Inspired by: aragorn, geralt of rivia, matt murdock, spike spiegel,lucien vanserra, vash the stampede
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full name: ballister boldheart faceclaim: riz ahmed
dob: february 3 zodiac: aquarius
occupation: fugitive protector—unemployed
birthplace: lower district of aurelia
orientation: gay
song: "way down we go" - kaleo film: children of men
education: trained by the kingdom that later condemned him
temperament: guarded-dominant
MBTI: INFJ alignment: chaotic good
abilities: elite swordsman, tactical combat, adaptive engineering, relentless survival instinct
hogwarts house: gryffindor emoji: ⚔️🩸
· · ─ ·taken connections · ─ · ·
ambrosius goldenloin ᯓ first love | the person who knew him before the world fell apart. despite everything that happened between them, bal never truly stopped loving him.
nimona ᯓ chaos incarnate | found family | she reminded him how to laugh again when he thought that part of himself was gone for good.
· · ─ ·present · ─ · ·
most people here don’t know who he is and bal is fine with it. His name means something different here. no titles attached to it or broadcasts. no kingdom waiting to judge whether he succeeds or fails. Here he is just a man trying to figure out what comes after surviving the collapse of everything he once believed in. he settled into the city quietly beside the little family he found in the aftermath of ruin, building something small and fragile out of shared meals, tired laughter, and the kind of love he never expected to survive long enough to have. still, some part of him aches for the guard life.not the politics or the institute. but the purpose of it all. the simple structure and the certainty that every morning he woke up knowing exactly who he was supposed to be. there are days he catches himself standing a little straighter when he hears sirens in the distance or instinctively scanning crowded streets for danger without realizing it. sometimes he misses the armor so badly it feels physical; like phantom pain from a missing limb. he doesn’t know what his future is supposed to look like anymore. and hat terrifies him more than being hunted ever did. but maybe healing isn’t about becoming who he used to be. maybe it’s about learning there’s still a life worth building after taking off the armor.
· · ─ ·past · ─ · ·
ballister boldheart was born in the lower districts of aurelia, raised in a cramped apartment tucked above rusted streets and factories that never seemed to sleep. he never knew his mother beyond scattered memories and fading photographs; she passed when he was still too young to understand what loss truly meant. after that, it was just him and his father.
his father loved him. but love, in their home, was never soft. not when his father had spent most of his life working himself to the bone just to survive, and somewhere along the way, survival became the only language he knew how to speak. he was stern, demanding, and impossible to impress. mistakes were corrected sharply and weakness was not comforted. bal grew up learning how to swallow his pain quietly and push himself harder than everyone else before the world could decide he wasn’t enough.especially because the world already had. they were commoners. the kind of people the kingdom overlooked unless it needed something from them. but bal was stubborn…and worse, hopeful. while other boys dreamed of escaping the lower districts, he dreamed of becoming a knight. protecting people. standing for something good. his father called it foolishness, insisting the kingdom was never built for people like them. maybe that was exactly why bal wanted it so badly.when the institute accepted him as the first commoner ever admitted into their ranks, the entire kingdom treated him like some kind of living experiment. proof that the system worked. nobles smiled at him with teeth instead of kindness, waiting for him to fail so they could say they had been right all along. bal refused to give them the satisfaction. he trained harder than anyone else, endured every insult in silence, and carried the weight of impossible expectations on his back until it became second nature.
and despite everything…he loved it there.the guard gave him purpose. structure. belonging. for the first time in his life, bal knew exactly who he was supposed to be. every bruise, sleepless night, and impossible training exercise felt worth it because he had finally become something more than the frightened boy from the lower districts.he had earned his place. and somewhere along the way, he found people worth staying for. among them was ambrosius goldenloin, the kingdom’s golden heir. beloved. brilliant. everything bal wasn’t supposed to stand beside, let alone fall in love with. but ambrosius looked at him without pity or mockery. with him, bal didn’t feel like a symbol or a mistake. he just felt seen.for the first time in his life, the future felt certain.
then came the assassination.one moment shattered everything. the queen now dead. blood staining marble floors before he could even process what had happened. overnight, the kingdom’s golden success story became its favorite villain. the same people who once praised him turned vicious with terrifying ease. broadcasts painted him as a monster. the institute erased him like he had never belonged there at all.what destroyed him wasn’t just the betrayal.
