NOX!” I morphed back into my normal form unarmed, collapsing onto the ground as I heard Tiva tell the mortified students to make a run for it now while the demoness was powerless.

Almost immediately, footsteps faded away into the silent distance. Glancing up, I watched Tiva jog towards me with a concerned look in her eyes. “Are you okay, Ania?”

“No. I nearly- no, I lost complete control over myself when my demon form appeared. I was on the verge of just letting myself do the deed. I let Klaus down. I told him that I’d never lose control of my dark side, and tonight, I failed.”

Tiva looked me straight in the eye and flat out said, “You may have lost control of your demon side, but you most certainly did not fail Klaus. You entrusted me with the safe word to ensure that tonight would not end tragically. By doing so, you have gained the ultimate control over yourself.” I was completely confused on what she meant. The truth is, the fact that I felt like I failed Klaus was the least of my worries…

I still had to face my greatest fear involving my demonic side: my grandfather.

#wizardessheart #elias goldstein #klaus goldstein #shall we date #randy march #luca orlem #professor schulyer #headmaster randolph

1 note · View note

klaineanummel · 5 years

Text

eighteen going on extinct 19/20

Kurt Fabray just wants to relax after a tough week at school, but that is shown to be impossible when he realizes that his absent father has once again blown into town. Not wanting to spend more time around him than necessary, Kurt goes to his old babysitters house, the one place he feels safe when his father is in town. While there, he stumbles upon a secret he knows he was never meant to find out - one that could change the entire course of his life.

An AU very loosely based on Mamma Mia.

I’m sorry this is coming so much later than I promise. I seriously underestimated how much work I’d have to do this weekend. Sorry!! But anyway, here it is, the penultimate chapter (technically the last chapter, as the last chapter is really an epilogue)!!

A major thanks goes to @mailroomorder for this chapter. It used to be majorly different, and she made some amazing suggestions and basically encouraged me to make it way, way, way better. So thank you babe, I love you <3 <3 <3

I have some very emotional things to say when I post the last chapter, but until then, I hope you enjoy <3

Previous Chapter | Read on AO3

Kurt and his mom stay up talking almost all night, his mom fussing over him icing his eye way too much, secretly making Kurt the happiest boy on earth. It’s 5AM before they realize it, and Quinn calls the bakery to inform the overnight manager that she won’t be in at 6AM, or for the next few days. Then, she and Kurt fall asleep cuddled together on the couch. Kurt’s eye won’t stop throbbing, but he is so goddamn happy at where he is that he can almost ignore it.

They wake up around noon, ice Kurt’s eye some more, and then order a pizza for lunch, even if it really isn’t in the budget.

As they eat, his mom asks him why he came back last night. She looks apprehensive, and then follows it up with the clarifying question, “I mean, you couldn’t have known what was going to happen between Puck and me.”

Kurt admits that no, he didn’t have the slightest clue that that would happen, but that he had been willing to put up with Puck’s presence to tell her that he knew the truth. He knew why she lied, to him and to herself, about Puck being his father, and why she kept Burt a secret from him for so long. He tells her about how Burt told him about his sick wife, and how they got engaged shortly after he and Quinn ended things.

Quinn shifts uncomfortably in her chair, and says, “I already felt so bad. Not only had I lied to someone to get him to sleep with me, but in doing so I’d also slept with the man a sick woman was in love with? I felt like the worst human being in the world,” she bit into a slice and chewed it thoughtfully. After swallowing, she continued, “I couldn’t ruin what could have been the last few months of her life by telling her that hey, her soon-to-be husband may have fathered a child with a senior in high school.”

Kurt looks down at his slice and quietly says, “They were. The last months of her life, I mean.” Quinn looks up, eyes wide and wet. “She died within a year of them marrying.”

“Oh, my god,” she says, hand coming up to her mouth. “I had no idea. I – He was wearing a ring when we went to the garage.”

“I get the feeling that he still isn’t really over it,” Kurt says. “Though, I’m hoping that adopting Blaine will help him with that.”

His mother’s eyebrows shoot up. “Um, excuse me, what?”

“Right, I forgot that I didn’t tell you about that. Yeah, so, as if things couldn’t get more complicated, my boyfriend is being adopted by my biological father.”

“Okay, hold on,” she puts her hands up. “First of all – boyfriend? When did that happen?”

Kurt smiles. “Yesterday,” he says. “He just walked up to me in the morning and kissed me. We haven’t really gone on a date yet, but I’m assuming he wants to be boyfriends since he refused to date me when he didn’t know how permanent his stay in Lima would be.”

“I see,” Quinn says. “But the reason he is dating you now is because Burt is adopting him?”

“And he likes me,” Kurt says, frowning a little.

