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#she may have stayed the night at malcolm's
agaypanic · 1 year
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hi! i love ur writing and i rlly hope ur requests are open but i was wondering if you could write a reese wilkerson x reader whos malcolm friend and always runs away when hes there/tries to interact and he thinks its because shes scared of her or something but he overhears her tell malcolm its because she thinks hes cute/has a crush on him?? and then some fluff ending lol thank u! 🫶
Shy (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)
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Summary: Reese thinks he knows why Malcolm’s friend has been avoiding him at all costs, but some unintended eavesdropping will show the truth.
***
People would be surprised when you and Malcolm first started hanging out. You were a relatively shy person, and he came from a very rambunctious family. Opposites attract was definitely the case with the two of you.
But Malcolm was the calmest of his family. Sure, he had his moments, but he knew how to be quiet and chill. 
Someone who didn’t know how to do that was his older brother Reese. He was loud and violent and messy. And for some reason, you really liked it. Of course, you didn’t show it. You always made an excuse to leave the room whenever he entered, trying to calm your pounding heart from seeing him.
It happened so often that Reese started to think you didn’t like or were scared of him. It didn’t surprise him, but that didn’t mean it didn’t disappoint him a little. He thought you were one of Malcolm’s more tolerable friends, and a pretty one at that. But he could never have a real conversation with you because by the time he thought of something to say to you beyond ‘hi,’ you’d run off to who knows where.
It started bothering Reese to the point where he decided to ask Malcolm what was up.
“What’s up with Y/n?” He asked after you had gone home one night.
“What do you mean?” Malcolm asked, heading to their room. “She seemed fine to me.”
“She keeps running away whenever I come in the room; I barely have the time to say something to her.”
“Why do you care, Reese?” Malcolm turned around and looked at his brother in confusion. “Since when does it matter to you whether or not someone runs away from you? You thrive off of that kind of stuff.”
Reese stayed quiet, lying on his bed to avoid the question. 
“Oh my god, do you like Y/n?” Malcolm looked horrified at the thought.
“Of course not!” Reese immediately sat up. “Why would I like her? She’s soft and quiet and pretty and nice. We’re nothing alike.”
“I can’t believe you like my friend.”
“I just told you I don’t like her!”
“Well, I don’t believe you!” Malcolm sat down on his bed facing Reese. They sat in silence for a moment. Malcolm sighed. “Do you want me to ask her for you?”
“Yes!” Reese cleared his throat, trying not to seem too excited. “Yeah, sure.”
***
Malcolm met up with you the next day at school. He dragged you off somewhere, saying he wanted to ask you something privately. He was so quick to lead you, you didn’t notice someone following you two at a distance.
“Mal, are you okay?” You asked at his urgency.
“Yeah, just wanted to ask you something.”
“I know, but you could’ve asked me out there. You didn’t need to drag me somewhere.”
“Well, I just wanted some privacy.” He shrugged. You decided to let it go.
“Okay, what did you wanna know?”
“Why do you keep running away from Reese?” That was certainly not what you were expecting.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb, Y/n. Every time you’re in the same room as him, you make an excuse to leave. What’s up with that?”
“I don’t know, I just do.” You shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. You didn’t want your friend to know you harbored a massive crush on his brother.
“Y/n, come on.” He urged.
“Fine.” You sighed. You hated how Malcolm could get any information out of you. “I may or may not have a little crush on Reese.”
“Little.”
“Huge!” You groaned. “I don’t know why. He’s obnoxious and violent and your brother, and I shouldn’t like it, but I do.”
“Really?” You jumped at the sudden voice from behind you. Reese appeared from behind a corner. You immediately looked around for the nearest exit, but Malcolm stopped you by grabbing your wrist.
“No running this time, Y/n.” He pushed you towards Reese and left, not wanting to witness what might happen. You cleared your throat, building up the courage to look him in the eye.
“How much of that did you hear?”
“All of it.” He smirked, and you wanted to dig a hole and die in it. He was gonna use this to make fun of you, and you’d never be able to show your face at the Wilkerson house again. 
“How did you feel about it?”
“Relieved.”
“What?”
“I thought you kept running off because you were scared of me. But turns out it’s because you like me back.” His smirk turned into a wide grin. “Do you wanna go out sometime?”
“Huh?” You were still trying to process the fact that Reese liked you back. Now he wanted to go out on a date with you? “Um, yeah, I’d like that.”
“Promise not to run?” You laughed.
“Promise.”
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wardenparker · 1 year
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Sassenach and the Spaniard - ch 12
Pero Tovar x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst​
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Delirious with sickness and near to death, Pero Tovar finds himself on the doorstep of a village outsider who nurses him back to health just before the winter snows descend. With a black cat for company, a mask on her face, and a biting wit that intrigues him, Pero comes to find out that his new companion is more than what she seems.  ✨  Inspired and influenced by Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander series. ✨ Reader is described as disabled and having hair long enough to cover part of her face.
Rating: Mature Word Count: 13k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this fic include cursing, food mentions, references to previous sexual assault (multiple characters).** Angst, hurt/comfort, loss, questionable use of dialect, mention of infertility, pregnancy, childbirth. Summary: Pero will do whatever it takes to get back to you.  Notes: Sorry this is posting later in the day that usual - my husband was diagnosed with Covid yesterday and it has shaken my timing and routine on a fundamental level. 
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9 ~ Ch 10 ~ Ch 11
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“Sassenach!” His hands are bleeding as he slaps them against the stone, shouting your real name and your nickname alternatively while hot tears stream down his face. Buckled to his knees in front of the monolith that had taken you from him. He was supposed to have gone with you, protected you. The fear of the future disappearing in the horror of losing you to time.
His hand had been flat on yours with you tight in his arms as he pressed your palm to the Stone, and they had all thought that that would be enough. Briac doesn’t dare approach Pero as he screams, but Arwena falls to her knees beside him as her own tears fall - the grief of a sister beside the other half of your soul as it breaks upon the ground.
He doesn’t know how long he stays there. Resistant to moving despite the fact that the sunlight is fading. Aware of the movement around him but not caring. The crackling of a fire can be heard but he doesn’t move, can’t move from where he is keeping his hand against the Stone, praying for the first time in years that he be allowed to follow you.
No one interrupts Pero's prayers, leaving him to beg and plead with God in his own words, even after Arwena moves back to Briac's side. Father Malcolm takes her place, draping a blanket over the Spaniard's shoulders to guard against the cold and bending his own head in prayer. He does not speak aloud, though he has been asked to by parishioners previously, so that Pero can continue his mournful begging in Spanish for as long as he needs.
He sleeps next to the Stone. One bloodied hand pressed against it when his body finally gives way to exhaustion. Taking no food or water before he succumbs to his grief and lays curled on the ground.
It is only the next day that anyone tries to speak to him. Well after the fire has been revived and bread has been broken, Arwena lays her small hand on Pero's arm and gently clears her throat. "We should seek Father Malcolm's clan," she suggests, echoing what the three of them had discussed the previous evening. "They may know secrets of the Stones that we do not."
Pero shakes his head. “I am not leaving.” He growls out, eyes gritty and swollen. His throat is dry and voice cracking from how much he had shouted the night before. “I cannot leave.”
She expected him to say as much, but did not tell Briac or Father Malcolm what she planned to say when he protested. The other two men were focused on what was right to do, and did not understand - or else did not want to admit - how immovable Pero would be. "Then I will stay with you," she tells him in a voice that will accept no argument. "We will send Father Malcolm and Briac on to his clan to find out what they can, and I will stay here with you."
“No.” For the first time since you disappeared from his arms, Pero looks towards Arwena. “I cannot protect you. You can’t stay.”
"I can protect my—" The words dissolve on her tongue when she looks up, seeing into Pero's eyes desperate eyes clearly in the morning sun, but seeing something far more distressing on his face than his sadness. "Holy Mary..." she breathes, tears springing to her own eyes immediately.
Pero frowns, brows scrunched together for a moment at Arwena’s tears but figures it is just the grief of losing her friend. “Go with your husband.” He urges her, turning back to the stone and wincing in pain from the rawness of his palm.
"Pero." Her hand on his arm tightens, and she swallows thickly. "Your—your scar..." If leaving her life in Brittany behind was difficult, finishing this sentence feels downright impossible. "It is…gone."
If it’s possible to feel anymore broken, it’s this moment. The moment where he realizes that the connection with you is gone. The scream of agony that rips out of his throat sounds like an animal, harsh and wild until his voice completely breaks. Collapsing against the Stone once more with a weak curse and fresh tears.
Arwena tries not to flinch, but her tears are silent compared to Pero's roaring despair. She sits beside him, unmoving, a silent pillar of support as he rails against God and time and all of the powers of the universe. What can she even say, when her own heart is broken as well?
His voice is hoarse, cracking as he sobs. Making his entire body shake with intensity, he wonders if this is a curse on him for his sins. Or if the Stones had heard him when he said he didn’t want to go to your time. He had been wrong. He would follow you anywhere, as long as he was by your side.
Eventually, she manages to get him to stop screaming for even a moment, and the two of them kneel with Pero leaning against Arwena's side like she is the wall that will hold him upright. "I will stay beside you," she promises him, hushed words between two people in grief. If his scar has disappeared, then there is no power in this world that could move her and Briac from his side. They will not abandon their family.
“She is gone.” Pero chokes out, eyes burning and throat raw. “Dead or in her own time, both maybe.”
"Which is why we should seek the Father's clan," she insists, finally wrapping Pero's broad frame in her small arms. "To find out how to get you to her."
He doesn’t have the will or strength to fight anymore. His will beaten down and his soul crushed. Instead of answering, he just gives a nod, pulling his hand away from the Stone and blinking owlishly down at his split skin.
"Here." Placing her palm carefully over Pero's, Arwena murmurs a few words under her breath and feels warmth course through her, her heartbeat moving through her skin to Pero's and closing the open wound there after just a few seconds' time. "It will still ache," she tells him as she helps him stand on weak legs. "But it will no longer bleed."
“Thank you.” It’s a hollow and whispered thanks, but he gives it anyway. Sluggish and stumbling, he comes over to the fire and sits down heavily on a log that the fire had been built near.
Father Malcolm says nothing at first, simply setting bread and cheese in front of Pero and settling the last cup of wine in the grass at the man's feet. If anyone in the world had ever earned the solace of a cup of wine, it was Pero Tovar in this moment. When Pero does not eat or drink, Malcolm prods the fire that Arwena lit with her fingertips and stares into its flames. "I cannot imagine your pain," he says after a long time of silence between the four of them. "But I will do whatever is in my power to help you find her again."
“My soul is missing its other half.” Pero croaks, staring down at the hands that had held you until the second you disappeared. “Her mark— it’s gone.” The only sliver of hope he retains is that he did not get any of your marks until you arrived in this time. “The others will be as well.”
"There is a woman in my clan who collects stories of the Stones." Malcolm tells him, looking up. He does his level best not to gape at the smooth skin framing the Spaniard's eye - marred by that deep and unforgettable scar until so recently. "My grandmother. We will see what she has to say."
“I will go back.” Pero will get through to your time or they will find his bones moldering at the base of the Stones. There are no other options for the Spaniard.
"Aye." Arwena agrees wholeheartedly, but she also nudges the food closer to him when she nods. "We will find out everything we can about how the Stones work, and how to get you through them. But you'll need your strength for the journey."
“We will go to Spain. Get you settled.” Pero decides, knowing you would want to know that your friends, your family really, were set up properly. “You will be carrying a babe soon.”
"After we see Malcolm's clan." Arwena insists. There is enough likelihood that she is with child already, and if that is the case then it does not matter where she is. Her discomfort and her joy will be equal no matter what. "They are so nearby; it would be a mistake not to."
Pero turns to the priest. “How far away are they?” He demands. He is not traveling for days in the wrong direction.
"A day. No more." Malcolm assures him, sensing that this is a point of contention. "West of here. I was raised on an island called Skye and my clan remains there."
“Yes—fine.” Pero grunts, rolling his eyes. What was one more day in the long term? He doesn’t know how to get back to you and maybe they can help.
"Briac and I will ready the horses, then." The young priest stands, wiping his hands on his robe and nodding to Arwena. "We ride when the two of you have eaten. A weak rider will only prolong the journey." And that is something that he can tell Pero Tovar will not stand for.
Pero would have sworn he couldn’t eat. That he was too emotional, which for him is unusual. However, as soon as he takes a sip of the wine and a bite of his bread, he turns ravenous. Tearing into the simple meal ferociously and wolfing it down like he had so many times before he had come to be at your cottage.
It is Arwena who only nibbles, her grief being so different than his, but when the time comes to ride she is stoic and true. What she cannot stomach she wraps in a cloth and tucks away before putting Binx’s sling around her neck and coaxing the melancholy cat into her arms. The unique little creature seemed almost to understand the reason for everyone’s grief, and had spent hours of the day before yowling mournfully in her own right while Briac pet her softly and cried his own silent tears.
“Let me have her.” Pero insists gruffly for a moment before his tone softens. “Please. She— Sassenach—” he breaks off and shakes his head, unable to articulate why he needs to hold the cat now but he knows Arwena will understand.
“Aye.” There is not even a moment of hesitation in her before she takes the sling from off her neck and gives the cat over to Pero’s safe keeping for the journey ahead. “Go with your papá, gato,” she tells Binx quietly, knowing the usually opinionated feline will not protest.
The sling goes over Pero’s neck and the cat immediately leaps from it, claws digging into his leathers as she winds herself around his neck and meows several times while head butting him. “I know, Gato.” Pero chokes out, his fingers scratching her ears. “I know.”
They paint a mournful picture, but the whole party resembles something of a funeral procession as they mount their horses. The crossing to the Isle of Skye is not far and they will be welcomed, but it does not mean that any of them have cause for cheer. He doesn’t have the energy to look mean, to cast a wary and warning eye towards anyone who crosses their path. Instead he’s almost catatonic as he moves with his horse, trusting the animal to correct any mistakes he makes.
******
It is late that night when the party arrives at the barge that will take them to the isle of Father Malcolm’s childhood, and they find out quickly that if they had arrived without the priest they might have had trouble.
“‘Oo goes?” Asks the figure on the water’s edge.
“Malcolm MacLeod.” The priest is at the front of the group, and leads his horse forward a few more steps. “Ye cannot scare me, Alistair MacLeod. We are come to see Seanmhair Ede.” Binx is now in her sling, asleep from the gentle rocking of the horse and she stirs slightly and pokes her head over the material to see what is going on.
“Malcolm?” The man at the water draws his hood down and steps forward, squinting in the light of his own fire before bounding forward jovially. “God’s graces, man. We never did think to be seein’ ye again.”
“I wish it were for a happier reason,” Malcolm admits. “Please, will you take us across? The journey has been weary and there is much to say when we are safe inside Dunvegan’s walls.”
Alistair seems to eye the rest of the group for only a moment. That seems to be all he needs to determine that Malcolm is not lying or withholding anything important in this moment. “Aye,” he nods, waving the group forward. “Yer Da will be glad to see you well. Come on, then.”
Pero doesn’t speak, instead he just sighs and shifts in his saddle. Not interested in a family reunion in the slightest. He just wants to know the secrets of the Stones. How to get back to you.
The barge here is far friendlier than the one they had crossed from Brittany into England on, and Arwena crowds Briac’s space as Malcolm nods along with his kinsman’s jovial chatter. There is only a little while left to ride, the priest explains when they are firmly on MacLeod land, and at the end of the journey will be a warm bed for each of them and food enough for kings. “And answers,” he promises Pero, when no other enticement moves the stoic warrior.
“Good.” Pero grunts out, paying little attention to anything else. He knows he made the right decision to send you back, you were dying. You would have done the same. He hopes.
Alistair rides with you to Dunvegan Castle, leaving one of the younger men in charge of the barge for the rest of the night, and heads first to the kitchens for food and wine before anything else. “I will show ye to beds for the night, but my own good mother may disapprove and know of somethin’ better in the morning.” He chuckles as if it were a joke, and Malcolm shakes his head, but no one else laughs. “I will go to my brothers,” Malcolm offers. “We need only two beds. These soulmates were wed just days ago.”
“I can bunk in the stables.” The last thing Pero wants is to listen to Briac and Arwena, not having his own sweet wife with him. He doesn’t want to leave Binx and they may not allow him the cat in the castle. “Got the cat.”
