w. @songbirdlucy
at. The Cottage
when. Lucille's birthday
Depois do dia dos namorados, tudo ficou pior. Ele tinha passado a encher seu braço esquerdo com colônia, porque era só ele sentir o cheiro de Lucille por perto que sentia que iria perder completamente a razão. Ela tinha se afastado de novo, então só aceitou e se concentrou em que não poderia ser afetada pelos erros dos pais, a sua filha. Dexter geralmente ficava com ela pela manhã e um pouco pela tarde, ensinando Anya a construir legos e conversando o máximo que conseguia sobre como estava sendo a escola. Nos momentos em que ela corria para os braços da mãe, ele ia para seus lugares secretos, mesmo que o atelié de desenhos parecesse um lembrete do que ele tanto queria, mas não poderia ter. Contudo, um dia, sua pequena saiu da escola com um calendário apontando para uma data que ele já sabia "Surpresa, papai, pra mamãe", ela falou o derretendo ali mesmo. Ele poderia não ter Lucille como sua, mas havia algo os interligando para sempre, a garotinha com os seus olhos, mas o sorriso dela.
Por três dias, eles não deixaram Lucille entrar na casinha na árvore de Anya. Os dois desenharam juntos e construíram flores de lego para arrumar o lugar em uma pequena festa. Uma festa de chá, como bons britânicos, com desenhos, até mesmo os antigos de Dexter, como os que ele fez imaginando como Lucille ficou grávida, e uma projeção com vídeos antigos que Dexter tinha de Lucille.
No dia em si, Anya o acordou super cedo para ajeitar os últimos detalhes e pedir por comida (a pequena tinha o seu apetite) até que Lucille apareceu nas escadas. Anya correu para os seus braços com o rosto avermelhado. — Come on, baby girl — ele se levantou com a filha nos braços e andou até Lucille — You planned a surprise for mamma for days, you should wish her happy birthday — ele se virou para Lucille e sorriu, a entregando a filha. — Ela quis fazer uma surpresa na casinha dela pra você. Ficou dias ansiosa pelo seu aniversário — quando transferiu a pequena para os braços da outra se aproximou de Lucille e lhe deu um beijo no topo da cabeça — Happy Birthday, love — e ele escutou Anya falando "Happy Birthday, mamma" baixinho contra o pescoço da mãe.
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When you work at a stressful job, you start finding joy in the little things. Like when the pen is smooth over the paper, making writing feel pleasant; or taking a break while it feels like the sky is falling, rain pouring over the co-workers rushing to their cars as you and others laugh at their poor attempts at trying to escape being wet. The sounds of the night, or the smell of nature. It's a necessity to keep yourself sane.
Lodi didn't expect to find something that would bring him joy so soon after everything was taken from him.
He knew the rain was still a thing—obviously! Rain is an atmospheric phenomenon; after all, as long as Earth and water exist, there will be rain— but the memories that came along with it were long gone. There were no laughs from workmates, no cigarettes being lit or warm drinks shared because of the coolness of the weather. No longer they need pens, and spending nights outside could be dangerous. What he knew didn't exist, but he was given freedom.
Nights in the countryside were changed for busy midnights at the multiple restaurants of the Last City, chatting with the many people living within it. Eliksni, Guardians, Cabal, whatever Xûr was… They all had different stories to tell, sharing their past over the warm food. He enjoyed listening to them, always impressed. No longer were there cultural differences between human races and ethnicities; instead, he now knew about beings that they would consider alien-like back in his time. And oh boy, their cultures do change a lot! He can't help but return every day, hoping for more stories, more of their languages, whatever they share.
And when dinner is over, when he says goodbye to the new friends he has made, he skips out of the restaurant, umbrella in hand. He cares too little for the water splashing on his pants and robes, knowing far too well that the moment he gets into his apartment, his clothes are going to be replaced with ones far more comfortable. Maybe none at all.
Lodi takes his time, appreciating each place he goes through, mental notes to go visit places he hasn't been in yet. New opportunities, new stories… The thought excites him—he had always enjoyed learning about new cultures, enriching his perception of languages. A mental note to visit Ikora's little corner another day, so he can ask about the meditation Guardians do, out of pure curiosity for the art. Pets a cat on his way home, and when the cat rubs against his legs, even if wet and dirty, Lodi bends down to continue petting the animal. Surprisingly that animals still exist, for the most part the same size and characteristics as they used to be centuries ago. Maybe he should bring it home… It wouldn't be worse than the worm Drifter keeps complaining about.
One glance to the side, and he sees one of his favorite stores open. He doesn't think twice and closes his umbrella before going in, delighted to see his latest favorite sweets still in stock. A greeting to the owner, followed by the exchange of Glimmer, and then walking back out.