“Obviously,” she replies. She chews on her bottom lip, then asks, “Did you tell them?”

Kurt shakes his head. “I don’t really know that I should. I mean, what if it messes things up for Blaine? What if Burt decides he wants to get to know me as a son before adopting Blaine?” He sighs. “Besides, Finn is my dad. Or, the closest thing to a dad I’ll ever have, at least. I don’t really need Burt for that, so why bother stirring the pot?”

Quinn raises one eyebrow at him, then says, “Look, Kurt, as someone who has used the keeping of the truth as a work-around to lying to people, let me just tell you that this shit always comes out. Right now, you have the opportunity to control how that happens. We both know that that isn’t always the case.”

Kurt nods, then takes a bite of his pizza, chewing it thoughtfully. He swallows, then smiles at her. “I missed you, mom.”

“Aw,” she reaches across the table to grab his hand. “I missed you, too, honey.”

Kurt and his mom have just settled in to watch a movie when his phone rings. He plans to ignore it but changes his mind when he catches sight of who is calling him.

He quietly asks his mom to pause the movie before heading to his bedroom and answering with a soft, “Hey.”

“Are you okay?” Blaine asks. “You weren’t at school today.”

Kurt glances at the old alarm clock on his nightstand and realizes that, oh, school had already ended for the day. “I know, sorry. I skipped.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine asks. “Did something happen? Is it because I was so annoyed at you last night about what happened with Burt?”

“No, nothing like that,” Kurt says. “I mean, something did happen, but it was nothing to do with you.”

“You sure? Because, like, I’m still a little annoyed, but I’m not mad at you or anything. I’m sure you have a valid explanation for how the evening went down.”

“I do,” Kurt says. “It’s a bit of a long story, though.”

“What’s your address?” Blaine blurts.

Kurt frowns. “What?”

“Your address. I know you’re a few bus stops down from me, but I don’t know exactly where you live. If it’s a long story, I want to be there in person for it.”

Kurt chews on his lip for a moment, then tells Blaine his address. Blaine thanks him, promises to see him soon, and hangs up.

He heads back out into the living room and finds his mother smirking at him from the couch. “Blaine coming over?”

Kurt blushes a little. “Maybe,” he says, sitting down next to her.

“Any particular reason for it?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Kurt shrugs and leans in close to her. “I’ve decided to control how the truth comes out.”

They decide against the movie, instead sitting together on the couch until Blaine arrives. He rings the apartment building’s buzzer four times in a row, which makes Kurt chuckle despite the conversation he knows is coming. He lets Blaine in and opens his apartment door, waiting for Blaine to arrive.

The minute Blaine sees him peeking out of the door, he hurries down the hall and grabs his face in his hands. “God, Kurt,” he says, tilting Kurt’s face downward to get a better look at his bruise. “What happened?!”

Kurt rolls his eyes. “Just the man who believed he was my father for eighteen years finally letting his rage get the best of him.” Blaine opens his mouth to reply, but Kurt cuts him off. “It’s a long story. Come in?”

Blaine nods and takes Kurt’s hand as they enter Kurt’s apartment. Quinn is standing up in the living room, smiling softly in greeting. “You must be Blaine,” she says. “I’m Kurt’s mother.”

Blaine eyes her wearily, clearly thinking of Kurt’s recent rants on her behaviour. “Yes, I’m Blaine,” he says, though he doesn’t extend a hand in greeting. Quinn presses her lips together, her smile falling.

“I’ll let you two talk, okay?” she says, walking to her bedroom, arms wrapping around her middle as she goes. “Let me know if you need anything, though.”

“Of course, mom,” Kurt says, leading Blaine to his own bedroom. Blaine stares back at her for a moment, clearly confused, then lets himself be pulled where Kurt leads him.

They sit on Kurt’s bed, Blaine’s brow still furrowed in confusion. “I don’t get it,” he says. “Did you fix things with your mom?”

“Kind of,” Kurt says, then launches into his story of the previous day. Blaine listens attentively, gasping at all the right parts, and grabbing Kurt’s hand tighter when Kurt gets to the part where Puck punched him. By the time he’s done, Blaine is shaking his head, eyes wide and sympathetic.

“God,” he breathes out. “I’m so sorry that happened, Kurt.”

“I’m not,” Kurt admits. “If it hadn’t, Puck might still be lurking around, ruining my mother’s life.”

Blaine bites down on his lip, then carefully asks, “And you’re absolutely sure that he’s gone for good this time?”

“I am,” Kurt says. “Mom promised that if he tried to show his face again she’d call the police. He’d be an idiot to try and come back, especially after fucking up my face like this.”

Blaine looks down at their linked hands, then says, “I have one more question.”

Kurt takes a deep breath, then says, “I thought you might.”