it was the realization that their belief in him had always been conditional.somewhere between the running, the fighting, and the disasters that followed, bal found something he never expected to survive long enough to feel again:hope. he found it in nimona.
chaotic, strange, impossible nimona crashing into his life like a wildfire refusing to leave it untouched. she reminded him how to laugh again. how to survive without becoming cold and how to keep going even when the world insisted you were monstrous. through her, through the truth they uncovered together, bal slowly began finding his way back to himself…and eventually, back to ambrosius too.his name was cleared in the end. the truth about the queen’s death finally exposed for what it was. but surviving something like that changes a person. the kingdom could apologize all it wanted; it could never give him back the life it destroyed. still, somehow,hel found something better waiting in the ruins.not glory or knighthood. just people who loved him anyway.
· · ─ ·future · ─ · ·
he doesn’t know what his future is supposed to look like anymore, and for the first time in his life, he’s trying to be okay with that. there’s no kingdom demanding something from him now. no title to earn and no impossible standard of survival. just a quiet life beside the people who chose him even at his worst. for now, that's enough and honestly? he thinks he’d like to keep it that way for now.
Billy couldn't remember the last time he'd been to a ball. Maybe never. The music drifted through the gardens beneath strings of glowing lanterns, couples danced beneath the stars, and everywhere he looked people were laughing, talking, or simply enjoying the warm summer evening. It was the kind of event that reminded him why he liked Elias so much. For all its mysteries and impossible magic, it was still a city full of people who knew how to celebrate.
He'd been meaning to ask someone where they found the courage to dance in front of this many people. He hadn't worked that part out yet. Instead, Billy had settled for wandering between the refreshments and the dance floor with a glass of sparkling cider in one hand, happily people-watching. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as another couple spun past.
"I've decided," he announced to no one in particular, "that whoever invented dancing definitely had significantly more confidence than I do." He laughed softly to himself before taking another sip from his drink.
ballister slipped back into the gardens with damp hands and a quiet sigh. he was smoothing the front of the jacket ambrosius had insisted looked perfect on him as he walked. he'd only stepped away to find the washroom and now he was trying to remember exactly where he'd left his husband.his gaze swept over the sea of lanterns, colorful gowns, and whirling dancers before a voice caught his attention instead.
"i was gone all of five minutes," ballister said, stopping beside the stranger with an easy smile. "long enough to lose my boyfriend in a crowd, apparently." he followed billy's gaze toward the dance floor, watching as another pair gliding effortlessly across the stone."i really think the confidence is mostly an illusion.everyone looks graceful from the outside. on the inside, i'm fairly certain half of them are counting steps and praying they don't tread on someone's foot." he smiled to himself while scanning the crowd again for a head of the one he was searching for "though.. suppose i shouldn't complain too much. mine would probably drag me out there anyway, and somehow convince me I was enjoying myself before the song was over."
Ambrosius had been ready fifteen minutes ago. Not that he was counting. He adjusted the cuff of his jacket for what had to be the twentieth time before glancing toward the bedroom door again. They weren't late. Not yet. They still had plenty of time to make it to the Summer Solstice Ball before the festivities truly began. That didn't stop him from checking the clock anyway.
"...Bal?"
His voice carried easily through the apartment, warm rather than impatient. "You've been getting ready for almost an hour." He wandered a little closer to the bedroom, stopping in the doorway instead of walking in. Experience had taught him that interrupting Ballister while he was getting dressed usually resulted in Ballister insisting he wasn't ready yet.
Which, judging by the continued rustling inside the room, appeared to be exactly what was happening. Ambrosius smiled to himself. "I just want to point out that if we miss the opening dance because you're deciding between jackets again, I'm telling everyone you were the reason." There wasn't an ounce of accusation behind the words. If anything, he sounded amused. His gaze drifted toward the bouquet of summer flowers sitting on the table by the front door. He'd picked them up that morning without much thought. They reminded him of Ballister, bright and full of life, and he'd figured they might brighten the apartment after the evening was over.
