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anarchywoofwoof · 16 days

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At least 178 people have been rescued from homes and vehicles in Harris County, Texas, an official said Saturday, with more rain expected over the weekend in the wake of strong storms and downpours that damaged homes and triggered evacuations.

No deaths or serious injuries have been reported, Harris County Judge Lina Hidalgo told CNN, adding more than 100 pets have also been rescued during a deluge that has left livestock stranded.

“It’s been really sad to see the impact of people’s livelihoods, homes, infrastructure as well as just the public infrastructure,” Hidalgo told CNN Saturday.

“We’re really asking folks to give it a minute before they go back home.”

Most of the weekend rain will fall over western and central Texas, but a chance of heavier rain returns for the greater Houston area on Sunday. The heaviest downpours in central Texas will occur upstream of the flooding in Houston – which is located in Harris , potentially exacerbating flooding in a region where 12 river gauges have reached major flood stage.

This week’s storms were just the latest in a series of brutal weather events that have pounded the state since early April. Dozens of tornadoes have hit from the Panhandle to the Gulf Coast, some areas of the state have been pounded with softball-sized hail and months of rain has fallen in East Texas in intense spurts, causing rivers to rise to levels not seen since the devastating floods of Hurricane Harvey in 2017.

The Storm Prediction Center issued a tornado watch for southwestern Texas – including San Angelo and Del Rio – until 10 p.m. local time. Severe thunderstorms capable of producing a few tornadoes, hail as large as grapefruit and damaging winds up to 70 mph are possible across the region this afternoon and evening, according to the center.

“The risk for a strong tornado may maximize during the late afternoon to early evening timeframe,” the center warned.

A severe thunderstorm watch is in effect from southeastern New Mexico into northwestern Texas until 10 p.m. local time. It includes Abilene and Midland in Texas, and Carlsbad, New Mexico.

The forecast comes as some communities north of Houston picked up nearly two months’ worth of rain Thursday. This rainfall plunged roadways underwater and forced rivers to overflow, leading to evacuations and water rescues.

Here’s what’s happened in South Texas Friday evening:

• San Jacinto County, 60 miles north of Houston: About 100-200 homes are affected by floodwaters and mandatory evacuations are in effect. The event is “85% worse than Hurricane Harvey,” Emmitt Eldridge, the county’s emergency management coordinator, told CNN. Eldridge said since they are downstream from Dallas along the Trinity River, “we are expecting to see a lot more water” because of additional rainfall. “Anything they deal with, we deal with,” he added. According to Eldridge, there have been at least 58 water rescues in the county so far. More rain is expected in the area next week.

• Walker County, about 70 miles northwest of Houston: Authorities are calling the floods historic there as well. “This has been a historic flood for Walker County. We have flooded more from this event than we did during Hurricane Harvey,” Sherri Pegoda, Walker County’s deputy emergency management coordinator, told CNN. According to Pegoda, two communities are underwater along the Trinity River and are only accessible via high-water vehicles. “Almost all roads in Walker County were completely submerged Monday night and into Tuesday,” Pegoda said. “We still have approximately 43 roads that are flooded with several major washouts and a couple of bridges that have been compromised.” At least 42 high-water rescues have been performed in the county since April 28, she added.

• Polk County, about 80 miles northeast of Houston: Roughly 700 homes have been flooded, according to emergency management officials, who warned additional rainfall could keep flood levels on the rise in the coming days. A total of 1,000 homes are in a mandatory evacuation zone in the county, Polk County Judge Sydney Murphy told CNN. A flood warning remains in effect Friday for the County. The judge said they were concerned and keeping an eye on what was happening north of the county with the flooding because it would impact the area. “Due to continuous rainfall across East Texas and rising levels in creeks and rivers, flood levels may increase. Please remain aware of changing flood levels along the Trinity River and ALL low-lying levels. If you wish to evacuate, please do so now!,” the emergency management office recently said in a Facebook post.

• Harris County, which also includes several northern Houston suburbs: Mandatory evacuations have been in place since Thursday for residents on the east side of the East Fork of the San Jacinto River. The river hit major flood stage on Thursday and is forecast to crest Saturday morning just a few feet shy of the record level during Harvey. “We want you out of this area… this is a life-threatening situation,” Hidalgo said at a newsconference. The level of water rise anticipated will impact elevated structures and may rise to reach rooftops or power lines, according to Hidalgo.

In the Harris County suburb of Crosby, a school bus driver spotted flooding over a road that had not yet been barricaded, stopped the bus and had the middle and high school students on board exit through the rear door, according to a statement from the school district. Another bus brought the students to school, where they were provided with breakfast and dry clothes, the statement added.

• Liberty County, about 45 miles northeast of Houston: The Coast Guard transported a 12-hour-old baby girl by helicopter from Cleveland, Texas, Friday. The girl was experiencing low oxygen levels at Texas Emergency Hospital, which does not have a neonatal intensive care unit, according to a news release from the Coast Guard. Due to flooding, she could not be transported by ambulance on the ground. The helicopter took the girl and her mother to Texas Children’s Hospital in Houston, where the baby was reported to be in stable condition, the release added.

Voluntary evacuations due to flooding were also in place for Montgomery County, just to the north of Harris County.

Disaster declarations are active for over a third of Texas counties after Gov. Greg Abbott expanded the storm-related declarations in response to the flooding, according to a news release. Additional counties could be added in the coming days, particularly with more storms in the forecast.

Parts of eastern Texas have received anywhere from three to seven times their typical rainfall over the last three to four weeks. The repeated bouts of heavy rainfall soaked soils, making many areas extremely prone to both flash and river flooding. Nearly a foot of rain fell in some spots from Thursday to Friday morning, delivering the final blow. Periods of rain will continue through Friday evening, and an additional 1 to 2 inches of rain are possible.

The worst flooding is confined to southeastern Texas where at least a dozen river gauges – including parts of the San Jacinto and Trinity rivers – are in major flood stage, the highest level, as of Friday morning. Several more sites are forecast to experience major flooding by the weekend and could meet or exceed record levels set during Harvey.

Hurricane Harvey created a widespread flooding disaster in Houston after dropping 30 to 40 inches of rain across the entire metro in just 48 hours. While this week’s ongoing flooding is notable, it’s much less widespread and occurring north of where Harvey’s worst rain fell.

Powerful storms rolled across the state

As torrential rain flooded eastern Texas, severe thunderstorms spun up tornadoes both north and south of the Abilene area in west Texas. There were eight reports of tornadoes Thursday, according to the Storm Prediction Center.

A “large and extremely dangerous” tornado impacted the towns of Hodges and Hawley – about 10 miles north of Abilene – Thursday evening.

Around 30 homes in Hawley were shredded by the tornado’s winds, with entire sections of some homes left completely exposed. Cars in the area also sustained damage from flying debris. There were “numerous” injuries, but no deaths as of Friday morning, Hawley Police Chief Brad Wilson told CNN.

At least one area school district is allowing students to study from home or take time to recover Friday, following Thursday evening’s damaging tornado.

“The Hawley community has been hit pretty hard and we have several families that have lost homes,” the Hawley Independent School District said in a Facebook post.

Rainfall totals from flooding in Texas and Louisiana this week showed nearly two feet of rain in five days, according to the National Weather Service. Totals ranged from 23.56 inches in Groveton, Texas, to 18.42 inches in Livingston, Texas.

#texas #flooding #climate change #climate crisis

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texas-electricity-ratings · 1 month

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2024 Texas Hurricane Season Predictions

Predictions Show a Very Active Hurricane Season

Texans well know about the damaging high winds and flash flooding from tropical storms. This year's TX hurricane predictions show a very active season. Learn why this season could be one of the toughest.

Apart from hot summers, one thing Texans know all too well about is hurricane season. Flooded streets, damaged roofs, and your Texas electricity is out. Towns hit hard in the past like Rockport, Port Arthur, Houston and others shudder when skies darken over the Gulf of Mexico. This season's hurricane predictions look like it could be another tough one.

Officially, the Atlantic hurricane season begins on June 1 and runs through the end of November. But due to the potential for global economic disruptions from these powerful storm systems, everyone wants to know how to prepare well in advance.

AccuWeather's March 27 forecast warns of an "explosive season" where forecasters may even run out of names.

Tropical Storm Risk (TSR), which makes forecasts in December, released their updated prediction on April 8.

Colorado State University researchers released their annual hurricane forecast on April 8, also.

NOAA's Climate Prediction Center (CPC) usually releases forecasts in late May.

Given this past year's record warm temperatures and a La Niña expected to emerge in the Pacific Ocean, these weather services now expect "a very active" hurricane season ahead.

Are Hurricane Predictions Accurate?

Bear in mind that storm predictions are based on the probability for the environment to spin up tropical storms. So, predicted storm numbers are not iron-clad. But while some year's predict too many; in the past 30 years, we're seeing predictions fall short. For example, the 2023 hurricane season forecast only 13 tropical storms. But due exceptional warm sea surface temperatures, there were 20 and it became the fourth most active season on record. Dire-sounding, true but of the 20 tropical storms that formed, only three made landfall in North America. Several stayed at sea and disipated as they wandered north.

However, there have been more extremely active hurricane seasons since 1995 than there has been since 1900. And two of the most active seasons occurred in 2005 with 28 storms and 2020 with 30 -- eleven of which made landfall in the US causing $37 billion in damage.

With all that in mind, the 23 tropical storms predicted this year is twice as many tropical storms that occur during a statistically "normal" season. And this makes the consensus for the potential number of storms compelling. As we'll see, conditions going into the 2024 season have more in common with 2020 than last year.

Why So Many Storms?

Tropical storm systems need three things to spin up:

LOTS of calm, warm water. Sea surface temperatures (SSTs) at least 80°F (26.5°C) to a depth of about 150 feet.

Dry, thirsty air. When a firm, dry trade wind blows across warm sea water (at about 11 mph), it has an easy time evaporating that water and taking on its heat. As this warm, humid air begins to move upwards and organize, it can quickly develop into a moist and unstable atmosphere that supports sustained shower and thunderstorm activity.

A nice, calm upper atmosphere. Tropical storms like winds that move horizontally and spiral up in nice, stacked layers (stack of pancakes). Vertical winds that cut or shear across that horizontal structure can tear it apart. Wind shearing happens everywhere but as long as it's about 23 mph from the ocean surface all the way up to around 60,000 feet, the tropical storm will be fine.

The ENSO (El Niño/Southern Oscillation) also plays a role. To be clear, El Niño, ENSO Neutral, and La Niña don’t prevent or cause hurricanes. Rather, it is an ocean-atmosphere system at the equator in the Pacific Ocean that can shift atmosphere's circulation (called the "Walker Circulation"). El Niños usually produce wind shears in the Atlantic that blow apart tropical storms or shift them to the middle of Atlantic (as we saw in 2023). ENSO Neutral and La Niñas, however, shift those wind-shear patterns far to the east, leaving a nice, calm upper atmosphere over the Atlantic where tropical storms develop.

Current Conditions

This past February saw record global temperatures, especially in the Atlantic Ocean. Currently, sea surface temperatures remain warm. In fact, there's a band of 80°F (26.5°C) water stretching all way from west Africa to the west coast of Cuba. All three hurricane predictions cite warmer than normal SSTs as a reason for more storms. And given NOAA's temperature predictions for the summer, it looks like much of the US Atlantic coast will stay like bathwater. That may sound like good news for beach goers (and sharks) but it's also perfect for building tropical storms.

There is a lot of dry air coming off the African west coast. Actually, too much right now. The Saharan Air Layer (SAL) lies about 5,000 and 20,000 feet up in the sky that transports plumes of dry, dust-laden air from west Africa to as far west as Texas. It usually forms in the late spring/early summer when hot dry winds blow across the Sahara desert and move over the Atlantic Ocean. As result the SAL can impede tropical storm formation:

Big dust plumes can warm the atmosphere but block sunlight from warming the ocean surface below. That reduces evaporation.

The dry air can create down drafts or sinking air. These can interfere with moist air rising and organizing into low pressure systems.

SAL winds are strong enough to carry dust. So, their winds can also produce vertical wind shears that blow out storm formation.

Although the SAL begins in the spring it don't blow all summer long. All the same, in both 2022 and 2023, the SAL helped keep a lid on storm formation for about 2 months. The pattern peaks in June and fades in early August. Each plume usually last 3 to 5 days. But once the SAL pattern ends, a warm ocean can spin up a storm in only a few days, if not hours.

All three hurricane predictions also cite the weakening El Niño. This shows that sea surface temperatures in the middle of the Pacific Ocean at the equator are getting cooler. NOAA predicts that they expect ENSO Neutral conditions between April and June. Already, cooler water temperatures as deep as 200 feet are being detected in the eastern Pacific. So change is coming.

While ENSO Neutral means there's no giant mass of warm or cold water in the Pacific affecting the atmosphere, it allows other atmospheric conditions to exert a bigger influence on hurricane seasons. From 2016 through 2020, summer time ENSO Neutral conditions produced some of the most active hurricane seasons on record. In fact, some of the biggest and deadliest storms to hit the US occurred during ENSO Neutral conditions: Hurricane Harvey (2017), Hurricanes Katrina and Rita (2005), and Tropical Storm Alison (2001).

NOAA predicts 70% to 80% chance for La Niña will emerge in August. Again, all three hurricane predictions suggest a La Niña can produce conditions that spawn the most tropical storms will most likely align. And in many ways, this suggests similarities to the 2020 season.

Hurricane season 2020 also began with above average sea surface temperatures in the Atlantic. Trade winds were weak across most of the Atlantic. ENSO Neutral was firmly in place and would slowly turn into La Niña by autumn; so there was little wind shear. Some tropical storms first formed at a liesurely pace from mid-May to June. But in mid-July, storm systems began forming in bursts. The most occured in September. At one point there were five named storms spinning in the Atlantic. All told, 2020 saw 30 tropical storms. Eleven struck the US; six of them were hurricanes.

So August and September could be dangerously busy.

Learn what's driving hurricane predictions this summer and what you need to know to stay safe.

Predictions for a Hurricane Hitting the US in 2024

Because hurricanes are creatures of heat, water, and wind they are reliably unpredictable. Once they spin up we can only guess where they probably will go. After all, these storm systems form in an area that stretches from the west coast of Africa all the way to the western shore of the Gulf of Mexico. That said, given the number and potential strength of the storms forecast and the things that sustain their formation, it's logical to anticipate a few coming ashore. But, predicting just how many with any accuracy is a dicey gamble.

While weather services do their best to tease details out of the hundred or so years of record keeping, most won't forecast the number and locations of landfalls.

NOAA predictions usually don't predict landfalls.

CSU also does not predict the number of landfalls but estimates probability. For example, this year, they estimate a 62% chance for a storm making landfall somewhere along the the entire (Atlantic) US coastline.

Accuweather forecast that the US will see 4-6 direct impacts.

TSR says 4.6 tropical storms or hurricanes will come ashore.

One other important thing to remember here is that electricity prices in Texas could surge if tropical storms shut down off-shore natural gas production in the Gulf of Mexico. Some natural gas platforms are located more than 100 miles from shore.

Tropical Storms - What Are the Biggest Dangers?

Tropical storms and hurricanes can unlease three dangerous events: storm surges, high winds, and flooding.

Coastal residents face the greatest danger from storm surges. Because of increasingly higher tides, storm surges are now more likely to cause flooding in any coastal city, including those in major bays and estuaries. Texas and other Gulf coast states have seen past storm surges as high a 10 to 24 feet deep that move inland for miles. So residents living on the coast will face a good chance of needing to evacuate at some point this summer.

Because water and heat fuel these storms, they lose power once they move inland. That doesn't mean they're any less dangerous. For those who live further inland, high winds, tornados, and flooding are all potential dangers. Weakened cyclones can turn into slow moving storm systems that dump enormous amounts of rain as they go. This makes flash flooding more likely and extremely dangerous in areas like central and west Texas.

How You Can Prepare for the 2024 Texas Hurricane Season

Texas Electricity Ratings is a Houston company. We've all been through the high winds, rain, and electricity outages from some very tough hurricanes. These powerful storms can affect any part of Texas so we want everyone to stay safe. Find out now what you can do to keep your family safe when the power goes out well before the first big storm comes.

Make a plan so your family knows for what to do when a dangerous storm comes your way.

Make a Hurricane Emergency Checklist to help you keep track of how to prepare and what supplies you'll need if you choose to shelter in place.

Build your hurricane disaster kit. Make sure every person and pet in your home has everything they need to get through a disaster.

Gather essential stuff for your Grab-N-Go bag. Each person (and pet) should have their own in case you need to leave your home and evacuate to stay safe.

Review and understand Texas evacuation routes ahead of time. Make arrangements well ahead of time where you’ll go to in the event of an evacuation order.

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tatooedlaura-blog · 2 years

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The Secret Vault of Mudlerness

The fourth series reads as follows:

Apple Balancing ... Potential ... The Newbies ... The Dessert ... Dinosaurs and Cannibalism ... Sassy Sprinklepants

To catch up: First series … Second series ... Third series

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

He wasn’t sure how he felt about giving the untested duo of Doggett and Harrison a set of keys to his office and complete access to his sacred space containing file cabinet, slide projector and perfectly proportioned to his ass desk chair. He wouldn’t be there to shut down arguments veering in wrong directions, he wouldn’t be there to explain, in exquisite detail, the evolution of Big Foot and Sasquatch, he wouldn’t be there to keep their sticky paws off his stuff.

Wow, his thoughts spiraled a lot faster than he expected, and shaking his head to clear the nonsense as he gathered up his coat and wallet, he thanked that formless god out there in the universe that no one but him would ever know what went through his mind the last three minutes … except for Scully ‘cause try as he might, he’d spill the beans about his mental relapse the moment he walked through the front door and she said the magical words of ‘hey there.’

He was so completely under her spell it would have been pathetic on anyone but him.

Handing over the keys, he told them not to burn shit down then headed out for his week of beach life, Scully, Will and seven Scully monikered rugrats in tow.

&&&&&&&&

“Kids, we have a mission.”

Sam and Matt looked at each other, excitement building given any kind of mission from Mulder usually turned out to be fairly messy, fairly fun, and fairly entertaining when he got in trouble with Aunt Dana once she found out about the mission, “are you going to get busted by Aunt Dana for the mission, Uncle Mudler?”

“One can only hope, Samuel.”

Speaking for everyone present and one un-present Betsy, who was in the bathroom, “we’re in.”