Blaine meets his eye. “You implied earlier that Puck knows he isn’t your father. Does that mean you got your paternity test back?”

Kurt nods. “I did.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Blaine’s eyes are wide and hurt, lips slightly parted, and it hurts.

Though not as much as what he’s going to tell Blaine next.

“Because it turns out that Finn isn’t my father either.”

“What?” Blaine asks, head tilting slightly. “But, how—”

“Burt,” Kurt blurts, before he can lose his confidence. “It’s Burt.” He looks down at their hands and whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

Blaine is silent for what feels like forever, hands clenching Kurt’s tightly, though Kurt isn’t sure if it’s in anger or grief.

“So,” he eventually begins. “What you’re saying is that the man who wants to adopt me is… your father?”

“Yeah,” Kurt murmurs. “I’m sorry, Blaine. I swear, I didn’t want it to be this way. I wanted it to be Finn, you know I did, but—”

“How is that even possible? I know you said they went out, but… Burt said it was only for a few weeks!”

“Apparently that’s all it took,” Kurt shrugs. “My mom didn’t tell anyone because of his wife and her illness. She didn’t know she’d passed, so she kept the secret all these years. She convinced everyone, and herself, that my dad was Puck because it just made it easier.”

“Wow,” Blaine whispers, hands still clutching Kurt’s tightly. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Kurt clutches back, quickly saying, “We don’t have to tell Burt.”

Blaine guffaws, eyes widening, looking at Kurt like he’s insane. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course we have to tell Burt!”

“I don’t need him to be my dad, Blaine. I don’t want him to be my dad. He’s your dad, not mine, and I don’t want to fuck that up.”

“Kurt,” Blaine says, shaking his head. “Do you really think I could live my life knowing my father has an actual son out there? A son that I am freaking dating?! What if knowing about you makes him change his mind about adopting me?” He continues shaking his head. “I couldn’t live with myself if I kept this from him. He has to know; for his sake, and for mine.”

“But what if—”

“That’s why we have to tell him, Kurt,” he says. “Because if we don’t, that ‘what if’ will haunt me for the rest of my life. I’m so,” he closes his eyes. “I’m so close to having a family. For the first time in my life, I feel complete. Keeping this from Burt would ruin that. I’m sorry, Kurt, but we have to tell him.”

Kurt swallows thickly, but nods. “Okay,” he says. “If you think that’s what’s best, then okay. We’ll tell him.”

“Good,” Blaine says. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Of course,” Kurt says. Blaine opens his eyes, then leans forward and kisses Kurt gently on the lips, mindful of his injuries.

When they part, he says, “Okay, let’s go.”

He stands up, letting go of Kurt’s hand, and Kurt reels back. “What, now?”

“No time like the present, right?”

Kurt licks his lips, then sighs and stands up. “Let me ask my mom, first,” he says. “I think I need her there, too.”

Blaine nods. “I get that,” he says. “I’ll wait in the living room.”

Kurt nods as well, then heads out into the living room, Blaine on his heels, and then knocks on his mom’s door.

“Yes?” she calls. He cracks the door open and sees her lying on her bed, phone in hand.

“Hey, Blaine and I are going to go tell Burt that he’s my father. Can you come with us?”

She stares at him for a moment, clearly taken aback, then slowly smiles and nods.

“Of course, baby,” she says, sitting up and slipping her phone into her pocket. “Of course.”

The drive to Burt and Blaine’s house is short, but tense. Kurt can’t stop bobbing his leg up and down, and Blaine is chewing on his nails. Kurt’s never seen him do that before.

He hates how much is riding on this. He hates that a stupid mistake his mom and Burt made eighteen years ago could potentially cause Blaine a world of heartache. Kurt doesn’t know that he’d ever forgive himself if this ruins Blaine’s chance of having a family.

Still, he reminds himself that Blaine is the one who wants this. He’s not just doing this to potentially fuck with Blaine’s future; Blaine clearly feels strongly about it.

He’s doing this for Blaine.

They park at the side of the road and head in together, Kurt’s heart pounding in his chest.

“Won’t he be at the garage still?” Kurt asks, glancing at Blaine’s front door anxiously.

Blaine shakes his head. “It’s his day off.”

“Right,” Kurt mumbles. His mother slips her hand into his and gives it a tight squeeze. He smiles up at her in thanks, though still feels anxiety running through his veins.

Blaine unlocks the door and pushes it open, calling out, “Burt?”

“Hey, bud,” Burt’s voice rings out. “You’re back from Kurt’s soon.”

He appears in the living room, eyes widening when he sees Kurt and Quinn standing with Blaine.