"You know," he continued, leaning lightly against the doorframe, "when I said you looked handsome twenty minutes ago, that wasn't an invitation to keep improving on perfection." He folded his arms loosely across his chest. "I've been ready this whole time, and it's becoming increasingly difficult to be patient because I'd very much like to spend the evening showing off my incredibly handsome boyfriend."
the bedroom door slowly open, and there bal stood lingering in the doorway for a moment, one shoulder resting against the frame as sapphire fabric settled around him, the silver embroidery shimmered beneath the apartment lights, each careful stitch catching as he shifted his weight and picked up his gaze. “you” a faint chuckle escaped him while he shook his head “this is your fault..you buy me something this beautiful…” his fingers pinched lightly at the embroidered shoulder of his coat, “...then act surprised when i spend an hour making sure I don't somehow ruin it?” his eyes flickered over ambrosius slowly..very slowly. taking him in. “..actually…” the corners of his mouth edge into a small smirk as he spoke “ i think you knew exactly what you were doing” his hands found the front of ambrosius' jacket, smoothing the lapels with unnecessary care. “you picked the color because you knew it'd make my eyes stand out…and the embroidery because you know I secretly like when people stare.” his voice softened into something almost dangerous.. “and you tailored it so well that i can't even pretend it doesn't make me look good.” he took a moment to looked down at himself for a second before his eyes met his again..he had really out done himself. “you spoiled me..and have completely ruined my wardrobe” he whispered with an entirely affectionate accusation. "now every other outfit i own will feels disappointing. " bal took a step closer, until ambrosius would have to tilt his chin just a fraction to meet his eyes.” and then you, stand there calling me handsome..” he murmured..speaking slowly while his thumb traced lazily along the edge of ambrosius' collar. “...do you have any idea what that does to me?" a quiet laugh escaped him while his own cheeks gave him away.
"no.i don’t think you do." he answered his own question while leaning in, his lips brushing ambrosius' ear instead. “you made me feel beautiful…...and that's a very dangerous thing to do to your boyfriend." he finally pulled back just enough for their eyes to meet again.
"so..you know..if we're late..."his fingers hooked beneath ambrosius' chin, tilting it ever so slightly while a playful gleam danced across his face" i'm telling everyone it's because the man who bought me this outfit wouldn't stop looking at me." with absolutely no shame whatsoever, he stole a slow, lingering kiss before smiling against his lips.
"...though..." he whispered while he kept his lips lightly hovering above his, "...if you keep staring at me like that, i might start believing you bought this just so you'd have an excuse to undress me with your eyes all evening."
ballister drove another nail into place before leaning back to inspect his work. the wooden boards weren't perfect, but they were sturdy enough to hold, which was what mattered. hiis sleeves had long since been rolled past his elbows as sawdust clung to his shirt and work gloves while he moved down the line of damaged fencing. no one had asked him to fix it and truthfully, he wasn't even sure who owned the property anymore. but he'd passed by it enough times during his morning runs and after the storm, the broken section had started to bother him. so here he was with his hammer tucked through his belt, measuring tape hanging from a pocket, and a growing pile of replaced boards at his feet. ballister reached for another plank and paused, squinting down the length of the fence.
“..that looks straight..” he tilted his head to double check “...mostly straight." he gave a small nod to himself before setting the board into place and reaching for his hammer once more.
eric had been halfway through walking max when he'd spotted someone moving along the damaged stretch of fencing. at first he'd assumed it was the owner finally getting around to repairs, but the longer he watched, the more familiar the broad shoulders and rolled sleeves looked. he slowed to a stop, one hand loosely wrapped around max's leash as his gaze drifted over the growing pile of replaced boards.
"you know, most people just complain about stuff like this and keep walking."
the corner of his mouth twitched upward as he stepped closer, glancing from the fence to ballister and back again. he wasn't much of a handyman himself, but even he could tell the difference between a fence that looked ready to collapse and one that might actually survive the next storm. "looks good, though. mostly straight is basically professional-grade from where i'm standing."
the unexpected voice caught him off guard as ballister found himself glancing over his shoulder.