By the time he's near his apartment, the rain has stopped, leaving a chill air hanging as he walks through the streets. A bag on one hand, an umbrella in the other. He sings a tune that he heard on the radio a few months back—or years now. He barely remembers it, and doubts he can find any record to listen to it again. One of the little disadvantages of the future, but they had survived enough things to consider it understandable.
With the apartment window in sight, light turned on, he cannot help but walk faster, just barely. There's a new excitement as he gets closer, climbing up the stairs to the place he calls home.
Slowing down when he's near the door, pulling out his keys, and entering through the door. Orion lies half-naked, half-asleep, on his couch. And when he realizes Lodi has arrived, he sheepishly rubs an eye, smiling as he pushes Helix off him, coming to greet him.
"Welcome home," Orion takes the bag and umbrella off him, pushing him with his hip towards his—their room. That still makes him feel all sorts of things inside, no matter how many times he experiences it. Time has far since blended together, he's not sure when Orion had moved in, but he's pretty sure that one day he simply started spending his time there and never left.
It's great. It was something that he never thought would happen, making him excited to return home each day. Back then, he let his car go at a slow pace, watching the stars as he returned home. They were the only things accompanying him through the night, warming his heart before letting sleep take him. He doesn't need to pretend that the stars watch him anymore; one of them crawls into bed to cuddle him and share his body heat.
Wet clothes come off with ease, stretching and feeling his muscles relax. Now warm and dry, he can feel the exhaustion in his bones, practically throwing himself onto the couch and making Helix twirl away to avoid being crushed. Now he matches Orion, only in his underwear, and comfortable.
The Guardian is quick to reappear after leaving everything where it was meant to be, crawling over his body and leaving a kiss on his forehead.
"Hello," Lodi laughs as Orion continues kissing him, pushing his glasses away with his nose. He kisses over the erupted veins of his eyes, pulsing with the energy of the Nine. Decides to tease the other man a little, tongue sticking out to lick his cheek.
"Hi," when Orion is satisfied enough, he replied, fully applying his entire weight on Lodi's body.
They stare into each other's eyes, the Emissary getting lost in the deep void of the Fated Weapon's orbs. How lucky he had been, to be thrown into the future so suddenly and yet be blessed with the comfort of a lover. One that had accepted all of his issues, and in return, had learnt how to help Orion with all that goes through his mind. Back in the past, he had thought of himself as insane, but the truth is, all about this new world was strange. He'd give it all to have his family back, his loved ones, but with the Nine not being cooperative, he can't do anything but accept his new life.
Almost as if Orion had read his thoughts, he scratched the side of his scalp, right behind his ear, and left a brief kiss on his lips. And oh, if Lodi is not easy to blush, hands sneaking down until they rest over Orion's hips, holding him close as he kisses back.
It's slow, meaningful, and Lodi can feel how Orion pours his heart out into the touch, a small smile forming against his mouth.
The rain continues pouring outside, and the two lovers turn off the light to continue their touches in the darkness of their apartment. Lodi breathes in and finds himself genuinely happy.
SCRIMGEOUR LIVES & ISSUES STATEMENT TO CONCERNED SUPPORTERS & VALENTINE’S EVE ATTACKERS !
speaking from the front steps of st mungo’s hospital, the ministerial hopeful widely rumored to have been tragically KILLED in the attack upon her home late last night had this to say to gathered reporters :
“ first and foremost, i ask for your forgiveness and understanding for my brief silence. last night’s attack at a dinner party i hosted forced me to take pause & evaluate my campaign. we lost several dear staffers and supporters, and we hold their loved ones close to our hearts as they navigate this UNBEARABLE tragedy. for those who are now on the mend from their injuries, we admire your ongoing strength and wish you all the best. i thank the magnificent healers of st mungo’s, who never cease to amaze me with their courage & quick response. no words can do my gratitude justice, however i will be donating a signficant portion of my recent campaign funds to the hospital. i look forward to collaborating with their board on future initiatives to promote safety, health and above all equitable care in our community.
i cannot lie to you all : at the time of the attack, i was frightened. the fear was qucikly followed by worry & sorrow. a cycle of emotions we are all too familiar with. for countless years, we have been forced to live with dark clouds looming over us, dimming the brightest of our days. cowards, who attack during periods of peace and celebrations. BIGOTS, who target school children - the most innocent of our community. they are the lowest of the low, and they simply must go. i feel the sorrow & the worry still. but more than that, i am angry. i am angry at the men before me who let fear decide our fates. we can no longer play nice or play pretend with those who threaten our community. anyone who threatens our democracy, our livelihood, must be eradicated. as your minister of magic, i promise i will not let our lives be ruled by a reign of terror. i will fight back, tooth and nail, until every death eater sympathiser is stripped of their power. i will lock them up and toss away the key. and TOGETHER, we will build a future of clear skies.
i am flavia scrimgeour and i am proud to be in the running to be your minister. i will fight for you, your children, and your children’s children. i will fight to put an end to this cycle of war, despire, intolerance. and with your support, i will WIN. to those who wish me dead - better luck next time. “
CWS for this ficlet: blood and injury, character death (final death), last kiss, hurt no comfort, angst, blood and injury. no happy ending
Guardians have conditional immortality. That was one of the first things Lodi had learn upon arriving in the Last City.