“Holy shit, Kurt!” He hurries over, hands falling gently to Kurt’s shoulders as he takes him in. “What…?” He glances between the three of them. “What the hell happened to you?”

“It’s a long story,” Kurt mumbles. Burt tucks two fingers under his chin and tilts his head up, looking over his face.

“It’s actually part of why we’re here,” Blaine says. “Kurt and Quinn have something they need to tell you.”

“Okay, well, hold on a moment. I think I still have some Arnica in my bathroom cupboard.” He walks away quickly, disappearing down the hallway. Kurt glances up at his mom, who smiles encouragingly. Blaine steps closer and intertwines their fingers.

Burt reappears less than a minute later, holding a small tube of the lotion. “Here,” he hands it to Kurt. “Take it with you. Two times a day, at least. If anything, it should help relieve some of the pain.”

“Thanks,” Kurt smiles. He glances behind Burt to the living room, then asks, “Can we sit?”

“Of course,” Burt steps aside, allowing them to enter the house. He settles himself on the recliner, while Kurt, Blaine, and Quinn settle on the couch, Kurt sandwiched between the two. Once they’re all sitting, Burt asks, “Is this because of what I told you yesterday, Kurt? Quinn,” Burt looks to her. “I’m so sorry if you felt I crossed a line. After Kurt left I realized that maybe you hadn’t told him about our past for a reason. It wasn’t my place.”

Quinn shakes her head. “You’ve done nothing wrong, Burt. I… I’m the one who should be apologizing. For quite a few things.” She ducks her head, and Kurt can see that there are tears forming in her eyes.

“This isn’t really about that,” Kurt says, squeezing her hand tightly. “Well, it kind of is, but not… God, this is so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Blaine’s hand comes down to his thigh, squeezing it just as tightly as Kurt is squeezing his mother’s hand. Their eyes meet, and Blaine mouths, “You can do this.”

Kurt takes a deep breath, then looks up at Burt and says, “You’re my father.”

You could hear a pin drop. Burt’s eyes are saucers, flicking from Kurt, to Blaine, back to Kurt, to Quinn. His shoulders shake as he takes in a deep breath, and his lips part slightly, then close again. Kurt can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows, eyes still flying over the three people sitting across from him on the couch.

“Your father?” He finally asks, voice shaky. When Kurt nods, he continues with, “What… How? I don’t…”

“I’m sorry, Burt,” Quinn says, voice wobbly and full of tears. “I’m so, so sorry. I never expect this would happen, and I never wanted to involve you because of Elizabeth, but…” She looks up at him, tears streaming down her face. “But yes, Kurt is your son.”

Burt licks his lips, then brings a hand up to rub over his head, taking his baseball cap off before doing so. “All these years…” he mumbles. He stares off into the distance for a few moments, and Kurt can feel Blaine shifting next to him.

“This doesn’t have to change anything,” Kurt quickly says. “Really, I mean, Finn has already agreed to be my father, and he kind of already has been for my whole life, and I have Rachel, too, and my mom. And I know you’re about to adopt Blaine, so I don’t want to get in the way of that, I don’t, so I just—”

Burt puts his hand up, and Kurt stops his rambling, pressing his lips together tightly. He meets Kurt’s gaze, holding it for a moment, then says, “Blaine, Quinn, do you mind if I speak to Kurt privately for a moment?”

Quinn nods, standing up slowly. Blaine, if possible, is even slower in leaving, holding onto Kurt’s thigh tightly until the very last moment. When he does finally stand up, Quinn immediately goes to him and wraps an arm around his shoulders, beginning to guide him out of the living room. Blaine’s shoulders tighten at the contact, but he doesn’t shrug her off. Instead, he quietly says, “We can wait down in my room,” and starts to walk with more purpose.

Burt and Kurt remain silent as they leave. When the door to Blaine’s room shuts, Kurt expects Burt to break the silence, but instead it remains. Burt is just watching him, eyes slightly narrowed, brow furrowed, as though Kurt is a puzzle he can’t quite figure out.

Finally, after far too long a silence, Burt asks, “Who did that to your face?”

Kurt’s eyes widen. “What?”

Burt gestures to the bruising on Kurt’s eye. “Who did that to you?”

Kurt licks his lips, then quietly says, “Puck.”

“Puck?” Burt’s hands clench into fists on his lap. “The guy whose bike you were forced to pay for? Your mom’s boyfriend?”

“Ex-boyfriend,” Kurt says, and despite the tension in the room, he still feels relief at the word. “Everything sort of fell apart yesterday.”

Burt nods, slowly. Then he asks, “And what does that have to do with my being your father?”

Kurt sighs. “Well, I mean. My mom always said that he was my dad, but we’ve never gotten along. He’s tried, or at least Mom claims he’s tried, but he always seemed to give up after I’d give him a tiny bit of resistance. Then he found out I wasn’t his son, and, well… I guess there was nothing stopping him from beating the shit out of me.”