“...yeah?” a faint crooked smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “guess i've never been very good at walking past a problem.” he rested the hammer against his shoulder for a brief moment, following eric's gaze to the fence as if inspecting it through someone else's eyes would help him figure out any issues. there was a slight lean in one section..and one board sitting just a hair higher than the rest. “...i’'ll take 'mostly straight.” he grined as he spoke “that's about as high as my construction career goes.” with a small shrug he nudged one of the old splintered boards aside with the toe edge of his boot.
“i don't even know who owns the place” he admitted. “i've been here for 2 days and haven't seen a single soul."
dewey blinked. he was the first person to offer help. okay, there was something entirely strange about that. didn't most people want to help? dewey probably would have helped if he'd have noticed it. he didn't notice broken fences like the other. probably because he was the one breaking the fences and not the one with the money to fix said fence he broke. "really? that seems rude of other people." okay it probably wasn't. dewey shrugged, walking up to the fence and holding the board in place. "makes no difference to me. i've gotten into more trouble before. trespassing places i shouldn't have gone." sneaking into DNA sealed vaults belonging to his uncle. it didn't matter to him.
"makes sense to me." he wouldn't get concerned over something like that. probably the person that lived here couldn't afford to get it fixed or if they could maybe they didn't have time to fix it themselves. "yup. all the time." dewey thought back to the family tree he'd seen in webby's room the first time they met—donald and the blank space that was for della there like a mystery he needed to solve. how he wanted to be the hero that found their mom. it had been his responsibility in finding out the truth. "right now responsibility is mostly family oriented, but still." same thing. and honestly, his family was kind of falling apart in a way that only he could fix.
"well, i have a small solution to that conundrum," he replied. he couldn't hold his hand out for a handshake, but that was okay. "i'm dewey duck," he introduced himself. "there now we're not strangers." because that was his fool proof way of not being strangers with someone. "
ballister let out a faint surprised chuckle “well.” he adjusted the hammer against his shoulder. “.. actually…thats remarkably solid solution.” his smile lingered as he looked at the boy holding the board steady “well dewey, nice to meet you” he shifted the hammer into one hand before offering the other, sawdust dusting his palm. “i'm ballister boldheart” the handshake felt strangely important for two people standing in someone else's yard repairing someone else's fence.
“...congratulations,” he added with amusement. “we've officially been promoted from two strangers committing suspiciously wholesome trespassing... to two acquaintances committing community service without permission.” he shook his head, laughing at himself. “still can't decide if that makes this situation better... or significantly more incriminating?” with dewey keeping the board in place, ballister lined it up and gave the first careful tap of the hammer before driving the nail home.
“...you know” he added after a moment, eyes still on his work, “i like that.” words came out easier than he'd expected. “most people would've asked why i was doing this..you just... accepted that sometimes your brain points at a problem and says, 'ours now.'" he found himself smiling at himself
“i’'ve found life gets a little lighter when someone else understands without needing an explanation..don’t you think?”
he had spotted him almost immediately. which wasn't particularly surprising or hard. he could find in him in any crowd. ambrosius had promised he'd stop by the market before heading home, and somehow had taken longer than expected, so now he was here. watching in from a far thinking very hard about vegetables. for a moment ballister stayed where he was, weaving through the crowd unnoticed as ambrosius studied a zucchini as if it contained ancient secrets, then an eggplant. then the zucchini again. saints above, he really was lost. a fond smile tugged at his lips as he slipped up behind him quietly, close enough to hear the dramatic sigh that followed. unbiased opinion. bal could barely contained his laugher as he slid an arm around ambrosius's waist from behind, pulling himself against his back before resting his chin lightly on his shoulder. “well, there's your first mistake” he spoke with a warm voice, words hinting with amusement. “you came to the market expecting unbiased opinions…you should know better" bal peeked around his shoulder to inspect the vegetables being held up. “mmmmm..the zucchini.” he answered immediately. “just because if you somehow lose a fight against a zucchini, i'm legally required to make fun of you for the rest of our lives." his hand squeezed gently at his waist. "which, for the record, is hopefully a very long time." his teasing grin softened before turning his attention towards the basket hanging from ambrosius's arm, confusion now across his face.
“...honey.” he questioned while tilting his face. "what exactly are we making?" tomatoes. potatoes. garlic.enough onions to feed half of elias. and now a zucchin? bal glanced up at him. "you said you were stopping for ingredients, not rescuing every vegetable that looked lonely."