The mission turned out to be one of many that week. This one in particular was to simply get Aunt Dana to say ‘Good Lord and sweet baby Jesus’ five times. It took Jake two hours before he triumphantly raised his hands in victory even before Scully could let the last syllable fall from her lips, “Uncle Mudler! Mission accomplished!”

Scully got a large chocolate milkshake for her troubles.

The rest of the week was peppered with shouts of ‘Mission Accomplished’ or in Toby and Betsy’s case, “Mission Accompissed.”

Scully was amused for the most part because she never knew what was coming and why but it always made her smile once she found out.

“Mulder, where are you getting this stuff from?”

“The secret vault of Mudlerness.”

She simply smiled and took Betsy by the hand, “come on, small fry, let’s go see how big of a castle we can build before your cousin wakes up.”

Slapping his hands together, Mulder looked at the older kids, “and I think we should see who can slide farthest up the beach after wakeboarding in.”

Needless to say, the children creamed the adult amongst them, hands down, given Mulder was heavy enough to skid to a stop while the kids skimmed nearly to Scully every time.

&&&&&&&&

Then the rains came.

And Scully took over.

“We are going shopping. Everyone in the cars.”

“Where are we going?”

“Wal-mart. We need some games in this place so everybody gets one pick and then we come back here and play them until we need to eat.”

“Can we make pizzas?”

“Can we make cupcakes?”

“Can we make bananas?” Scully looked at Toby when he suggested that one and he shrugged, “I want a banana.”

Mulder ruffled his hair, “we’ll get you some bananas.”

Everyone found a game, Mulder found three, Scully found two and when she realized she picked out the same ones as Hannah, she high-fived her niece, “great minds, Hannah, great minds.”

“Totally, Aunt Dana.”

Groceries shopped for, bananas purchased, they headed home, the day and evening filled with several arguments, one rain-filled beach walk, two tremendous thunderstorms complete with near constant lightning and winds that created waves big enough to swallow all of them up and through Uncle Mudler whole without leaving a trace. Will slept through it all, the rest of them settled eventually, the ocean still churning, the sound carrying in the open windows, lulling even the most restless among them to dreamland.

Mulder nudged Scully and quietly rotated on the bed, swapping head for feet so he could stare down at the seven kids, spread eagle all over a bevy of air mattresses on the floor, sleeping bags strewn accordingly. Scully followed, relishing still in her newfound ability to lay on her stomach after an 11-month hiatus, “what are we doing?”

Her whisper tickled the small hairs by his ears and he grinned, fighting the urge to swat at a non-existent bug, “we are contemplating the family tree.”

“What are we contemplating about the family tree?”

“How we should probably add on to this place to accommodate said family tree. They can’t sleep on our bedroom floor forever.” Rolling to his side to nibble lightly on her ear, “I’d like you to myself every once in awhile.”

Matt’s voice rose from the floor, “dude, we’re trying to sleep here. If you want to make out, go outside, would you?”

Mulder flew away from her on instinct and rolled right off the side of the bed, landing beside Hannah, who only woke because her air mattress shifted, “Uncle Mudler?”

“Go back to sleep, Han, I just fell out of bed.” Quickly kissing her forehead and watching her eyes drop closed immediately, he hauled himself back onto the mattress, amusingly scolding out into the darkness and his oldest nephew’s general direction, “we are not making out.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

Mulder could hear the grin as he called back his own goodnight, then the squish-shift of body turning on air mattress. Meeting Scully’s dancing eyes, “he spends too much time with Dave.”

“We all spend too much time with Dave but none of us can figure out how to not spend too much time with Dave because we all love our Dave time.”

Moving his head close enough to kiss her cheek, “love you, wife.”

“Love you back, husband.”

&&&&&&&&&&

The following morning, Scully woke up to find everyone accounted for but Mulder. Shifting slowly, carefully, she grabbed the baby monitor, turned it on and ventured forth, using the sure step of someone who picked her way through body parts daily, silent thanking prayer to the man upstairs that these were all attached to living, breathing beings and not in a warehouse basement in Tucson like the last time. Wood planks smooth beneath her feet, she saw Mulder’s silhouette through the back door, sun just beginning to debate coming up, sky the lightest shade of night before giving into day. Traversing three rugs and a wayward pile of flipflops, she slid the screen open and settled herself in beside him, bumping his arm gently, “morning.”

He didn’t meet her rolling shoulder, or gravel-y, half-awake quiet word, instead waving the phone in his hand slightly, pointing it towards the water, knuckles white around black plastic, “when am I going to learn not to answer the phone.”

This did not bode well and reaching under his elbow, she wrapped fingers lightly around his wrist, “probably never. What happened? Was it Skinner?”

“Yeah, apparently Doggett and Harrison, am I allowed to call them Bud and Lou or would that be wrong at this stage of the game, I don’t know but regardless, Doggett and Harrison somehow got caught underground, dealt with some kind of venomous lizard/snake hybrid thing, came up temporarily blinded, and are now both in the hospital recovering.”

Scully snorted. She hadn’t meant to but snort she did, giggling into his shoulder for a moment before getting her breath back, “my God, you really did manage to find Mulder and Scully 2.0, didn’t you?”

“Skinner is going to quit, I swear. He’s going to talk to them and go through that final report and he’s just gonna …” grinning out towards the water, Mulder shook his head, “holy hell, Scully, he may just say ‘fuck it’, sweep his desk clean, flip off his J. Edgar Hoover picture and storm out, demanding a God-damned latte on his way out the door.”

Staring for half a second forward, she waggled her head back and forth a few times, then raised an eyebrow at her clarifying mental picture of descriptive storm-out, “I’d kind of like to see that actually.”

Before he could answer back that he’d pay $100 minimum to see it, the murmur of waking children and one pre-whimpering baby floated through the monitor sitting on the step beside her. Mulder, fully awake and ready to spend their last day at the beach being the unequivocal leader of ragtag misfit sandcastle builders and boogie boarders, stood to take care of diaper changing and tooth brushing, “want to start breakfast? We’ll be down to help in a few.”

Standing as well, “chocolate chip pancakes or strawberry waffles?”

“Yes.”

#msr #secret vault of mudlerness #mission accompissed #good Lord and sweet baby Jesus #the ragtag group of nieces and nephews strikes again #xfiles #x-files fanfic #My writing #life part 4 series

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stardancerluv · 3 years

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Stormy Weather

Part One

Summary: Stormy weather came to Gotham. Roman and reader have their hands full.

Warning: Roman deals with issue..mention of knife use, blood

Note: Collage with peach suit? Photos and putting together with new phone...woo! Also if you were awesome and read the teaser, its been edited a bit...thank you...enjoy!

This takes plac after Steps Forward

You balanced your phone on shoulder. “Come on pick up. Comon’ Roman.” You absently, said. You were annoyed to your bones. Not at him but at how your day was already shaping up.

“Baby,” His raspy voice purred into your ear. “Are you alright?”

You smiled. “I am.” You said through practically gritted teeth. You walked away from the distributor, as he laid out the bolts. “The fabric distributor was late, he just showed up. I am only now looking them over.” You sighed and blew some hair that had fallen into your eyes. “And I still have to get back and work on Edward’s new piece.”

“Fuck, Edward and come home to me.”

Your heart leapt, you were still wrapping your head around that. The idea of coming home to Roman.

“I want to, but I should get some work on it. He just increased what he was willing to pay for it. so I should get some work done on it.”

“Ah, well yeah let’s not rankle him. Want me to have the chef bring some left overs up for later?”

“That would be nice.”

Shuffling sounds filled your ear. “Zsaz, tell the chef he needs to bring Y/N’s portion upstairs tonight.”

A huge smile spread across face as you heard a however muffled Roman, telling Zsasz to make sure your dinner would be taken care of.

“Now?” You heard him in the distant say.

“Yeah. He’ll keep.”

You realized then that Roman had possibly answered your call in the middle of. You pressed your lips together.

Despite what him possibly entirely good reason for what he was doing you felt bad.

“Baby, come to club when you’re done mmmokay?”

“I will try.” Honesty and your time was always the best way to approach it.

You heard a flicker of a sigh. “If not then I’ll see you in the penthouse.”

“Yes, perfect.”

“Till then.” You knew then, he was defintely in the middle of things when you had called.

“Till then.”

*****

So many colorful bolts of fabric were laid before you. You ran your fingertips over them. You smiled at all the different feelS and textures.

These bolts would give you the opportunity to expand on feelings and even seasons of pieces. You were pleased. You just wished he had been on time.

******

Roman, hung up with you and tucked his phone away. Straightening his gloves once again. Turning, the wind was knocked out of him as Tony Rosa rammed him and he body bounced on the cold concrete. Blinking, he was looking up at the rafters, seeing stars twinkling in front of his eyes.

He barely, gathered himself when Tony’s beefy hand connected, which he mostly dodged. At the last minute some of his cheek took some of it. Tony groaned as his fist hit the concrete beside him.

Without thinking he rolled and reaching for he grasped one of his knives which he easily flicked open and jammed it into Tony’s upper arm by his shoulder. The man howled and crumbled on pain.

Getting up, Roman kicked him in the side. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

The man grumbled.

“Someone hold this fuck up, I want him to see me when I talk to him.” Zsasz came back then and a few came over to help.

He took his knife out of Tony’s arm and blood poured from the wound. “Look you had fucked up. I was going to talk to you maybe land a few punches, then let you get back to work. But we had to talk. But look at you now!” He snarled.

The man whimpered a please.

Roman continued. “We would not have fucking killed you.” Roman rocked his head from side to side.

The man sputtered, Roman could see fear blossoming in his eyes.

“Now fuck you!” He snarled. He slammed down his knife into his shoulder. Looking at Zsasz, he smirled. “Make him fuckiny suffer and then disappear.”

He turned on a heal, winded and still feeling out sorts he was relieved to have weak link gone from the men who worked for him.

“I fucked up.” Tony croaked behind him.

He stopped and barely turned. “I don’t care.” He cleared the cold warehouse and as he began to scream.

“Take me home.” He said as he slid into the back of the rolls.

******

Before heading back to your studio, you seriously debated just going home. Something itched, some pulled at you to do so. That mostly like was just because now calling the penthouse home was wonderful.

A whole new dynamic and even level of intimacy grew between you. But you really should get some work done, if you focused, you could get a lot done and head over. That is exactly what you would do.

You ordered your tea, which you seriously needed, after how early you had awoken and it had been all for not since the distributor had arrived so late. Your saving grace that morning, was Roman had to be up early for his first meeting too.

As you looked up at the sky, the heat of the morning was lessening yet there was the feel of a storm brewing. Maybe the first thunderstorm of the season. The clouds certainly were churning between being gray and big puffy white ones. Hopefully, you’d be back at your studio before any of it decided to happen.

You would grab on of those yummy croissants to nibble on while enjoying the tea, you mused as you walked into the coffee shop.

“Mrs. Sionis? Mrs. Sionis?”

You stood off to the side waiting. When you heard, Mrs. Sionis your ears pricked up. You looked over at the barista confused.

“Tea and croissant?”

You went over. “But I’m not Mrs. Sionis,” you looked around. “We’re only dating.”

“Oh! Well umm, sorry here anyway.” Said, the otherwise very bored looking barista.

“Alright.” You smiled, shaking your head.

Once outside, you actually giggled on the way back to the penthouse. Mrs. Roman Sionis, Y/N Sionis, you imagined and giggled again then bit into your croissant.

“Doesn’t sound bad.” You said aloud but once again you giggled. It reminded you of the days when you were little imagining fairy tale weddings and your prince charming.

Before sliding in the door to your studio, you leaned happily against.

Your fairytale prince you mused, you thought back to how Roman looked this morning, despite the incredibly early hour and after such a late night. He looked sharp in that peach suit. So sharp, so handsome as the two of you talked over breakfast and his little teasing kiss before you had left. It still gave you butterflies.

******

He shed, the peach jacket as he remembered what you said. You had been right. It was dirty now, his lips wrinkled in disgust.

Grabbing a wash cloth, he examined his cheek over the sink. Turning on the faucet, he began to wash it. His cheek was swollen.

After several curses, it was clean and shouldn’t scar but he was angry. No one had better try and mess with him tonight.

******

“Where the fuck is she?” He snarled when Zsasz came back to the table with a few of the guys and you were not with them.

Something irked him. You were not answering your phone.

“She wasn’t there or at least not answering the doorbell.” Zsasz, scratched the back of his head. “Or the pounding on the door.”

Roman shook his head. “Something is up.” He pressed his lips together. “You stay here in case there are any new developments. And I need you to leave fast.”

Getting up, he unbuttoned his suit jacket. The club was closed for the night and the customers were gone.

“You tell her, no damn small talk. She doesn’t need to chat with you or steal some cake from the kitchen. Tell her to come right upstairs, when she finally comes home.”

“Sure thing boss.”

*****

When you awoke, your croissant was squished under your cheek, instinctively you threw it away. Startled you realized your tea had spilt. What the hell happened, your head pounded. You barely remembered coming over to your easel to finish your snack.

Your eyes finally focused on a note.

We know where you work, you bitch of Sionis. Others may love you. We don’t. Watch yourself.

You were barely halfway through reading it when you began to shake and cry. You looked around. Nothing else looked disturbed. Snatching away note, you stuffed it into your pocket. Getting up, you sat back down holding your head.

Blinking, you looked over at the clock near you, it was after four in the morning. They had drugged you good. Reaching into your pocket, you found your phone gone. You couldn’t call Roman. Swallowing and breathing deeply you got up. It was better this time, turning to leave you stepped on something. You looked down and saw it was your phone. Oh, this was horrible.

Getting in a cab, you told them where to take you. When you went to pay, you found the note again but luckily in your other pocket you still had your wallet. You paid, and looking around you went over to the side entrance.

You winced as the thunder clapped loudly above. Glancing skyward, you watched the lightning, streak across sky.

The club had been closed for an hour. As you made your way to the elevator, you saw Zsasz asleep in a chair. Was Roman worried. Making your way over, you soon stepped into the elevator. Soon, walking in you stopped first to gather yourself, you were feeling woozy again but also to pull off your boots. Every sound would echo in the other wise silent penthouse. Looking down the hall toward the bedroom you two shared was eerily cold and appeared even more silent then the rest of the penthouse.

He had not gone to bed. Of course he wouldn’t. You had failed to show up to the club and you had not certainly not just gone up here straight away and fall asleep. You were surprised, you didn’t find him pacing.

As you walked by the one column, ghosts of you and him being cute and flirty popped in your head. The day had started so differently. Now, you knew people hated you and you had been drugged. Fear continued uncoil in your stomach.

Lightning brightened the entire sitting area, long with the rest of Gotham. Moments later as the thunder rumbled in, you shivered as it felt like the storm was directly above the building.

A small smile tugged on your lips, when you spotted him sitting near the huge picture window. Relief filled you. The lightning that came again illuminated but then brought him back into the darkness of the night.

“There you are you.” You kept your tone light, airy and damn as even as you could manage.

The rumble of thunder, made you wince in once again. It sounded like some giant trying to break in and steal you away from your prince.

He looked away from the window and his eyes moved till they met yours. The lightning, stretched its slender fingers across the sky once more. It allowed you to see the sharp features of your Roman, though now you saw the smudge a bruise on one cheek, the sight of it made your stomach lurch.

“Oh Roman.” You cried, had they gone after him too.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

The tears came again, you didn’t care. “Roman please,” His name, your voice was a cry it was barely coherent. You did what your entire being needed, begged you to do. Despite some resistance at first, which then turned into his arms wrapping around you, making you feel safe since you woke up against your easel. You met his eyes. “Someone drugged me.” Your voice shook, and you nestled into the crook of his shoulder. You sighed as you did, breathing him in deeply.

You felt though as his entire body went rigid, you could feel as he looked at the crumbled note.

“Those fucking animals.” He barked, and after a few breaths. His voice still angry though it had managed to take a softer edge in a way only he could pull off. “My poor baby, daddy is here and will take of you.” You felt a brief kiss on your head before he settled back. You knew you’d have to move soon. He would want to get moving, to see if he could follow any leads, talk to his allies, that were actually loyal.

You also knew that he actually, enjoyed taking care of you and right now you needed that more then a solution at that moment.

@darling-i-read-it @spn-obsessed-dean @vintagemichelle91 @xxxeatyourh3artoutxxx @ewanfuckingmcgregor @zodiyack @angel98624 @frenchgirlinlondon @nebulastarr @emyliabernstein @thepeachreads @itsknife2meetu @omghappilyuniquebouquetlove @nomnomnomnamja @poe-kadot26 @babydoll97 @hazel-nuss @vcat55 @feelthemadnessinside @queenofgotham800 @brookisbi @peachthatdrinkslemonade @johallzy @foreverhockeytrash @frostypenguinoz @starwarsslytherin @proffesionalclown @chogisss @shantellorraine @xxinvisiblexx @blondekel77 @saphic-susperia @drarrylov3r @i-cant-hear-you16 @deadlymistress24 @yesqueenofthelight @lemairepstuff @generallj

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eagehaunting · 3 years

Text

Mystery March 2021 day 4: Storm

Thank god Arthur let her borrow the van while he worked today. It made it so much easier to load up her small apartment and ship it to their new home- and in only three trips! Vivi bounces lightly in the drivers seat, glancing around and checking over the van one more time to be sure she got every box inside. Who knows how much stuff Arthur had to pack. He had his tools and his cork boards, along with his mattress and television... it would probably take them three-to-four trips at most. Knowing Arthur, they would probably be smushed together in the front seat because he’d pack the van to the brim!

There wasn’t a single box left, mind for a hanger or two. Perfect! Vivi starts the van and eases herself out of their new driveway, and hurriedly begins to drive down the road.

Thankfully Kingsmen’s mechanics wasn’t too far. Vivi leans over the wheel to take in the dark, heavy clouds that began to circle in the last hour. It shouldn’t take too long to get everything in order, but they should at least try to beat the rain.

Next thing she knew, she was pulling up behind the mechanics shop, and a familiar blond man props the back door open.

“Hey there, stranger!” Vivi calls as she shuffles out, quickly skipping to open the van’s back doors and keep them open. Arthurs footsteps trail up behind her, Vivi casts a small glance. “Are you excited?”

“A bit.” Arthur says, rubbing the exhaustion from his eyes. “Lance let me off early so I can prepare all my things, so it should be easy.”

“Nice!” Vivi beams, swiftly moving past him and making a beeline for the back door, whilst completely ignoring how Arthur looks up at the sky with a frown. “Wanna get the big stuff first?”