Burt exhales deeply, eyes shutting as he does. “Okay, I just want to make sure I have the full picture, so bear with me. You’re telling me that the man you’ve spent almost eighteen years thinking was your father found out he wasn’t and punched you in the face. And now you’re here to tell me that I am, but that you don’t want anything to change.”

Kurt bites his bottom lip, then nods. “Uh, yes. That’s right.”

“Because of this other guy, Finn, who has been acting like your dad?”

“He’s been more like a big brother, but after the test results came in saying he wasn’t my dad, he said he wanted to be him anyway. My dad, that is.”

Burt nods, then rubs his hands over his knees. “Is he a good man?”

“Finn?” Kurt clarifies.

“Yeah. Is he… the type to do stuff like this?” He gestures to Kurt’s face again.

“No, never!” Kurt says instantly. “He’s the one I always went to when shit got out of hand with Puck. He and his wife, they’re good people. They’ve always been there for me.”

Burt nods again, then takes another deep breath. “So, because you have them, you don’t want me to act like a dad to you?”

“I…” Kurt shrugs, looking down at his lap. “It’s not anything to do with you,” he says quietly, not wanting to offend the man. “I’ve just known Finn and Rachel my whole life, and I’ve only just met you.” He swallows thickly, then, a little louder, says, “Plus, there’s Blaine.”

Burt frowns. “What about Blaine?”

“I don’t want this to change your plans with Blaine. Like, suddenly you have a biological son, so now you have no need to adopt him.” He looks up, meeting Burt’s eye cautiously. “Blaine needs this. He needs you. After the life he’s had, he deserves a father who will love him. I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

By the time he’s finished talking, Burt’s frown has been replaced with a gentle smile. He chuckles, shaking his head a bit, then says, “You know, I should really be offended that you think so little of me, but it’s hard to be when your heart is in the right place.”

“Sorry?” Kurt asks.

“This could never change my desire to adopt Blaine,” Burt says, leaning forward slightly. “That kid… he couldn’t be more mine if I’d birthed him myself. We get each other, him and me.”

“So you’re… you’re still going to adopt him?”

“Course,” Burt says, straightening up. “Not adopting him isn’t an option. That’s my kid we’re talking about here.” His smile widens a bit. “Just turns out that now you’re my kid, too.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother. Like I said—”

“Kurt,” Burt stops him, holding his hand up again. “You’re dating my boy, so we’re going to see each other a lot anyway. Blaine obviously really likes you, and I do, too. If things go well, you’ll be part of the family eventually anyway. Way I see it, this just speeds it up a bit.”

Kurt nods, feeling tears forming in his eyes. He licks his lips, then says, “But, you…” He clears his throat. “The other day, at the garage, when I was looking at you and thinking ‘that’s my father’, I didn’t feel anything. When I look at Finn and think the same thing, I do.”

Burt laughs. “Kurt, you’re really trying to offend me here, aren’t you?” A couple more laughs leave his lips, and then he says, “A parental connection isn’t innate based on biology. Yeah, I’m your bio dad, but we barely know each other. So far, all you really know me as is Blaine’s dad, and that guy who dated your mother all those years ago. Why would that change just because you know some of my DNA is swimming around your body?”

Kurt’s face scrunches up. “Gross.”

“Yeah, don’t know why I said that,” Burt shakes his head. “Kurt, I’m not trying to tell you that this Finn guy can’t be your dad. I’m trying to say that maybe, after spending eighteen years thinking a guy who punched you at the first chance he could was your father, it may not be the worst thing to have more than one man who cares about you in your life.”

The tears in Kurt’s eyes finally break, trailing down his cheek gently. He sniffs and wipes them away, then smiles, stands up, and walks over to Burt to wrap him up in the biggest hug he can manage.

Burt chuckles as he does, pulling him in close. Kurt continues to sniff, embarrassed by how quickly he’s fallen apart because of this. Burt just holds him closer, though, rubbing his hand up and down Kurt’s back reassuringly.

“So, that sounds good to you, then?” Burt asks. “You okay with having two dads?”

Kurt wipes under his eyes as he pulls away from the man. “Seems only right, since Rachel is already kind of like a second mom.”

Burt grins. “I can’t wait to meet these Finn and Rachel people. They seem like really upstanding folk.”

“You’re going to love them,” Kurt promises. He sniffs a little more, then sits back down on the couch. “So, what’s, uh. What’s next?” When Burt just stares at him, confused, Kurt asks, “I mean, what do we do now? Get-to-know-you coffee dates?”