“Nonsense.” Alistair shakes his head. “There’s room enough for all.” Though he does sense a hesitation in the man, and glances at the young couple. “If ye prefer not to listen to yer daughter and her husband, we’ll just bunk ye separately. No harm there.”
“Thank you. They—deserve to be unworried about me being close.” Pero makes out like he is doing them a favor.
No one protests for even a second at the identification of being a family, and soon enough find themselves inside rooms with beds and fires with trays of food and their packs by their sides. “We will speak with my grandmother first thing in the morning,” Malcolm assures Pero at his door, knowing that the next thing he says will be met with a dubious response. “Sleep if you can.”
“Thank you, Father.” The words are whispered and Pero doesn’t even have the energy to scoff. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and just wants to be alone.
“Good night.” He wants to give words of comfort. That is part of the mantle he took up when he joined the clergy – to be the port in every wayward storm. But this is a grief unlike any other man has known before. So rather than harp on the pain, he will pray for the strength to be Pero’s guidance in the days and weeks to come.
Once the door is closed, Pero lets Binx out of her sling to sniff and inspect the room. It’s a room you would love. He imagines you moaning as you fall back into the thick mattress and giggling to yourself at the fact that you are in a castle.
Binx shakes herself off, prowling the borders of the room before weaving her way around the sparse furniture and finally leaping up onto the bed to situate herself firmly in front of one of the two pillows. On the side of the bed you normally sleep on. The cat does not hesitate to take up her place warming your spot, snuggling into the furs there as easily as if it were your own bed in the cottage.
The sight of the cat soothes him and yet it also makes him miss you more. “Do you expect me to talk to you like she did?” He huffs, bringing the tray of food over. He should eat, but he was going to give her the choice of meats - even if they were cooked when she prefers raw.
Binx tips her head and meows, a clear and decisive ’yes’ to answer his question. The food, of course, is a help, but she will keep him close just as she kept you.
It’s not a laugh, more like a slightly amused huff. Pero uncovers the tray and spies some roasted pheasant on the tray that’s been baked into a pie. “Have some bird here for you.” He says, unsheathing his dagger and cutting away the thick, flaky crust. He picks up a piece of the meat and holds it out for her. “Well? Come eat, I know you are hungry too. Or are you going to catch a fat mouse while I’m asleep?”
The cat raises her head, sniffing the air with interest before stretching forward and getting up again to retrieve the offered meat. She mews her thanks and butts her head against his hand, but it will not stop her from catching a fat castle mouse during the night. She may even leave the prize for him to find in the morning if she feels like boasting.
Pero lets his fingers trail over her back, stroking her fur. “Are you going to yell at me to eat?” He asks, feeling slightly better just having your familiar with him still.
She headbutts his hand again, her mouth currently occupied with eating, but she nudges closer to him and settles down facing him as though she intends to keep an eye on him.
“Fine.” Pero grumbles, moving away from the bed so he can bar the door and strip out of his armor and clothes. The cat has seen him in the nude more than she’s seen him dressed so what did it matter how he ate?
The sound Binx makes it almost a huff, and when Pero settles in bed with his tray she nestles herself directly against his side. Fool, she calls him with an exaggerated feline glare. You have no fur of your own to keep you warm.
Most of the meat goes to the cat, while Pero eats the bread and cheese, drinking the mead in greedy gulps and trying to forget that you love mead. “We will learn the truth of the Stones tomorrow.” Pero murmurs once finished.
Purring softly, Binx butts her head against Pero's side affectionately, as if she were suggesting that she would be at his side for things to come. In actuality, her attachment to him has become a fierce one, and if she were human rather than feline Pero might have two young women that the world sees as devoted daughters. As she is, your familiar nudges him once more and then rests her head on his hand and shuts her eyes - Binx's instructions on what he should do next are very clear.
“I know I need to sleep.” Pero murmurs as he leans over and blows out the candle without disturbing the cat’s place on his hand. The only light in the room comes from the fire now. “I just don’t know if I can without her.” He admits to himself. “Not anymore.”
******
The next morning comes with a knock to Pero's door and the young priest's familiar voice rousing him to the waking world many hours after sunrise. Binx is curled into the shape you had described as a cinnamon roll on the second pillow beside his head after a successful bout of mouse hunting in the middle of the night. The world of Dunvegan Castle is bustling outside his room, but Father Malcolm does nothing except knock and call his name before moving on again. If the Spaniard is able to sleep, he should. Rest has not come easy of late.
It had been a long time before Pero’s eyes had closed, but he feels better after the little sleep he did get. Pulling on his clothes and hissing at how cold it is, he is unbarring the door and stepping out within a few minutes, eager to talk to someone about the Stones.
Binx springs off the bed to keep at his heels, winding her way through the corridors that Pero cautiously navigates, following the sound of Father Malcolm's voice to the Great Hall where Malcolm, Alistair, Arwena, and Briac are sitting before a spread of food and drink with an old woman who appears to be appraising Arwena with all the authority of a queen.
Pero comes to a halt, shuffling slightly and wondering who to address. He hadn’t been paying attention with the priest had been talking as they traveled so he had no idea who this woman is.
“Here he is.” Arwena beckons Pero over from the table, still looking tired though she did manage to sleep a full night at Briac’s side. It is her best guess that she will feel exhausted a long while more - for that is what grief can do. The white-haired woman sitting next to her squints slightly in his direction but only takes a sip from the cup in her hands, saying nothing.
Walking over, Pero stands by the table even though there are seats aplenty to sit down at. He knows that he will be invited to sit or to be left to stand by the old woman and he is too exhausted to deny her that right. He won't hurt his chances of learning what he needs to know.
“This is your friend?” The old woman’s voice is strong and clear, and she smiles - which seems to surprise Malcolm and Alistair. “Come and sit, friend. Break your fast with us and ask me those questions I see swimming in your eyes.”
Pero nods respectfully and sits down beside Briac. The mead is poured for him, but he leans forward to watch the old woman steadily. “The Father said you could tell me about the Stones. I need to know.”
“But what do you need to know?” The woman holds his gaze steadily. “The Stones have many secrets.”
“My soulmate is from another time.” He doesn’t care how crazy he sounds, he needs answers. “She came through the stones nearly eight years ago and she was sent back yesterday but I—” His still raw voice cracks. “The Stones kept me here. Why?”
“Our Sassenach.” She smiles, a nostalgic look of fondness on her birdlike face. “I am sorry to hear she has gone.”
“That’s right.” Pero had forgotten in his grief that you had been sheltered here for some time. “Tell me how to get to her.” He begs, desperate. “I need— my— her scars are gone.” He needs to know what happened to you, even if you died. He needs to know.
“That is because she has not been born yet.” The old woman tells him matter of factly, and pushes his cup of mead closer to him before reaching for her own.
“Good mother…” Father Malcolm clears his throat gently to cut in. “Sassenach was near death when we brought her to the Stones.” He reminds her. “We are not simply seeking a traveler. We wish to know if there is any way we can see if she survived.”
Malcolm’s grandmother frowns, picking up a piece of bread to inspect before popping it into her mouth and chewing. “Well of course she survived,” she tells the whole group, seemingly offended that they would think otherwise. “Have you ever heard of a white witch being eaten by stone?”
Pero’s relief makes him shrink, sagging down towards the table and snatching up the mead to gulp down like he is dying of thirst. Audibly swallowing the mead in great gulps before setting down the cup a little harder than polite. “How do I get to her?”
“Do you have magic?” The question is straight forward. Not teasing or taunting or judgmental in any way, but the old woman’s face is full of curiosity.
Pero frowns slightly, thinking about the time he questioned you about conjuring the fire. If it could be taught. “If I do, I do not know it.” He admits, stomach sinking.
“I have never heard of a person without magic traveling through the Stones.” She admits, though she sees the pain it causes this man to be told as much. “You must find out what you are capable of, and then you will know if you can follow her.”
If it’s possible, his heart shatters again. Sure that he will be separated from his soulmate forever. “I see.”
“The Stones know what is needed.” The woman tells Pero, leaning forward in her seat. “If there is another witch in your past, seek her out. Learn all that you can. I cannot swear that the Stones will return you to your Sassenach’s side, but the stories say that traveling through them brings you home.”
“I can do it.” Arwena’s voice is strong and sure, her eyes moving between Pero and Good Mother Ede in her eagerness. “I am a witch. Sassenach taught me as others taught her. If you have magic, Pero, we will find it together.”
“Be careful admitting that so easily.” Pero tells her quietly, still not trusting any but his own people at the table. It’s one thing to take information, it’s another to give.
“All is safe within these walls.” Ede promises. “But you are correct, Pero Tovar. If you are to study witchcraft, you must do so quietly and safely. There are evil men in this world who would take it for granted. Or else, lash out in fear.”
“I have trained to be a warrior.” Briac assures the older woman. “To protect my soulmate and her gifts. Pero has taught me himself.”
That makes Ede nod, the approval on her face clear as day, and she reaches over to out her hand on Briac’s shoulder. “To be taught by a warrior who has defeated the Tao Tei is a great thing. You have already defended your family bravely.”
It feels like the air has been sucked out of Pero’s lungs. He has told one person about the monsters in China. And it wasn’t this old woman.
“The what?” Briac’s eyes track to Pero in confusion.
“The Tao Tei.” Pero looks at the older woman’s slightly smug expression. “How did you—?”
“I cannot weave spells as your wife did,” Ede tells him. “But I can see the truth that is written in your soul as clearly as I can see the nose on your face. It is a different kind of magic.”
“Fantastic.” Pero murmurs to himself, in awe of that ability. “Do you know if I reach her?” He asks, slightly desperate to hear it.
“It is not as simple as that.” Ede replies, obviously regretful of that fact. If she could assure him of his success, she would do so immediately. “But I can see you are destined for great happiness. That you will hold a newborn bairn in your arms. You will never again hunger or lack shelter. A beloved friend will be returned to you in time. And though there is still much travel in store for you, it will not be so hard as the journeys you have made thus far.”
Pero immediately bites his tongue, wanting to say that he will never hold a newborn babe because you can’t have children, but then he realizes that she doesn’t necessarily mean his own child. Instead he softens at the idea of holding the child of the two he has come to view as family before he tries to reach you again. “Thank you.” He murmurs, unable to express his gratitude. “Them?” He asks, nodding towards Briac and Arwena. “They are safe? Happy?”
“They have one more journey before their happiest days are upon them.” Ede smiles, a soft expression from a woman already a great-grandmother several times over. “And a legacy that will last far beyond the reckoning of anyone at this table. Beginning with the bairn already on his way.”
Arwena practically beams at the news that she is carrying Briac’s child and the man himself looks like he’s about to cry. “We will be well.” He whispers as if he is reassuring himself as well as Pero.
“Aye.” Malcolm nods, his presence at the table all but forgotten in the face of his grandmother’s conversation. “My grandmother is never mistaken in her sights.”
“You have journey enough too, Malcolm MacLeod.” Ede tells him, smirking when Alistair chuckles like his cousin has been scolded. “You will live in service of this family a while longer before your duty is done.”
Pero looks over at the couple as they quickly join hands and lean together, sharing their joy at the new life they will bring into the world. He knows that they will need protection, spiritually. “Come with us.” He decides suddenly, the fact that this priest accepts the magic for what it is - a gift - is a miracle and can ease their journey wherever they go. “To Valencia. There is always a need for a priest.”
“Returning to Gretna may be…difficult.” Briac admits, knowing that the priest is now associated with the deaths that occurred there simply by virtue of leaving with those who committed them. “Aye.” Malcolm nods with a moment’s hesitation. “I will write to the bishop and follow you, if that is your will. My life in Gretna had not yet begun and you…” His eyes travel between the young couple and Pero. “I feel I was always meant to know you, somehow.”
Pero does not doubt that, not when he was saved by you so many years ago when you came to this time. “It must be your will as well.” Pero reminds him. “But while I am learning magic, I will make sure you are protected properly as a man of the cloth and I know Briac will as well.”
“As a priest, I am a servant to God’s Will, and He has placed you directly into my path.” Of all the things that have been true about Malcolm’s life, his faith is the thing that has never wavered and always been his beacon. To ignore that now would be to ignore the way he has lived his entire life. “There can be nothing more divine than helping those in need.”
Pero nods and looks over at the old woman. "Thank you, for what you could tell me." He grunts, wishing it were more, but it would have to do. "I will be with her again."
“I know you are disappointed it was not more.” Ede offers Pero an apologetic smile. “Have patience with your path. Life is not as simple as putting one foot in front of the other.”
“It should be.” Pero grumbles, frowning down into his mead before he drains the rest of it. “We should leave tomorrow.” He decides, looking around the table. “Yes?”
“You should sail.” Alistair taps the table with blunted fingertips. “Land travel may be safer to some, but with a bairn on the way ye’d be better off getting there faster.”
As much as Pero hates the idea of sailing he knows it might be easier on Arwena, and faster. He nods and frowns. “Do you know of any ships sailing now?”
“Aye,” Alistair nods. “Me father’s bound for London in three days’ time. From there you can find passage to anywhere.”
Pero itches to leave now and opens his mouth to say so, but he glances over at Arwena and sees the way that her shoulders are slumped with grief and fatigue. He stops, closing his mouth for a moment and imagines what you would say if you were here. "Three days would give us time to rest and perhaps reshod our horses." He murmurs after a moment. "Perhaps get the girl looked at by the midwife?"
“Aye.” Alistair is eager to help, that much is clear, and when he taps on the tabletop again it is rhythmic and excited. “Not that I know much of the business meself, but me own good wife is a midwife’s apprentice. I’ll ask her to see that yer girl is looked after.”
“Good.” He looks over at Arwena. “Learn all you can in case there is not a good one nearby when we settle.” He tells her, knowing it might be him and Briac helping her deliver the babe.
“I will.” Knowing for certain that she is carrying her husband - her soulmate’s - child, Arwena feels a heavy mix of pride, joy, and a deep sadness that you are not here to be witness to the birth of the child you helped ensure. “And I will begin to teach you everything I can as soon as you are ready.”
Pero nods and turns towards Briac. "We should make sure the horses are ready for travel, especially on a ship, while the Father spends some time with his family."
“I will make sure we are ready to travel in three days’ time.” Briac would do anything for Arwena’s comfort and safety, and taking care of their precious animals is the least of things.
******
Three days later, Pero is better rested but his heart still aches for you. Determination to learn magic so he can journey back to the stones and find you is what keeps him from losing his sense of purpose, although Arwena and Briac are also counting on him. "Thank you for your hospitality." He murmurs to Ede, nodding gratefully as she stands on the steps leading into the castle, her shawl wrapped around her bony frame to ward off the cold.
“When you see our Sassenach again, will you tell her she’s not forgotten?” Ede had always been fond of you while you sheltered with the clan, and she clasps Pero’s hand now as tight as her age-worn muscles will allow. “Go in good faith, Pero, and keep your family safe.”
"I will." He turns to Alistair and nods, offering his hand as well. The man had been very eager to help and it had been refreshing. The clan of this isle were good people. "Many thanks for the help."
“May yer new lives be joyous, safe, and prosperous.” The younger man returns Pero’s hold and nods before embracing this cousin. “And go in God’s graces.”
Pero turns towards the younger couple and takes Binx from Arwena. She has been taken to spending time with the pregnant woman and in Pero’s mind, it’s a good thing. She will stay behind when he leaves for the stones again and protect his family in this time. “Ready, Gato?”
Against Pero's chest, Binx sits straight up in his arms like a soldier at attention - not her normal personality but her own way of showing him that she understands her duty. True to form though, she purrs deep in her chest and butts his chin with the top of her head, that sign of deep affection being something she reserves just for him.
“I know.” He scratches her ears and smiles slightly. She has helped him not miss you quite so much, some of her own personality a reflection of the woman who she had guarded. “We will see if you like to travel by boat, eh? See where I come from?”
Her eager meow makes Arwena laugh softly, and Binx crawls from Pero's arms to sit on his shoulder like a dutiful look out as the party sets out for the docks on the edge of the island. The walk is not far and the meal they shared before leaving the castle will still be sitting warm in their bellies by the time they board the ship.
The horses had already been put down into the holds of the ship, sent on ahead with their supplies and bags. Pero isn't eager for the voyage, always slightly unsettled on the water but he is eager to get to his homeland. To get settled and to learn what he needs to get back to you.
“There’s a cabin for ye young ones.” The captain tells them, ready to have his passengers tucked away safely so they can get under way. “There’s hammocks enough with the crew for our Sassenach’s husband and Malcolm.” The only reason he even agreed to take passengers at all was because it was Ede’s orders. His mother is a formidable woman - always has been - and is even more so with every year that passes.