“Sure.”

Vivi was right, Arthur and her did wind up squished together in the front seat. Arthurs mattress, cork boards, and dresser were crammed in the back, and then surrounded by several boxes full of clothes, tools, and books. Although she did overestimate how much he actually had.

Arthur had managed to cram the entire van with everything he physically had. Stacked from floor the ceiling in haphazard and shaky towers besides and against the bed frame! Vivi would have to drive steadily to avoid a catastrophe.

In the front seat was Arthurs toolbox, a crate full of Galahad’s items, and then a small travel cage that he held in his own hand holding his hamster.

Arthur scoots over as much as he can, fidgeting a bit the more their thighs touch. Of course due to the lack of space, that led to a centimeter of room.

“Sorry about this, Vi,” he coughs into his hand, “I honestly thought that we wouldn’t be this cramped! I figured-“

Vivi blows a raspberry, scooting over herself so she was pressed against the door and offering up another centimeter. “No biggie! I’m glad we did it this way. Now we can get everything inside before we get hit with hail.”

“Hail? I thought it was just a thunderstorm!”

“I thought so too.” Vivi squeezes her hand into her pocket and whisks out her phone - which was partially damp from sweat. Wiping it off quickly, Vivi opens the weather app and lets Arthur snatch it.

He grimaces, “Yikes.”

“Yeah, better hope Lewis doesn’t get hit in the head when he comes home.”

“Or that the power goes out.” Arthur adds grimly. Vivi blows out another raspberry.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. Dont be such a sourpuss.”

“Wanna bet? It’ll be in character for whatever house we got.”

Vivi lifts an eyebrow, glancing over at him, “And whats that supposed to mean?”

Arthur’s smiling, and with a short shrug, “terrifying and haunted. Perfect atmosphere for a black out-”

“Nope!” Vivi barks back, wagging her finger intensely and shaking her head, “Lewis and I made absolute sure that there would be no ghosts in this house. I told you this.”

“Are you sure? You guys double checked? Triple checked?” Arthur probes, leaning forward and sticking his face into hers before retreating, making her laugh.

“Of course! I even had Mystery scope out the house, and there are no ghosts.”

“And if there is?”

Vivi shoots him a pointed, comedic look, “then you can add another.”

They both chuckle now, lightly elbowing one another. But soon after Arthur hums quietly and sinks back in his spot, a small smile crossing across his face as he watches the road ahead of them. He was convinced, perfect. Vivi gloated silently.

For a moment she’s tempted to turn the radio on to fill the silence, but Arthur suddenly turns to her inquisitively.

“Hey, so I never fully explored the house like you and Lewis did, mind filling me in on everything?”

A thrill of excitement rockets through Vivi and her head bounces in time with her, and she rapidly taps the steering wheel. “Okay so- it’s a fairly cheapish house for its size. It’s got a decent sized backyard, a nice sizable garage that can fit two cars and all of our equipment. And if it doesn’t, then we can just get a shed behind the garage to do so.” Vivi illustrates her point with her fingers, hoping that Arthur could follow along. “Lewis was actually talking about setting up a garden back there and- wait, never mind, back to the house. First and foremost, the most exciting aspect, there’s a basement!”

“Which is probably why you say it’s ‘cheap’?” Arthur says with a light snicker.

“Yeah! The guy didn’t charge us extra for the space- or the alcohol cellar! And I even went down there to check and everything seems up to code and in well order? I don’t know- we may have to worry about some floods, but we also live in the desert.”

“Right.”

“Next, we have like...” Vivi counts on her fingers three times before she holds up three fingers. “Three rooms! Two on the main level and one upstairs, but there’s also a closet on the main floor, along with a bathroom- and then one of the rooms actually has its own bathroom! Honestly I feel you should get that room, since you should have your own space and all that-“

Arthur opens his mouth to object, but Vivi doesn’t give him a chance.

“Lewis insisted that I got the upstairs bedroom and he can take the smallest- but! We haven’t decided on who gets what room just yet, so we got time to rock-paper-scissors it out. Moving on-“

Up ahead on the dirt road, a lonely-looking house with a tree along the side of it pops into view.

“There’s a nice sized kitchen, and while there isn’t a dining room, Lewis was thinking of converting some of the space into a dining room? I mean- he actually ordered a table online but it hasn’t shipped yet, so for now we’re going to be using my table. So get ready to be sitting on the floor for a while.”

Arthur rolls his eyes with a small laugh and nods, just as Vivi pulls into the driveway and into the backyard. Her eyes glaze for half a second as she parks the van.

“And... that’s it I think! There’s going to be a lot of setting up, but I think we can make it all work.”

“Yeah, besides we can always just eat in the livingroom amongst a sea of boxes while we figure things out. Although Lewis might flay us for suggesting that.”

Vivi chortles and nods, “Yeah! Yeah you aren’t wrong. But c’mon! Let’s get your stuff inside, I think Im hearing thunder.”

“Already?” Arthur glances up at the sky as Vivi throws open her door. She makes a mad dash for the back door, propping it open for them and waving to Mystery who was just out of sight. Arthur slinks out after her and carries Galahad inside.

“Okay so-“ Vivi doenst kick off her shoes but wipes them off on a mat that was placed at the back door, “since we haven’t chosen any rooms yet, Lewis and I agreed to put all of our stuff in the livingroom. Is that cool with you?”

“I - I mean it’s not like I have a choice, now do I?” Vivi winces and nods, and Arthur sighs. “Okay, we can leave the bigger stuff in the van for now then, but then let’s get the little stuff.”

“Good idea,” Vivi hooks his arm and pulls him further down the hall, passing two doors on either side of them and a stairway.

“Besides! If we have to camp out in the living-room then we can just pull out the bed in the couch and a couple of futons...”

Vivi freezes in the entrance of the living-room, jaw falling.

Arthur stops glancing around at the floorboards and then wallpaper and joins her, “Something wrong?”

Oh, something was wrong alright, and it hits them both like a bag of bricks the second they step in.

On the couch, Mystery was curled up and lightly chatting to a heavy set ghost. A ghost who drapes their arm across the couch snd sneers at them. ”Welcome to my humble abode.”

...

“What the fuck?”

Vivi flinched as she nearly feels Arthurs glare digging into her neck. Her own mouth went dry as it hits her all at once.

“I didn’t know- Arthur, I swear to god I thought there wasn’t a single ghost here. I promise.” Arthur’s face is still twisted in dismay, and she couldn’t really blame him. Twisting, Vivi points at Mystery and the dog jumps to attention.

“Back me up here! We both investigated this place top to bottom, he-“

”She.” the ghost hisses

”she- my bad- wasnt here, right?”

Mystery nods, folding his paws on the couch’s arm. “It’s true, Arthur, we had done the best we could and we honestly believed that there was no one else residing in this territory.” Mystery then casts a cursory glance back at the spirit, who nonchalantly drank from a a darkened glass, hardly sparing them a glance. “However, you know that experienced spirits can be excellent hiders. She merely concealed herself until now.”

Arthur let’s put a heavy breath that Vivi didn’t notice he was holding, before gently setting down Galahad’s cage. A stark contrast to the rapid twitch in his eyelid.

“Great! Fantastic. So why did she decide to hide?”

”Im right here.” The ghost suddenly says, casting a dirty look that both spoke profanity and exuded grace.

“Okay,” unaffected, Arthur side steps until he was able to face her himself, “then I’m sure you don’t mind telling us why you’ve been squatting here.”

Her eyes snap open, before her face twists with menace and she unfolds her crossed legs, slamming her glass down with a sharp clink. Arthur flinches as that sound shoots through him.

”’Squatting?’ My, those are some awfully bold words for someone who started trembling the second you entered my domain.” She rises, and despite how short she was compared to Arthur, she trapped him in her shadow. ”This is my home, and no bank can simply give away my property to measly little rats.”

“He-hey now, ma’am,” Vivi steps in front of Arthur, who’s hands immediately latch onto her shoulders, “look, this is a misunderstanding on our part. You see- my friend here is a medium, and he’s been ... tormented by a lot of spirits. So he agreed to live here under the assumption that there were no spirits. You can understand why he’s upset, right?”

”And you can understand that so am I, correct?”

Groaning lightly, Mystery hops off the couch and also stands between the two groups, lazily guarding as if nothing was really wrong.

“Of course! This is your home... can you describe to us how? So that way we can respect your boundaries and ensure no other issues occur?”

Arthurs fingers tightly grip Vivi’s shoulder, and she reaches up and pats them lightly.

Thankfully, the ghost seems pleased with the pseudoapology, and their shoulders relax by a fraction. ”I built this house, a ways away from my old home so that way I can have the luxury of peace and quiet. It was an expensive project, but one I carry pride in. I simply couldn’t leave my home to just anyone after I perished.”

Arthur creaks, “S-so you.. stick around?”

”Precisely. I ensure that no punks come in and try to take claim to what isnt theres.” That is marked by a pointed glare at Arthur, who shrinks back behind Vivi further. Regretting his choices up until now.

Blowing out the breath she was holding, Vivi forces a smile and claps lightly. “Alright! Then, what can we do to show you that we mean no harm? Or will we be thrown out regardless.”

With this, she chuckles, voice getting low and almost purring. ”You will have to prove yourself, and earn a place in my hearth. If you cannot do so by the end of the month, then I will make your lives a living hell until you run for the hills.”

”Great..”

“Awesome!” Vivi claps again to hide the bemoaned muttering. Taking a few steps forward- and incidentally dragging Arthur with her- she holds out her hand to the spirit.

“Well I hope you wish us luck. My name is Vivi, and this is Arthur.” Arthur coughs lightly and nods a greeting, but keeps his mouth shut.

The woman blinks calmly, taking in Vivi’s hand with a surprised consideration, before smiling herself and taking it in a firm handshake.

”The pleasure is mine. Address me as Lilith Primrose.”

“Oh~ that’s a lovely name you have there!” Vivi offers, smiling brightly.

”Thank you. I picked it myself.”

Vivi nods and release her hand, stepping back. “So.. I know we got off to a rough start, but do you mind if me and Arthur bring his stuff in? It’s going to rain soon and we still will be moving in-“

A crack of thunder fills the air, Arthur and her both flinch, before turning to Lilith for confirmation. Who then rolls her eyes and shoos them away.

”Like I said, you all have a month to come into my good grace. You better get started now.”

“Thank you.”

With that, Vivi grabs Arthurs wrist and pulls him down the hall, lightly scolding him and apologizing at the same time, but also letting him do the same back.

It’s what she deserves honestly...

Within fifteen minutes, the rain had started to sprinkle. They decided the best thing to do was to get the largest items - the mattress- inside first so it wouldn’t get drenched, but that left the cork boards and the bed frame, which they decided may be better to keep in the van to protect the integrity and quality. Then they spent the next half an hour racing back and forth with various boxes that they decided to dump into what was now Arthurs room- the bedroom closest to the back with a bathroom. Vivi opted to stack his boxes on the mattress while Arthur simply tossed them onto the floor- claiming he knew they weren’t going to break as easily.

After an hour, it was pouring in sheets. The last of the boxes were quickly abandoned in Arthurs room, and both of them tore into one of the boxes to fetch towels to dry themselves off.

“Jesus Christ..” Vivi huffs, ringing out her skirt into one of the incredibly damp towels. “I feel bad for Lewis, he still has to drive home in this.”

“Yeah, poor fuck.” Arthur groans lightly and rubs his eyes, “brace yourself, turning on the light,” Palming the wall until he hit the light switch, Arthur prays that they’ll be given just one thing.

Only... for the room to remain just as dark.

Vivi looks at him for a moment as he stares in befuddlement at the switch, which he rapidly flipped on and off. Muttering to himself, ”oh come on...”

“Hold up, maybe the wiring is funky?” Vivi offers, stepping over boxes and opening the bathroom door, and she quickly flips the switches herself.

Nothing.

“Fuck.”

The power was still out as the storm persisted. Even when Lewis came home drenched from the walk to the porch from his car.

Of course, that wasn’t going to stop them. They were plenty prepared with gas canisters, spare batteries, flashlights, candles, and a gas stove.

Lewis made a remark on how glad he was that they only seemed to have meats in the fridge, but those comments slowly dwindled as he got to work making spaghetti by candle light. Vivi set out to line the kitchen’s low table with several of her unscented candles. As much as she wanted to bust out her various sweet smelling ones, the boys asked her to refrain so not mess with their senses.

Which wasn’t an issue by any means! Vivi didn’t want to dig them out anyway...

“Alright, that should do it.” Lewis murmurs to himself as he turns off the burner and grabs his tongs, pulling out the cooked noodles and layering them on three separate plates. He calls over his shoulder, “Arthur, Vivi! Dinner is ready.”

A distant “Coming!” And then frantic footsteps fight against the sound of the rain outside, and Lewis covers the noodles in their sauce before turning and placing them on Vivi’s low table. Vivi comes in with flat pillows and places them in their respective spots before kneeling and taking her spot.

“Thank you Lewis~ this smells really good.” She says, wafting in the garlic and onion at her face with a dramatic sniff. Just in time for Arthur to trail in with Mystery at his side.

Mystery scans the plates, before frowning at Lewis.

Lewis raises an eyebrow and smirks, “What? You can’t eat this, remember.”

“You and I know very well that I can eat more than all of you combined.” The dog shoots back, plopping down beside Vivi who scratches his ear.

“Well it’s not good for you.” Lewis points out, before reaching beside him and pulling out a plate of Mystery’s gourmet doggy dinner. “Now are you going to keep complaining or eat?”

“Oooh~” Vivi grins and pats mystery’s head, “Youre this close to missing out on greatness, boy! Better shut your trap.”

Mystery did indeed shut his trap, quickly scuttling over to Lewis’s side to retrieve his bowl- licking his lips to avoid showing how much he was salivating at the smell.

Arthur takes his seat on his bottom than his knees. Rolling his fork through the noodles slowly, but not saying anything, even as Vivi and Lewis chat as he grabs drinks.

It’s only when Vivi shoves a heaping of spaghetti into her mouth and moans in delight does he realize that they need something else. Lewis froze in his tracts, wincing the smallest bit as Vivi chews. She’s been hungry all day, so it makes sense that she would rather dig in- Mystery too.

Poor guys misophonia has got to be going crazy.

“Hey, do you guys want to watch howls moving castle? Or - uh.. spirited away?” Lewis and Vivi both shoot him inquisitive looks, although Lewis relaxes the smallest bit at the distraction. Arthur adds on, tapping his earlobe, “I can also grab your ear plugs, Lew. So that way the ... sounds don’t bother you too much.”

Lewis’s lips tighten. Oh shit, he probably didn’t want to embarrass Vivi-

A loud gasp and smack grabs both of their attention. Vivi stopped chewing, a hand over her mouth as she realized. Swallowing everything down in one gulp, Vivi gestures frantically in apologize. “Shit- Lewis I’m sorry. I can grab your ear plugs if you want? It totally slipped my mind.”

He lifts his hand, smiling sweetly. “It’s okay, I’ll go grab them. But yes, Arthur, I certainly wouldn’t mind a movie.”

Still flushed, Vivi nods too, “the rain will be a nice backdrop to a beautiful Ghibli movie. Do you need the disk?”

“No,” Arthur pushes himself up, “I got it downloaded on my computer. I’ll go grab it.”

He and Lewis both leave the kitchen, and he turns to go to his room, a small flashlight in hand to light the way.

It was already unpacked, plugged into a battery pack and charging for the past few hours. Arthur whisks it up and ambles back to the kitchen, where Lewis and Vivi were talking again. Good! Lewis is situated, now time to pull up the movie. Holding it one arm, Arthur input his password, searches through his hard drive...

But before he steps back into the kitchen, a soft flow catches his eye.

Lilith is sitting on the couch still, possibly had been for a while now, but either no one noticed or no one choose to bother her in the dark.

He watches her for a few moments, filling with guilt and momentary fear over earlier...

Then he sighs, resigning himself, and he steps into the kitchen and sets the computer down. Instead of getting back in his spot to turn on the movie, Arthur shuffles to the cabinet and fetches another plate.

“What are you up to, Artie?”

“Going to feed some raccoons?” Vivi jokes, even as Lewis makes a disgruntled noise at the thought.

“No, just give me one moment, okay?”

Arthur can feel them watching him, but he sucks in his breath and layers noodles and sauce onto a plate, before fetching a fork.

And then leaving the kitchen again, this time making a beeline for the couch.

Lilith hears him coming and gives him a cursory glance. Her eyes widen as she takes note of the plate as it’s set down beside her.

Clearing his throat, Arthur grips his hands together anxiously and forces himself to keep eye contact. “A-about earlier.. I’m sorry that I snapped on you. It... I hope we can get along.”

Lilith doesn’t say anything, looking from him to the plate.

She stands, nods, and turns on her heel to go to the basement door, vanishing before she even touched it.

...

Well fuck you too then. Arthur scowls lightly, huffing the smallest bit after she was out of sight. There’s nothing he can do now, and it’s up to her to decide if she wants to accept his apology.

Whatever, just go and eat dinner.

He takes his spot. While he was offering the meal, Vivi had found the movie and paused it before it began to play, and Lewis had already plugged his ears. He sends Arthur a thumbs up and a thankful smile. Arthur nods in return and grabs his fork to eat.

The movie started, and the atmosphere was both warm and comfortable, especially with the four of them enraptured in the unfolding plot. Spouting small ideas and pointing out little details, along with memories and theories.

The conversation only came to a halt when someone else clears their throat.

Vivi pauses the movie in an instant, and all four of them look up to see Lilith standing before them. Her face contorted in worry as she grips... a wine bottle. Lilith shrinks a bit at the sudden attention, but she clears her throat a second time and holds the bottle out a small bit.

“C... congratulations you four, you passed my test. I am looking forward to living with you all, and to celebrate, I wanted you to have some of my aged wine.” She stammers a bit, shifting anxiously from side to side, before setting the bottle down with a hefty clank. After doing so, she turns to leave.

Vivi, however, jumps up and latches onto her sleeve, pulling her back the smallest bit and earning a wide eyed stare.

Vivi beams back at her, “We’re watching some movies, would you like to join us?”

Lilith blinks rapidly, glancing between all of them, and being met with gentle smiles and affirmations.

”I... of course, I’d love to. Let me grab my plate! Oh- and some glasses. What are we going to be watching?”