Burt snorts. “I think I’ll leave any date-type activities to you and Blaine, huh?” Kurt smiles and nods at that. “Why don’t we just take it slow. Get to know each other naturally. I don’t want to force it.”

Kurt nods again. “Yeah, that… that sounds like a plan.” They smile at each other for a few seconds, and then Kurt says, “We should probably call Blaine and my mom back in here. Blaine’s probably losing his mind.”

Burt sighs a little at that. “Was he really worried that I’d drop him as soon as I found out about you?” He seems far more hurt by that than any of the things that Kurt has said to him so far.

Kurt shrugs. “He’s been hurt a lot. I don’t think his worry is necessarily a reflection on you.”

Burt nods, then stands up and heads to Blaine’s room, knocking on the door lightly. “You two can come back out now.”

Blaine and Kurt’s mom appear in the doorway almost immediately, and Blaine launches himself at Burt, hugging him close. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I know it was private, and I swear I didn’t listen to it all, but I had just come up to see if you guys were winding down, and—”

“It’s okay, bud,” Burt hugs him back. “I ain’t mad.” He steps a bit away from the door, letting Quinn walk out into the hallway. Kurt stands up, heading over to join them. Burt pulls away from Blaine slightly, though he keeps his hands on his shoulders. He leans down so that he and Blaine are face to face. “Blaine,” he says, voice lower. “You’re my son, okay? No matter what. Not just from when I sign the adoption papers, but ever since you stepped foot in this house. I don’t care if I find out I’ve got a dozen illegitimate sons, you’re still my boy. Forever.”

Blaine springs forward and hugs him again, and Burt hugs him just as intensely, going so far as to lift him off the ground. Kurt reaches his mom, who is smiling as she watches Burt and Blaine hug. He wraps his arm around her side, and she turns to him and says, “That’s quite a boyfriend you’ve found.” She nods towards Blaine, who is laughing at something Burt just whispered to him. “I can tell he likes you a lot.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s great.” Kurt looks down at her, then, and says, “I swear he’ll warm up to you. I’ve… maybe not been that kind in what I’ve been telling him about you lately.”

She shakes her head. “I deserved it. And I understand.” She wraps her own arm around Kurt, and runs her hand up and down his arms. “I’m going to win him over, just like I’m going to win you back.”

Kurt shakes his head. “You don’t have to win me back, Mom. Never.”

She squeezes him tighter. They both look back to Burt and Blaine, who are still talking quietly, just as close as before. “I’m assuming things went okay up here, then?” She asks, looking up at him with a smile.

Kurt nods, then leans down and presses a kiss to her temple. He leans his face against hers after, warmth filling him as he feels her sigh in relief at the action. With a soft smile, he whispers, “Things went perfect.”

Epilogue

#klaineanummel fic #klaine fic #klaine au #klaine #fic: egoe #multi chapter

26 notes · View notes

jamie-leah · 6 years

Text

Dancing Shadows- Part 3

Bucky x Reader

Summary: You’re a fire elemental that has been in love with Bucky for a long time. He doesn’t know and you can’t tell him because of his girlfriend. And with an enemy threatening you and everything you love, will you and Bucky find each other before its too late?

Word Count: 2325

Warnings: Violence, a breakdown, swearing

A/N: Here’s another part! Please remember to give some feedback, I write for you and it really motivates me! Thank you for reading and enjoy Lovelies! Permanent tags are OPEN and series tags are OPEN

Dancing Shadows Masterlist Series Masterlist One Shot Masterlist

You knew Steve would fill everyone in on the information you just shared so you decided to go for a walk. Even though your body hurt your mind was wandering too much cooped up in your room. You put shoes on and enter the elevator where F.R.I.D.A.Y. asks which floor. For a few seconds you long to be in Bucky’s presence, to talk through all the thoughts in your head but you knew it was a bad idea. Still you found yourself asking, “where’s Bucky? What is he doing?”.

F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies, “he is in his room, would you like me to get him for you?”

“Is he with Jessica?”.

“Yes”.

You sigh, “don’t bother him. Just take me to the exit F.R.I.D.A.Y. I’m going for a walk”. The elevator makes its way down while you try and figure out where you’re going to walk to.

When you exit the tower, your feet do the thinking for you as you get lost in different thoughts. Bucky was lingering above all else, not having the heart think about your parents. Steve always thought you should tell him. He always said Bucky has feelings for you, but its hard to see when Jess is around which is most of the time. You wouldn’t want to complicate his life anymore than it is, but if you were going to tell him there just never seemed to be the right time between missions and Jess being there.