"Gracias." Pero nods, sending a small smirk towards the younger couple. They were still very much in the celebration stage of their marriage and privacy was needed for them. Especially since Braic is proud as a peacock about his wife's state.
“Aye. Thank you.” Arwena’s grip on Briac’s hand is tight, smiling and grateful despite being nervous. The barge passing from Brittany to England was the longest she had ever been on the water before now, and this voyage was meant to span nearly ten full days. Only for them to have to charter another ship in London to make it all the way to Spain.
“I’ll take you below.” Father Malcolm offers, nodding toward the hold. “I crewed this ship for my uncle as a teenager. Anything you need, you can ask me instead of interrupting the crew.”
The cabin is tiny, holding nothing more than a built-in bunk and small table with the crockery fitted into holes to keep it from crashing to the floor in rough seas. Not meant to be inhabited for more than sleep, but she is grateful to have this. "It's perfect."
“If the bairn makes you ill on the voyage, Briac will see you anything you need.” Malcolm is sure of that, after now spending a week with the newlyweds. “The crew sleeps just beyond your cabin, and the galley is across the hold.”
“I’ll make myself acquainted with the ship after we are under way.” For his part, Briac is probably the most excited of the group. This adventure bodes only the best things for him and his small family, and he is grateful to keep his mentor by their side a while longer.
Pero and Binx stay on the top deck, the cat watching the commotion as the crew prepare to get the ship underway. "They will be happy to have you eat all the rats running around the holds." Pero murmurs to the cat, knowing that she had been highly praised in the three days they were with the Father's clan. She had left several vermin at the end of the bed for Pero's inspection every morning and there was evidence she had eaten her fill as well. She was several pound heavier and he had lovingly teased her about turning plump.
Binx mews proudly, situated in her now customary perch on Pero’s shoulder. You would have laughed and teased her to see her so well behaved with him, and perhaps if you were here she would be less so, but that does not mean she would even think of leaving his side now. The only person your familiar loves as much now is Arwena.
After boarding, it’s another hour before the ropes are cast off, the ship pulling away from the dock and Pero stands there, watching the land get farther and farther away. Remembering the time he was with you on the barge and wishing you were in his arms now.
“Pero?” Arwena’s voice behind him surprises him, but she steps around his broad form on the deck and lays a hand gently on his arm. “I know you are eager to begin.” He had given her the time and space to learn from the midwives while they were still at Dunvegan Castle, but she can feel the impatience rolling off him in waves more insistent than the sea beneath them.
“I am.” There is no denying that, not when that is going to bring him closer to getting back to you. “But we should not test the crew’s superstitions.”
“Come below decks,” she insists, smiling encouragingly. “We will use the cabin. And focus on something other than flame.”
Pero nods, turning and following her down the steep steps that lead below the deck and he loses sight of land and water.
“I probably know the answer.” Arwena hums, shutting the door behind the man everyone acknowledges as her father and sitting down on one end of the bunk she will share with Briac come nightfall. “But is there anything in particular that you have interest in learning? I know you are determined, but this could also be enjoyable.” They both know that it is possible Pero is without magic. Ede’s confidence that defeating the Tao Tei shows he is able does not completely squelch their fears.
“I—I asked Sassenach about the fire.” He admits to Arwena with a rueful grin. “Before we learned you have the gift. She had said she did not know if it could be taught.”
“She doubted her own abilities.” Arwena admits, the sadness in her tone apparent. “She should not have. I can teach you fire if you desire it, but I think that would not be wise while on board a ship of wood.”
“Very astute of you.” Pero snorts, shaking his head at himself. “What would you teach me?” He is curious to know what else he could be taught, having spent most of your lessons with the girl outdoors with Briac teaching him how to survive.
“With how you ride, you may be more akin to the air than to fire.” Arwena suggests, shifting in the cot so that her legs are folded under her - the way you would sit when you were comfortable in front of the fire. “You may be more inclined to lifting and moving things with magic rather than setting them aflame.”
“That would be useful.” Pero admits, imagining the relief his back would feel if that was the case. He is disappointed to not use fire, but he does not wish to burn the ship down.
“Choose something small and light to begin with.” She sits back to try to give him space, knowing that if he is not successful it will be a very long journey full of great sorrow.
Pero twitches nervously and looks around the cramped space. “Your bag.” He points to the small bag with Arwena’s herbs and the book you had written for her. “How about that?”
“Aye.” She reaches for it, setting the bag between them on the bunk so there is nothing between Pero and the bag. “Sassenach says that the key to magic is balance.” She tells him, keeping her voice quiet in case a crew member should pass the cabin. “And Ede said that it is desire made real. For my part? I can tell you that it is something that you feel…though I do not know how much that will help you in the beginning.”
“I have desire.” Pero huffs, although he knows Arwena is well aware of how much desire he has to learn what he needs to get back to you. “Do I just…see the bag lifting?” He asks in confusion.
“That is part of it.” Nodding, Arwena pays no mind when Binx crawls from her space beside Pero and into the girl’s lap. The cat seems content to watch as things unfold. “Close your eyes first. Focus on the way the air feels around you. If the hairs on your arm are moved by it. If you can feel it move past your face.”
Pero is not a patient man, but his eyes squeeze shut instantly and his brow pulls together as he tries to feel the air around him. Jaw tight, his hands bunch into fists.
“Softly.” Arwena has her own worries about whether or not these lessons will work - if she will be a good enough teacher to help him achieve his goals - but those are not for sharing. Not with Pero, anyway. With him, she reaches out and takes his hands, encouraging him to loosen his iron grip. “You can’t feel the air above the boiling of your own blood.”
Pero exhales roughly, knowing she is right and tries to relax. “I am not going to be able to do this.” He murmurs, giving voice to his greatest fear.
"You cannot know that." It is all of their fear - their collective and joined terror - that Pero will be entirely without magic and not be able to follow you through the Stones. But as you soothed her and guided her through the most terrifying time in her young life, Arwena is resolute in guiding Pero through this. Even if he meant nothing to her, she would do it for you. But he is her family and she will not fail him. "It may not be easy, but Ede was confident that you have magic in you. We must have faith that it will show itself with time."
He taught Briac to fight, to survive, he reminds himself. It takes time to learn something, especially as nuanced as magic. Blowing out a breath, he nods. “Sí, sí.” He agrees quietly, his heart aching as he hears your voice underneath her words, as if you are speaking to him. “I will need to remember that.”
"I will remind you whenever you need." She can promise him that easily. She would promise him anything that she knew was true, and even a few things that she cannot verify, if only it would help him to have hope. "I simply...I cannot imagine a world so cruel that it would bring you together for such a great love only to separate you again. I truly cannot."
“I would deserve it.” He murmurs quietly, still believing that his past crimes would warrant being unhappy. “Despite what Sassenach would believe, I am not a good man.”
"She would tell you that you have repented enough." Arwena reaches forward and takes one of his large hands in both of her smaller ones. "And that is without ever knowing that you avenged her on her attacker. You are far better than you think you are, padre." She knows what fathers are called in Spain. She had asked you months ago. But until this last step toward their new life in his homeland she had never felt it appropriate to use. Families, though, can be chosen. And Arwena could not possibly think of a man she more wanted to stand in place as her father than this ornery mercenary with his hidden virtues.
Pero’s eyes fly open in shock and he nearly chokes when she calls him that. It’s true what he told you, he had never imagined fathering children so he hadn’t been disturbed when finding you are barren. These children – not really children, but children - were the closest he has ever been to younger humans and he loves them. Would give his life for them. What’s the best the world has to offer them. Is that what being a father is?
"After all that we have been through together, it is only fair that you know how I think of you," she tells him, squeezing his hands gently. "If it is not what you wish...for me to use that title...I will respect it. But I feel it with all my heart."
“No—” Pero quickly shakes his head. “I— it’s okay. I— I like it.” He promises, a decidedly shy smile on his face. “I feel the same way.”
"Then perhaps Briac will not be so afraid to ask you if we might become la familia Tovar when we arrive in London." His acceptance makes her light up from within, the warm glow of happiness spilling out of her so much more easily than any of the rest of them despite everything she has been through. "He wants to thank you for everything you have done. Without you and Sassenach..." Arwena's smile turns soft with a hint of melancholy. "Well...your grandchild should bear your family name. Family by choice and not by blood, as she would say." And how many, many times you had said it.
“Only—” Pero had to swallow, the emotions stealing his voice. “Only if that is your wish.” He assures her. “I am honored.”
"I wish it wholeheartedly." And she would never have him think otherwise. "And I will do everything in my power to send you back to madre." She smiles again, softer still. "If only you will remember to tell her how much we love and miss her when you see her again."
“That is an absolute.” Pero murmurs. If he could, he would demand they all go, even if he feels as if he will be a burden to you in your time. A fish on land.
"If it was possible for us all to go, I would want nothing more," she murmurs, as if reading his mind. "But there is no way to know if the babe will be able to go through the Stones, or Briac. And I could not imagine my life without them."
“No, you must stay here and protect your babe.” Pero would never want Briac to go through the same angst and heartbreak Pero is experiencing. Plus, there is this feeling that it is necessary that his family stays in their own time.
"And you must venture forth to find your wife." Sitting back again, Arwena smooths her hand over her bag and nods to Pero with imagined authority. "Now. Try to feel the air around you, padre."
******
“We are coming up on it soon.” Pero shifts in his saddle, his eyes bright, although they would be even more so if you were by his side. His excitement of seeing his childhood home dimmed by the fact that he still has not produced any magic and it has now been nearly three months since you disappeared through the stones.
"There?" Briac points at a farmhouse in the distance - sitting confidently on top of a small hill amidst a valley of trees that are only just starting to blossom. Almonds and oranges, Pero had told them, were what his family had grown for many generations. And animals, of course.
“Yes.” The smile is bittersweet, seeing the overgrowth on the house, obviously not in use. “My mamá and papá are buried underneath the largest tree.” He knows that the priest in the village would have honored his father’s wishes.
"Padre Cristoval seemed excited to have a younger priest in the parish." Arwena had noted the gratitude in the old man's eyes when Father Malcolm had explained traveling to the area with la familia Tovar as they were now known. Culla, Padre Cristoval explained, is a growing village that could only benefit from more spiritual guidance. He had welcomed the young foreigner with open arms. "He was also excited to see padre." Arwena laughs, running one hand along the underside of her belly. It is growing larger every day and she will be glad for a few days of rest. "I thought he might fall to his knees and weep for the sight of you all grown into a man."
“The priest held my baptism.” Pero grouses, even though he is smirking slightly. “We will get to the house and clear away the brush to get you inside. Make sure we clear out the vermin.”
“Binx will have them under control before we know it.” Arwena commends, remembering how fast the feline had taken care of the mice on board both ships even if she had openly disliked being in the water. “But I think she will be glad to be on land again permanently.”
Pero chuckles and looks over at the cat who is contently perched on Arwena’s saddle. As her pregnancy has become advanced the feline has spent more time with her, especially when she is traveling.
Binx meows loudly and proudly, far preferring the sight of land to that of water, and nuzzles Arwena’s hand. “We are lucky to find your homestead.” She remarks, letting her mount drift closer to Pero’s. “It would have been quite a battle over land as beautiful as this.”
“I am surprised that no one has claimed it.” Pero admits, wondering why. It was a solid house, although the roof needs some new thatching by the looks of it.
“I, for one, will not question such a gift.” Briac shrugs happily and reaches out to touch his wife’s shoulder. “Welcome home, bonita.”
It warms him to hear them use his native tongue. Making him smile, even if it is slightly bittersweet since you are not also home where you belong. “I am remembering the big bed being large.” He tells Briac and Arwena. “My parents were lucky and there was a separate space for their bed and the loft was where I slept. I will sleep there again, give you privacy.”
“It has been many years since you were last here.” It pains Briac’s heart in a kind of melancholy sorrow that you are not here beside them, but he knows that this is the right place for them to be. “Thank you for sharing this with us.”
“You are mi familia.” Pero looks over at the boy with a grin. “We will see how much you are thanking me when we are breaking our backs getting things ready for the little one.”
“Our child has a home because of you,” Briac reminds Pero, his hand tight on Arwena’s shoulder. It is now his silent motion of thanks for all she has given him. “I will thank you every day for the rest of my life.”
“El niño deserves a safe place to grow.” Pero insists, wishing that he could assure that it would stay safe for his family, but he has given Briac the knowledge to protect them whatever may come.
“Pero.” Arwena says the name matter of factly as their horses slow to a walk at the bottom of the small hill that supports their cottage. Like a castle overlooking its kingdom, the orchard spreads out around them with welcoming arms. “Perito, while he is small. While his abuelo is still here to dote on him.”
Pero takes a shuddering breath and nods, tears wetting his eyes and he blows out roughly as he tries to compose himself. “The babe will have everything I can provide.” He promises, his voice thick with emotion.
“We will build our life here.” Arwena hums softly and looks between the men on either side of her before settling her eyes on Pero. “The wind here tingles. I think your lessons may improve.”
Pero scoffs slightly, a little frustrated with his lack of talent. The girl had picked up magic so easily and he still could not even make an object move.
“Do not fret.” She assures him, as optimistic as ever despite hardship. “We have come this far. We will continue forward.”
“I am trying.” It’s all he can do at this point, try. He watches at the house and trees grow larger and he hums. “It has been some time since someone harvested the fruits.”
“Then we will have a plentiful season.” Briac has no qualms with living the life of a farmer, never having had much love for the life of a cobbler’s son before this.
“I do not think it will be much work to get the fields ready. The ground is fertile and the trees established.” Pero looks around remembering running through the trees as a boy.
Arwena sighs, petting Binx with two fingers as she holds the reins of her horse. “Welcome home, padre,” she hums happily.
“I should be saying that to you, mi girasol.” Pero smiles at the younger woman, having chosen that nickname because of her beautiful light and brightness despite the horrors she has faced. “You have found where you belong.”
“Sí.” She cannot and does not deny it, feeling the contentment blossoming in her chest. “I believe so.”
******
“Concentrate.” Arwena huffs, placing her hands on her thickening waist before immediately stroking the noticeable bump under her dress. Pero rolls his eyes under his lids. “I am.” He grumbles. “Eres mandona.” You are bossy. The wind rustles through the trees, against the growing fruit that is starting to weigh down the branches of the orange trees that they are sitting under.
“Soy incómoda.” I am uncomfortable. She grumbles back, though she is much more lighthearted than he is. It is now six months since the day you disappeared through the Stones and Pero is no closer to performing his own feats of magic. “Lo siento.” I’m sorry. “Try again.”
“Sí.” Pero nods and closes his eyes again, the small branch in front of him is the target, all he needs to do is move it. He visualizes it, the small, three armed kindling being lifted into the air and moving from its spot on a nice sized rock. The wind stirs around him again and for a moment hope flares in his chest and his eyes open, only to find branch is undisturbed. “Fuck.”
“Do it again!” Arwena squeals excitedly, looking up into his eyes when he opens them. Her heart is pounding and skin tingling, the air feeling thick and charged around her. “You almost had it! I could feel it!”
He is doubtful, but he closes his eyes and tries again, concentrating harder this time. “Fuck!” He shouts, angry and frustrated.
Like a sudden gust, the air that whips between Pero and Arwena seems both to dance and to have a destination. It is more than a breeze. It cracks through the air with impatience and force, launching the small piece of kindling off the rock Pero had been trying to lift it from with such strength that it nearly breaks. “Pero!” Arwena nearly weeps at the sight of it, six months of hard work and the high emotions of pregnancy making her vulnerable to crying at nearly everything these days. “Mira!” Look!
His eyes fly open, almost afraid of seeing the stick on the stone and they widen when he doesn’t. “Where— where is it?”
“It is—” Once she would have scurried after the branch in excitement, but Arwena cannot move that fast now. “It is under that tree,” she gasps, pointing to one of the smaller orange trees close by in the grove. “You did it!”
He stares for a moment, almost suspicious that Arwena threw the branch but he would have heard her. After a moment, he starts to laugh. Doubling over as he nearly cries with relief and happiness. Of course his magic would be rooted through his temper.
"Padre, you have magic." Tears roll down Arwena's cheeks and she feels absolutely no reason to hold it in, in this moment. They have more than earned this shared outburst of emotion.