Lilith shuffles beside Lewis, and the five of them all continue watching, sipping some tasty wine and eating their food peacefully.

They didn’t even notice that the rain died down and the power was back on until they were heading to bed

#mysterymarch2021 #mystery skulls animated #mystery skulls headcannons #vivi yukino #lewis pepper #Arthur kingsmen #sooooooo I totally didn’t use this prompt as an excuse to write a story that’s been on my mind for a while now nope #fun fact homes in Texas usually don’t have basements #also I have no idea if the flash flood thing happens typically in Texan basements #I could totally be showing my northernness from it

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pedros-mustache-main · 4 years

Note

gwil looking deep into your eyes and saying "you have bewitched me body and soul"

what in the ever-loving hell. i wrote this instead of doing my modern history homework. what of it?

he catches you by surprise on an overcast afternoon. your arms are tired, weary from hanging freshly-laundered clothes on the line. despite the gray sky, the air is warm and breezy. you’re content, having spent the afternoon with your sister and her new husband back from their honeymoon.

you marvel at the way she glows in married life. she’s changed, though only just. at one point, you’d thought there would never be someone brave enough to court her. she’s like a kite, colorful and excitable; daring, too; always reaching for the sky. she’d be happy to die a spinster, so long as she could maintain her freedom. but along came joseph—and he caught the strings of her kite with ease. he doesn’t hold her down, doesn’t tug on her strings like a leash. he holds her like he was made to watch her fly and never let her go, like he was built to protect her from eager branches and thunderstorms and wayward birds. watching them sit on the settee, hands clasped in radiant happiness, you’d wondered if you, too, will find someone like him some day.

the sound of danielle’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts, and you turn to see her, brunette locks free around her shoulders despite your mother’s quip that it is decidedly unladylike to traipse around in such a state. you still, the frock in your hands dangerously low to the ground, when you see who walks by her side. he’s tall, well-built, and painfully handsome.

it’s him. it’s gwilym.

you stand frozen as he draws near. danielle grins, her arm around his, that annoying glint flickering in her eyes. she stops before the wicker basket on the ground, and, for a moment, you hope none of your chemises are on display.

“look who i found sneaking about the front garden, [y/n]? it’s mr. lee!” danielle grins up at him. “he said he’s here to pay joseph and i well wishes for our marriage, but i thought there must be an ulterior motive.”

shock and embarrassment mingle in the blush that rises to your cheeks. “danielle!” you whisper harshly.

she simply laughs, tossing her head back with ease. “the two of you have been dancing around like fools the last two summers. frankly, it’s making me dizzy. i wish you would do us all a favor and simply admit your feelings.”

gwilym shifts on his feet, working the brim of his hat between his fingers. he glances between you and your sister both, his own blush painting his high cheekbones. “mrs. mazzello,” he begins. “i don’t think—”

danielle drops his arm suddenly and steps away. she turns toward the house. “what’s that? you need me right away?” she throws a non-plussed look at you. “can you believe my husband?” she huffs. “dragging me away from you two like this? left with no chaperone? unbelievable, he is, but it is my duty to answer his call. i trust you both will behave.”

she flounces away, the ribbons of her dress trailing behind her as she answers the nonexistent call, leaving you alone, with the object of all your affections and desires and hopes.

there’s a beat of silence.

“i think—”

“i’m sorry—”

you both speak at once then stop before sharing an amused laugh. you wring the frock between your hands and glance at the ground. he gestures to you.

“you speak first, miss [y/l/n].”

looking up, you meet his eyes. “i’m sorry for my sister,” you say. “she’s... vivacious and conniving.”

he chuckles and looks at the toes of his shoes, nodding. “i’d gathered. my friend is absolutely besotted.”

you smile, thinking of the way joseph lights up the moment danielle enters the room or opens her mouth to speak. “who wouldn’t be?”

gwilym hums in approval. “who wouldn’t indeed.”

sidestepping the laundry basket, you lift it to your hip and tilt your head toward the house. “would you like some tea, sir? i’m sure my mother can make a fresh pot, and i’m sure joseph would love to see you.”

still wringing his hat between his hands, he shakes his head. “no—well, yes, but i—” he sighs. “your sister was not incorrect about my reasons for coming here today.”

you hesitate, feel your eyebrow arch, your heart quicken. “oh?”

this is what you sister means—this dance. since meeting gwilym, you have fallen harder for him every waking moment. he’s kind and generous and intelligent. he’s well-read and well-spoken. he makes your heart thump and your palms sweat and your knees weak. you love him, completely and utterly, but you have never said a word of it apart from to your sister. he is far too good for you, too well-off. some other girl, richer and prettier than you, deserves his affections.

still, he has paid you several calls over the last two summers. he’s danced with you at the village cotillion. once, he’d given you a poem he’d read, cut from one of his father’s books, that made him think of you. there is something, you think, between you both, but you will never act on it. you are not danielle; you cannot be brave and take charge like she can.

“i came because i have a request for you,” he says. his words are slow, as if he’s planned them out ahead of time and is careful to not let his tongue trip over his sentences.

you blink, a crease forming on your brow. “a request? what sort of request?”

“well, it’s a rather large one. i’ve taken a lot of time considering, you see, and i think you would be a perfect fit.”

“oh—is this about the position in your home?”

he nods. “the very same.”

your heart gives a little in your chest, but you adjust the basket on your hip and nod. “my mother told me of it.”

“she did?” his tone is somewhere between a squeak and a breath of relief. you can’t tell.

“yes. she said i would fit well. i know what i’m supposed to do, after all. i’ve been doing it all my life.”

gwilym frowns. “miss [y/l/n], i’m not entirely sure we’re speaking of the same position.”

you shake your head, uncertainty blooming in your chest. “but don’t you need a housekeeper, sir? what with your father’s passing and how large your estate is i thought that—”

“by god, woman, i don’t want you as a housekeeper! i want you as a wife!”

his outburst, so different from his usual gentle tone of voice, shocks you to your core. you drop the wicker basket with a gasp, rags and blankets and frocks spilling onto the carpet of grass beneath your bare feet.

he speaks fast then, as if his carefully planned script has been taken with the wind. a flush of frustration creeps up his neck, spreading onto his clenched jaw. “do you not know how much i care for you, [y/n]? i have thought of you endlessly these past two years. you have bewitched me body and soul, and i love you.”

“oh.”

“oh? can you say nothing else?”

“well, i suppose—i mean—do you really want me as your wife?”

his face eases, his lips tilting into a smile. “you and none other.”

narrowing your eyes, you smile and take a step closer. you’re standing on a dress, you think, but it doesn’t really matter. it can be washed again. he stays still, and you wonder if this is the closest you’ve ever stood to him. he feels much taller here; you must crane your neck to meet his eyes. he smells of sandalwood and fresh pine.

“say it again,” you whisper.

“what?” his breath fans along your face.

“my name—say it again.”

he lifts his thumb, brushes it along your cheek with such tenderness you nearly melt. “[y/n],” he whispers, lowering his lips to kiss your forehead. “[y/n].” he kisses your cheek. “[y/n].” your other cheek. hesitating above your lips, he quirks an eyebrow. “what say you? will you relent and marry me?”

“yes,” you breathe. “a thousand times yes.”

he lowers his mouth to yours and kisses you hard, his arms winding around your back. somewhere over your shoulder, you think you can hear your sister banging her hand in elation against the window, but you don’t care. your mouth moves across his with such ease and perfection, and you know he is right: you are the perfect fit for him, and he is for you.

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee blurb #j blurbs

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simplyclockwork · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love, love, love your stories! They're really helping me through some hard times. I wonder if you could write a fic where it's near the beginning of the series, and Sherlock is being very sad and distant from John because he hates that John is always dating these women because he loves him. And maybe John confronts him and it all comes out (no pun intended) and it's sweet and happy johnlock after angst. I'm over 18 so smut is fine (as long as it's bottom Sherlock which I prefer). Thanks!

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Hi, Anon! Thanks for your patience on this fill - I was busy all last month with National Novel Writing Month, and am slowly getting back into prompt fills. I hope you’re well, and that the fill is what you hoped for!

You can read the fill below the line break, or on Ao3 here.

Please feel free to send me prompts again in the future 🥰

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The atmosphere in the lab was thick enough to cut with a bread knife and growing thicker with every silent minute that passed. Sherlock sat scowling down at his notes, stubbornly ignoring John’s fretful pacing.

It was a little over a month since they’d become flatmates, and things were not working out the way Sherlock hoped. When they’d met, he’d taken to John at once. But he’d resolved to keep his distance, and when John made a pass at him, Sherlock had been far too out of touch with the dating game to catch on until after he’d brushed aside any chance at pursuing a relationship.

At the time, he’d been too embarrassed to take back his statements. After the case, he’d thought. He would address the miscommunication once things settled down.

But then there was another case, and then another, and then it was too late because John was dating. Not only was he dating, but he brought his dates home. Paraded them past Sherlock in what he imagined wasn’t possibly meant to be retribution for Sherlock’s rejection, but which certainly felt like it.

Penance. It felt like penance.

Halfway to Bart’s, the frustration and burrowing sadness had poured out of Sherlock like water from a burst dam, and he’d spewed a flood of venom like nothing John ever saw from him before.

It left both of them smouldering like smoking craters, with John stunned and confused, and Sherlock horrified by how he’d deduced John within an inch of his life. How he’d shouted at John in the back of a cab about the disappointing sex John seemed to be having, how he’d gained a quarter-stone — which he desperately needed after losing weight following his injury — and how he would never amount to anything greater than a part-time locum doctor.

It was cruel, he’d been cruel, and Sherlock knew it.

But, staring at the notes and figures in front of him, he couldn’t find the words to take it all back. So he feigned distraction in the form of research and let John stomp and pace and mutter under his breath until Molly appeared and kicked them both out so a group of students could use the lab.

“I don’t know what your problem is,” John began the second they were alone in the hallway outside the lab, “but you’re a right bastard today.”

Instead of responding, Sherlock quickened his pace. His legs were longer than John’s, and he was a master at escape, and he did his best to leave behind the angry storm cloud that had replaced his flatmate.

He severely underestimated John’s tenacity.

With a sound not unlike an approaching thunderstorm, John stomped after him. “Oh, don’t you dare!” Sherlock moved to side-step him when John caught up, but they’d reached the lift, and there was nowhere to go.

Rookie mistake. He should have gone for the stairs.

Frustrated, Sherlock stabbed at the down button, praying the lift was close. To his relief, it rose from the first floor at once, and he sighed, knowing he only had to weather the storm of John Watson for a little longer. Then he could jump into a cab and disappear.

“Sherlock.” John’s quiet growl was difficult to ignore. But the lift dinged before he could speak, and the doors slid open, providing the perfect avenue for escape.

“Come along, John,” Sherlock said in a bored voice, sweeping into the lift without so much as looking John’s way.

The storm cloud followed on his heels. John crowded in close, his anger erasing his usual respect for personal space.

“You git,” he huffed, jerking his chin upward to meet Sherlock’s eye. “I don’t know what your bloody problem is today, but you’d better explain what that was right now.”

“John,” Sherlock said in a placating tone. His eyes were on the floor numbers, silently urging the lift downward. He just needed to buy time, talk some nonsense and leave no room for John to butt in.

He opened his mouth to do so when the lift shook, made a sharp grating noise, and ground to a halt. The lights flickered and died before the emergency lighting came on, slowly glowing to life with a low hum.

Oh, god, no, Sherlock thought, panic rising. No, no, no, don’t do this. His mouth snapped shut with an audible click of teeth. “What happened?”

Next to him, John frowned up at the emergency lights. “Power outage?”

Blowing a frustrated sigh out through his teeth to release some of his building anxiety, Sherlock nodded. “Seems like it.” He prodded at the darkened buttons without much hope, unsurprised when they failed to respond. “We’re stuck here.”

“Good,” John snapped, and Sherlock shot him a scowl.

“How is this good, John?” he demanded, only to back away when John advanced on him again.

“Because there’s nowhere for you to go, which means you’ll have to bloody well talk to me like an adult.”

Sherlock’s expression soured enough to curdle milk. “Oh, is there something we need to discuss?” he asked, feigning ignorance.

It was the wrong move. John’s thunderous face darkened further. The ever-present tremour in his left hand stilled, and Sherlock’s eyes dropped down to his motionless fingers with dawning horror.

Oh, he was in for it now.

“Where the hell do you get off,” John began in a low, dangerous voice, “ripping into me the way you did in the cab?”

His eyes fixed on the unlit control panel, Sherlock pressed his lips together and didn’t answer. Maybe if he ignored John long enough, he’d lose interest and give up.

Again, he was wrong.

“Don’t give me that,” John huffed. He stepped closer, getting right up in Sherlock’s face as much as he could with the height difference between them. “Don’t give me the silent treatment, Sherlock. What you did, those things you said, they were uncalled for.”

Sherlock held his silence, now staring over John’s head, and John’s mouth twisted downward.

“I put up with a lot, you know.” A change in John’s tone, an unexpected softening, made Sherlock glance at him in spite of himself. Seeing that he had Sherlock’s attention, John’s lips twitched to the side in a humourless smile. “Severed heads in the fridge, toes in the crisper — yeah, sometimes I make a fuss, but not as much as someone else would. I make my little fuss, and then I let it go because I know it’s part of who you are. It’s part and parcel of living with you, and while I don’t love finding body parts in the fridge, I live with it.” Eyes narrowing, John paused to make sure Sherlock was listening. “You hear me? I live with it.”

Staring down at him, Sherlock blinked. He kept his lips pressed together and waited.

John seemed to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. When he did, his voice was even softer, almost low enough to make Sherlock lean forward to hear. He resisted, instead straining to catch the words.

“What I don’t plan to live with is… is… whatever that was.” John waved his hand toward the lift doors as if indicating outside. He poked a finger into Sherlock’s chest. “I don’t know what bug crawled up your arse and died this morning, Sherlock, but I know it wasn’t my fault. So don’t take it out on me.”

The words, it wasn’t my fault, struck Sherlock like a physical blow. He stiffened and reared back, pressing into the railing running the length of the lift wall. Eyes wide and unblinking, he stared down at John, drawing up to his full height to better loom over him.

“Not your fault?” he repeated in a low voice. “Not your fault?”

But John refused to be intimidated, and he held his ground, jabbing his finger harder into Sherlock’s chest. “Yeah, that’s what I said, or weren’t you listening?” His voice dropped into a sneer, a passable imitation of Sherlock’s harshest tone.

To hear himself mimicked threw Sherlock for a loop, and he gaped. By the time he came back online, John was off and running, ranting away as he tapped his fingertip against Sherlock’s sternum.

“...and if the body parts aren’t bad enough, there’s the noise and the mess, and that mad thing you do with your violin where you make it sound like a bloody cat is dying in our flat, and—”

“Oh, and you’re the best flatmate ever to exist, I take it?” Sherlock interrupted. His cold voice cut through John’s words like an icy wind through thin fabric.

John went silent and still. Eyes narrowed, he said, “Didn’t say I was perfect, but if you’ve got a problem, you can damn well speak up. I’m not a sodding mindreader, am I?”

Annoyed to be shut down so thoroughly, Sherlock clenched his jaw and looked away. “This conversation is over.” He folded his arms over his chest to block John’s jabbing finger.

“It bloody well isn’t,” John growled, trying to pry Sherlock’s arms apart for some unfathomable reason.

Sherlock tried to shift away, but his back pressed harder into the railing. Flustered, he snapped, “What exactly are you trying to do here?”

“I don’t know!” John said, his voice rising as he threw his hands into the air. “God! You really are the most annoying bloke alive, aren’t you?”

Piqued by the insult, Sherlock hissed, “At least I’m not desperate!”

John frowned. “Who is desperate?”

“You!” Sherlock bit out, jabbing a finger toward John’s face. John leaned back, his frown deepening.

“Excuse me? How, exactly, am I desperate?”

“Oh, I don’t know, John, let me think.” Sherlock’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe because you’ve lived with me all of one month, and you’ve already managed to drag half of London’s female population through our flat while trying to get off.” He hissed the last, pushing as much disdain as he could summon into the words.

John stared at him. He stared at him so long that Sherlock thought his eyes might burn two twin holes into his face. Just as he began to shift from one foot to the other, John burst.

“This is about me dating?” He sounded confused now, caught on the defensive by Sherlock’s revelation. “What do you have against me dating?”

Pushed to his breaking point, Sherlock snapped, “Everything.”

His confusion only growing, John blinked. He tilted his head to the side. “But why?”

The words poured out without cessation, Sherlock at the mercy of both his frustration and a month of suppressed emotions. “I hate it. I hate every single one of them, every woman that you parade through our flat. It’s never-ending, John! I swear, if you’re doing it just to punish me, then well done! You’ve succeeded — I’m properly sorry for rejecting you. Is that what you’d like to hear? Shall I say it again? Sorry, John, so sorry.” His voice was hard and acerbic, pushing the apology toward mockery instead of anything genuine.

He opened his mouth to go on, but John held up a hand, clapped it over Sherlock’s mouth, and said, “Alright, shut up a bloody second. Let me catch up.”

His lips mashed against John’s palm, Sherlock stared daggers down at him.

“Okay, let me get this straight,” John began slowly, looking at Sherlock from beneath a furrowed brow. “You’re angry because I’ve been dating, and you don’t like that I bring them back to the flat? No, shut up, I’m not finished yet.”

Sherlock scowled. He considered biting John’s hand before dismissing the idea and subsiding.

John’s eyes searched Sherlock’s face as he went on. “So you don’t like that I’m dating, and you’re sorry for rejecting me? Also, you think I’m punishing you?” Frowning, John shook his head. “But when have I ever…” he paused, going deadly still as their eyes locked. “Are you talking about Angelo’s? That first night?”

Sherlock didn’t move, didn’t so much as breathe, refusing to validate the guess. But John figured it out on his own.

“Sherlock,” he said slowly, bemusement spreading over his face, “you rejected me. Remember? You said—”

“I know what I said,” Sherlock growled, shoving John’s hand away from his mouth.

John’s confusion only seemed to increase. “Then what are you—”

“Nevermind, John!” Sherlock turned his head away, frustrated that the lift wasn’t moving and he couldn’t escape.

“Oh, no, I’m not gonna do that,” John replied, his hand dropping to Sherlock’s arm. “Not until you explain what’s going on here.”

Sherlock pressed his lips together and glared at the wall. He felt John’s gaze on his face, still searching, and his jaw clenched.