Before you knew it, you were in the heart of the city. The skies darken as the clouds let the first drops of rain loose. Despite your powers you loved the rain and it matched your mood perfectly. You felt a vibration in your pocket, so you fished it out with your hand. When you looked you saw you had a few missed calls from Steve and one from Bucky. Looking at the time you realise you had been walking for a few hours. Your phone vibrates again, a picture of Bucky lighting up the screen. You don’t answer for a few seconds, admiring one of the only photos you have of him. He isn’t fond of pictures but the one on the screen was of Bucky laughing, eyes closed with crinkles on the side. His hair framing his face like a make-up artist had just done it.

You answer it, “hey, what’s wrong?”.

You hear Bucky sigh in relief, “nothing now. F.R.I.D.A.Y. had said you had gone for a walk but that was hours ago, and Steve and I was worried you had over done it”.

You smile at their concern, “well I’m alive, so no need to worry. Did you and Jess make up?”. You carry on walking through the streets, the rain coming down harder.

“Yes, we did eventually. I’m sorry for bailing, Steve said he had to go and help you-“.

“You have nothing to be sorry for Buck. I told you to go, and you’ve sorted it all out with Jessica”. The name tasted bad in your mouth.

Bucky makes a noise of agreement, “I just think it’s harder than its supposed to be sometimes. Its not as easy as when I’m with-“. He never gets to finish that sentence when a scream pierces through the street, swiftly followed by more and people running. Bucky instantly goes on high alert, “what was that? What’s going on?”.

You look around confused not seeing the danger everyone is running from. You step in front of someone and catch them as they bump into you, “what’s going on?”.

The woman looks frantic to get away, “I don’t know, it happened a few blocks away”. You don’t waste time as you take off in the opposite way to everyone else. You hear Bucky talk again, “where are you Y/N? I’m on my way”.

You manage to talk around the breaths you’re heaving in, “remember where we went for that coffee and you spilt some on me, so I tipped mine on you? It’s a few blocks north of that. Get Tony to track my phone”.

You hear him talking to someone else, you think its Tony and Steve and Sam, but their voices fall away when you reach the scene. You come across a few rows of apartment blocks, some on fire, some ripped in half and bodies everywhere. You spot three people in the middle of it all, elementals by the looks of it. They’re killing people left and right. To stop the fire elemental from killing another you drop your phone, sending a ball of fire that knocks him back into the apartment blocks.

The other two notice you, leaving the people they were about to pray on. You roll your shoulders back, trying to look more confident and ready than you felt. The water elemental spoke, “He requires your allegiance to his cause”.

You try to stall them, so the others can get here, “why didn’t he ask me himself?”. The two steps forward, the water elemental a woman, the air a man. The man speaks next, “he had other commitments”.

You can feel your insides shake at taking on all three elementals by yourself, “and if I say no?”.

They both smile, the woman speaking again, “I’m sure you’re old enough to have heard the stories”. You roll your eyes at their cryptic bullshit, “okay, you may think you’re coming across all cool and evil but you seriously sound dumb”.

They look at each other and you feel your heart rate pick up. They look back at you throwing their power at you. You dodge the water not wanting it to hinder your fire, but you get hit with a burst of air. You get knocked back impossibly far, across the street and into the windows of an abandoned coffee shop. You crash into some tables and chairs and land on the floor.

Your spine feels like its on fire and you groan as you try to get up. When you turn around you’re met with the three of them standing there watching you. Your stomach flips, and you had the faint feeling that you may die today.

The fire elemental you knocked over stepped forward, “He has allowed you time to think, to join willingly, but he will come whether you’re ready or not”. He strikes suddenly, his own fire hitting you. You crash into more tables as you slide across the room and into the back wall. You can’t help but cry out at the pain.

It takes you a few moments to recover, but when you do the three are gone. You know you have to get up to help people, to put the fire out in the apartment buildings, but everything hurts too much. A few seconds later you hear Bucky calling out your name, along with Sam and Steve.

You shout out, “in here!”. Bucky reaches you first, worry all over his face so you try to lighten the mood, “just thought I’d grab a cup of coffee, being a superhero is thirsty work”. He gives you a glare, telling you he doesn’t think it was funny. Steve comes running in, “Y/N, I know you’re hurt, but do you think you can put out the fires, it’s starting to spread to other buildings. You nod your head but cry out when Bucky allows you to stand on your own.

He reaches out to you and turns to Steve, “no, we’ll have to think of something else, she’s too hurt”. Bucky proceeds to pick you up bridal style and starts to leave the coffee shop. You pat him on the shoulder, “I know you’re worried Buck, but it’s my job. Let me do that and then you can take me home”. His eyes search yours for a few moments before carrying you over to the buildings. Its not long before you’ve put out all the fires. Steve tells Bucky to take me back while he and Sam stay to help out.