“Yes I do.” Relief so dense it nearly crushes him rushes over Pero and she stumbles over to where Arwena is sitting, falling to his knees and immediately pulling her in for a hug.
"This will work. We will learn to harness your emotions and you will be able to go through the Stones." She clings to him, as eager for him to be reunited with you as she will be bereft to see him go. In the almost year since they met, Arwena has come to rely upon Pero in so many ways. But this is beyond her needs in every way.
Pero pulls back, his hand – that battle scarred hand that has killed many men – caresses her stomach gently. A gesture he had come to love, especially when the little one is kicking. “I will not leave until the babe is here and you are recovered.” He promises, unable to imagine not telling you about the baby that will be his legacy.
"I cannot imagine you will ever be angry enough to use magic again once you are with her." Arwena bites her lip, hugging him harder. "Stay with us as long as you see fit, but once you are with her again...cherish every moment."
“We will think of you often.” Pero promises, smiling at the thought. “I will bring letters to her from you. The things you did not get to say when she went through.”
"Gracias, padre." That is all she can say about it now, as choked up as the thought makes her, and she nods into his shoulder. There is a chance that she may write several letters to you between now and the day Pero departs - more than a chance, really.
Turning his head, he kisses her hair and pulls away. “I need to practice more, yes? Make sure I can harness it better?”
"Yes." She nods, wiping the tears from her eyes and sniffling as she beams a smile at him. "We will have you practice as much as you can. Do you think you can bring the stick back to us?"
“I will try.” Pero nods, moving away from Arwena because he would never forgive himself if he hurt her or the child she carried with his determination to get back to you. “Let me see if I can do it without yelling.”
"Yes," she laughs, still so relieved that he was finally able to use some small amount of his own magic after months of trying. "That would perhaps be better."
Pero snorts and instead of closing his eyes this time, they focus on the branch. Willing it to move.
For one long, terrifying moment, nothing happens. And as Arwena fears that they may have been celebrating prematurely, the anger that swirls in Pero's belly whips the wind into obedience once more to send the stick back across the clearing toward where he and Arwena are sitting. "It really is your frustration," Arwena giggles, stifling a howl of honest laughter when it takes until he is red faced again to make the stick move.
“I have always been a crusty bastard.” Pero quips, shaking his head. “William would laugh his arse off at me.”
“She found it endearing.” Arwena rubs her round belly in soothing circles. “Teasing you made her laugh.”
“She has a sharp wit and even sharper tongue.” Pero admits, warmth flooding his body as he remembers the heated squabbles you would have and the inventive curses you used.
“And I think she never had more fun arguing with anyone but you.” She chuckles fondly. “She will be so thrilled to see you again.”
“Maybe.” Pero has wondered if you are happy in your own time. Maybe you look back on your time here as a nightmare but he has learned he can’t live without you. Understanding now why it seemed like his papá just seems to give up after mamá died.
“I do not doubt it for a moment.” Nothing could convince Arwena that you do not miss him. That your life is not lesser without your soulmate. It is impossible to think you are happy somewhere without him.
Pero looks over at Arwena and frowns. “You look tired. We should get you back to the house and let you rest.”
"I am always tired now." But despite rolling her eyes, she does not fight when he moves to help her up out of the grass. She takes his hands gratefully and allows herself to be hoisted up onto her feet with a groan of relief on her joints. "Perito will be an imposing man, if his size as a babe is any indication."
“I will bring the midwife to you myself if I have to drag her from her bed when your time comes.” Pero assures you. “The priest will be here too. For prayers of healthy delivery only.”
"Father Malcolm will be a most welcome sight." She wraps her arm around Pero's, leaning on him slightly as they begin the slow, long walk back to the farmhouse. "Briac thinks we should give Perito the second name of Malcolm. To honour him for everything he has done for us. For our family."
“That is something that would please the father very much.” Pero keeps his arm around her body and supports her as much as he can without lifting her. He hums. “The priest may cry when you tell him, I can invite him to dinner this week.”
Arwena laughs, shaking her head at how eager Pero is to witness Father Malcolm’s emotional reaction. “Tell him that there is much to celebrate, when you do,” she chuckles, eventually hissing under her breath when the babe moves in her belly. “He will want to know you have been successful.”
He will, the father had been surprisingly keen to witness some of the more healing aspects of Arwena's magic and he has already started to shift the messages given to people about the gifts that God bestows on some. "Aye." Pero's hand shifts to her stomach and he rubs the flailing feet under her bump. "Give your mamá some peace, bebita." He croons. "Soon you will be free to kick as you will."
“The midwife says it is a good sign,” she reminds him, though she is glad when Perito minds his abuelo and quiets. She does not relish being hastened about from the inside.
“It is good that the bebé is lively, but I know it causes you pain.” He continues to rub her stomach as they walk. Even though the child is not his, he is as protective as any papá or abuelo would be if it were his blood. Perhaps more so. “The cradle is repaired and Briac is cleaning it up.”
“We are an eager family, to be sure.” She admits, chuckling again at their collective enthusiasm. “The midwife says it will not be my time until closer to the harvest, but we are ready.”
"It is better to have everything waiting." Pero murmurs, knowing that the younger man is joyously awaiting to become a father, proud as a peacock when he gazes at his soulmate. It has been a pleasure watching them settle into the people they were destined to be. Briac has travelled for coin, becoming known to the local nobility as a level-headed warrior.
“Aye.” It will be worth all of the preparedness in the world once she has her babe in her arms. That much she can agree to readily.
They are doting on her; Pero is fully aware of it and he isn't upset. He never thought he would be in the position of an honorary abuelo, and he was enjoying it. Wanting to make sure the people he cares about most besides you and William are safe and happy.
******
It is a cold rain, the morning that Arwena wakes crying out in pain. Pero rides to collect the midwife and Father Malcolm as soon as he certain that there is nothing to fear but the idea that the babe may be born before he can return with the help Arwena will need. Briac returned for the season not two weeks before and thank goodness for that.
“Hurry.” Pero hustles the priest as he tosses the bags the midwife had shoved in his hands as he rushes around the horses. “She has been crying out in pain for nearly three hours.”
“Three hours would be very fast for the arrival of the bebé.” The midwife tuts, following behind the concerned abuelo with an amused smile. “She will be in pain, Sí. But all will be well.”
Pero shakes his head, exchanging a glance with Father Malcolm. “I do not see how women bear it.” He admits quietly. “She was talking normal when she was not screaming. It is strange how fast her moods shift.”
“Women are strange and magical creatures, Señor Tovar,” the midwife chuckles, not knowing just how correct she is. “Your daughter’s great pain will have great reward. In time.” It is against her better judgement that young Señora Tovar wishes to have so many men present for the birth of her child, but her place is only to deliver mother and child safely. Not to run her nose into the family’s business. Perhaps having no female relations has warped her mind to trusting men more readily. “Mark my words. All will be well.”
“It better be.” Pero knows that Briac will cease living if his soulmate is lost in childbirth. There would be nothing for him and he couldn’t leave the boy to grieve by himself. It would delay getting back to you.
“Mind my instruction and stay out of the way of your daughter’s movements, and all will be well.” The midwife climbs the two stone steps into the farmhouse with Father Malcolm and Pero trailing behind her. The sound of labor is unmistakable to her after so many years and she flies to the bed where Arwena is lying with great speed. “How are you faring, Señora?” She asks, taking in the sight of the mother-soon-to-be’s sweaty brow and pained face.
Pero holds the priest back by the arm, his own fears very telling on his face. "Pray for her, Father." He urges Malcolm. "The babe is large and it feels as if it is too soon."
“Arwena is strong.” Malcolm nods nevertheless, removing his hat when he crosses the threshold of the farmhouse he knows so well and nodding to Pero in seriousness. “But I will pray for them both, nonetheless. God has seen her through many horrors already, I am sure childbirth will not be what claims such worthy lives.”
He can only hope. In addition to the magic that she had been teaching him, healing has been added in a crash course. Just in case it comes to that. He refuses to let her or the child die in childbirth.
Briac sits hard by his soulmate’s side for hours. Immovable as he holds her hand through the worst of the labor and swears he feels his own bones buckling under the force of her grip, but he never wavers. Never complains. He speaks only words of love and encouragement and watches her carefully, letting Pero be the one to be ordered about by the midwife while Father Malcolm prays over the event and keeps boiled water and clean cloths at the ready.
“How is she doing?” Pero demands, frowning at the stubborn midwife and her tutting and mumbling under her breath about ‘men belong outside’. They were her family and they were staying.
“It will take more time.” The older woman pronounces, raising an eyebrow at the demands of the eager grandfather. “She progresses slowly, despite the pain. It may take far longer than any of you would prefer, I am afraid.”
Pero nods, wishing he had you here to help. He could have avoided bringing in the midwife until later. “Whatever she needs.”
It is sundown before the midwife calls for Arwena to force the babe out of her womb, and the men have been in various states of distraction and distress for hours. Arwena is steadfast, though, pushing with everything she has left in her until the warbling cry of the newborn rings out through the farmhouse. Warm water and cloths take the blood and all manner of other things from the boy as he wails, and the midwife chuckles indulgently as she bathes him. “Make you wife comfortable, Señor Tovar,” she instructs. “Your son is surely hungry.”
“Help me.” Briac gently lifts his wife, setting her on her feet to aid pushing the afterbirth out while Pero strips the soiled linens and makes the bed again as quickly as he can.
“Water?” Arwena is exhausted, but even as she asks for the drink she is reaching for her newborn child, nearly weeping at the beauty and desperation of his cries. “Perito, my love, there is nothing to fear in this world,” she croons as the midwife lays the baby in her arms. “There is nothing but love in this home. In our hearts.”
How it was a boy, or how she knew it was a boy, Pero will never know. Assuming it is a part of her powers, one’s that he does not possess. Rushing to grab a cup of cool, sweet water, Pero turns back to find mother and son bonding in a way that steals his breath and makes him think that it is the most magical thing he’s seen in all his years.
Briac is already beside them, soothing his wife’s brow and wondering at the sight of his newborn son, when he reaches for Pero to join them. “Come meet your grandson, padre,” he urges with a beaming smile. There are fears left to be had, of course, and the first few years of a babe’s life are perilous. But his family has grown by one today and he has never been so overfull of joy.
Startled out of his trance, Pero brings the cup over, almost creeping towards the trio as if he might break the spell of absolute bliss that has descended over them. “Chico hermoso.” Beautiful boy. He whispers softly, watching as his little face starts to scrub against his mother’s breast, searching for milk.
“He is a miracle,” Arwena sighs, the tears spilling from her eyes most decidedly filled with joy in this moment but also exhaustion. Laboring from long before sun up all the way until sundown had left her with a new definition for tired. But she would do all of it again for this exact moment: cradling Pero’s delicate head against her breast and watching him take his first precious moments on earth at her chest.
“Perfecto.” Pero murmurs, offering the drink while Father Malcolm offers a blessing to God for the child’s safe delivery.
The only thing conspicuously missing from this moment is your presence, and though the small family are all thinking it individually, they focus on little Pero with all of their might.
“We are truly blessed.” Briac’s voice is thick with emotion and his tears fall into Arwena’s shoulder. “Thank you. Thank you, amor.”
“It was you who gave him first to me.” Tipping her head back, Arwena is able to meet Briac’s eyes and leaves a soft kiss on his lips before nuzzling into his side with little Pero in her arms. “What I did today was bring him back to you.”
There is a crude joke in there, but Pero bites his lip and smothers his grin as he hands the cup to the tired new mother. “Do you want to eat?” He asks, knowing she hasn’t eaten anything since her pains started.
“You must keep your strength up.” The midwife insists, coming back to the bedside now that the bloodied sheets have been cleared away. “Aye, then.” The nod Arwena gives him is vague, but it comes with a smile. “I will eat whatever is at hand. It is quite a tiring thing to birth a child.”
Pero chuckles, imagining it is considering the screaming and pushing involved. “I put on some stew and there’s some bread.” Father Malcom announces. He had wanted to occupy himself when he wasn’t needed, to not crowd the poor thing. “I’ll get you some.”
“Gracias, padre.” The small touches of Spanish are much more natural these days, and Arwena sighs as Perito nuzzles and clings to her.
Pero sighs softly, kneeling down at the side of the bed and looks at the baby misty-eyed. “Are you sure you want to name him for me?” He asks, grinning slightly. “He is much too handsome to be my namesake.”
“Nothing in the world could make us change our mind.” She promises him. They had never even discussed another possibility. It was set from even before they knew to expect him. “He will be our future. The future you ensured we would have together.”
Pero shakes his head, beaming at the two younger adults who had just become parents. “You saved yourselves from a fate you did not want.” He reminds them, proud beyond belief at what they have accomplished. “I am honored.”
“You will love him as endlessly as we do until the day you leave our sides.” Though the midwife may understand differently, Arwena and Briac and Malcolm all exchange the same knowing smile. Pero will love his grandson fiercely and deeply even after he leaves through the Stones to return to you. Long, long after.
______
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zaraomarrogers · 1 year
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Always and Forever - 5
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem Reader
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, sexual content, 18+, minors do not interact
~*~
The moment Steve got into his hotel room his phone went off. He groaned seeing the caller ID.
“What is it Tony?” Steve wasn’t in a mood for Tony’s late night chitter chatter. Few rounds of beer with Bucky got him slightly drunk and he knew Tony would drain his remaining little energy with gossips.
“Who bit you Rogers? Why the sour mood?” Tony teased, earning another groan from Steve.
“What made you call me at...” Steve checked the time on his wrist watch, “11:15 pm? Did Pepper ignore you again?”
“Nope!!” Tony said popping the ‘p' and continued. “Actually, she called me this morning. She sounded so pissed because she was expecting me there, not you.”
“Fucking finally!!” Steve muttered.
“Language, Rogers!”
“Really Tony! You missed the event when you could have come, you had a free weekend”
“Calm down Rogers! You did a favour and I’d be grateful like all the other times you’d been there for me and this company.” Tony said in one breath and continued, “Its not about me attending the event, I called you for something else.”
“Judging by your tone, it’s another favour, isn’t it?” Steve laid down on bed, adjusting his head on the pillows.
“I swear I would have kissed you, Rogers, ofcourse if you were here but since you’re not I can send you some...” Tony turned the camera on on his phone, bring it near his lips and with horrible sound of muahh, he kissed the camera.
“... virtual kiss, if that works for you, bro.” Steve rolled his eyes at Tony’s cheekiness.
“What’s the favour, Tony?” he came straight to the point.
“So, I’ve heard the show was a great success. Y/n Carter was the highlight of the show not in only in terms of managing and arranging the whole event but as a show stopper for the designer.” Steve’s heart skipped a beat on Y/n’s mention. He sat up, “...her work was outstanding and different fashion outlets are approaching her.... but Pepper doesn’t wana  lose her...” Steve took a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “.... She’s one of the Pepper's most trusted employees and also her friend. The only problem is, some rivals are peeking their heads up after the success and the fact that Pepper has already lost her employees on big positions for obvious reasons and now she needs someone to make the company stable.” Tony was now contemplating his next words.
“What do you want me to do Tony?” Steve was curious to know where this conversation was heading.
“She asked for my help and I couldn’t have said no, Steve. I assured her that you’ll help her out with the company. You have experience, you’re smart and knows exactly what it takes to keep it firm on its feet....”
Whatever Tony had said  wasn’t hard to comprehend but Steve was stunned. If what Tony had just told him meant he could stay here and it would give him opportunity to be in Malcolm’s life. He wanted to thank the universe to give him this chance to be with his son.
He had planned to call Tony in the morning to ask for some days off of work but this new opportunity of working in the same place as Y/n would may be fix something between them. He was hopeful. He was happy.
“STEEEEVE?? Are you even listening?”
“I’d stay.” Steve said.
“Pardon.”
“I said I’m going to stay and help Pepper and the company.” Steve said.
“Are you sure? I mean you’re not angry or something? I could’ve asked....”
“Its fine Tony! Just send me all the details and I’d fix a meeting with Pepper first thing.” All of a sudden Steve  found a new purpose.
“Sure man! Thanks again. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Tony said gratefully.
“Don’t repeat yourself Tony, I was ignoring you the first time.” Steve smirked, disconnecting the line.
Steve was contented that his stay in Boston had been sorted out, only thing bothering him was his insignificant relationship with Peggy. He wanted to end things on phone, sure it’d be an asshole thing to do but did he care less.