“Hold on…” Something flickered in John’s face, the rising glimmer of realization sparking in his eyes. “Sherlock… do you…” He paused and wet his lips in a nervous tick Sherlock caught from the edge of his vision. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“Feelings,” Sherlock repeated in a hiss, pushing a depthless disgust into the singular word. “What sentimental rubbish, John. As if I—”

Before he could spew more ire and venom, John grabbed him by the lapels and tugged him down, cutting off his words. Rocking forward, Sherlock opened his mouth to ask what John was doing, but then John’s lips were on his, and Sherlock’s brain ground to a halt.

He took in the sensory input through a narrowing sense of awareness. Each thought struggled to make its way into his mind. The first thing he thought was soft, and the last was wet, because John opened his mouth and swept his tongue over the seam of Sherlock’s lips, and the rest disappeared beneath a rush of physical reaction.

By the time his brain finally rebooted, John was leaning back and breathing heavily with his eyes fixed on Sherlock’s mouth.

“You utter git,” he breathed, the warmth of his exhale hot against Sherlock’s lips. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Dazed and still several steps behind, Sherlock blinked. “I,” he tried and had to clear his throat, to John’s visible amusement, “I thought it might be too late.”

“Well, speak up sooner next time, then,” John teased, the sheer 180 degree shift of his mood making Sherlock’s head spin.

Frowning, he said, “I thought you were mad.”

“Oh, I’m furious,” John said, eyes flashing. His fingers wiggled, grip tightening on Sherlock’s lapels. “And I think you’re going to have to make it up to me.”

“Oh?” Sherlock’s voice wavered, nearly wheezing from his lips. “How am I going to do that?”

John’s eyes dropped to his lips again, half-lidded and lingering. “I’m sure I’ll think of something,” he murmured.

This time, when he pulled Sherlock back down for another kiss, Sherlock was ready.

#johnlock #prompt fill #first kiss #angst with a happy ending #prompt #Anonymous

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vannahfanfics · 3 years

Text

Before you read, here’s the previous chapter. New? Start from the beginning!

Daffodils Bloom After Winter

Ao3

Chapter 9: The Lowest of Lows

The window looked like a waterfall as the rain streamed down the glass. The light played across the water, painting ribbons of white over Shikadai’s face as he gazed out. He’d hoped after the small sprinkle the other day that the weather would improve, but it had only grown worse. Now, a torrent poured from the sky, and thunder rumbled in the thick gray clouds.

I don’t want to go home, but it’s getting late, Shikadai thought with a small groan and cast a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. The minute hand was inching closer and closer to six p.m. He certainly didn’t want to trudge home in the rain and the dark. However, whenever thunderstorms choked the sky, his father’s mood plummeted to all-time lows. He’d be despondent, irritable, and maybe even delusional. Shikadai had borne witness to more hallucination fits than he would’ve liked.

Ino would let him stay the night if he asked. He knew that by the way she was staring at him, pretending to lock down the register to finish closing up the shop. He’d done it more than once.

But… It would make Miss Ayumi happy if I worked on my relationship with him, Shikadai thought with a frown. He couldn’t avoid his father forever, and though there were good days and bad days, things were getting better overall. She would say that it’s important to be there for him in his hard times. He knew that, but still… The idea of going home to his father when he was probably in a near-manic state made him a bit nauseous.

His eyes wandered around the shop instead, never settling on the colorful blooms Ino so dutifully tended until he spotted one nestled between two large bouquets. He could just barely see it, a hint of bright yellow between deep green. He walked over to the shelf and pushed the larger pots aside to reveal a single potted daffodil. He picked it up, tilting his head as he inspected the strange-looking flower. Despite its funny, trumpet-like appearance, he rather liked it.

“Ah, found that one, did you?” he heard Ino hum in amusement over his shoulder, and he turned to see her standing beside him, dusting the last bit of soil from her apron before untying it. “A strange one, that little flower. Daffodils normally bloom in autumn, yet there’s this guy, flowering in summer.”

Shikadai looked back to the daffodil, then smiled. Going against the grain, trying to get a head start on life, huh? he fancied. “Would you like it?” Ino asked him suddenly, and he looked up at her again. “I probably won’t be able to sell it. It’s really quite small, and out of season, at that. You can have it if you want.”

“I don’t want it, but… Miss Ayumi loves plants. I bet she would like it.”

“I bet she would,” Ino smiled and patted the top of his head. He hugged the daffodil close to his body and took a deep breath; it felt like the strength of that flower to bloom also gave him the strength to face his father’s undoubtedly bad mood. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” Ino pressed when he turned back towards the door, and he shook his head with a grateful smile.

“No. I know how Dad gets when it storms like this… The least I can do is be there for him.”

“You’re really growing up,” Ino sighed as if he were her own child. With as much time he’d spent here in the last year, he supposed that it was warranted. She played with his shirt, as if trying to bundle him up against the cold. “Ayumi would be proud to hear you say that.” He swelled with pride at her words, which made Ino’s smile soften. “I’m glad she’s there to support you. She’s a wonderful person.”

“Yeah, she really is,” he agreed with a look at the daffodil. “She’s helped me a lot… I hope she can help Dad, too.”

“She will,” she encouraged. “Your father just needs time. With the both of you supporting him, I think Shikamaru will finally be able to heal.” Shikadai sure hoped so because if Ayumi couldn’t fix him, he doubted that anything could.

Ino sent him off with one of Inojin’s rain jackets, though he insisted he was all right with just his umbrella. He ended up being grateful for it, for the wind whipped the rain up in splattering gales that not even his umbrella could protect him from. He sheltered the daffodil under the rubbery protection of his raincoat while he splashed quickly through the sodden streets, mud spattering up his legs despite his best attempts to avoid the deep puddles. He was a right soaking-wet mess by the time he arrived home, but he was delighted to see that his daffodil had escaped the worst of it, only dusted with a thin layer of dewdrop mist.

The wind rattled the front door, like an ominous omen that a beast prowled within. Shikadai stared at it for several moments, but when the wind howled furiously behind him, he forced himself to step inside lest he drown in the buckets of rain. Holding the daffodil to his chest like a lifeline, he cautiously edged through the gloom of the house toward the living room. He could hear his father’s feverish footsteps echoing in the shadows.

Shikadai found his father circling the couch, his face pale and sweaty. Round and round like a feral beast he paced the floor until the thunder rolled overhead, when he stopped and flinched down with a gasp. After a second of trembling and staring at a vision Shikadai couldn’t see, he would resume his endless commute. Mumbles tumbled from his lips, and amidst the inane babble, Shikdai heard his mother’s name more than once.

“Father?” he called in a gentle voice. He knew better than to startle Shikamaru when he was like this. Once, in his delirium, he’d mistaken his son as an enemy ninja and sprang on him. It took far too long for Shikadai’s screams and sobs to reach his ears. He’d had to wear turtlenecks for a week to hide the finger-shaped bruises on his neck, and even longer for Shikadai not to look at him in fear.

Shikadai didn’t fear his father anymore. He pitied him, and he missed him, missed the way he used to be and used to smile.

Shikamaru twitched, an action that made Shikadai reflexively take a few steps back. However, when Shikamaru looked at him, he didn’t see the feral flash of hatred, but the tired gaze of a begrieved man.

“You’re home,” he croaked, and Shikadai just nodded. “... I”m surprised,” he admitted while casting a gaze to the window, watching the rain beat against the glass. The wind rattled the pane, shaking it in the wall to fill the air with an ominous clattering.

Shikadai swallowed before replying, “I… I didn’t want you to be alone, Father.”

Shikamaru cast his gaze to the floor. His shadow was swallowed up by the gloom of the room— that is, until the lightning flashed fiercely outside, throwing light across the room. Shikamaru’s shadow cowered with him, and when the thunder finished rumbling, Shikamaru was pressing the heel of his hand into his eye with a grimace.

“You’re better off somewhere else, or at least out of my sight,” he grumbled. Shikadai knew that the words came from a place of worry, not of hatred, but he still cringed at them. “It’s not safe… when I’m like this.” As if to prove it, the sky rumbled furiously again; Shikamaru roared and whipped around, flinging a kunai knife through the window. Shikdai screamed as the glass shattered. The wind leaped in through the jagged hole in the glass, bringing the rain with it. They both just stared at the rapidly-growing puddle of water on the wood.

It was frightening. It always was, seeing his father struggle to hang on to his sanity as the thunderstorm raged overhead. Even so… Shikadai had to support him. That was what family was supposed to do— support one another through their lowest of lows.

“Father, I don’t want to run away anymore,” Shikadai insisted, squeezing the potted daffodil under his raincoat. “If we’re going to get through this, we have to be there for each other. I know that’s what Miss Ayumi is trying—”

“Ayumi isn’t a replacement for your mother, Shikadai!”

Shikamaru suddenly whipped around, and Shikadai’s strength was sucked from his body, bringing him to his knees in an instant. He had never seen such a look of ferocity in his eyes, even in his psychotic fits. Shikadai began to fiercely quake, every inch of his body shaking like he was suffering an awful chill— and he was, the cold pit of dread spreading from his belly to taint every nerve within him.

He was scared. He was so scared. He didn’t want his father to look like that. He was scared, and he had nobody to hold him, nobody to tell him why his father just wouldn’t listen, nobody to explain that Shikamaru was just as scared as he was.

Somehow, Shikadai managed to whisper, “I didn’t say that she was.”

Shikamaru blinked, and the fire in his eyes dwindled, settling back to those dead coals of despair. As if released by a spell, Shikadai lurched over, huddling over the daffodil with his belly roiling so much that he gagged a little, on the verge of retching. He managed to swallow the urge, though, and then the tears came. Bitter tears, frustrated tears, angry tears all in rapid succession— they puddled with the rainwater beneath him, swirling together into a salty mess. Just like his family, a mess.

“I just want you to get better,” he hissed through clenched teeth. He wasn’t even sure if Shikamaru could hear him, but he said it anyway. “I just want… I don’t want to see you suffer anymore.” He was yelling now, whipping up his head to shout through the tears and snot running rivers down his face. “I can’t live like this anymore, Dad! I won’t! I don’t care what it takes! I don’t care how many times you yell at me, or grab me, or shake me, or even choke me! I’m not goin’ anywhere, so stop trying to push me away!”

Shikamaru stared at him. His eyes were wide onyxes in his pale face, but he didn’t say anything— he just stared. Agonized, Shikadai clenched his fists against the wood.

“For better or for worse, all we have is each other,” he said, voice cracking with a sob. “That’s all we’ve got, and I’m not letting go of that. So you sit here and sulk all ya want, Dad. I’m going to my room.” He pushed himself to his feet, gathered up the daffodil, and stomped off down the hallway while furiously scrubbing the tears from his face. Yet like the rain outside, they kept pouring.

As soon as Shikadai slammed the door shut behind it, he collapsed back against it, sinking down to a sitting position. He hugged the daffodil to his chest as he cried, and his father’s words echoed in his head.

“Ayumi isn’t a replacement for your mother, Shikadai!”

Of course she wasn’t. Nothing could ever replace his bright, beautiful mom. But that didn’t mean that someone couldn’t fill the void, right? Isn’t that what she would want? For someone to take care of them, to love them as she would, to bring happiness and light back into this broken home?

He wanted to believe that. He wanted to believe so badly that’s what his mother wanted. He wanted to believe that she guided Ayumi to them because she couldn’t bear to see them suffer anymore, couldn’t bear to watch the family she loved so much torn apart by her overwhelming absence.

Sobs bordering on wails echoed through Shikadai’s room as he howled with the wind, thick globs of tears pouring down his face to splash down onto the daffodil’s yellow petals. And as he cracked his eyes open, looking at the colors of the daffodil kaleidoscoping in his watery vision, he was overwhelmed by a simple desire: Ayumi.

She couldn’t replace his mother, but she could hold him, she could comfort him, she could weather him through this terrible storm. And so he found himself wrenching open his window to climb out onto the muddied yard, mud splashing up his legs as he ran back out onto the street with the daffodil clutched to his chest. He squinted against the sheets of pounding rain and the water pouring down his forehead into his eyes. With the road beginning to flood, forming a swampy network of puddles, he didn’t see the rock sticking up from the muck until it was too late.

It collided with his toe and he fell right over it, flinging the pot several yards in front of him. He landed on his hands and knees, mud splashing up all over his front and into his face. He spit the disgusting stuff out of his mouth, coughing, and then looked up with a gasp. There in the middle of the street, the pot lay broken in two, and the torrential rain had washed all the soil away. Shikadai scrambled to get up, feet slipping and sliding in the mud for several seconds before the soles of his shoes finally gained traction. He plucked the daffodil just as it started to be swept away into a stream, and he cradled its limp form gently in his hands.

“No,” he whispered brokenly. Was he destined to be this daffodil, swept away in these never-ending storms of sadness? No, that couldn’t be, he wouldn’t let it be! All he needed was someone to pot him again, to tend to him and give him gentle love and care— and he knew where to find that. Holding the daffodil close, he took off running again.

The storm had reached its peak by the time Shikadai made it to Ayumi’s house. The sky was drenching the earth with a vendetta; the sheets of rain were so thick that Shikadai could hardly see two feet in front of him, and the howling gales buffeted him at every turn, making him unsteady on his feet. He half-ran, half-slid across Ayumi’s yard to stumble up onto his porch, where he collapsed into a heap, panting heavily.

The cold rain had drenched him down to his very cells, it felt like. He was shivering again, feeling like frost was growing in his bones. Still, he summoned up the strength to rap his knuckles against the door. Then that strength gave out, and he flopped down on his side. He curled up around the daffodil, sheltering it from the cold rain with his dwindling body heat. He stroked a finger over one of its dewy petals, watching the yellow blur with his fading vision until it was all just gray-white nothingness.

“I just want us to get better.”

Enjoy this story? Here’s the next chapter! Please consider perusing my Table of Contents.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto next generations #nara shikamaru #nara shikadai #naruto oc

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wincore · 4 years

Note

hiii moonnn !! for the kiss prompt , may I request johnny pls 🥺 place: under the stars & love as the reason ! tysm this is an honour bc u’re one of my fave nct writers 😙💖

thank u darling for enjoying my writing!!

theme: boyfriend!au, demigod!au (greek mythology)

“So…are you gonna tell me why you brought me up here or…?”

“Do I need a reason?” Johnny grins at you, chin resting on his forearms atop the roof of his car.

“I can’t help but think you’re up to something,“ you state, narrowing your eyes at him from the other side.

Johnny lets out a short chuckle before closing the door of the car and motioning for you to follow. When your boyfriend said he’s taking you on an adventure, you quite literally had no clue what to expect. Everything’s an adventure to the man—even if it’s just going out at 3 a.m. to get hot ramen from the convenience store right beside your apartment. You didn’t think it’d be an hour drive, dozing off on Johnny’s shoulder by the time you reached.

You take two steps after him before you gasp.

“Don’t tell me we’re meeting your dad!”

The blood drains from your face at the idea. A God among Gods—you wish that were an understatement—is unlikely to meet mere human beings on a whim, lesser beings as one of the other demigod children had labeled bitterly. He’s a God, feared and admired since times of war and prayers. So what gives you, a mortal, enough confidence to face someone as divine, as powerful? It makes you uneasy.

You shake out of your trance to find Johnny laughing, doubled over.

“We’re not really meeting him but- you’re that scared of my dad?” he says, calming down from his fit. “Even I’m not that terrified of him, babe.”

“Shut up,” you say, cheeks coloring. “It’s not exactly everyday I meet someone who can smite me out of existence.”

“Relax! He’s pretty easy-going,” your boyfriend reassures you, taking hold of your hand. “Besides, he likes hanging out at the beach. And he’s got, like, a bajillion other kids to worry about.”

You rub your thumb over his knuckles, a sigh leaving your lips.

“He can’t be that bad,” you mumble, feeling somewhat sorry.

“Oh,” Johnny says with a dismissive tone, “Pretty sure he’s won worst dad of the year several times, actually. Only beaten by Zeus himself.”

You want to laugh but you stiffen.

“Are you allowed to say his name like that?!” You lower your voice, eyes shifting around nervously.

“If Zeus could hear everyone saying his name, he’d be, uh, hearing some delicate words pretty often.” Johnny shrugs. “And then we’d have more thunderstorms.“

You laugh, easing, Johnny’s eyes lighting up at the sound. They always make you feel warm in the chest, with how pretty those almond eyes are. He tugs at your hand, and you follow him up a beaten road before diverging into a less visible track.

It’s a long walk uphill, however, and Johnny has it easy when his legs are so fucking long. The wind gets chilly and you cling onto Johnny’s hand for a little piece of warmth. A break would be nice. You stop halfway through, swearing at your boyfriend for choosing such a godforsaken place but continue nonetheless when he frowns, a look in his eyes you don’t want to upset.

Johnny doesn’t let go of your hand the entire time. He’s been this way since you started dating, perhaps even before—a little protective with the need to feel your touch at all times. It’s understandable and you found it endearing despite how often he refuses to let go. (And his strength and stature make it next to impossible to break free.)

It wasn’t hard to tell there was something off about your boyfriend; maybe not the first or second time you met him, but eventually, it was clear. You met in university after all, and it’s not the full uni experience unless all your secrets are laid bare by the end of first year.

Johnny was a natural people person, everyone drawn to him like he was made of honey, of things so sweet. But there was something about him, oh it nagged you day and night, a silvery whisper. The way he spoke, the way he smiled—there was a quiet difference you just couldn’t put your finger on. He’s aced every athletics club entrance test for fun, a little awkward at reading his text material and always hanging around the swimming pool for too long—gosh, were the number of people ogling him extraordinarily high then. There were so many hints and you’d missed all of them.

You’ve met demigods before, just not one like this. Johnny was almost unworldly were it not for his habit of making everyone feel at ease. It took you a while to figure out.

Son of Poseidon, gentle eyes and sun-crinkles—how could you miss it? The way he smells of golden amber and sea musk, calloused hands and deep eyes, just all of him, really. It was hard to not find him attractive. But it was harder to answer if that was all.

The place gets closer—you know because you can see a soft smile forming on Johnny’s face. You quicken your pace to match his footsteps, curiosity peaking as you notice your boyfriend get giddier.

The water glows a gentle blue, in contrast with the darker shade of its surroundings. They reflect the stars, their shine not dulled through the distance and a certain twinkling you haven’t seen in them in quite a while. Water lilies bloom bright, small frogs jumping in and out of the water. There might be some fish too but they’re elusive, invisible if you try too hard to spot them.