Bucky carries you all the way back to the tower. When you get into the elevator you ask Bucky a question that has been playing on your mind since Bucky picked you up, “so, you never did finish that sentence from the conversation we had earlier”. He looks down at you with a half-smile. He takes a few moments to answer, “after everything that just happened you’re still concerned with our conversation from earlier?”.

You raise your eyebrows in a ‘yes, but please answer my question’. He sighs, but it comes across as a nervous sigh, “I was going to say that it’s not as easy as when I’m with you. I was going to say you”. Your heart stops and yet beats faster all at once. You had hoped it would be you, but you never thought that he would actual say that.

Then the doors to the elevator chimes open with Jess standing on the order side. You know what she’s seeing, you in Bucky’s arms lovingly looking up at him as he looks back. Bucky steps forward, but Jess steps back looking hurt. She takes the stairs next to the elevator instead, the door banging shut behind her. Bucky calls out to her, looking down at you and back at the door. You make the choice easier for him, “put me down Bucky”.

He looks at you confused, “what?”.

“Put me down, I can walk from here. You obviously need to go after her”.

“But-“.

“Go Buck. I’ll be fine”. He takes another few seconds before he sets you down gently. He kisses your cheek before running through the door and down the stairs. Before you know it you’ve sunk to the floor with F.R.I.D.A.Y. asking if you need assistance. You ignore her, not having the energy to say anything as you lay back on the floor.

You can feel your body shutting down, wanting to rest, to sleep. You weren’t sure if it was from the beating you’ve taken over the last two days or the heart ache that never seems to go away, but you don’t care. You let the cool tiles seep into your back as you close your eyes to the harsh light in the hall. There’s a roaring in your ears, like the ocean on a stormy day, and every cut and bruise pulses with pain to the time of your heartbeat. You find that it doesn’t quite hurt as much as the ache in your chest. You can’t help that small part of you that wonders about the day that he’ll stay.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of footsteps approaching, Tony’s face coming into focus followed by Thor’s. You give a small smile to Thor having not seen him for a few months, but you see his lips moving and no sound coming out. Tony goes to touch you but pulls his hand away like he’s been burnt. You try to focus more on what your body is doing and that’s when you realise your fingertips are on fire. You make out Tony saying, “F.R.I.D.A.Y. turn the sprinklers on”. They come on immediately, water raining down on all three of you. The fire sputters out, partly from the water and from your efforts.

You’re still not cool enough to be touched yet, but you can hear Tony speak now, “Y/N, are you okay? You need to tell me what’s going on”. You get a flash back to the words the elemental said earlier, “he will come whether you’re ready or not”, and suddenly you begin to cry. Your tears mix with the water raining down, but Tony still notices. Shock over takes his features for a split second. He’s only ever seen you cry once before.

Thor manages to pick you up and you vaguely hear Tony tell him to take you to med bay. You don’t argue as you close your eyes and let your body succumb to sleep.

When you wake up, you don’t open your eyes, wanting to remain in the land of nothing for a few moments more. You know you’re in med bay by the sounds, the smells, the feel of the bed. You can feel someone in the room, but you don’t have the heart to say anything.

It wasn’t long before you hear the door open and Steve’s voice breaks the silence softly, “how is she?”.

Tony’s voice comes from beside you, “still no change”. He sounded tired.

You hear Steve walk into the room, “he really wants to see her Tony”.

Tony’s voice comes out laced with anger, “and I’ve already said I don’t care. He left her in the middle of the hallway. Just to chase after his arse of a girlfriend while Y/N was injured”.

Steve sighs, you can feel the weight of it on your chest, “I know. He messed up and I’ve already given him a hard time about it-“.

Tony cuts him off, “not hard enough. When we found her Steve at the start, she was in a bad place. I’ve grown closer to her than I expected, and I see her like a daughter and I know you see her as your sister. Now if someone left her in the state that she was in as her father I’d kill that person…she cried Steve”.

You could hear the shock in Steve’s voice. He’s seen you cry a few times but not many, “you never told me that”.

The room is silent for a few moments before Tony speaks again, “what happened Steve? I know she’s in love with Bucky, but I think that was just the cherry on top of the shitty cake life made for her. What happened in the city?”.

Steve sounds tired when he answers, “I don’t know. I pulled some footage from cameras but there wasn’t any sound. They definitely said something to her though…whatever it is we’ll fix it, its what we do”.

Permanent Tags: @glimmering-darling-dolly , @justakpopfan4 , @overlywhelmedfangirl

Dancing Shadows Tags: @imeannooffensebabybut , @wandressfox , @animegirlgeeky , @writing-for-a-chance , @damnbuckyishot

#bucky #Bucky Barnes #james barnes #james bucky barnes #james bucannan barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky series #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky fandom #bucky fluff

132 notes · View notes