No matter how much he thought would it be justified, he couldn’t do it. Sarah had raised him better. He smiled thinking about telling his Ma about little Malcolm. He’d call her first thing in the morning, he made a mental note. It had been just a day he had known about Malcolm’s existence and it brought him so much happiness. His little boy was hard copy of him but he got all his traits from his mama.
Steve chuckled looking at the  photos he had taken of his son during the day. A photo of him and Malcolm in the backyard taken by Bucky. Malcolm was clung onto his shoulders and laughing adorably. A video of them playing with a ball and Malcolm’s yelling I wuv you daddy loud and clear in it. He was already missing his little bean, his purpose of living now.
Steve wanted to thank Y/n. He wanted to tell her how grateful he was of her. She had let Malcolm known about him even when he wasn’t in their life. Steve would forever be in debt of her and she had raised their kid as a working single mother. He had never thought that there come a time when Y/n and him would act as strangers especially Y/n. He was unable to find any sort of emotion in her eyes. She was distant like she didn’t know him. Like they didn’t have anything she could remember. He remembered her throwing the coffee he brought for her in the bin. He knew he had hurt her in worst possible way but he didn’t know how to tell her that he was sorry. He was sorry because he didn’t make an effort to find her, to go after her. He was so embarrassed. He was so disgusted by himself that he thought not showing his face again would be the best thing he could  do for her. He thought he was punishing himself, he deserved this punishment but what he didn’t know was things would be so much different for Y/n and for him if he showed up. If he went after her.
He had fucked up!
 
~*~
 
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Incessant buzzing of Steve’s phone on the night stand stirred him in deep sleep. He  pressed the slide to answer the call and immediately a wide grin adorned his godly features.
 
“Daddy? Where you? Call many times, no pick.” Malcolm chirped in his sweet voice.
“Good Morning, buddy! Sorry I was asleep. I have just woken up.” Steve said through smile. He heard Mal talking to Y/n, he was asking her to open the video. Steve sat up a little in bed, leaned against the headrest. He finger combed his hair and turned the video on. Malcolm was sitting in Y/n’s lap in the kitchen. Steve felt his swollen with happiness at the sight of mama and baby. Y/n’s hand was wrapped Mal for support. The little boy was obviously excited and energetic.
“Aww daddy in bed.” Malcolm giggled. Steve couldn’t help but stare at Y/n. Her hair were in pony tail. She was wearing a white t-shirt and her face had no sign of makeup. Steve forgot to take a breath.
“When see you daddy? I go pawk with mama. Pwease come.”
“I’d love that, buddy. But we need to ask mama if I can come along.” Steve could see how Y/n was looking anywhere but at the camera. She was clearly uncomfortable.
“Mama, can daddy come, pwease?”
“Yes, he can come.” Y/n said lightly. She kissed the side of Malcolm’s head.
“We go to the park every Sunday. You must have passed it yesterday while coming over, its right across the street.” She told Steve still avoiding the eye contact.
“Yeah! I’d be there in thirty minutes? Is that okay?”
“How thiwty minutes mama?” Malcolm asked now bouncing on his mama’s lap with excitement.
“Thirty minutes means half an hour. Daddy will be here in half an hour.” Y/n explained.
“Too much time, daddy. Come soon.” Malcolm whined.
“Okay I’d try my best to come before thirty minutes Mal.”
“Mal-pal, daddy needs to get ready and drive to the park. It will take at least thirty minute, sweetheart. How about we go to park and play on slides and daddy will join us.” Y/n reasoned with him.
“Okay mama.” Malcolm pouted and Y/n kissed him on the head again.
“Daddy, you pway on monkey baw with me. You howd me up up and more up and I jump. Okay daddy?” Malcolm asked Steve excitedly.
“Sure buddy. We’ll play whatever you pick.”
“Yaayyyyy daaaddyyy wuv you.” Malcolm screamed in pure joy and kissed his mama’s face.
“I love you too Mal.” Steve whispered. He didn’t know if Malcolm had heard him but Y/n looked at him first time in this video call. Steve couldn’t read her expression because she was quick to look away.
“Daddy wuv me, mama.” Malcolm confirmed.
“Yes.” She whispered.
“Hey buddy, you want me to bring anything for you?” Steve asked not wanting to break the lovely moment between Y/n and Malcolm.
“What anything daddy?” He asked innocently.
“Like something to eat. Doughnuts, pie, cookies, anything you say....”
Malcolm turned to see Y/n, his way of asking permission. Y/n smiled at him lovingly and reminded him that he had already taken breakfast.
“I eaten bweakfast al’eady, daddy. I no want anything.”
“Ohh no! Then daddy will come with coffee for him and mama. Is that okay?.”
“Is okay mama? Daddy bwing coffee fow you.”
“I have already had my coffee. No need to bring anything. C'mon Mal-pal, we gotta go to park or we’ll be late.”
“Okay mama. Daddy come soon pwease.” Malcolm said and send a flying kiss to Steve with a bye bye and disconnected the call once Steve assured him that he’d be there in thirty minutes.
 
~*~
 
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“I’ve been meaning to speak with you.” Y/n initiated when Steve came to sit beside her on the bench, dusting off the mud from his shirt.
Malcolm was playing with other kids in the park. As promised, Steve had arrived at the park when Malcolm was on the slides. Once he saw his daddy, he ran to him and into his arms. Steve helped him climbing up the monkey bars. He told him a story of his childhood days when his parents use to take him to parks and different other places. They both almost had rolled on the mud and grass laughing and enjoying.
Y/n watched Malcolm having fun with Steve, something shift in her heart. She always wanted Malcolm to know his father and just be able to be with him. No matter how angry she was at Steve, she realised she’d do anything and everything to see her baby laugh and smile, just the way they were right now. It was her and Malcolm’s Sunday routine. They’d walk down the park after breakfast and spend an hour together, it was also unwinding for her.
 
“Go ahead, what is it you want to talk about?” Steve said softly, his tone still the same with her as it was four years ago. His eyes still held the same love and adoration for her.
“I need to make sure if you’re going to be in Malcolm’s life or it is just as coincidental as it seems.” Y/n’s eyes were on Malcolm, she could see him sliding down the slide with other kids.
“I want to stay. In fact, I’m staying and I’d make sure that I’d be in his life permanently.” He gently told her while trying to read her blank face.
“.... if I had known about him, I would be here from the beginning. Y/n/n, I know I’ve fucked up.....”
“That’s Y/n for you.” She harshly cut him off. “You’d be on Malcolm’s schedule if you are to stay here. I’ll send you his routine and then you can have your time with him.” Steve gulped hard, he didn’t want to show her how much he was hurting.
“Mal hasn’t started school, he goes to Alice’s day care. I don’t know if you remember, Alice runs a day care and I put Mal in there because I’m working full time, besides he’d be with Alice. I pick him up at around three in the afternoon and bring him to my work place. My boss's daughter and him are good friends and we have a small setup for both of them to play within the premises.” She gave him a heads up of Malcolm’s routine.
“If he’s spending rest of his time at your work then I get to meet him as well, daily.” A smile appeared on Steve’s face.
Y/n gave him a confused look.
“Tony asked me to help Pepper with the company.” He further explained, “I work at Stark Industries. I’m leading marketing department as their executive....” Y/n looked at him with wide eyes. She didn’t know what had possessed her heart was filled with so much happiness for him. Steve always wanted to be a part of Stark industries. It was his dream job and she felt so proud of him regardless of how things are between them right now.
“Congratulations!” She said in a small voice. “.... I mean... it’s  where you always wanted to be.” She cleared her throat at sudden awkwardness.
“Thank you Y/n. I wish things....”
“So you’re taking over our marketing and advertising, I didn’t know Pepper’s gonna take a decision.” She said the latter in a whisper but Steve heard it.
“Pepper called Tony to discuss this and Tony put me in, since I was already here for the event.” Steve explained.
“Mhmm...”
“By the way, it was a great event. You did an outstanding job Y/n/n... I mean Y/n... it was splendid. I’m so proud of you.”
They both looked at each other at the same time, holding each other’s gaze, like in a trance. While Steve’s gaze held pure love and affection, her’s had melancholy and heartache but one thing that was common between them was longing, longing for each other, for the life they’d dreamed of together.
Neither of them noticed when Malcolm tripped over and fell. Time they had spent together was reeling in front of their eyes. Y/n wanted nothing but to be in his arms again. Her safe place. Her home.
Steve was no different, he desperately needed her in his arms. He wanted to spend rest of his life holding her tightly and cherish her with every breath he had.  
Malcolm came to Y/n with a face as long as a fiddle, bringing his parents back to reality.
“Mama, I got a boo boo. You no see, why?” tears were about to spill from his eyes.
Y/n came to her senses and put him in her lap.
“I’m sorry Mal-pal. How’d you get this?” She inspected the tiny scraps on both his knees and smiled. Steve looked at Malcolm’s knees and heaved a sigh.
Malcolm didn’t answer her question, instead hid his face in her chest.
“Hey Buddy...” Steve started, he looked at Y/n for a go ahead signal and when she nodded at him, he continued. “.... Mama and I are sorry that we didn’t come to you. Because we know you’re a big boy now, and big boys don’t get upset with boo boo. Right Mama?”
“Yup! If we don’t get a boo boo, we won’t grow up Mal-pal. That’s how mama and daddy has become grown ups.”
Malcolm looked up at his mama first and then his daddy.
“I a big boy?” he asked curiously.
“Yes.” Steve and Y/n both said at the same time.
“.... and big boy gets to eat his favourite lunch.” Y/n suggested, “Dino nuggets and fries or veggie sandwich?”
Malcolm shook his head vigorously. “What daddy eat fow wunch, I eat same as daddy.”
“Daddy will have burger and fries. You want to have same lunch as daddy?” Steve said and earned a glare from Y/n.
“Yes! Mama buwge’ and fries, pwease.” Malcolm was excited.
“Mal-pal...”
“Pwease mama, pwease.”
“On one condition, you’re gonna have to eat your veggies in dinner. Promise?” Y/n hold out her hand.
“Pwomise mama.”
He jumped off her lap and onto Steve’s lap. “ ‘ets go, daddy.”
Steve roared with a laughter followed by Malcolm’s giggles. He stood up, Malcolm still clinging to him, “C'mon mama, we go with daddy.”  Y/n shook her head disapprovingly.
She followed them towards Steve’s car. It wasn’t how she had thought it would go. She couldn’t break her little boy's heart but she needed to make him understand that he’d spend his time with his daddy separately. It was going to stir many questions in Malcolm’s mind and she was willing to answer all his questions.
She had a slip up just minutes ago, she couldn’t let Steve hold this much power over her again. She didn’t want to end up hurting again. She knew Steve had said that he would stay here but how could she trust him when he promised her that he would always come to find her and he didn’t. She desperately wanted to protect her child from the same heartache and feeling of abandonment she had went through.
Should she limit Steve’s time with Malcolm?
How about only on weekends?
Or may be at her house, in her supervision....??
She couldn’t decide. She couldn’t think of anything. She needed to ask her dad or may be Alice would help her. Oh, they definitely will. But she knew what’s best for her child, she didn’t need anyone’s help.
In her conflicting thoughts she didn't realise Steve had hold her hands while crossing the road.
 
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emilynightshade89 · 2 years
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SEANCE
An Penny Dreadful x Octogoblin AU
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**PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY EDIT ANYWHERE YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION** 
Here’s my Octogoblin AU! Mostly set around the seance scene in the show Penny Dreadful. Sort of have an idea of where this may go and may add more to this but im just winging it as i go. Enjoy! :)
Later, while walking out in the drenching rain, Norman confronts Goblin on why he did that and is met with cruel remarks about his lack of taking action to tell the truth to the wife when she asked about her husband’s whereabouts. “You aided him in his deed Norman…” “No….It’s...it was none of my business-” “You encouraged it!” “NO!” “You are a coward for hiding!” “STOP IT!!!” “Norman..?”  Norman whips around and sees Octavius walking up behind him holding an umbrella. The doctor seems to have overheard Norman talking to himself. For a moment both men are lost for words but Norman is the first one to speak. “Dr. Octavius…?” Otto says nothing and simply holds the umbrella out over Norman who still looks up at him in bewilderment. “Come along with me Dr. Osborn. You’ll catch your death out here should you stay a moment longer in this rain.” He turns to leave but notices that Norman doesn’t budge. “I’ve left my luggage at Sir Malcolm’s…” Otto offers a kind smile. “Then I should have them fetched for you immediately before they’re thrown out in the mud, but for now you must come with me at once. My carriage is just there and London has no mercy for those caught out here in the cold streets.” Norman nods his thanks and walks with Otto towards the carriage and out of the miserable rain.
 Norman has arrived in London for a fresh start after the controversy of a lab accident in New York. He is invited by his host and old acquaintance Sir Malcom Murray, to an evening party he is attending where a seance is held. He meets Otto there and the two excitedly become reacquainted with each other. The two have worked briefly in the past but have since parted ways due to their different goals for advancing science. Prompted playfully by Otto, Norman gets nervous as he sits to join the seance and when the lights dim and the woman starts her summoning, he grabs hold of Otto’s hand. Upon the seance woman's demand, Goblin suddenly seizes control of Norman's body for the opportunity to play a cruel joke and call out Norman’s host Sir Malcolm on a misdeed Norman accidently witnessed the night he arrived to stay. Crudely remarking how their oh so esteemed gentlemen has been sneaking around with a member of his staff behind his wife's back. (Norman caught a glimpse of them while in the kitchen and was mortified.). He continues terrorizing his audience by slamming his hands hard enough to break the glass on the table crawling on top as he curses Malcolm in his face and finally; standing and bending himself backward in a horrid, impossible position, causing the young lady who sat next to him to scream in terror. Norman’s mouth opens as he screams back. Malcolm shouts at him to be thrown out of his presence in fury and demands him to never to show his face to him again. Norman collapses onto the table and comes to. Otto reaches his side to make sure he's alright, but Malcolm grabs Norman by his shirt and hauls him towards the door. Confused and frightened, Norman leaves in shame as the doors open violently by themselves. Frightening the other guests as a shocked Otto watches on with sympathy as he goes.
Norman wakes up the next morning in fresh clothes and momentarily forgets where he’s at until a soft knock at the door allows Octavius to peek in and humorously explains that Norman slept through breakfast and that Otto has saved him some bacon and eggs with toast and coffee. Norman thanks him and then tries to stand out of bed when a sudden soreness grips his chest and a headache seizes him. Otto places the plate down and comes over to Norman’s side. “I might've caught that cold you spoke of Dr. Octavius.” he jokes halfheartedly. Otto smiles and helps Norman back into bed with his food. "Get some rest my friend, your safe here." Otto leaves him for a bit to rest and comes back later that evening to check Norman’s vitals in case he should call a doctor. They make small talk about their work progresd and why Norman is in London, Otto reveals that he’s heard about the incident Norman was involved in and he suddenly becomes reserved. Otto apologizes and gently takes Norman’s face into his hands to look at his eyes. Norman’s heart does a backflip and his face flushes with warmth, but Otto simply goes on checking Norman’s sight and notes that he could potentially have a fever as well, making Norman feel confused as to why he reacted like that at his touch. Norman softly hears cackling in his ear and suddenly the headache painfully spikes back and he winces into himself. Otto asks what is wrong and lifts Norman’s head with his hands, revealing his eyes are rolled back into his head and Otto panics. Lightly tapping Norman’s burning cheeks and calling his name until he clearly blinks and looks at Otto. Norman suddenly smiles, an eerie, mischievous smile that sends a shiver down Otto’s spine. A smile Otto doesn’t recognize as Norman’s. “Hello Dr. Otto Octavius…I’ve heard so much about you.”
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hummingbird-of-light · 5 months
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Against All Odds
Part 819
McCoy
McCoy had moved his chair closer to Scotty at dinner, sensing his fiancé was still on edge from earlier in the day. Francine had been shocked at the box of albums when she had returned home.
“I would never have thought Malcolm to be so generous!” she had exclaimed.
“He had a prince to try and be better than,” Scotty had grumbled under his breath.
McCoy offered to clean up after dinner so that the Scotts could go through the albums together, but Scotty followed him to the kitchen.
“What are you doing darlin’?” McCoy asked.
“I really want to look through the albums,” Scotty began, “but today has been so tiring.” His face showed the weariness from having dealt with his unpleasant relatives. “I’ll look through them tomorrow.”
“Ok,” McCoy said gently. He began to get the sink filled.