It’s a clear sky tonight. You sigh at the warmth, quite possibly a result of the habitation around here but you’re glad it soothes the cool air. (”You like this kind of thing, don’t you?” “Hm, yeah.”)

“You will not believe how I had to impress the Naiads to find this place,“ Johnny tells you, walking closer to the spring to stand beside you.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, the implication of his words not quite what you expected. “Impress, huh?”

“No- babe, that’s not- I mean, of course not,“ Johnny looks at you with mock hurt.

“Naiads do love a son of Poseidon,“ you mumble, turning away to face the waters.

Johnny wraps his arms around you, resting his chin atop your head. “Oh, but this son of Poseidon only loves you.”

“Johnny, that’s cheesy,” you say looking down, the heat quite rushed to your cheeks. You want to call him an idiot but the word falls short.

“But you’re enjoying it,” he hums.

“I enjoy everything about you.”

You feel Johnny shake with soft laughter, swaying gently at his own pace. You don’t know when you started to see Johnny in most everything—in the new dog cafes, in midnight city rains, in children playing volleyball. Call it love, call it more.

You turn around. “I—”

Johnny presses his mouth against yours in a kiss that makes you melt and you clutch the fabric of his hoodie for support. His arms wind around your waist, secure as always and he hums when you push against him.

“Baby’s getting bolder, hm?” he murmurs between kisses with a laugh. You respond with a weak sound.

You remember the first time you kissed him, not quite sober and he had pushed you away only to spend the night with you. The whiskey still burns on your tongue sometimes.

You don’t need to see fireworks when you kiss, just taste the late night coffee and a bit of Johnny.

A son of a God and his lips, tongue, fingers, love—the texts and scribes were nothing close to describing it perfectly. You forget the words you meant to tell him.

But you don’t have to say ‘I love you’; it’s there in your mouth and he can taste it.

“No, I don’t wanna listen to the minotaur story again!” Johnny shakes you by the shoulders. “It’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard.”

“But why? I think it’s funny—”

“Yeah, Dad’s very creative but…gross.”

You laugh at his disgust, nose wrinkled and a mild shaking of his head.

“Tell me another story,” he says, leaning in, “Something more…romantic.”

You breathe out quickly at the sudden proximity, heart in your throat. His smile grows and you resist the urge to huff at him. He’s unbearable when he knows he’s under your skin. Gods, it was harder to admit you fell in love with him than it was to find out his heritage.

You reach out and move the hair out of his face, marveling at how he manages to keep it soft when he used to be a sweaty college student pretty often. Memories are funny in a way, they keep you so closely tied. There’s an embarrassing amount of pictures of him on your phone, the ones he sent from the dorms, from his new job, sometimes family photos during holidays. It gets busy a lot, but sometimes, just sometimes, it’s like this.

You wonder if Gods get to have happy endings. You wonder if there’s more to the constellations they made.

“Hello?” Johnny pretends to knock on your forehead.

“Something more romantic, hm? Okay,” you say and he goes back to laying his head on your lap, twirling the water in wisps around his fingers to spell random words. You bend to press a kiss to his forehead, a surprised smile wavering onto his face as the water splashes beside you.

“Baby, you might want to have aimed lower.” Johnny winks at you.

“You’re so annoying. I’m in love with you.”

#nct scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct johnny scenarios #nct blurbs #nct 127 blurbs #nct au #nct fluff #nct 127 fluff #nct johnny fluff #kiss prompts #moonwrites #a full nct demigod au pls discuss #once upon a time.....i used to be a fast writer.......#i rlly wish i could write the demigod part better but id digress too much hhhhh

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thegildedraven · 5 years

Text

storm’s coming

All you storm and weather witches listen up here, all of us secretly really get off on storms and that crackly energy in the air and the rumble of thunder and the flash of lightning and the wild feeling of freedom. So we don’t want to be caught off guard when a sudden storm arrives and we haven’t got all the jars out or we’re in the middle of something right?

Well, here’s an updated list on how to tell when a storm’s coming your way:

- read the clouds:

cumulonimbus clouds - cumulonimbus clouds develop when cumulus clouds (pillowy, cotton wool-y, flat base) develop vertically or billow upwards. a cumulus cloud that turns into a cumulonimbus can develop into a powerful thunderstorm within an hour.

arcing “arcus” shelf clouds - these wedge-shaped clouds resemble a shelf, and can be described as rolling. these can also be a sign of foul weather incoming, especially if they’re turning darker.

cloud color - you may be thinking “well no shit Raven, dark clouds = stormy weather”, but well here’s dwelling into some specifics. Sure, very dark clouds mean the weather is going to turn stormy real quick, but did you know that green clouds mean severe weather? like those gray-greenish clouds that are very deep and tall? yeah those mean something big and mean is on its way. black clouds mean that there is a coming storm that does not have strong winds. brown clouds mean that there is a coming storm that does have strong winds. gray clouds usually mean a new or a light storm. however, gray skies mean that the storm is affecting a large area and may remain for awhile “red sky at night sailor’s delight, red sky in the morning sailors take warning” has some grain of truth to it too. red sky in the morning means bad weather is moving in.

- use your nose:

take a deep inhale - it’s true, you can smell incoming rain. ah, nothing like the sharp, strippingly fresh smell of ozone before a storm. there’s a whole science behind this, and I can cover how some chemical reaction caused by an electrical charge like lightning or a generator involving atmospheric nitrogen and oxygen molecules splitting, but that’s not the point here. the point is, you can smell the ozone. sweet, pungent, a zing, sharp, bare, that’s my description for it. so get ready to use that nose of yours.

- halo around moon and sun:

high clouds will refract a ring of light around the moon or sun, a halo around the moon indicates that a warm front is approaching. like that saying “ring around the moon? rain real soon”. I’m using a lot of sayings, huh. double halo around the moon could mean strong winds.

- watch smoke from a fire

pressure determines which direction the smoke is gonna go. high pressure? smoke goes upwards. low pressure? smoke goes downwards. when smoke spirals downwards, bad weather’s on its way.

- humidity

now, I live in an area where humidity is at a constant high, so this probably won’t work for me and everyone else who lives in high-humidity regions. but here goes. high humidity precedes a storm, so check for signs of humidity like frizzy hair, curly leaves, swollen wood, or just feel it.

- count the stars

if you’re out at night, the stars could be an indicator. the more stars you see, the clearer the skies are. no stars mean heavy cloud coverage and could signify coming storms.

- observe the birds and the animals

birds -birds can sense bad weather coming and they usually fly low or seek refuge before a storm, and they’ll go quiet. that’s part of the reason why it’s so oddly quiet before a storm.

butterflies and bees - they will usually return to their homes before a storm for safety so you probably won’t see them out and about.

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lilacandladybugs · 4 years

Note

What’s your current relationship with god? I’m very curious lmao

I’m sorry if this sounds incomprehensible and rambly and disjointed or pretentious. I care a lot more about this than almost anything else in the world and I wish I could do a better job of explaining myself. But I feel like why I believe in God or what my relationship with him is like is like trying to explain who I am. And I’m just the accumulation of everything I’ve ever experienced or that I think and I feel like it’s really important that I communicate it correctly so here is my attempt.

Here’s a video that’s really good that I think will give some good background information. If you don’t want to read all of this, the video is probably enough to explain.

youtube

TLDR: This isn’t the way things are supposed to be. Death isn’t supposed to happen, it isn’t a part of the natural order of things. God loved us so much he died to fix it, and rose again to defeat death. God loves me and I love him, and I’ve never found peace or fulfillment like that in anything else.

I hope this makes sense anon let me know if you have any questions or if I misinterpreted your question.

TW suicide // grief // abuse // rape mention (not v bad or graphic or anything)

Long version:

I think I've always thought that there's something naturally (for lack of a better word) poetic about existing. Not really meaning that it's good, but kind of that everything feels really purposeful it seems to flow together like an old epic. Everything seems intensely meaningful to me.

I've always thought that life was tragic. That death is a fracture in the way things are, like we live in the ancient ruins of a long lost civilization.

And I've always thought that life seems like an incomprehensibly wonderful gift, because how can there be tragedy if there isn't anything worth losing? But somehow it seems like peace is the basic way things are, that normalcy isn't normal at all but like this status quo of goodness which makes bad things happening not only heart breaking but surprising.

Reconciling all of those ideas is really confusing.

I'm a strong proponent of thinking analytically about what you believe since the answer we choose to the question of whether or not God exists is like quite literally something we bet our lives on. We bet our life that God exists or that he doesn't, that things have meaning anchored in an external source or that they don't.

So while I grew up a Christian I've never felt really dead in it. I want to be uncomfortable. I want to be stubborn in asking questions and I don't have a problem with questioning authorities on why they believe what they believe—especially if they really confidently assert it. I want to be able to know things and understand them.

My junior year of high school three of my closest childhood friends died, and several others almost died. I remember sitting up at like two am listening to twenty one pilots self titled album just like seething and exhausted asking lord why would you abandon me like that?

Some other really horrible things happened to people that I cared about, I felt abandoned and rejected by Christians just for being broken, some of them caused it or contributed to the trauma and abuse. How could people who claimed the name of God do that?

My debate partner's best friend killed himself the same year that my friends died, and he became an atheist and I stayed a Christian. We fought about it a lot. I really seriously considered becoming an atheist.

The thing that I couldn't accept was the lack of eternality.

Really ironically I think I stayed a Christian for the same reason that my friend became an atheist. We were both asking why all of the living world is crying out in anguish. We both wanted to die. We both were angry. We both were horrified.

My friend thought that the question of “where is God?” was harder to answer than “why is there meaning to death?”

I'm a Christian because I'm horrified. He's an atheist for the same reason.

If you don’t feel like reading it, here’s the TLDR: there is no reason for someone to do something or not do something if God isn’t there to tell them to. There isn’t a moral grounding for law.

Arthur Leff was an atheist law professor at Yale in the eighties, and he wrote about the moral grounding for laws in his essay, Unspeakable Ethics, Unnatural Law. The question he was asking was what can we do to ground morality? What can we do to prove objectively that there are things one ought to do and things one ought not do?

I am unwilling to accept that. There is something evil about abuse, neglect, rape, torture. There is something about these things that violates human rights, human dignity. There's something about them that goes against objective moral law.

But without God there is no moral law. So I wouldn't be able to say, "you should never rape someone, because rape is wrong." And everything that I had experienced flew in the face of that.

Dr. Leff wrote this about that question;

“All I can say is this: it looks as if we are all we have. Given what we know about ourselves and each other, this is an extraordinarily unappetizing prospect; looking around the world, it appears that if all men are brothers, the ruling model is Cain and Abel. Neither reason, nor love, nor even terror, seems to have worked to make us "good," and worse than that, there is no reason why anything should. Only if ethics were something unspeakable by us, could law be unnatural, and therefore unchallengeable. As things now stand, everything is up for grabs.

Nevertheless:

Napalming babies is bad.

Starving the poor is wicked.

Buying and selling each other is depraved.

Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot-and General Custer too-have earned salvation.

Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned.

There is in the world such a thing as evil.

[All together now:] Sez who?

God help us.”

In the end, it comes down to this; Do I believe that the complexity of the universe is because there was someone intelligent actively involved in its design, do I believe that information, reason, logic, emotion, and morality exist and are reliable because they have grounding in God’s identity? Do I believe that God is who he says he is?

And I guess the answer to those questions was yes.

I saw God. He was there in the stillness - in the sunrise and sunset and at 2 am after I couldn't cry anymore. I felt him. And I know part of his goodness that I wish I never had to know. I felt like I was lying breathless bleeding out in a gutter watching the stars. Almost like a pause - just a moment in time where I was hurt enough, still enough to hear his voice.

One of the most important things I learned is that life is not hopeless. If life is a story, then the last chapter of the book has already been written. This is the premise of the song It is Well with My Soul by Horatio G. Spafford.

“When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,

When sorrows like sea billows roll;

Whatever my lot, God has taught me to say,

It is well, it is well, with my soul.

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought

My sin, not in part but the whole,

Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,

Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul”

The powers of evil and darkness can take away my friends, my sanity, my family, and even my life, but God has already saved me, and I can find peace in spite of my circumstances. Three of my friends died, but God has already conquered death. I feel powerless, but God is powerful. I feel abandoned, but God loves me so much that he died a horrible torturous death for me. Living in light of that is peace.

Whenever I felt like I couldn’t keep going there would be something to stop me. I heard his voice in music, and in my friends that held me when I cried, and in morning glories on my morning walk. I kept lists of all of the times this happened, every time that someone encouraged me to keep going, every time that someone would quote a Bible verse when I was crying out for God to answer me, every time that the world paused. Everything asked me the same question, do you think it means nothing? Do you think that there is a direction that we’re going? Are we coming from nothing and going toward nowhere?

I had friends who heard him too. He was so gentle to us. I wasn’t able to go to church, I wasn’t able to listen to worship music but the LGBTQ+ community took care of me, they were isolated from church as well. There was enough for me in that God promised he would take care of me, and he did. He died for me. He talked to my trans friend and said, “listen, your parents have rejected you and said you’ll never be your son, but I am a good father. I love you. Be my son instead.”

God mourned with me. He saw everything and he was angry. I was able to breathe because I knew that in the end there will be justice for abuse victims, because God said that he is the holder of justice, and vengeance will be his.

When one of my friends was hospitalized I stood outside during the beginning of a thunderstorm and watched the clouds and the sky darken and lightning flash across the sky.

Even the wind and the sea obey him. He asked me if I trust him.

I guess my answer was yes.

In spite of everything that I went through, I was more thoroughly convinced that I ever was before that things matter. I was convinced that abuse is evil. I was convinced that death is an abomination. I was convinced that these laws of morality are woven into the fabric of the universe. I was convinced that God died to save us from that reality. I was convinced he loved me.

I still am

#asks #about #eslyea #religion tw #religion #christianity #christianity tw #suicide tw #grief tw #suicide #grief #rape #rape tw #just mentioned but still #thanks for asking #c:#hope this is coherent

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softboywriting · 5 years

Text

Soaked | Shawn Mendes

Summary: You and Shawn get caught together in a storm after a show and it ends up being the push the two of you need to take your relationship to the next level. [non au setting]

Word Count: 1.1k

|Masterlist In Bio|

Shawn's been off stage for five minutes and you've already lost him. The man moved too fast and his long legs carried him strides ahead of you in any situation. You circle the back side of the arena's concourse and find one of the exit doors to the loading docks open. From the end of the hall you can see the rain coming down in droves, lightning crackling across the sky.

Your phone starts buzzing and you pull it from your pocket to see a flash flood warning. Great, the arena is right on the river side. You check every room on your way to the open door to see if anyone hauling out equipment has seen Shawn. You pass Mike and he's already soaked from being outside.

"Hey! Mike, have you seen Shawn? I can't find him and Andrew wants us to head to the bus so we can go to the hotel."

"He ran out just a few minutes ago. I think he was already heading for the buses, but uh, they had to move them out front because of the flash flooding. Did anyone tell you?"

"No? Fuck." You look out into the dark downpour. There was no way anyone could see anything and Shawn was probably wandering around like an idiot. "I'm going to find him. Tell Andrew we'll meet him at the buses."

"Yes ma'am."

You take a deep breath and go out the door. The rain is super cold and soaks you instantly. It plasters your hair to your head. You walk down the ramp of the docks and look around for any signs of life in the parking lot. Absolutely nothing. Visibility was zero and the wind just picked up, slanting the rainfall and making it worse.

"Shawn?!" You shout into the deafening rain. "Shawn!"

You head across the lot to the hill that goes up the street, parallel to the arena. It's the only way you imagine Shawn would have went since the other roadway was becoming flooded where the buses had been parked.

"Shawn!"

A figure in front of you turns around and runs toward you. Of course it's Shawn. "Oh my God am I happy to see you. Where the fuck are the buses?"

"Front entrance. Flash flooding is happening." You point back to where you think you came from. "Down...there?"

"How do we get to the front?"

"Uh, well." You look up and down the street. It's all dark, power gone from the street lights and stop lights. The rain whips around you, pelting your face and chills you to the bone. It's extremely disorienting and you can't tell which way the arena door you came from is. "I don't know where to go? Fuck...fuck." Panic sets in and you start turning every which way. Thunder shakes the world around you and your heart leaps up into your throat.

Shawn grabs your arms and he's just as cold as you are. "Relax, we'll figure it out."

"I have no idea which way to go! We're going to get struck by lightning or something!"

"Take my hand," Shawn says and you grab it. "Take a deep breath and-"

"Shawn I'm freezing to death! This is not the time for your yoga bre-"

His mouth covers yours and suddenly your heart stops. His big hands cradle your face and he pulls away, slick forehead pressed to yours. "Chill. Out."

"Do it again." You whisper and he hears you over the rain. He pulls you in again and kisses you deeply, wet lips working against yours. You never thought your first kiss with Shawn would happen standing in the middle of a severe thunderstorm. Hell, you only recently both admitted to liking each other more than just friends and colleagues. Recently as in, last night you and Brian did shots and you drunkenly confessed on the bus to a sleepy Shawn who in turn confessed to the same feelings.

"This never would have happened if you didn't run off with all your energy from the show coursing through you like you always do!"

He chuckles and brings you up for another kiss, making his way from your lips across your jaw to your ear. "I have a few ideas on how to work it off if you're up for it," he whispers lowly.

"I-"

"There you are!" You look over and Connor is driving a maintenance cart toward the two of you. "Why are you guys standing out in a fucking monsoon?!" He shouts over the roar of rain and seemingly endless rumbling thunder.

"Got a little lost!" Shawn laughs, pushing his hair back. "Mind giving us a ride?"

"Why do you think I'm here? Get in already!"

You and Shawn climb in the back of the maintenance cart and Connor spins it around to head back to the loading docks. Shawn's hand finds yours and you can't help the butterflies that build up in your stomach.

The three of you get inside the arena and Connor drops the two of you off near the front service entrance before taking off to return the cart. You and Shawn stand there making a giant puddle on the concrete floor. No one else is around and you push your soaked hair back, staring at the man before you.

"Your shirt is stuck to you." He says with a smirk.

You look down at the thin grey tee stuck to your skin. It was definitely clinging to everything. You look to Shawn and his white tank top is practically see through. "I guess we're quite a pair then."

"We could be." He grins, biting his lip and taking your hands by your fingertips as he slowly steps closer. "I'd really like to continue our conversation, maybe somewhere a little drier?"