The moment Ballister's arms wrapped around his waist, Ambrosius relaxed. It happened so naturally he didn't even realize he was doing it anymore. The tension left his shoulders, the confusion over vegetables momentarily forgotten as he leaned back instinctively into the familiar warmth behind him. "There you are," he murmured, a smile already spreading across his face. For all the people gathered around the market, for all the noise and movement, Ambrosius would have known it was Ballister without turning around. Some things had simply become second nature.
His hand settled over Ballister's where it rested against his waist, thumb brushing absentmindedly across his knuckles. "I'll have you know I was conducting very important research." The defense was immediately undermined by the fact he was still holding both vegetables like they had personally betrayed him. At Ballister's answer, Ambrosius let out a laugh. "A vote for zucchini. Noted. I'll try not to be offended that you think I can be defeated by a gourd."
His eyes softened at the mention of the rest of their lives. The words were casual but they still landed somewhere warm in his chest. He turned his head enough to press a quick kiss against Ballister's temple before looking back at the basket. Then came the question. His brow furrowed. "...I don't know." For a moment he simply looked at the basket as though he, too, was seeing it for the first time. Then he glanced back at Ballister. "I had a plan when I arrived but at some point I got distracted by comparing tomato sizes."
A laugh escaped him before he finally surrendered, lowering the vegetables into the basket. "You caught me. I was rescuing them." His free arm slipped around Ballister's waist now, pulling him a little closer despite the crowded market. "I'm glad you came looking for me," he admitted softly. His smile turned warmer then, something quieter and more vulnerable than his earlier teasing. "Though I suspect you mostly came to prevent me from accidentally buying enough produce to feed an army."
ballister's smile softened the moment ambrosius leaned back into him.tense shoulders finally relaxing. it still got him, somehow. after everything they'd been through, after all the years and impossible things that had happened between them, ambrosius fitting so naturally against him still felt a little like a miracle to him.his chin rested more comfortably on the other’s shoulder, and for a moment he simply stayed there, holding him while the market buzzed around them. “oh, there you are?” he teased quietly. “funny. i was about to say the same thing.”
the kiss against his temple made his heart stumble in the familiar way it always did. it was completely unfair.. ambrosius could smile at him and ballister would somehow forget how thoughts worked for a solid minute..he never understood how he could do that to him..even now. soft laugher escaped him as he peered into the basket. “honey, if comparing tomato sizes distracted you for this long, i’m genuinely worried about what would've happened if you'd made it to the fruit stalls.”
his hand found ambrosius's.. fingers threaded together without thinking with a softening expression “of course i came looking for you.” the words were simple, but there was something earnest underneath them. “i always will…no matter what" he pressed a kiss against the side of ambrosius's head, lingering for a second longer than necessary. “if you get lost, i'll find you. if you get distracted by vegetables, apparently i’ll find you then too.” his smile widened as he spoke “honestly, i could probably find you anywhere. you know. you're kind of impossible to miss.” not because of the ridiculous amount of charm, though those certainly didn't help. because ballister's eyes always seemed to find him first ever since their time training..his thumb brushed over ambrosius's knuckles. “ for the record,” he murmured, voice dropping softer, “i don't care if you buy enough produce to feed half of elias.” he turned his head just enough to catch his gaze. “as long as I get to come home with you afterward.” the teasing grin returned a heartbeat later, eyes gazing down at his lips for a split second “though i'm drawing the line at adopting a pumpkin. we simply do not have room for another orange thing in the house competing with nimona.”
"it has character and that's what's really important, right?" milo appears from behind ballister, arms crossed and grin wide as he takes a moment to appreciate the other's work. "hey, i have a bookshelf i've been procrastinating putting up if you're looking for odd jobs to do?" the teasing is only light, followed by a short chuckle before milo's back was discarded onto the grass and his own sleeves were being rolled up.
he crouches next to his friend, one hand correcting his glasses adn the other supporting his chin, elbow leaning against his knee. "so, what's the damage, sir? do you think we can save this fence and if so, how can i offer my assistance? i might look unimpressive but i'll give it my best shot."
ballister glanced over at the sound of the familiar voice and let out a faint laugh “character,” he repeated with his head titled to one side “that's a generous way of describing it.” still crouched beside the fence, he held the board in place and squinted down its length again before looking towards milo.”the bookshelf's a hard no, by the way. one questionable construction project at a time.” he shifted back onto his heels, hammer resting across one knee while he surveyed the damage.