They were quiet as Scotty got leftovers put away and McCoy began to wash dishes. When Scotty finished he came to the sink to help.
“What do you want to do when we're done?” McCoy asked.
Scotty shrugged absently. “Forget this stupid day.”
McCoy couldn’t say he was unhappy to have met more of Scotty's family, but he was certain he would never willingly see Malcolm and Iona again.
His face heated with anger as he thought of what Granddad had said about his oldest son. How could Malcolm have not gone to his brother’s funeral? How could a family member do that to the others? McCoy didn’t understand it at all.
He knew one thing for certain, if he ever had to see Malcolm again, he’d be hard pressed not to punch the man in the face.
“Want to go watch the stars for a bit?” McCoy asked as they put the last dishes away.
Scotty nodded. “I’ll get a blanket.”
“And I’ll run up and get a sweater,” McCoy smiled.
“I’ll keep ye warm,” Scotty chuckled.
A few minutes later the cool night air surrounded them as they stretched out side by side on their backs. McCoy had an arm tucked behind his head, and his other hand found Scotty’s.
He gave a small laugh as he turned his head to find his home. A tree growing from the neighbor’s blocked that section of the sky.
“Where do you think home will be in a few years?” he asked quietly.
“I dinnae ken,” Scotty said. “A ship I should hope.”
“But is a ship really a home? Should we have somewhere on a planet to call our own?” McCoy turned his head to look at Scotty.
“May depend on what ship we get assigned to and where it goes most often.”
“Would you want a home here?” McCoy asked.
“Do you want a home planetside?” Scotty asked, turning to look at him.
“I- I suppose yes.”
“Even if we were out there more often?” Scotty gestured at the sky.
McCoy was quiet for a moment.
“Yes,” he finally said. “Because we may make our ship quarters a home, but I still want a place we can come to that’s all ours. Just ours. Just you and me.”
“I want that too,” Scotty nodded.
They fell silent again, and McCoy moved closer to Scotty.
“Home’s wherever you are, leannan,” McCoy whispered. He rolled up onto his side so he could lean in and kiss Scotty better. He let out a surprised noise as Scotty's hands rose to pull him closer.
Long, soft kisses followed as they lay together under the stars in the back garden. When they finally got up to head in it was late and McCoy was beginning to shiver. They headed quietly up to their room, where Scotty set about undressing them and pushing McCoy under the bed covers to warm him up.
Part 820
Scotty
The next morning came far too fast and even though Scotty would have loved to just stay in bed with Leonard, he knew that they had more people to pay visits to.
He was very glad that Granddad had chosen to call some of the relatives who lived farther away. That way they only had to see his other uncle and aunt.
Robbie had offered to come along with them this time, however, Scotty had told him to stay at home. After all, someone had to look after Granddad and Jim. And he didn't want his little brother to have to see the family. After all, they usually tried their best to stay away from them.
Scotty sighed heavily as he parked the car close to a small house. It was right in the middle of the town.
"Listen, I... apologize in advance for whatever state my uncle or his home will be in. He... likes to collect stuff."
And not just stuff.
As the three boys made their way to the door, Scotty could already hear the sounds of barking and meowing. His heart was aching at the thought of the poor animals.
Scotty rang the bell and it took a while until the door finally opened to reveal a tall, corpulent man.
"Hey Uncle Ronan," Scotty greeted him with a wave of his hand.
"Oh, uhm... hello, Montgomery. I... see ye brought friends. When ye called I thought that ye'd come by alone. I wasn't prepared for visitors."
Sure, as if he ever was.
Scotty glanced at Leonard and Spock who were standing right behind him.
"Oh, aye, well... I thought that we might need some help. And... I also wanted ye to meet my fiancé Leonard."
"Hello, sir."
Leonard reached out his hand and Ronan took a moment to adjust his glasses. Then his eyes widened.
"Oh my- it's really ye! The prince!"
The man quickly took Leonard's hand and shook it.
"It's... nice to meet you. Uhm, this is my bodyguard Spock," the prince said, indicating at the Vulcan next to him.
More pleasantries were exchanged before Ronan asked the boys to come in.
As they made their way through the hallway, they were already greeted by a disgusting stench and by several dogs.
"Oh, I see you... have a lot of pets?" Leonard asked, looking down at the many animals that were trying to sniff at them.
"Aye, I have. All of them are strays. I took them in to live with me."
Scotty tried his best not to gag at the stench. It was quite obvious that these pets never got a bath. And that they were allowed to pee wherever they wanted.
"I'm glad that I can offer them a place to sleep at. And that way, I'm not alone."
Scotty and the others followed Ronan into the living room - or at least it appeared to be the living room.
Every room of the house almost looked the same. There were boxes everywhere. Books and tableware and tools lay on the floor, on the table, on the couch.
Everything was dirty.
"Would... would ye like a cup of tea?" Ronan asked, turning around from where he was picking up a cat from the windowsill.
Scotty quickly shook his head.
"Oh, nae, thank ye. We're... we're good. We just wanted to stop by to... see how ye are doing. And to ask if... if ye have any old pictures of dad or the rest of our family."
Instantly, Ronan's face darkened.
"Of course. It's all about John again. Why would anyone care about the good old Ronan?"
Scotty felt his chest tightening. His uncle had always been jealous of his father. And of the rest of their little family. He had always said that it had been their fault that Granddad had left him all to himself, even though it wasn't true.
"I... We do care about ye," he stammered.
Ronan just laughed humorlessly.
"Aye, of course ye do. Well then... take a look around. Maybe ye'll find something."
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supercantaloupe · 1 year
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tagged by @malcolm-f-tucker, ty! my fic writing output comes from a varied and bizarre set of source materials...we both will just have to deal with that i guess
Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway!
le finestre son questa - don giovanni - 1.3k - mar 2 23
Your lady had a difficult evening: you’re not sure what happened, exactly, but you helped her dress for a masquerade before she left, and she returned hours later looking more frustrated and tired than she had when she’d left.
2. (currently still untitled. sorry) - don giovanni - 3.7k - feb 28 23
He wakes to the sound of steady beeping and the vague humming of electronics and machinery. Then, bright fluorescent lights, which he squints against the moment he tries to crack his eyes open. Then, the pain.
3. e buonnotte a tutti - don giovanni - 13k - feb 11 23
“Saint Anthony’s? Really?”
“Yes, really. Punch it into the GPS already.” Giovanni sinks a little lower into the passenger seat and fumbles with his dress shirt buttons.
4. 25th annual solesian national spelling bee - fantasy high - 26k - last updated dec 25 22
“Adaine, I swear to the gods, open this door at once.” The elder Abernant sister pounds her fist on the locked door to the library.
5. deh vieni a consolar il pianto mio - don giovanni - 3k - oct 24 22
The dining room is a mess, with bits of food and shattered porcelain strewn about the floor, and the faint haze of smoke hanging in the air.
6. skeleton in the closet - oklahoma! - 9.4k - may 22 22
“Beth, stay on the path. And stop swingin’ the dinner pail like that.” Clara scolds her little sister, who, from a few paces ahead, turns to give her a scowl.
7. starlight - oklahoma! - 34k - last updated may 13 22
Crickets chirp in the cool night outside. Laurey sits on her bed, trying to enjoy a quiet night in for herself.
8. dance you all over the meadow - oklahoma! - 945 - may 7 22
“Slow down, you’ll trip.” Laurey’s grip on Curly’s arm tightens, and she feels his on her shoulder tense. “What are you in such a hurry fer?”
9. l'astuto cacciator - giulio cesare - 2k - feb 27 22
“Enough financials for now,” Cleopatra orders, waving a hand to her attendants. Papyrus records of tax and grain are swept clean from the table and swiftly replaced with platters of fresh dates, olives, and figs for the queen and her advisors. “Tell me of the Romans.”
10. awake in a lonely room - oklahoma! - 1k - oct 10 21
Old Eighty is hitched to the fence in the front yard. Her eyes are sleepy and bored. 
tagging: @tragedyposting @kingfisherkink @grasslandgirl @pearlandbrine @druid-for-hire @leporellian and @theresa-of-liechtenstein...regrettably i'm not sure who else among my mutuals writes fic at all so i may have to leave it there short of 10 ;;
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ojcobsessed · 2 years
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British actor Oliver Jackson-Cohen is unstoppable and at the top of his game, there’s no disputing that. Dare we say that 2022 has been one of his best years, professionally speaking, as the Londoner has become one of the main characters in Apple TV+’s highly anticipated psychological thriller Surface, starred in Amazon’s limited series Wilderness, and in a number of films including Mr. Malcolm’s List and Emily, released next year.
Considering himself to be somewhat selective, it seems that his judgement and instinct have led him in the right direction, as these elements have made him one of the most complete actors in the film industry today. For all these reasons and many more, Oliver Jackson-Cohen is a very interesting profile to be interviewed. 
Oliver, you’ve just become one of the main characters in Apple TV+’s highly anticipated psychological thriller, Surface. How was the casting and how did you get the news that you were in?
It was a pretty quick process really. I was in Yorkshire shooting another movie, Emily, and got sent the scripts. Loved them. They asked me to put down a scene on tape for them so did that at 1am one night after wrapping. And then two days later, the offer came through.
What does a project have to have for you to accept it? Did this last one have it?
I think the most important thing for any actor is to feel like they can bring something other than what’s just on the page. I think the interesting part of any character lies in the nuances and complexities of them and James on the page felt like there was such scope to explore those intricacies in a really interesting way.
Your character James Ellis plays an important role in Sophie’s life. What would you highlight about him?
He’s sitting on so many secrets. There’s so much that he can’t say and that he’s holding on to and I think that creates a really interesting tension because you start to look at the cost of that to a human being and how that plays out in his behaviour. He’s presenting as a dutiful, loving husband yet beneath it all its utter carnage.
Tell me three words you would use to define the thriller Surface.
Stressful. Page turning. Delicious.
Of all the series/films in which you have recently participated, could you tell us which one has given you the most or enriched you professionally and personally?
I think it’s a toss up between The Lost Daughter and The Haunting of Hill House. Both felt incredibly important for me at those particular times in my life. The Haunting of Hill House felt like such a liberating thing to do because I felt like for the first time in my career, I didn’t have to pretend to be anything other than what I was. I could just be myself and be just a vulnerable as I feel most of the time. The show is ultimately dealing with childhood trauma, and so I found the experience incredibly cathartic by being allowed to use all the pain that I feel in my life and placing it somewhere that felt safe. The character of Luke Crain will forever be someone that stays with me.
And then The Lost Daughter came at a time where the whole world was upside down from the pandemic and my dad had just passed away and I got invited along to be a part of this movie with Maggie G, and it was the most life affirming, inspiring, (drunken) love fest. Maggie is a phenomenal actor but is an even more phenomenal director and writer. She does it with such ease and confidence and autonomy. Her approach to directing and the shoot process was awe inspiring. When the movie was locked, she called me and I said, “Are you happy with it?” And she said “I made the movie that I wanted to make. People may love it or feel indifferent, but I made the movie I wanted to make.” It’s a testament to Maggie and her brilliance and I feel so honoured to have been a small part of that.
By the way Oliver, you are unstoppable! I hear you are currently filming the Amazon limited series Wilderness. Anything you can tell us?
[Laughs] It’s a six-part limited series for Amazon and it’ll be out next year. It’s a twisted psychological love story about a husband and wife who go on a road trip across America to save their marriage following his betrayal with another woman. Chaos ensues. We’re shooting all over Canada and the states at the moment and end up finishing out in the Grand Canyon in October.
Future professional projects?
Wilderness takes me up until October and then I have a movie called Emily with Emma Mackey that comes out in October in the UK and then the US early 2023. It’s premiering at Toronto this September, so I’ll be on the press run for that probably for the rest of the year. The movie is all about the life of Emily Bronte and what inspired her to write Wuthering Heights.
Now let’s talk about you. When did you realise that acting was your vocation? If you hadn’t been an actor, you would have been…
[Laughs] I have no idea what I’d do instead! I discovered acting when I was a kid and became obsessed with it. The idea that you can hide away or tell stories just sort of stuck. It seems to be the one thing that creatively I get really excited by.
How do you manage to combine so many characters and not end up saturated?
I think you have to take time out at times, and you have to be really honest with yourself about that. I know that if I’m not fully engaged in something, then it’s better that I don’t do it. I feel like I’m quite selective though and try to put all the work into something that I believe in from the start. Otherwise, you’re just burning yourself out for no reason.
Would you take a sabbatical year?
Years ago, I had a moment where I realised I was doing work that I didn’t necessarily feel proud of. I felt like I was following what I was being told to do. What I was expected to do, and it took me down a path where I woke up and felt so embarrassed by the work because I didn’t feel it was a reflection of me and what I wanted to be doing with my life. I waited and passed on most things until the The Haunting Of Hill House came along and that turned out to be the thing I’d been hoping and wanting to do for so long.
If you want to disconnect 100% from work, what do you do? Have you been able to do it this summer?
Nope but when I get a break, I plan to do this: Get drunk. Go to sleep. Repeat.
Could you tell us about any of your hobbies? Difficult question: are you more into films or series? Any recommendations?
I think both can be incredible but I’m not a huge TV watcher and especially when I’m filming. The list of shows I have written down to watch is astronomically long. In terms of shows I’ve watched, I loved I May Destroy You. Michaela Coel is a complete genius. Euphoria is chef’s kiss. I just saw Everything Everywhere All At Once at the movies and it was fucking amazing.
Lastly, why should Schön! readers watch Surface?
It’s a wild ride into someone’s life who wakes up and can’t trust anything around her. As an audience member you get to piece together what’s happened to her in her life, who is telling the truth and who’s not to be trusted. And just when you think you’ve got the lay of the land, the landscape shifts again. It takes you on a wild ride and there are twists and turns at every corner.
(photo credits)
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wellpresseddaisy · 1 year
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Use Any Means pt 7
Ron and Hermione seemed out of sorts, and perhaps a touch embarrassed, after their shared diatribe. They subsided into making a respectable meal off the tea tray, moving their chairs over to sit by Harry. Cadwaladr directed a side table over to them so they wouldn’t have to balance teacups and plates on their knees and waited until they were wrapped up in a quiet conversation before he spoke.
"I'm going to be terribly impertinent and impose on you. Would any of you be able to stay until Harry is awake again? I don't want him waking up in a strange place without anyone familiar here."
Molly looked troubled. "I suppose I could…well, Ron can stay or…I could ask Arthur to get Ginny off the train. Harry isn’t a good color right now.”
“You could ask Percy if he’ll come a little later, if that’s all right.” Ron suggested, patting Harry’s ankle as the sleeping boy twitched violently. “He might come if Dad isn’t here. Er, were we not supposed to be listening?” He added, catching sight of his mum’s face.
“No, Ron, it’s fine. Why Percy?” No one missed how tired Molly sounded.
“He knows what the Ministry’s likely to try with…all this happening.” Ron gestured vaguely with a slice of bread and butter. “S’practically running the Ministry these days, I reckon. Even if he is a prat.”
“Mum, Dad?” Hermione turned to look at them.
“If anyone thinks I’m passing up this opportunity then they’ve gone mad.” Teddy spoke decidedly.
“And I already had any emergency calls re-routed for the weekend.” Malcolm admitted. “I wasn’t entirely certain what might happen.”
“That’s you sorted then.” Ron murmured to Hermione. “Mum?”
“If you wouldn’t mind, Mr. Du, my son Percival would be a good addition to this discussion. He’s…I think he hears quite a bit given his position.”
“I haven’t been in England in quite some time, Mrs. Weasley. Any advice or insight into the current political climate would be helpful.” It wasn’t entirely true, but he had no issue stretching the truth for this. Not if it could help the boy now in his care.
“Then Ron and I will stay the night, at least. I'll send a note down to Percy.” She couldn’t quite keep the hope out of her voice.
“Thank you. I…” he trailed off, a new and alarming thought springing to life. “Is anyone prepared to dress for dinner? I rather have a feeling Mrs. Harris may expect it?”
“I can ask Percy to stop by and pick something up for me and for Ron.” Molly pulled parchment and a travel quill from her handbag. “He’ll have his own things.”
“If someone can pop us back for a few minutes, I can pack for…” Teddy looked over at Hermione. They seemed to have an entire conversation with just their eyebrows. “At least tonight and tomorrow. We can plan from there.”
“Yes. One of the footmen can take you, or Melkin, if you prefer.”