You look up at him and he gives you this innocent shy look. He pulls it off so well, even when you know better than most that he's not as innocent as he seems. "Your hotel room should be pretty dry."

"Yes it should be. Maybe we should share it, y'know, so yours doesn't get all messy."

You raise your eyebrows at him. "Messy?"

He bites his lower lip harder and nods. "Wet clothes laying everywhere can be such a hassle."

"I guess we should get going then huh?"

"Yep." He wraps his hands around your waist and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his hips and he looks up at you with the most loaded expression you've ever seen. His hair is starting to curl out of it's wet plastered down position and he grins. "Let's go get these clothes off."

End

------

Thank you so much for reading! Please reblog and share.

*****Disclaimer: none of my works should be posted anywhere outside of my linked accounts. I do not give permission to repost with or without credit to my accounts. Please notify me of any reposted fics.*****

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mckinlily · 3 years

Text

tagged by @void-tiger (thanks for the tag <3)

roses or daisies:

uh...both? Idk, I’m kind of a wildflower or at least variety kind of girl. Mixing big flowers with little flowers and other florist type stuff? Go for it. My team at work got me flowers when I had surgery last year, and they were really cool and sort of autumn-y but I know nothing about flowers so I have no idea what they were.

classical or lofi:

uhhhhhh...so I had no idea that lofi was a thing until just now. I know enough about classical music to appreciate it as an art form, but honestly my taste in music is super basic and just...bad. Music for me is mostly just background stimulation so I can focus on something else, so super predictable, all sounds the same pop music? Exactly what I’m here for. Won’t distract me.

sunrises or sunsets:

Sunsets. Does anyone really like sunrises better who isn’t trying to hard? (don’t answer that, I think I have members of my own family who do). But I love the spontaneity of a good sunset. Being able to just glance out the window and see a wonder of nature while you’re cooking dinner or whatever is great. Also sunsets are warmer.

honey or lemon:

Honey. It’s just so pretty and a unique color and watching it drip down all viscus and smooth...

coffee or tea:

I actually don’t drink coffee, so this is a pretty obvious tea. But I especially like herbal teas in the winter because they’re hot and just holding the mug is comforting and warms your up, but they don’t have all the sugar and richness of hot chocolate so they feel refreshing too.

enemies to lovers or friends to lovers:

Seeing as my favorite ship dynamic is “1000% committed to each other forever and no matter what + Mutual Awe/Respect” and THEN a dose of “Wait, what, you like me back????” I am definitely a friends to lovers girl. Honestly, stories that skip of the establishing deep friendship part often just feel off to me.

I don’t really like enemies to lovers if they’re actual enemies. But like, mutual irritants to lovers? “I started out annoyed with you but now we’ve gotten to know each other and oh crap, I think I have a crush”? THAT I can get behind.

rainy days or sunny days:

Sunny for sure. I don’t like when the sky feels too close and confining when it’s raining. And I just need the sunlight to feel like...awake and like a human haha. But I do like a big, powerful thunderstorm with warm rain. Unfortunately, we don’t get those where I live now. Just cold rain storms that feel like spikes of ice.

jupiter or mars:

SATURN. This answer is informed entirely by 3 year old me who read a “our solar system” book and immediately started making up fanfic about it got really into the solar system and cemented Saturn as my favorite planet. I was really angry as a 3 year old that Jupiter beat out Saturn as the biggest planet, so Jupiter is forever on my “bad” list. And Mars is just dry and boring. No, I have not updated my opinions since I was 3 years old.

aphrodite or athena:

Athena, obvs. Most my life, my goal has been 1) be the smartest person in the room and 2) know EVERYTHING. I’ve only recently learned the value of say...be kind. Which is actually FAR more important, but I still really like knowledge and learning everything I can.

Also, I love pretty and beautiful things, but sex and romantic love aren’t really my thing haha

rome or greece:

I’ve always gravitated a bit more towards Greece. Rome feels just too bureaucratic and “rigorous engineering” to me. I like the more open ended science-y and artsy vibe of Greece. But then, I’m a woman so I’d probably hate actually being in either ancient society. Instead I’ll just study it from a nice, safe, several centuries distance.

sun or moon:

Oooo, both are good but probably the sun. It has so much COLOR to it and so many interesting properties and mysteries (How is the corona so hot? What exactly cause sun spots? What’s up with the magnetic field). And like again...COLOR. Did you know that the element helium is named about helios because it was first discovered as mysterious lines in the spectrum of the sun. We didn’t find helium on earth until much later. Spectroscopy is awesome.

1920s or 1990s:

well I existed in the 1990s, so clearly that makes the 90s much better. Also, I never quite got what was the appeal and glamour of the 1920s. I will say the 20s fashion is better than the 90s fashion so there is that.

blizzard or thunderstorm:

Oh boy. So blizzards SOUND cool, but then it’s cold and I think about having to DRIVE in the blizzard because this is Colorado and what, you think we’re going to close for a silly little thing like snow? The after effects of the blizzard, when it gets all quite like it only can when there’s lots of snow, and the streets have cleared off enough but most the snow is still untouched? That is much better. And sorta magical. Although still cold.

I...think I like thunderstorms. I did as a kid, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen a good one. Also high winds freak me out now, which is new. Idk why.

midnight memories or made in the am:

[googles] Ooooooh, so these are One Direction albums? Uh....I’m trying to think of what One Direction songs I like, but I’m only thinking of That’s What Makes You Beautiful which kinda annoys me these days so idk

sage green or vanilla white:

...are these more albums? Screw it, sage green. Although not my favorite shade of green, it is my second favorite color so there.

folklore or lover:

Like the Taylor Swift albums, right? Honestly, for a while I couldn’t get into lover, but I listened to folklore for like a month straight. betty made me literally stop the car to listen because “wait. is this about what I think it is??? is it?????” I also really like cardigan, and I listened to seven on repeat for weeks.

But I recently--like just two weeks ago--started to listen to lover, and I like it too. The Man is just on POINT. I like the miss americana song and nice to have a friend.

Really, it just depends on the mood. Lover is more peppy and bubbly, and folklore is more low key, almost melancholy, and little waves lapping at the beach.

told you my taste is basic

croissant or macaroon:

Croissant. I like the idea of macaroons, but I haven’t really loved them in practice. On the other hand, flaky conduit for butter and carbs?? Sign me up!

ballgowns or pantsuits:

I would LOVE a ballgown if I had a place to wear it to. Why do we have fancy things to dress up for anymore? I want swishy and curvy and soft fabric and jewels....

I can not honestly see myself ever wearing a pantsuit.

hades or zeus:

I’m pretty hooked on Lore of Olympus right now, so Hades. But then, even in the source material, all the gods are jerks but Zeus makes them look like model citizens, so definitely Hades.

platonic love or sensual love:

[squints] “sensual love...” is this an allo thing??

Ahem. Platonic love. Emotional connection. That’s what I’m all about. I want it SO BAD and to see it portrayed in deep, loving detail in movies and books ALL THE TIME. Also, theoretically I like the idea of like cuddling and hugs, but some of my family really HATE it, so I find it hard to be touching someone and not worry they’re hating it or that I’m invading their space.

light academy or cottagecore:

I....what? I have no idea what this is. Is this a home aesthetic?

Fun fact: despite considering myself a fairly artistic person, I SUCK at interior design. I try and I don’t know what it is, but I am SO BAD at it. If someone could decorate my room/house to look better than if a 9 year old went at it, I would so grateful and it would a VAST improvement.

please help me

#personal #ask things #kinda?#at this point i'm just writing in the tags out of habit

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shaineybainey · 4 years

Text

“Noble Intentions”

Lab Rats [T]

The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.

** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **

tagging: @vcnting @cecespuffs @quimbionics @verified-dumbass @clockradio93 @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @aaaaahhhhh1234 @serpent-princess

VI: And In Time These Things Shall Be Revealed

Tasha doesn’t think she can ever get used to this. She’s heading down the lab, right where Donald said he and Douglas will be, and just the act of standing still makes her feel like she will explode. Her husband didn’t give much information over the phone. All he said was that she needed to get back home, something happened, Chase was hurt, and Leo was kidnapped.

Her mind keeps zeroing in on those things: Leo kidnapped, Chase hurt.

She feels like she would pass out with how lit her nerves are with these alarming developments.

She thinks she might be a bad person for thinking it, but she’s not as worried about Chase as she is with Leo. It’s probably because Donald said that Chase has been taken to some superhero hospital, a place where many are trained to treat the kind of injuries he sustained.

There’s some assurance that he’s in good hands.

But her baby. Her baby…

She marches into the lab as soon as the doors open. The whole floor is electric with activity and overwhelming worry. When she gets in, she finds her brother-in-law hunched over the cyberdesk, frowning as he’s lost in his own task.

Meanwhile, her husband looks at her from a conversation he’s having with a man who comes across as strikingly familiar. “Tasha,” says Donald, exhaustion heavy under his eyes. He smiles. “You’re here.”

“I came as fast as I can,” she says, eyeing the tall blond in the red suit.

“Tasha, this is Tecton. Tecton, this is my wife Tasha. Leo’s mother.”

Tecton nods, smiling. “How are you doing?”

Tasha only watches him. “I’ve seen you before. You look familiar.”

“Probably Leo’s comic books. He’s the same Tecton,” Donald explains. “He’s a superhero. Turns out, they’re all real.”

Tasha nods, still unconvinced. It’s then she notices the teenage girl in magenta. “Kylie, right? Or is it Kayla? Thunderstorm or something like that?”

“Close enough. I’m Skylar Storm, Mrs. Davenport,” Skylar says, holding out her hand. She frowns as Tasha shakes her hand. “You know who I am.”

A small smile breaks through Tasha’s features. “Leo got me one of those small plush toys of you from a comic con they went to last year. For my desk at work,” she admits. “He says he got you because you’re cool and cute.”

It stuns Skylar for a second before a grateful smile comes to her face.

“Do we have any news yet about Leo?” Tasha asks her husband.

“No,” says Donald. “We’ve tried several times to ping his location using his phone, but it’s not working. My suspicion is that it got fried when he was attacked.”

“He was attacked?”

Donald nods wearily. “A man came to the island pretending to be a representative, asking for the transponder. He found Chase, Chase led him to the transponder…” He sighs. “Chase shouldn’t have trusted him. The man had superpowers. He wreaked havoc in the island and hurt a lot of people. Plus, he stole my invention.”

“You’re going to have to stop blaming the kid, Donnie,” Douglas chimes in, still engaged in his hack. “If the security on the island had been tighter, he wouldn’t have been able to come in.”

“Chase should have known better than to let that guy in.”

“He’s 18.”

“Exactly! He’s 18!”

“Donald!” Tasha intervenes, fired up once again. “You can’t just blame everything on the kids every time! You have as much to do about this!”

Donald blinks, bewildered. “Why are you blaming me?”

“Because if you had put as much work into protecting the kids in the island, in protecting Leo, as much as you’d protected Adam, Bree, and Chase from Krane? We wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“It wasn’t just my fault!”

“Does it really matter whose it is? Chase is in the hospital, and my son is missing,” Tasha heatedly points out. “What’s pointing fingers going to do to undo those things?”

She sees that her husband’s mind turns with more things to say, with things to justify himself with. However, exhaustion stops him from engaging in a fight.

That, and she thinks a small part of him agrees with her point.

It comes back to her then that they have company. She glances at them, sees the wary expression on their faces, and sighs. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have seen that,” she tells the two. “I’m just scared, that’s all.”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Davenport,” Skylar says. “It’s understandable.”

“How many hours since?”

“17 and a half, on my last count,” Douglas reports.

Tasha nods thoughtfully. They have just a little over 30 hours left—which feels like both long enough and too short a time.

“We’ve been doing our best to track the man who took him, too,” Tecton says. “Unfortunately, he hasn’t used his powers since we last saw him so there are no infrared trails to follow, but as soon as he does, we’ll be able to locate him.”

“What about that thing that he stole? Can’t you track that?”

“We tried,” says Douglas. He casts a loaded glance at his older brother before adding, “It’s a prototype, so it didn’t have any tracker on it. It hasn’t been used either. This guy is laying low for some reason.”

That only worsens the dread Tasha feels. She thinks about her son, thinks back on anything useful he could have told her, but nothing. She sighs, burying her face in her palms. “This guy,” she starts but doesn’t know if she has the strength to finish. “This guy, is he… Is he known for hurting children?”

Tecton and Skylar exchange glances, and Tasha feels like her heart has sunk. “We still don’t know why he took your son,” Tecton says. “If he sees use in him, it’s very likely that he will keep him alive.”

“Did he say anything why he took Leo?”

Skylar hesitates at first, looking at Donald for permission to continue.

“Say it.”

“He…He said because he didn’t kill Chase, Leo…was the payment.”

The breath in her lungs leaves her. She’s reminded of the time Krane took the two of them and used them to pressure her husband. This new enemy has what he needs from them; it doesn’t make much sense for him to do what he did. Does he need him to keep them at bay, to stop them from coming any closer?

Maybe that’s what it is. He’s using Leo as pawn.

Still, it devastates her that she has no way of making sure her child is alright. She wants to cry, because thoughts of how he is and how horribly his captor must be treating him are scaring her. “Who’s this guy? What do we know about him?”

“Not much. He goes by The Incapacitator,” Tecton answers. “His abilities are all energy-based. Before this moment, all he’d done is antagonize superheroes so we don’t know how he got his abilities.” A frown furrows his brows. “Although, there was a rumor going around that what happened to Victor Krane was his handiwork.”

Donald frowns. Even Douglas stops what he’s doing out of intrigue. “What do you mean it’s him?” Donald asks.

“The League caught wind about what happened, and we looked at the details of it,” Tecton shares. “From the autopsy report, it seems like both he and his top soldier were offed by energy blasts. Those burns… We’re still doing a follow-up, of course, but—”

“No, no. That was S-2. Those burns are from him,” Douglas says. However, he’s beginning to doubt it. “Leo told me that’s who he saw.”

“If he’d seen that Incapacitator guy before…” Donald’s frown slowly clears as a thought occurs to him.

That makes Tasha even more nervous. “What?”

“Leo. He didn’t look that scared when he saw him.”

“Wait. You think they know each other?” Skylar asks as Donald hurries over to the cyberdesk.

“I don’t know. But he didn’t seem too scared.”

“So, what, is this an inside job?” Tecton asks.

“Leo would never help a bad person do something wrong,” Tasha tells the superhero.

“No, no. He won’t,” Donald says. “He wasn’t scared, but he seemed very upset that he was there.” After a few clicks, the surveillance from the quarters comes up on the screen. He points at it as the interaction between Leo and the supervillain plays. “Look. He doesn’t feel the need to get away from him. Even when I told him to run, he didn’t.”

“He does seem really angry,” Skylar observes.

“And disappointed,” Tecton adds. He crosses his arms. “How do they know each other?”

“Incapacitator threatened to hurt me, but Leo asked him not to,” Donald explains as the video plays further. He sighs, putting his hands on his hips. “He did offer to open up the case just so the guy won’t burn my eye out.”

“Maybe he did it to protect you,” Skylar offers.

“Maybe.”

“No, but look – he tried to hurt Leo, too,” Douglas points. “Why would he do that if they’re working with each other?”

“Yeah.”

“It just doesn’t make sense. Leo’s a good kid. Why would he take part in a heist?”

“Has he been acting strangely lately?” Tecton asks. “It’s not beyond Incapacitator to manipulate others, especially a teenager.”

Donald sighs when the answer comes. “He’s been very upset with me these past few months,” he says. “He’s angry that I didn’t hire him on as a staff member for the bionic academy. He said he thinks he’s earned the right to be one.”

“Do you think he’d go as far as helping a supervillain just to get that point across?”

Donald thinks about it a moment. Then, he shakes his head. “He will complain and sulk, but he would never go that far.”

Tasha gasps at the surveillance.

Seeing that they’d gotten to the part of Leo’s abduction, Donald hurriedly pauses the video then minimizes it. “I’m sorry, Tasha,” he says contritely. “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

“No, no, no. That guy…” She frowns. “Put it back up. I want to see his face.”

Though confused, Donald does as she’s asked.

Tasha stares at the image for a few more seconds. Then, she feels as if her legs had lost strength.

“What?”

It’s been a while, but – is it really him? “Joel. That guy. His name is Joel Jones.” She looks at her husband. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”

For a moment, Donald only stares. Then, he chuckles. “And I thought my dating history was terrible,” he comments. “Really, Tasha. I would have never pegged you to be the kind of person to date a man with superpowers. A terrible one at that. You could’ve done better.”

“Mm,” Douglas eyes Donald dryly. “The kids and I have always thought the same about you.”

“No, no, you don’t understand!” Tasha tells them. She huffs, feeling like her world is tilting upside down even more. “I didn’t know any of these things about him. When I met him, I thought he was just some college student from a nearby university.”

“He’s been an active supervillain since he was a teenager,” says Tecton.

“Well, I didn’t know that,” Tasha says defensively. She sighs. She should have listened to her mother. “If I had known that, I wouldn’t have gone out with him.”

Douglas shrugs. “I mean, you don’t have to go out with him now.”

Tasha glares. “Yeah,” she says, “but he has our son.”

“Wait,” Donald says. “What?”

“You mean…”

Tasha nods. “This Incapacitator,” she tells them. “He’s Leo’s father.”

The room lies motionless for a painfully long moment. Then: “The guy who broke into my island is your ex?!” Donald shatters the silence.

“I didn’t even know he’s still around! Everything was going well with our relationship. We were going to get married during spring break in Las Vegas, and then he vanished,” Tasha recounts, simmering. “I lost contact with him the same year, and he’s never shown up since.”

“But he knows you have a son together,” Tecton asks.

“I told him the night before the wedding,” Tasha says. “He looked shocked and conflicted, but I didn’t think much of it because I was nervous about the whole thing, too.”

“Maybe it was him that eliminated the two bionics, then,” Skylar says to Tecton. “He probably knew Leo was in danger, so he took them out.”

“But how could he know where we were then? We were hiding,” Douglas says. The answer hits him immediately. “He was on his phone that afternoon. I told him several times to put it away because we might get tracked—”

“So he does have contact with Incapacitator,” Tecton says.

“I mean, I didn’t know he’d put out a hit on him like that.”

“Leo would never do that,” Tasha defends her son. “Look. I know it seems like he’s in on these things that his father did, but he’s a good kid. I worked hard to raise him as a good person. He would never be involved in murder or robbery willingly like you’re suggesting!”