“i think we can save it. most of the fence is fine. storm just knocked out a few sections and cracked some supports.” the board in his hands wobbled slightly as he spoke”...which may or may not be because i measured something wrong.” a small grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. ballister nodded toward the pile of replacement boards scattered through the grass.
“well if you're offering help, hand me one of those? and maybe tell me if this thing is actually straight.” he looked down the line again before immediately frowning. “don't tell me it's crooked.” a faint pause with pouted lips “actually, no... tell me. i need at least one honest person on this project.”
as much as he really didn't want to admit it, dewey was jealous of the people who had jobs. if only because it gave them something to do during the day. of course the second he had a job, he knew he'd be complaining about said job. it gave someone purpose for getting up every day, an excuse for getting out of the house, and of course money. not that dewey really cared about any of that because while he was living in a more modest house these days, he probably could—if he were talking to his uncle—guilt him out of some of that money. instead every day he walked around, trying to find something to do, someone hiring, somewhere to go and it was getting a little irritating.
he watched from across the street for a minute, the person fixing some kind of fence. honestly seemed like something he should probably at least attempt to assist with if he was going to be staring at the person. dewey crossed the street. "okay, i'm no expert or anything, but i don't think this is a task you can do on your own." he would have no idea what he was doing, however it was something to do. "do you want help?"
ballister froze mid-swing, hammer hovering awkwardly in the air as he heard someone speaking to him. "..mm" he glanced at the fence. then a the tools that lay scattered on the floor."...that's very kind of you..i think your the first person to ask" his gaze lingered on the repairs for a moment before a sheepish smile appeared. "in fairness..i do think you should know that this isn't my fence." he pointed vaguely toward the house behind it. "or my house." another gesture. "or my property." he chuckled lightly before conutining “actually sure who owns it.”
there was absolutely no shame in his voice when he admitted it. "i just kept running past it after the storm and the broken section started bothering me" he rested the hammer against his shoulder. "you ever see something enough times that eventually your brain decides it's your responsibility?" because that was apparently what had happened. his smile widened slightly.
"technically i'm a stranger repairing another stranger's fence." he glanced between the fence and the newcomer. "which means if you help, we'd become two strangers repairing a third stranger's fence." he paused for a second. "..when i say it out loud, it does sounds a little ridiculous. doesn’t it."
Ambrosius had been standing in front of the vegetable stand for nearly ten minutes. Not because anything was wrong. Not because he couldn't make a decision. But because somehow choosing what to make for dinner felt significantly more complicated than facing down a dragon. The market bustled around him, vendors calling out prices and children weaving between stalls while the scent of fresh bread drifted from somewhere nearby. Ambrosius barely noticed any of it. Instead, he stood with a basket hooked over one arm and a zucchini in one hand, studying it like it held the secrets of the universe.
"Right," he muttered to himself. "But what does one actually do with a zucchini?" The vegetable, unfortunately, offered no guidance. A tomato sat in his basket. Alongside it was garlic, potatoes, carrots, and what might've been enough onions to feed a small army.
In hindsight, he may have started shopping before deciding what he was actually cooking. With a thoughtful hum, Ambrosius set the zucchini down only to immediately pick up an eggplant. His brow furrowed. The truth was, he enjoyed little things like this. Normal things. There was something comforting about standing in a market deciding what to make for dinner. No battles to fight. No expectations to live up to. Just an ordinary afternoon and the possibility of a good meal.