They managed to stay alive via their Ghosts, small sources of light that would bring them back, power borrowed from their Traveler and savior. In return, it was common knowledge that a Guardian without a Ghost meant a final death, even if such a topic was often not talked about past whispers he had heard in the streets. Then again, Ghosts usually hid, so Lodi had hardly worried.
Hardly.
His years of experience in the field have taught him not to expect too much, to be quick and resourceful when things go awry. Out there, things can get crazy; unexpected events are the only thing he should expect. But never this. Please, don't let it be this.
Helix laid in his hands, light long gone, shell shattered into a million pieces. Even if he tried, even if he inspected each particle of dust in search of all the singular segments, he had no power to bring him back to life. And it hurts, pain coming in waves as he remembered the friendliness of the Ghost, always happy to chat whenever Orion was unwilling. But he knows he's just lying to himself, even as tears fall over the broken shell. He refuses to look up. Refuses to face the truth.
"Do something," he no longer prays to the God he grew up with. He doesn't believe in fairy tales, nor in books. But the Nine mock him, magnetic waves swirling in the air around his body, making him choke on his breath. They laugh, he can tell. The Fated Weapon, defeated, with a successor coming up. If they did it with Orin—with him—they'll do it again. "Please."
Nothing. Not a word, not an action. His lungs are closing up, his chest is hurting from the lack of oxygen, and hurt. He cannot lose everything, not again. The Nine already played him once—why do it again? Did they think it was fun, the way humans lived? Had they not earned an ounce of humanity after all the centuries they had existed peacefully?
He doesn't dare to look up. He knows what he'll see: red. Red, darker than wine, darker than any blood moon he has ever seen during the nights he left it all to look at the stars. Redder than apples, than his old cloak, redder than—
"Lodi?"
Orion's voice shakes. Lodi cries, crawling over the body of the Guardian, a sword deeply impaled in his abdomen. He's slightly thankful that he wears dark clothes, but after putting a hand near the wound, his hand is stained with crimson hues.
Dark eyes usually devoid of much emotion now quiver as they look up at him, body trembling as the blood loss drains his body heat. He's dying, and there's nothing he can do about it. If only he hadn't come with him, if only he wasn't been there as a distraction, an easy target, then Orion would have lived. And yet fate chose this route. Damned Nine. Damned the Light. He was nothing but a puppet to all of them, wasn't he?
But not to him. Never to him.
He's careful as he holds him, dragging him over his lap without a care of possibly dirtying his clothes. They had tainted things worse. They will not be able to anymore. But right now it isn't about him.
Lodi cannot help but be gentle; hush him as tears fall from his eyes. He knows it too, that this is the end. He wishes for Orion to die happy, knowing he was loved and cared for. He'll get over it, as he was forced to do so before.
"I'm here," Lodi whispers, leaning until his forehead rests upon the other one's. "I'm here, Orion. It's okay."
"'m sorry…"
The linguist chuckles, then leaves a kiss on his nose.
"Not your fault. It will never be."
He shouldn't. It would hurt in the long run, he knows this. But he doesn't listen to the logical part of his brain, not now. Hands cradle Orion's face, thumb rubbing away the tears falling down his cheeks. A comfort in his last moments, his body losing life slowly.
Then he bends. A soft kiss is placed on Orion's lips, one that he is quick to reciprocate with the strength he has left.
For a moment, they're back at Lodi's apartment, half naked except for underwear and socks, as Lodi retells the things that he has done today. What he has found. The food from the Last City he has tried. As always, Orion listens, smiling as he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him little by little, away from any pain in his body that he might have from a day of work.
He slips, all life leaving his body as he gets comfortable in Lodi's arms one last time.
This time, he doesn't wake up, no matter the hours Lodi expects him to do so.
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today is my boyfriend and i's anniversary ^__^ 🤍💐 i am truly the most blessed girl in all of existence to be able to share my life with the sweetest handsomest funniest kindest silliest warmest guy in the whole entire universe 🥺🌸🍀 i love you so so much my knight in shining armor, and i am lucky beyond words to be loved by you too! ☺️🩷