“It might be better if it isn’t someone helping Mrs. Harris open the house.” Malcolm suggested.
“I’ll ring and ask if Melkin can bring the carriage around.” He stood and sighed. “Does anyone see anything that resembles a bell pull or a button?”
---------------------------------
Cadwaladr lifted Harry gently from the window seat and settled the boy in his arms. Harry sighed in his sleep and curled closer, one hand fisting into his shirt, crumpling the fine linen. At least irons existed, he thought, and it would give his valet something to do. He shifted Harry slightly and realized that he’d instinctively settled the boy into a carry he’d last used when his youngest brother was eight and refused to fall asleep anywhere but the drawing room sofa.
He only hoped no one would say anything when Harry curled closer. Hermione and Ron trailed him out of the room, refusing to leave their friend even if it meant staying in the sick room with him. Ideally, all three of them would be their own rooms in the nursery wing, but the only rooms they had time to open were the sick room and the day nursery.
They’d have to call it the day room lest any teenager feelings were hurt. Perhaps he could start a new fashion for the ‘school room wing’. Merlin only knew they didn’t need a nursery. What would his own parents have done when there were only those not yet out of school at home? Most likely they’d have called it the nursery wing and told everyone who complained to lump it.
This wasn’t how he’d envisioned bringing the boy home, although he didn’t think anyone would be prepared for phantasms and exploding foreheads. This was, honestly, more emergency than he’d planned for. He thought he’d be dealing with, for the most part, grief and anger and a great deal of ignorance of their world. He could handle grief and anger – he’d dealt with all his younger siblings after…after. He knew how to be the strength another lacked.
Harry worried him. He didn’t blame Andromeda for not knowing or Hagrid for not noticing, but surely someone at Hogwarts ought to have noticed that things weren’t right.
Harry’s height and weight, his easy acceptance of the utterly bizarre (even for the magical world), and the tale his friends told spoke of deeper problems. He supposed his job now was to bring Harry through all of this. To give him structure and safety and care. He’d done it at not yet twenty-five for six others when he knew nothing about children and the raising thereof. Would one be that much more trouble?
He could practically hear young Mr. Weasley sniggering at him in his head. He had a sinking feeling that one Harry Potter would, without doubt, give him more trouble than the six he’d already raised. Sighing to himself, he carefully settled Harry on a bed in the sick room. Two other stood waiting, along with a comfortable sitting area by the fire. He looked about, hoping for Harry’s trunk, and noticed just how the maids, the sick nurse, and Mrs. Harris all looked.
“Has he any nightclothes?” They’d have to make do with switching spells and cleaning spells.
“None worth putting on the poor lamb…his grace.” One of the housemaids blurted out. She looked to be thirty seconds from tears.
“Hush, Nell.” Mrs. Harris scolded. “His Grace’s wardrobe is…lacking. I had Della run up to the attic and bring down some things for him.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Harris.” Cadwaladr spoke carefully. “We’ll just get him changed.”
He performed the switching spell automatically, as he had countless times for his own siblings, and tucked him firmly under the covers. Harry now wore a long white nightshirt. Ron and Hermione exchanged a pointed look.
“Not in love with magical fashions?” Cadw asked.
“Well, he won’t complain…” Ron hedged.
Which meant, Cadw knew, that they would hear all about it even if he didn’t.
“I see. Well, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. Will you be comfortable up here?”
“Oh yes, thank you.” Hermione answered. “We have our trunks and our Summer work to keep us busy.”
“I’ll ask someone to bring up a selection of books for you.” Cadw caught Ron’s dismayed expression. “And I believe we may have some bound volumes on Quidditch. Mrs. Harris had the forethought to open the, er, day room right across the hall. There are games, more books, and a gramophone-wireless combination if you need anything else to do. It tends to have whatever you need in the moment.”
“I’m sure we’ll be very comfortable.” Hermione repeated firmly.
Oh, he recognized that tone. Get gone, adults, we’d like to talk privately.
“I’ll be waiting on the…” Nell paused. “The school corridor this evening, Miss. If you need anything you just ring.”
“Thank you, Nell. We’ll do that.”
“And Nurse Hallett will be in and out to check on his grace.” Mrs. Harris further assured them.
Cadw almost swore he could hear Hermione’s teeth grinding. Ron shifted next to her.
“We’ll leave you to it. I’ll be up before and after we dine.” He took pity on the teenagers who clearly wanted all adults out of their hair and took everyone with him when he left.
As he closed the door, he heard Ron mutter ‘school corridor my eye…this is the bloody nursery sick room’.
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night-market-if · 2 years
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Paper Lanterns Part 12
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Paper Lanterns is a community based IF game here on Tumblr.  I need something to fuel the creative fires while I chip away at The Night Market demo, and I want to give you all a little something in the meantime.  Here’s how it will work.
I will post a snipped under the cut every few days.  At the end of the post will be three options.  Comment below or send me an ask if you would rather be anonymous, over which route you would like to see.  I will tally them up and write the majority option and post it in the following days. From there, we repeat the process until we, as a community, have crafted our story.
Please reblog and share this with others.  The more people we have participating, the more fun I think this can be for us.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 under the cut
Winner of last vote: There is no way you can do this alone. “Am I allowed to ask for help?”
There was very little doubt in your mind that ‘go free’ really meant, you would be leaving this eternal coil.  Women like the Baron didn’t let you walk from their grip with only a pat on the back and a simple departure of well wishes.  Death was the only way out of this contract.  You had known this before taking it.  You had assumed that you wouldn’t care.  A job was a job and this was a good one. Working for a Baron was not only commendable, but offered a certain amount of freedom within the Night Market.
What you hadn’t realized at the time, and what you maybe should be kicking yourself for now, was that this Baron was operating alone and seeking control of the Market for their own personal gain.  
Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. 
With the way she gripped your throat, however, you doubted that to hold any sort of truth.
“I’m up to the task,” you rasp, keeping your head perfectly still as she continues to stroke the long line of your neck.  “But if you are wishing for me to gain control of multiple doors, I may need a bit of help.  Is this contract exclusive to my services, or do I have permission to bring on a partner?”
The grin that spreads across her face is nearly feral.  “A partner? Now that is an interesting idea.  Why?”
“The gates are numerous and ever-changing. I simply think that -”
“No. Why would you wish to seal someone else's fate in such a way?” Her lavender eyes sparkle, as if the question truly delighted her.  With her hands falling to the side, she stares up at you, looking all the while like a small child, eager to hear the answer to a question that determined hours of play.
“I…” You hadn’t thought of it that way.  Bringing on another in this endeavor could be highly selfish. Though, without help, you wondered just how long you would be able to keep this up.  Already you had gone two days without sleep and you could feel your body beginning to crash.  Part of you wishes you had stayed within Malcolm’s home. His bed had always been soft.  
“Go on,” she encouraged, rocking on her feet.  “Don’t back out on the statement now. I’ll think you’re wishy washy. And I simply do not abide by wishy washyness,” she pouts.
Swallowing, you think about who you would even ask for help.  
Hazel is your best friend. The one person in all the Night Market you know would never betray you.  But she is the most tender hearted of everyone you know.  Getting her involved in the underbelly felt unfair, despite knowing that the woman had held her own time and time again.
Malcolm was another choice, though how you would convince him to help work against his own employer was beyond you.  Yet, he was the one with the skills and means to work the market.  He would also be able to give easy inside information if you could only give him enough incentive to do so.
Then there was Belladonna. The woman with her ear perked in every shadowed corner.  She was wily. She was full of venomous truths, and she could blackmail the most staunch member within society.  But you didn’t know her.  She could betray you in an instant and leave you rotting while she used you as a stepping stool for her own gain.
Closing your eyes, you shook your head. “Working for a Baron is a twist of fate,” you tell her, trying to keep your words pragmatic and vague.  “Though, everyone who enters the Night Market is looking for just that. A change. A way to circumvent destiny.”
Rolling her eyes, the Baron walks away, pushing open the double windows of the buttress and leaning lazily against the iron fence. The tarnished black grate was the only thing keeping her from tipping towards the night air.  “A poetic answer filled with void,” she sighs. “I do not care what you do. Just get me my keys.”
Behind you, the door opened on its own accord. You didn’t try to say anything more as you back through it.  When it shuts in your face with a snap, you blink, feeling the rapid beat of your heart and how sweat gathered at the nape of your neck.  You hadn’t realized the stench of your own fear until now.
Wiping a hand across your face, you begin to descend the spiraling staircase, taking your time to try and gain control of yourself.  Two days. You had two days to find the next key.  The question now became how were you going to do it, and if you needed to involve someone else in this.
Voting closed. Part 13 here
Involve Hazel. You know she won’t betray you.
Try to convince Malcolm. He works for the gatekeeper. Maybe he could be a double agent.
Proposition Belladonna. She had the political means and had secrets on nearly everyone in the Night Market. Just be careful not to trust her too thoroughly.
I am so insanely curious what you guys end up choosing here. :)
Please check out the Night Market demo linked below if you haven't already. Reblogs and feedback are also love!
Patreon || Ko-fi || Demo
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shivunin · 9 months
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Hello there :D 💛 For the Music Meme, please *rubs hands* Arianwen 3, 8 Maria 2, 4 Salshira 5, 12 Bonus: 7 for another OC of your choice ;u;
Yess thank you so much!! May you find your favorite snack on sale <3
(Music Meme)
Arianwen:
Boss battle song:
I like the idea of it having a roughness to it, but also the fast lyrics in the verses sound like quick footwork to me. The build to the choruses sounds like charging up an attack, and then the speed of the actual chorus sounds like her backflipping off of things to fight. No, I haven't spent any time at all picturing this.
Oooh and a nostalgic song for her:
Definitely a song that Adaia would sing to her as a little kid as a lullaby. Hearing it would take her back to those nights of feeling safe and loved and warm.
Maria:
I associate this one with her past because I think it's really who she was as an older sister: always sort of responsible for Bethany and Carver, though neither of them firmly fit the little brother described in this song:
A song lyric from this song that describes her:
"They shake me off and they ask why I bother/ The answer is simple: my father, his father/ I come from a long line of people who believe/ in the flowers that grow in the cracks in the street"
Salshira:
A song that makes her sad is
"I'm not sure how to live now that I don't want to die" sort of encapsulates her whole deal. And I think it would make her sad to think about all the time she spent assuming she'd die young instead of letting herself be alive.
Salshira doesn't get angry often! But I think this fits the bill:
And for a song my OC always sings along to, for Maria:
It's gotta be this one. I hc that Malcolm is from Antiva and grew up speaking Antivan around the house, so Maria developed a love of music in that language. This one is big, dramatic, and has these long, soaring sections that I can see her playing into.
Someone starts playing it on the street and more than one of her friends is already groaning in anticipation. Maria stops next to the busker and starts singing at top volume, complete with grand gestures and holding the high notes. Isabela is laughing. Anders has his head in his hands. The night has been saved, as far as she's concerned.
(Later, it makes her think of Fenris, but we don't have to get into that now)
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renee-writer · 2 years
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A Little Change in History Chapter 17
AO3
Frank lays on the ground, still as death, his eyes closed. Claire falls down beside him and does a quick check. She discovers two broken ribs. “Frank, can you hear me?” His eyes open a bit and he groans in pain. “Stay still Frank. You have so broken ribs and I believe your ankle is broken as well.” She looks to Jamie, “Mr. Fraser, can we get something to move Frank? We need to get him into the surgery.” He nods an with Alex and a few other men, they carefully lift Frank up and move him into the surgery.
Once he is there, she does a full exam on him. Her exam shows her initial fear was correct. “Frank, you do have several broken ribs and a broken ankle.” She makes him as comfortable as she can by wrapping his ankle and ribs tight and given him a drink of strong willow bark tea.
“Frank, what happened?” Jamie asks him.
“Mr. Fraser, I was grooming Donas. He saw Buttercup and ran me down to get to her, the blasted thing couldn’t be stopped. Oh, beg your pardon ma’am.” Claire waves it off.
“That beast has the devil in him sometimes. I am so sorry Frank. You will stay here with Claire, the healer, until you’re moved to your own croft. After, you will only work at the school as I can’t have you getting hurt. Sarah would be quite sore with me.”
Sarah, standing beside him, smiles under her chin. He looks to her and smiles. “Thank you Mr. Fraser.. Claire, may Sarah stay with me?”
“That is up to Mr. Fraser and Mrs. Murray. I would say yes.” There is a knock on the door and Claire goes to open it. Jenny enters.
“How is Frank?”
“He is better. He does have a few broken ribs and a broken ankle but, he will heal fine. I would like Sarah to stay the night here with him. I believe it will speed his healing, if that is alright with you and Mr. Fraser.”
“Claire, Mary has been missing you. Would you care to stay in the main house tonight?” Jenny replies.
“Thank you Mrs. Murray. That would be most welcome.” This way she would be closer to Jamie. She smiles at the thought and even laughs. Jenny is determined to get them to talk to her. Her chuckles increase and Jamie gives her a strange look.
Claire spends the next several hours making sure Frank is a pain free and comfortable as she can. Sarah is right by his side. Only a few months gone with child, it is alright for her to do so. It is decided that she can stay. Claire gives her instructions on what to watch for and then makes her way to the main house. She will have dinner with Mary and Mrs. Crook.
“Cccclaire, I have missed you. It is good to see you.” She smiles at Mary’s greeting, taken the younger lass in her arms.
“You too. Your stutter is better.”
“Yyyyes, it is Mrs. Crook and Mary. They help me a lot. I read every day during tea. It helps also..” They hug tight. She is so happy for her mate.
She takes some of her clothes to Mary’s room and then rejoined them. They eat and talk, catching up. After, Claire decides to take in some air before bed. She walks by the stables.
Suddenly, she is grabbed from behind. A hand is placed over her mouth. In a deep brogue, “What is a lovely Sassanch doing out walking in the dark?” He asks in her ear.
“Jamie.” her legs feel weak in relief. She turns, looking into those deep blue eyes, shiny in the moon light. Before she knows it, they are kissing.
Jenny comes out on the porch and sees them. A smile. Her plan has worked. First a bit of fun, “JAMES ALEXANDER MALCOLM MCKENZIE FRASER, what are you doing?” Claire turns pale and Jamie looks to his sister in shock.
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weerd1 · 2 months
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ENT Rewatch Starlog, 22 January, 2024: Episode 3.06 “Exile”
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Hoshi begins to hear voices and see an alien man in her quarters and around the ship as T’Pol continues to study the gravimetric disturbances caused by the Sphere they discovered. Talking to Malcolm, there does not seem to be an intruder on board, but finally Hoshi realizes she’s being contacted by a telepathic alien who wants her to come to his world. He offers to use his psychic powers to help them find the XIndi. T’Pol meanwhile has realized that the locations of the spatial anomalies are actually where the gravimetric disturbances of TWO Spheres intersect. 
Archer takes Enterprise first to the planet where Hoshi’s psychic contact, Tarquin, lives by himself in a pretty swanky castle. He reveals he is an exile from his people, but asks only for some company to help him while he investigates the location of the Xindi. Hoshi volunteers to stay while the NX-01 goes to investigate the possibility of another Sphere. 
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Tarquin uses his knowledge gleaned from Hoshi’s mind to serve her burgers and pizza, showing he has quite a bit of knowledge about her. That night, Hoshi wanders out to find him using a crystalline egg he says can magnify his powers. He allows her to try it, and indeed she sees images that may speak to the Xindi, but she cannot decipher them. He gives her an ancient book to relax. 
As Enterprise gets closer to where T’Pol has posited a second sphere, the anomalies get stronger and the ship is damaged. Archer and Trip coat a shuttlepod in the trellium d they have refined and are able to continue onward. They find the Sphere, but take some damage due to the cloaking field around it. They land to affect repairs. 
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Hoshi wanders out and finds graves outside, and Tarquin reveals he is centuries old, and periodically reaches out to have another companion. He asks Hoshi if she will stay with him, and he can provide her understanding like no other. She refuses and insists she will return to Enterprise on their return.  When Archer does come back, he tells Hoshi Tarquin has asked her to stay just for the rest of their mission which will be short due to the information the psychic has provided. She realizes it is Tarquin trying to deceiver her. 
Archer and Trip do make it back to Enterprise with T’Pol’s needed sensor data, and they have made their way to Tarquin’s world when they lose all power. On the planet Tarquin tells Hoshi he is responsible and will only allow the NX-01 to survive if she agrees to stay. She grabs is crystal egg and threatens to destroy it if he does not let her go, and he relents. He has not provided any information. 