“We’re not saying that he is,” Donald says.

“Yes, you are! Donald, how could you—” Her shoulders fall as defeat presses on her heavier and her eyes sting. “How could you all even suggest that Leo’s a bad guy? My son has risked his life so many times to protect his siblings and to protect our family. Even when other people are mean to him, he stayed a good kid.”

She slowly collapses to the floor, Donald attempting to catch her by the arm. At that point, the tears come. “He just wants to help people,” she says, wiping them with the back of her hand. “How could you just turn on him like this?”

For a second time, the room lies motionless—only this time, it’s weighed with remorse and sympathy.

Donald sits beside her, putting an arm around her. “I’m sorry, Tasha,” he says gently. “It did seem that way. I’m sorry. Leo’s not a bad kid, I know he isn’t.”

“You know he’s willing to die for any of us. How could you even agree that he’s in on this?”

“I know. I’m sorry.” Donald looks up at their guests, back at his brother, and then says, “We’re going to find him. It’s important to me that we bring him home. I believe you. Leo made that deal to save me.”

“I apologize, too, Mrs. Davenport,” Tecton says, sitting down to meet her eyes. “I didn’t mean to make it sound like he assisted him. I got carried away.”

Tasha frowns at Tecton, still offended by the things he insinuated. However, instead of becoming angrier the longer she looks at his face, she finds that a faded memory only becomes clearer. “I have seen you before.”

“Sorry?”

“Joel’s car. He was dropping me off after a date one night. When he stepped out, I looked through his glove compartment for a tissue, and—I saw a planner with your picture on it.”

“A planner?”

“It looked like a planner. There were dates in there, notes…” Tasha’s watery eyes narrow. “I remember seeing information about you and four other people. One of them even upset me. He has a picture of a blonde girl.”

“Blonde.” Tecton looks at Skylar. “Solar Flare?”

“He’s probably been keeping tabs on you guys since then,” Skylar suggests. “Isn’t it around that time that the League of Heroes was re-established?”

Tecton nods. “Is there anything else you remember, Mrs. Davenport?”

“Nothing much, except that he got upset when he saw I was looking through it.”

Tecton sighs. “That’s always been the way he operates. Most of the time, he tells us he’s still around by leaving destroyed sites or dead bodies. He’s very sneaky and really good at hiding.”

“So, what is he, some sort of superhero assassin?” Tasha asks.

Tecton shrugs, unsure himself.

“You guys were able to follow him to the island,” Donald notes.

“It’s because he struck somewhere else first.”

Donald nods, understanding. “One of my buildings.”

“He wanted that transponder.”

“There was something else,” says Tasha, lost in thought. “There was a picture of something. It was like a pyramid, with this marble-looking thing in the middle. That stayed on my mind awhile.”

“A pyramid?” Donald repeats.

Tasha nods.

Realization dawns on Skylar. “Oh no.” She looks at Tecton with dread. “The Arcturion.”

Tecton groans, getting up to his feet. “That power source has only ever been bad news.”

“What’s the Arcturion?” Douglas asks.

“Alien power source. Kills any human that touches it, drains any non-human of any abilities,” Skylar answers.

“Except this time he doesn’t have to touch it.” When others turn to him, Tecton says, “The energy transponder. He can draw infinite amounts of power with it. If he finds the Arcturion, he can transform into a living nightmare and actually turn earth into a graveyard for superheroes.”

“Great. Another guy bent on leveling all of us,” Skylar laments. “Once we get our hands on that Arcturion, we should really just football toss it into the sun.”

“That can be arranged.”

“I still don’t understand why he took Leo,” Douglas muses. “If all he needs is the transponder, why would he take him?”

Donald shrugs. “Spend some time?”

“Yeah, but why would he go as far as hurting him?” Douglas stares thoughtfully at the cyberdesk, his mind at work.

“What are you thinking?” Donald prompts.

“Something sinister,” Douglas says. He crosses his arms. “The good thing is, I don’t think he’s going to hurt the kid. The bad thing is, I think he’s going to hurt the kid.”

“What?” Tasha says.

“It’s all just suspicion for now, but I just don’t like the timing of everything,” Douglas says. “It’s mainly because of the transponder, but – everything’s aligned. I think this is the perfect moment he might have been waiting for.”

“Douglas, you’re the only one who’d been an evil genius here. None of us are following,” Donald says.

“Think about it,” Douglas says. “This guy had been waiting to bring down the superheroes for the longest time. He’s been collecting information regarding the top players in the business for as far back as, what, twenty or so years? But he’s never attacked. He’s also been keeping an eye on that, what is that, Arcturion?

“I think Tecton’s right. When he hits, he wants all the superheroes gone. He’s going big, and I think he’s going all out.”

“But like you said, Leo’s got nothing to do with this,” Tasha points out.

“Leo’s got everything to do with this,” Douglas says. “There’s nothing scarier than a person who’s got nothing to lose. If that’s Incapacitator, if he’s the kind who’s willing to die for his cause, it’s likely that he’ll do everything to get it done. And between the kids and him…” He shrugs somberly. “The choice is obvious.

“Leo’s not a bad person, Tasha. I believe that,” Douglas continues. “But you’re right: he loves us. He loves his family.”

“Family, including his father,” Tecton supplies as he starts to understand.

“Ever since the academy was founded, he’s been feeling betrayed. If he’s been talking to his dad, then his dad knows how much everything upsets him,” Douglas tells Tasha.

He pauses for a moment, debating whether he should bring up the next point. “When...Marcus was still around, I gave him this one order, in case something happens to me while we were acting on our plan: get the job done, however way you can.”

Tasha’s frown clears. “You don’t mean…”

“There might be a lot more to your ex’s plan than we initially thought,” Douglas confirms. “If he succeeds, the superheroes are wiped out. If he fails and dies by the superheroes’ hands while Leo’s watching—”

“We might force Leo to follow his footsteps,” Skylar supplies.

Douglas nods in confirmation. “It’s like that question, one versus the many. Who do we save?”

“This is not good. I hope you’re wrong,” Tecton tells Douglas. “Reports are that The Incapacitator turned into a villain after his parents were killed in front of him.”

“You said yourself he was manipulative,” says Douglas. “We have to get Leo out of there before he can plant any bad ideas into his head, before anything goes down.”

Tasha lets out a shuddered breath. What upsets her more than the possibility of her son being emotionally manipulated is the fact that there’s a base for her ex to build on.

Douglas said he’s been feeling upset. How come she didn’t know? She frequently asked how he was doing whenever she called, and all he had ever said was that things were fine. Had her focus been so off that she didn’t recognize it? Her brother-in-law knows more about her child than she did. How did it get to that point?

“We’ll do our best to gather more information,” Tecton tells the family, getting back to his feet. “I’ll see if the League has something on Incapacitator. I’ll check the archives.”

“I’ll double check with Horace, too, and see if there’s anything he remembers hearing from people who’s encountered him,” Skylar says.

Donald nods. “Please update us as soon as you hear something.”

Tecton nods. “Mrs. Davenport, Mr. Davenport,” he nods to Tasha then Douglas. After Skylar does the same, both of them exit through the garage.

Once they’re gone, Tasha releases a weary breath.

“Are you okay? I know this isn’t something to come home to,” her husband asks her softly.

Tasha shakes her head. “I want to see the kids, Donald. I don’t like them being so far away from us. Where are they?”

“In Philadelphia, but I’ve fixed the Davenporter. It’s fully operational. If we head out to Davenport Industries now,” Donald consults his watch, “we’d be at the hospital in probably 40 minutes.”

“You guys should go. The kids need you,” Douglas agrees. “Adam texted me not too long ago, told me Chase hasn’t come to yet. I think he and Bree are getting a bit too shaken up by this.”

“What about the search?”

“What about it? I’m here,” Douglas says. As Donald helps Tasha up, he says, “There’s only one thing we can do on our end, and I can do it alone. Tasha, I know you don’t feel right about it, but I have to access the record of Leo’s text messages. His phone is out, but I might be able to ping his dad’s. All I need is a number.”

Douglas is right: she doesn’t feel right about it. If Leo finds out, he might think that none of them trusted him.

Still, it’s the only way to save him from his father right now. “Fine. Do whatever you need to do,” she says. “Just make sure Leo never finds out.”

“Evil genius here. I know how to cover my tracks,” Douglas says as he begins the work through the cyberdesk.

“You ready?” Donald asks.

“Wait. Maybe we should pack up some clothes for the children. Maybe bring some toiletries, too. Bree will only use one specific brand of toothbrush, and Chase needs his eye drops when he wakes up.”

An appreciative smile slowly stretches across Donald’s face. “I’ll get clothes for Adam and Chase, and you get Bree’s things and what you think the kids will also need.”

“We should pack up things for us, too.”

Donald nods.

“Meet you back here in 15?”

“Okay.”

At that, Tasha parts from her husband.

“Hey, honey?” Donald smiles when she looks back at him. “It’s all going to be okay. Chase and Leo will come home.”

Tasha only stares a while, processing everything. Then, she forces a smile to her face – a form of thanks.

Once he goes, she leaves for the elevator.

It’s all going to be okay. Chase and Leo will come home, the words ring in her head.

However, only one thing echoes back: Yes – but will they be the same?

#Lab Rats #Mighty Med #chapter six #Noble Intentions #Tasha Davenport #Donald Davenport #Douglas Davenport #Tecton (Mighty Med)#Skylar Storm #The Incapacitator

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ask-de-writer · 4 years

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : Part 54 of 83 : World of Sea

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

Part 54 of 83

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

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Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions.

All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

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New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

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In the cabin, Barad asked her, “Is the female alright?”

Tanlin replied, “Aye, Luve. She wa’ egg bound. T’anks for getting t’e Doctor. ‘E knew better t’an m’ w’at t’ do.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Tanlin, my Heart. You’ve been spending a lot of time with your little ‘flock,’ but how did you know that she was hurting?” Barad asked curiously.

“Ever since Blind Mecat breathed on all t’ree o’ us, Oi feel t’em in t’e bock o’ m’ mind, all t’e time. Tis ‘ow Oi found oot t’eir names. T’ey’re like pictures. T’e male’s T’under’ead. T’e female’s Skye.” Tanlin furrowed her brow as she tried to explain what was clear to her but for which she had no proper words. “Sometimes, wen tis quiet, Oi can feel w’at t’ey feel or even see oot o’ t’eir eyes. ‘T works twa ways. T’ey feel m’, t’.”

Barad looked at his wife with admiring envy. “What does it feel like to fly?”

A faraway look grew into Tanlin’s eyes. “Tis a wondrous t’ing t’ feel t’e wind under wing an’ t’e fine adjustment o’ yer feathers t’ catch an’ use ever’ vestige o’ air. T’e shock o’ joy as ye ‘it t’e sea after a t’ousand foot dive. T’e cold rush o’ woter int’ yer lungs as ye fly t’rough t’e woter after a fish. T’e wonder o’ coming bock t’ nest an’ mate wit’ food t’ share.” She shook her head. “Oi’m sorry, Luve, but Oi connae really tell ye w’at tis like. T’ere are nae words t’at serve.”

“I think that you have told me very well, Tanlin, what I need to know.” Barad thought for a moment. “Forgive my asking this. Would they help us, if they knew what it was that we needed?”

“Oi dinnae know, Luve. Let m’ t’ink about ‘t for a bit,” she answered quietly, that faraway look in her eyes again. Barad waited.

The ship rocked under the gusts of a new thunder storm. Neither Barad or Tanlin made a move to get up. They were off watch together and knew that the ship was in good hands. Tanlin could feel Thunderhead settle into the nest with Skye and extend a wing over her. Tanlin let the link between the birds and herself strengthen. There was communication of a sort, without words. Desires and needs grew and were understood. A comfortable silent agreement was reached.

“T’ey’ll ‘elp us. We need t’ ‘elp t’em, t’. T’ey’ll be ‘avin’ a nest full o’ ‘ungry chicks soon, twa or maybe t’ree weeks. Flock works toget’er like close family. We ‘elp t’em wit’ t’e chicks, t’ey ‘elp us.

“Yesterday, T’under’ead saw sails t’ t’e sout’west. In t’ese latitudes t’ey cud only belong t’ t’e Longin.”

Barad sat up alertly at the news. “We can stay below the horizon and still shadow them! The birds can keep them in sight for us! Maybe we can think of some way to get word to Kurin that we need her help. . .” he trailed off. “Not much chance of that! She thinks that we tried to kill her. Why would she come to our aid?”

Now quite alert and in the present, Tanlin said, “Get Darkistry. She an’ Oi ‘ave worked sumet’in’ oot but ‘t lacked w’at may now be supplied.”

Barad quietly sent the cabin-boy on duty to get Darkistry.

While they were waiting, Barad said thoughtfully, “Nobody on the Longin will listen to or believe anything that I say or write. The snag is that any message will have to go Captain to Captain. You have a Master’s certificate. They might well believe you, Love. For the good of the ship, I will have to step down.”

Chapter 20: Taken!

Aboard the Longin, Kurin pointed to the sky. “Look, Captain! There’s that Wide Wing again! I’ve been seeing it from time to time ever since the thunderstorms started.”

Kurin’s voice shook Captain Mord loose from another daydream of the Grandalor’s hull smashing under the bow of the Longin and going down with all hands. Calmly enough that none would guess the thoughts that he was having, he said “It must have been blown north by the Coriolis storm that spawned these thunderstorms and fogs.”

“Speaking of fogs, Captain,” said Kurin earnestly, “Can we steer into the next big fog bank that we find? The water is so much calmer in the fog that it is easier to do the mapping.”

“OK, Kurin, we can do that.” He ruffled the girl’s hair and said sincerely, “It’s good to have you back with us, and well. That Doctor Worran worked a miracle. I’ll have the lookouts watch for a good fog patch.”

He went back to his duties and Kurin turned back to her class. “Sorry for the interruption. You don’t see Wide Wings all that often, and I kinda like to watch them.

“Now, about the mapping, we have a complex situation here. The Polar Circulator Current is over there to port, we have a rapidly changing depth and the leftover storm surge complicating the picture. This far north the tidal situation is not really too bad. You all had my lectures. Who remembers how to distinguish and separate these problems?”

Several hands went up. She selected a student and the class went on. After several hours, a fog bank was sighted. The Longin made for it. Class adjourned for lunch. As they were nearing the fog bank, Kurin noticed the Sea Hawk again, off in the distance. It was diving at some hapless school of fish.

The mist cut off all view of the world beyond the ship. Actually, you could not see the length of the Longin’s main deck, except occasionally when a wisp parted.

The absence of surface wind-ruffle made the sea a perfect teaching medium. The lack of distraction helped too. The only sound was the slow steady, once a minute beat of the hailing drum. It sent a warning to any other ship that might be trapped in the obscurity of the fog that the Longin was there. The class paused only long enough to put on warmer sweaters against the chill of the fog.

While Kurin had the class figuring out how far away the Polar Circulator Current was, a ghostly winged shape swept the length of the ship. It gave a whistling cry as it passed the bows. The paddle ducks in their coop squawked frantically at the Wide Wing’s call and beat against the net walls, trying to escape to safety. When it happened again, about ten minutes later, the class began to whisper and speculate as to what the Sea Hawk thought it was doing.

The antics of the bird were forgotten when the creak of oars in row-locks was heard out at sea beyond the bows. “Ahoy the ship! Ahoy! Mariners in distress! We can hear your drum, where are you?” the plaintive call came out of the mist.

Captain Mord and the entire class ran forward, along with the deck watch.

“Sound the drum to give them direction,” Mord called to the drummer. The drum began to sound every ten seconds, except when calls were being exchanged.

“What ship?” Mord called through cupped hands.

“Grandalor! She went down in the storm! We’re all that’s left! Help us!”

Silently, First Officer Kotance waved the drummer to stop. Mord Halyn nodded his agreement. At last the score can be evened. One poisoning, one whole ship. No survivors. His reverie was rudely broken.

“Captain! What are you doing?” Kurin exclaimed in shock.

“They were condemned by the Council,” he said shortly. “We will not aid them.”

Standing up to Captain Mord Halyn was one of the most difficult things that Kurin ever had to do. “Captain! These are mariners in distress! I remember the Council edict perfectly! Only Captain Barad, Master Selked, Silor and some of the officers were condemned! All of the rest are to be held for trial. They can’t get a trial if you let them die!”

“Kurin!” he shouted in both anger and shame, “Go aft to the map table! Now! Go!”

Shaken, Kurin went. Captain Mord had never raised his voice in anger to her before. She had barely got there when she heard shouting and scuffling. She could not see, but she could hear. The Grandalor sailors were being repulsed. Screams told her that someone had gotten hurt, maybe even stabbed.

A slight sound behind her caused her to spin about. With a jolt of surprise she saw Tanlin step down from the rail. She wore a shirt that was heavily padded on the shoulders and arms. It had many small rips and cuts in the pads.

Tanlin began earnestly, “Oi ‘oped t’at Oi’d find ye ‘ere. Oi ‘eard w’at ye said t’ yer Ca’tain an’ w’at ‘e said t’ ye. Oi ‘ope t’at ye mean ‘t because t’e Groit Law wa’ broken an’ nae by us. Oi ‘ope t’ prove t’ ye t’at t’e people t’at ye shared Announcement Feast wit’ are nae forsworn in t’eir vows.

“I’ ye wad save many lives, includin’ t’ose o’ m’ crew up forward, come wit’ m’ now.” She paused as there was another scream. “Oi swear upon t’e Dragons t’at i’ ye come wit’ m’ ye’ll come t’ nae harm an’ many’ll ‘ave cause t’ t’ank ye.”

Those honest gray eyes that Kurin had noticed so clearly on their first meeting, in her toy booth, now looked entreaty at her. “Ye’re our last ‘ope for justice.”

Kurin noticed that Tanlin carried no knife. Tanlin marked her glance. “Oi’m unarmed. Oi made ye a promise. Oi’ll nae break ‘t, nae force ye t’ come. Nane o’ us ‘as anyt’in’ dangerous. We came t’ beg, nae kidnap.” Kurin felt her world capsize. Another piercing scream from forward made up her mind for her. Her Captain. Her crew. Breaking Great Laws. She pulled her arms close and tried to shrink into a small ball as she thought of what she had to do. Kurin paused only long enough to write quickly on the map-table.

TO BE CONTINUED

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#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #Part 54 of 83 #World of Sea #Written by De Writer

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