Unfortunately, ordinary life came with its own challenges. Like eggplants. Ambrosius sighed dramatically before looking toward the nearest person. "Alright, I need an unbiased opinion." He lifted both vegetables. "Which one is easier to accidentally turn into dinner? And please answer as though my previous cooking experience consists primarily of not setting things on fire." His smile widened slightly. "A skill I'm very proud of, for the record."
he had spotted him almost immediately. which wasn't particularly surprising or hard. he could find in him in any crowd. ambrosius had promised he'd stop by the market before heading home, and somehow had taken longer than expected, so now he was here. watching in from a far thinking very hard about vegetables. for a moment ballister stayed where he was, weaving through the crowd unnoticed as ambrosius studied a zucchini as if it contained ancient secrets, then an eggplant. then the zucchini again. saints above, he really was lost. a fond smile tugged at his lips as he slipped up behind him quietly, close enough to hear the dramatic sigh that followed. unbiased opinion. bal could barely contained his laugher as he slid an arm around ambrosius's waist from behind, pulling himself against his back before resting his chin lightly on his shoulder. “well, there's your first mistake” he spoke with a warm voice, words hinting with amusement. “you came to the market expecting unbiased opinions…you should know better" bal peeked around his shoulder to inspect the vegetables being held up. “mmmmm..the zucchini.” he answered immediately. “just because if you somehow lose a fight against a zucchini, i'm legally required to make fun of you for the rest of our lives." his hand squeezed gently at his waist. "which, for the record, is hopefully a very long time." his teasing grin softened before turning his attention towards the basket hanging from ambrosius's arm, confusion now across his face.
“...honey.” he questioned while tilting his face. "what exactly are we making?" tomatoes. potatoes. garlic.enough onions to feed half of elias. and now a zucchin? bal glanced up at him. "you said you were stopping for ingredients, not rescuing every vegetable that looked lonely."
a morning jog was non-negotiable for leo. his training was a ritual he never got lazy with. discipline was the key to success. it's what his father had instilled into him and his brothers. it's what leo passed on to others he took under his wing. his solo training was the only time leo felt he had a moment to himself. the worries of elias could melt away for a second. there was no pressure to have it all figured out or be perfect. it was simply leo in his body, the greatest tool and weapon he had been gifted. the bright, warm summer sun kissed his tanned skin. his turtle side was more than happy to be basking in warmer weather again. he felt alive, dare he say rejuvenated even. leo wasn't one to make conversation when he was in the zone, but his curiosity did get the better of him. the sight of someone working on a random fence was odd. granted, leo had come from a world where fences weren't really a thing. at least not the white picket ones everyone dreamed of.
"looks a little crooked to me." leo replied, although he wasn't sure if the guy was asking for an answer. "if you like finagle it to the left a little i think it might be straight." leo wasn't exactly the best person to give straight answers either, but here he was.
ballister glanced over his shoulder at the voice that came from above, his brow lifting slightly "oh boy, well that’s unfortunate" he stood back up, taking a step back from the fence, squinting at it again before leaning one way and then the other "..now that you've said it, i can kinda see it."with a resigned sigh, he rested one hand on his hip and gave the board an accusatory look. feeling personally betrayed by his own failed project. "it was straight five seconds ago"
he walked over and nudged the plank where the stranger had suggested, checking the line again before taking another pause. " you know. I think i've been staring at this fence long enough to lose all sense of geometry." he offered a small smile before extending a gloved hand. "
🫂 PEOPLE HUGGING — generally speaking, do you feel very supported by the people in your life?
"these days? more than Ii ever thought i would. for a long time, i would've said no.not really.. because there weren't people who cared, but because i didn't know how to let them care. I spent most of my life believing support was something you earned through success, through proving your worth over and over again and the moment I failed, i expected people to leave.and some did. but those who mattered stayed.
so yeah. I do think i am supported, by the handful of people i'd trust with my life. and after everything that's happened, i've learned that's more than enough. i don't take it for granted. not anymore."
ballister drove another nail into place before leaning back to inspect his work. the wooden boards weren't perfect, but they were sturdy enough to hold, which was what mattered. hiis sleeves had long since been rolled past his elbows as sawdust clung to his shirt and work gloves while he moved down the line of damaged fencing. no one had asked him to fix it and truthfully, he wasn't even sure who owned the property anymore. but he'd passed by it enough times during his morning runs and after the storm, the broken section had started to bother him. so here he was with his hammer tucked through his belt, measuring tape hanging from a pocket, and a growing pile of replaced boards at his feet. ballister reached for another plank and paused, squinting down the length of the fence.
“..that looks straight..” he tilted his head to double check “...mostly straight." he gave a small nod to himself before setting the board into place and reaching for his hammer once more.