T’Pol has used what Archer got from the second Sphere and done more calculations. She tells Archer there had to be a third, but even that wasn’t enough to account for issues in her calculations. She runs a simulation and reveals to Archer there must be at least fifty Spheres in the Delphic Expanse. Archer realizes the Spheres have been placed SO there will be a Delphic Expanse. 
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Tarquin comes to Hoshi once more, abashed but still lonely. He promises never to return again, but does give Hoshi the location of a Xindi colony where he claims parts of the world-destroying weapon are being built.
An episode that tries really hard to be something like a “Sub Rosa” or gothic Beauty-and-the-Beast type romance, but mostly falls flat. Tarquin is never much more than annoyingly creepy to feel like a threat, and there’s never any thought that maybe Hoshi would stay, or that he would or could successfully force her. Very meh on that front, which is a shame considering how seldom Hoshi gets a spotlight. At least she brought her heels to wear on the planet…
The Sphere B-Story is much more interesting with some great shots giving scale of the Sphere, and the reveal of just how formidable a race would have to be to build FIFTY moon-sized anomaly generators hits well. We’ll see soon whether or not Tarquin’s parting gift gets Enterprise any closer to their target, but they now know the sheer magnitude of what they are facing. 
Next Voyage: Archer tracks down those coordinates and finds a Xindi base about to make “The Shipment”!
(Images taken from the main website for @trekcore; I am happy to remove the images if asked.)
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zootplayz · 3 months
Text
When Prequels Collide - To Be a Founder
And we are back to the dual prequels. Last time the Disney Villains took over most of the post but this time the Rainbowcy will be at the forefront. Previously, Fred asked his girlfriend Kaitlyn to move in with him but she wasn't too sure about living with his evil nephew Damien. It wasn't long after that she learned about the results of their previous encounter.
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That's right, she is pregnant and Fred doesn't quite know what to make of this. He wasn't quite ready for this, they're kind of putting the cart before the horse here as far as he is concerned. But if it means his Kaitlyn is ready to move in with him now, he is delighted. Now Kaitlyn here is a renaissance sim and prides herself on knowing everything so it was only natural she took over the cooking in the house. Besides the boys were useless and she's a glutton - she knows food.
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Damien himself isn't too sure about this animal-loving sim moving in.
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But Kaitlyn is a loveable sim and quickly ingratiates herself with young Damien over her favorite movies, the far too numerous Simsaw.
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When Legacyfest came around Kaitlyn learned all about the rich history of families like the Beris, Serenity and her own Fred's Foxes and she knew just what to do.
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With a new family member soon to be added to his families roots Damien took on quite a protective role in the apartment. So when Julian Feng from next door started banging on his families door and started yelling at him about non-existent noise he was shocked!
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Who did this ninny think he was?!
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You, you, you .... furball-loving gnomehole shall be my first enemy! On guard!
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Damien may have lost this fight but Julian will think twice from here on out about knocking on his neighbors' door without due cause.
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At least he got his uncle and his fiancee a good night's rest before their big day.
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I don't know about you guys but I love these two. Hopefully, Aunt Kaitlyn doesn't pop during the ceremony.
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Even covered in bruises and absolutely seized by pimples Damien can always seem to smile around his Fox family.
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Quite honestly it's no surprise that his lifetime aspiration is to be a super parent, but whether he can ever cool that evil side of himself to achieve that goal remains to be seen.
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Kaitlyn managed to make it through her wedding without popping but not long after returning home the happy newlyweds had to head back out. This time to the hospital.
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Kaitlyn wasn't very happy at this point she was never a fan of hospitals not filled with animals.
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This isn't his family's vet clinic so Fred had to wait outside and all he could do was panic.
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When he learned the exciting news about being a father Fred fell that much harder for Kaitlyn.
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What exactly was this exciting news? Well twins, of course!
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After all, Fred is a Fox and we all know how plagued (blessed Zoot) they are with multiples. Without further ado let me introduce you to: Daisy (maybe)
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And Dahlia (maybe)
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Yeah, I have no idea. I'm just as confused as Damien.
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I suppose it doesn't really matter who is who, both of them need to learn.
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Although Damien is quite fond of his new family members he's not a stupid sim. He knows with not one but two new sims in the house the place is growing quite cramped for everyone. Despite the fact his aunt and uncle told him he could stay as long as he liked he knows it's time for him to go. So with the money, his Landgraabs grandparents left for any children born to Malcolm (money Malcolm almost completely depleted). Damien says goodbye to the Foxes in San Myshuno and sets out to start his own legacy. That doesn't mean he's happy about it though.
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Meanwhile, in the Pastel Rainbowcy Prequel, the race is now on wobbly legs to see which of the twins is to be the founder.
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Part 01 Villains Rainbowcy Read the full article
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rockawayhouse · 3 months
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Beautiful 1-Bedroom Sublet in Bed Stuy/Ocean Hill (Avail 3/1/24)
We are looking for a regular and/or long-term subletter for our chic Bed Stuy/Ocean Hill home. Beautifully furnished with a mix of mid-century and modern styles, this private 1-bedroom rental is available on a long-term, flexible basis, starting March 1, 2024 (flexible)
VIRTUAL TOUR - https://youtu.be/8f7vyGT6UHE
The Neighborhood:
Bed Stuy/Ocean Hill boasts great cafes, bars, restaurants, and dance clubs. We're located on Rockaway Ave between Somers and Hull Sts in eastern Bed Stuy. Right across the street from Phoenix Community Garden and Farmer’s Market - the biggest Community Garden in NYC, and in the midst of amazing businesses - Daily Press Cafe (live music and events), Bread & Butter, Pita Point, Beets Cafe, All Night Skate, Aux Karaoke Bar, Little Skips East, Nowadays, organic delis, huge grocery stores, just to name a few. Saratoga Park, Cuts & Slices, Lady Moomoo, Saraghina, Bed Stuy Fish Fry, and all the great business on Halsey/Malcolm X are a short distance away.
Transportation:
The C train at Rockaway Ave is just 1 block away, the J is 6 blocks away, and the L is 8 blocks away. LIRR East New York station is 10 blocks away. Citibike station is on the corner. Lower Manhattan is 20 minutes by train, JFK is 45 minutes by train, LaGuardia is 25 minutes by car. B60 is across the street taking you up to Williamsburg or down to Canarsie.
The Amenities:
Washer/Dryer in unit!
Dishwasher!
Great Wi-fi!
Abundant Closet Space!
The roomy and peaceful bedroom with western exposure has an incredibly comfortable Full/Queen pullout sleeper that can double as a couch for more space. 
The newly renovated bathroom features blue Spanish tiles and a brass rain shower. Split unit A/C in the living room. 
The mid-century living room has sunny eastern exposure with lots of plants.
The kitchen is huge (by NYC standards) and 2 people can comfortably cook up a storm.
Cute brick patio out front for sipping coffee, gardening, and people watching.
The apartment has a private and secure entrance. We will keep one bedroom door locked with our personal items for the duration of your stay.
To note:
We are part-time in NYC, and will stay in the unit upstairs for when we're in town. We are looking for a long term relationship with subletters who either are looking to rent for a multi-month period of time, or on-and-off over the course of a longer period of time. Ideally we could navigate a schedule that works for all parties between March and November, but we’re flexible for the right folks. Looking for a minimum 2-3 month commitment sometime starting March 1, 2024 (flexible move-in date) through late November.
This space would be perfect for one person or a couple. No pets, no large parties/events, and no smoking in the apartment.
We have plants in the living room that would love a bit of water, so plant-friendly renters are appreciated!
$2800/month (includes all utilities)
ABOUT THIS LISTER
We are a queer couple in our early 40s who have called Bed Stuy home for over 16 years. We have great relationships with our neighbors and so we’re looking for mature, quiet, and respectful folks who would keep those relationships thriving. We would stay in the upstairs unit occasionally, so we would use the same building stairwell, though the sublet unit is completely private. We have a quiet (a little nervous) rescue dog who loved our last tenants - she is slow to love, but her love is big.
RENTAL REQUIREMENTS
We require 1 month’s rent as security deposit. We also ask for 2 personal/professional references, a copy of government ID, and proof of income/funds, please gather those as you reach out. 
Please email us to set up a time to view the apartment. Because we travel quite a bit, we may not always be able to show the unit in person, but we can go through the virtual tour together and answer any questions you may have. If you are NYC based and we are in town, we are happy to show the unit in person.
We are flexible with rental dates especially for the right person, though we do give preference for longer stays.
Deposit/rent will be paid via Zelle or Venmo.
OTHER MISC
This apartment is about 7 steps up from the sidewalk. The apartment is outfitted with double-paned windows to minimize noise, but Rockaway Ave is a moderately trafficked street, so you may occasionally hear the sounds of NYC. And because we do have a small and sweet dog in the unit upstairs, those with severe dog allergies may not be a good fit.
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merciless-macdonwald · 9 months
Text
macbeth 2018 sequel
ACT I SCENE III. Without the castle
Enter three WITCHES, the FIRST in beggar’s robes.
SECOND WITCH And what shall be our business with him?
FIRST WITCH The art of augury shall be but half: The rest is left for him alone to find Through sleepless nights and creeping, idle thoughts That point him to an end of his own making.
THIRD WITCH I hear the trumpets sound, sister! Go, knock, And let him treat thee as his temper likes.
Enter MACDUFF and ROSS.
MACDUFF What business hast thou, knocking ‘pon these doors?
FIRST WITCH I come to see the king.
ROSS He has no time.
FIRST WITCH No time to give to those who need it most? I prithee, go and ask for him.
ROSS Old hag, I've said enough--what, canst not comprehend? Avaunt, thou crone, thou witch!
Enter LENNOX.
LENNOX What noise is here?
ROSS ‘Tis nothing of import.--Send her away.
FIRST WITCH Thou’lt rue the day thy “kindness” served thee ill! Come, king, young Malcolm! Curse thy bitter name!
Enter MALCOLM.
FIRST WITCH O, may the crown that sits upon thy head Be stolen, cast away by one whom thou Considerest a friend, a confidant, And may he in persuaded disbelief Have no faith whatsoever in thy words: Nor royal blood nor lambish, hindlike grace Will ever be enough to shelter thee.  Tyrannical Macbeth may now lie dead And lacks the heir would trace him in his line, But his co-captain bore a son who was Then prophesied to gain the golden round. There stands the one who, with his pow’r and grace, Will pluck his rightful crown from bloodied hands, And strike the brave Macduff down with one blow. Beware, young Malcolm, king to be no more!
The FIRST WITCH vanishes.
MALCOLM What, gone so quick, and left no trace?
LENNOX The witch Speaks nonsense. List to none of it, my lord.
ROSS She spoke of Banquo’s Fleance. We at court Have heard no more from him in these past years Since Banquo died, and then was known he ‘scaped, For at the banquet held by old Macbeth (You were in England at the time, my lord) One murderer, unknown by name, stepped forth And quietly began to give report: Macbeth, on hearing of the son’s escape, Grew loud with rage, aband’ning courtesy, And swift did he berate the killers’ fault.  ‘Twas then we knew that Fleance still lived. Yet To this day, none know where he resides.
MACDUFF Some say he lives in England, others France, And yet there’s few who claim he further stays, To keep free from broad-stretching tyranny.
MALCOLM Yet still their fateful words do shake me so!-- Good lords, we bid you leave. Within our mind Lays something that requires ponderance And careful thought. Macduff, go thence as well; We’ll call upon you later. Friends, farewell.
EARLS We take our leave of you, Your Majesty.
MACDUFF May all be well with you, my lord.
They exit.
MALCOLM I will not fall to folly such as this. My crown secured, my brother bound for shore-- What else have I to fear? ‘Tis none, that's all. Yet I am human still: though this is so, Some deep and secret corner of my mind Contorts that which I know to be of truth And of it brings a circumstance most foul. What if this boy, return’d, doth seek me out, And, armèd with such men as Scotland has, (For surely there lay many who, at once, Would lay their trowels down and raise up blades) Makes charge against me?--Malcolm, look on thee! Thy crown’s secure. Come Fortune as she will: Ending thy life, thy brother Donalbain Shall gain pow’r o’er the kingdom. Have no fear. There is more to beware than mentioned here. I’ll now to good Macduff.
Exit MALCOLM. 
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damindfuljedi · 1 year
Text
My Journey of Self - Nov 30, 2022
The Things I am Grateful For...
To wake up and enjoy another day of life
Being able to sleep in as my body needed the rest
To be able to talk with my well-person Jamie and have a conversation
The Highlights of the Day... Today was an interesting day. My kiddos stayed home from school, so I was able to sleep in. From how I was feeling last night my body appreciated the rest.
My boys are somewhat independent so they do need me for much unless they get hungry but even then they know how to fix a little something, even if it is junk food.
When I finally got up for the day I went ahead and made sure the boys were ok and took out the garbage and recycling, as the pickup is tomorrow.
After that was all done, I waited for my wellness session with Jamie. This was a very good talk, as I discussed with her the events of the last couple of weeks.
First, we talked about a dream I had. I was in Florida, where my oldest son Malcolm lives. Not sure why in the dream I was there but I was not alone. My mom, My brother Johnny (Junior), and my sister were there with me. Then on the other side were my ex and her husband. Now in the dream, the husband looked 7 feet tall. It was a strange sight. Well, my brother took a look at this guy and said, "Who is this N-word?!!"
Wow!!!
There was more to this dream but I think I will Rolodex it and discuss for another time.
The day after this dream my son called me and he was very upset. He told me that his family in Orlando put his Grandmother in a nursing home and this was the first time visiting her. I didn't understand much as my emotions were getting the best of me and I wanted to offer comfort to my son.
So I reached out to my wife to speak with my ex to get more details.
This is a good thing since I was diagnosed with ADHD-Inattentive I don't always process all the details in a conversation.
So later that night I spoke with Malcolm, with Maggie (my wife) at my side. He told us what was going on and we offered our sympathies and suggested that at some point get therapy. He was reluctant, but since he is known to have panic attacks and anxiety I hope to convince him of going that path.
Now what was interesting about all this was the dream I had the night before. It may have been foretelling me that at some point I will need to be there for my Malcolm if ever the time his Grandma passes on. But I am happy that when that time comes my family will be there in spirit.
That left me with a very good feeling...
Second, we started to discuss my crush, Tatiana. This girl I met her when I was in my early 20s and fell for her when I first saw her. Recently I had the courage to tell her my feelings for her and she expressed that she too had the same, when I was not in her life.
I consider her the love of my life!!!
At some point during our conversations and me being a flirt, I felt that was this the path I should pursue. So what I did was I reached out to my Dad for advice.
Now my Dad has not been a part of my life since I was 9 months old. He passed away when I was a baby, so I never got to know him.
I am angry with him for what happened. I am grateful to be his son but there will be always times I wished he was physically there.
So I reached out to him before going to sleep and asked for any advice or answers. I was hoping to see him in my dreams...
Well during the "Thanksgiving weekend or what I will refer to as "The Day of Mourning" I was looking over TikTok and found the following:
This guy was talking about how 50-year-old men or older have the best advice. Which makes sense as they have lived experiences and wisdom they can share. This person shared this advice that will stick with me for a long time...
The Love of Labor - Here he explains that this is the person you are with that work through the relationship. The highs and lows of your life together. You put in the "labor" to make it all work.
The Love of Healing - Here he explains that this is the person you are with when you are emotionally hurt or some sort of trauma you are dealing with. This is the person you lean on for that type of support.
The Love of Your Life - This is the person with who you just have "THAT" connection. The person that you met and you know everything is just right and everything just clicks.
He goes on to say if you found The Love of Your Life if you have one of the other two, it would not be worth it, and just keep the relationship you already have.
I thought about this and my Maggie already fits my Love of Labor and Love of Healing. So even though Tatiana will always be the love of my life, I need my Maggie as we have put in a lot of work in our relationship and we both are each other's emotional support.
So with that, I was happy with the answer I received.
Now the interesting part was this was the answer I had reached out to my Dad about and he definitely delivered I appreciate and love him much.
With that my session with Jamie came to a close. Our next session is on Dec 14th and we will be discussing our topics of Radical Acceptance and Radical Accountability which I learned is more Radical Responsibility.
My journey continues...
"There is no better than adversity. Every defeat, every heartbreak, every loss, contains its own seed, its own lesson on how to improve your performance the next time." – Malcolm X
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