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#anyway my dog is in my room again cause she kept pawing to come in cause my dad is watching tv so ill be ok hooray
chiistarri · 4 months
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call me a fnaf protag the way i struggle at night ✊️
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Happy Halloween all!
🎃👻🕷
Here’s my day 1 story for @romioneweek !
A Common Enemy
It’s more of a truce than anything else, really, between me and him. A sort of understanding that we both love the same girl and that there’s no compromising with her on both of us being in her life. There’s never been any real affection between us.
I mean, yeah, I sneak him scraps under the table when Hermione’s not looking, but she won’t consent to us getting a dog, and what’s a generous bloke like myself to do?
And okay, sometimes, in the winter he curls up on top of my feet, but that’s all selfishness on his part because his bed gets cold, and my feet are plenty warm without his help.
But make no mistake, Crookshanks and I are not friends.
We do, I suppose, have a lot in common. There’s Hermione, of course, and her regular reminders of our similarity in hair color. “My two favorite gingers,” she says when she comes home and sees us anywhere near each other.
And, as I found out one day late in sixth year, we have a common enemy.
I was stretched out on the common room sofa, pretending to study as usual, when Crookshanks slithered by me. Despite his crouched posture and the stealth with which he moved, the bell that Hermione had foisted on him rattled around his neck, creating a soft jingle in the otherwise quiet room. “Bit early for Christmas, isn’t it?” I teased as the cat passed me. His beady little eyes flickered to me for just an instant before he refocused on whatever he was hunting—an airborne piece of dust, most likely. Hermione didn’t let the poor beast out of the castle enough to chase real prey like mice and birds.
Not that I cared, of course.
Anyway, I went back to my book to resume my feigned interest in schoolwork, and the common room was silent until there was a sudden scratching sound. I whipped my head around just in time to see Crookshanks land back on the floor, his yellow eyes fixed on the wall just above where his claws had scoured the crimson wallpaper. I sighed and got to my feet, intent on a Reparo for the damage he had caused. “Nothing but trouble, are you?” Crookshanks gave an indignant meow in return, and I pointed my wand at the wall.
That’s when I saw it.
It was tiny. No bigger than an owl treat, probably, and if it weren’t for Hermione’s cat staring a hole through it, the bugger would probably have just blended right into the pattern of the wallpaper and I’d’ve been none the wiser. But now that I’d seen it, I couldn’t look away as I retreated slowly back toward the couch.
Crookshanks afforded me another quick glance before he pounced again. This time, he knocked the spider from the wall, and Hermione entered the common room just in time to hear my very manly shriek as it hit the floor. She raised her eyebrows in amusement as she looked between me and the cat, who was now batting the wretched insect between his paws.
“Oh, who’s a good boy?” Hermione cooed, reaching down to scoop up Crookshanks before squashing the spider beneath her shoe. “Did you save Ron from the big scary monster?”
I glared at her, but it was hard to properly convey my annoyance when she was looking at me like that, all bright eyes and dark lashes peeking out from behind the orange mass of fur she called a pet. And she had just saved my life, after all.
“Laugh all you want.” I pouted. “You can fix the wallpaper yourself, then.”
Hermione kept a squirming Crookshanks tucked under one arm as she vanished the dead spider before turning her wand to the wall and repairing the scratches. She took a step closer to me and hoisted the cat higher on her hip as she said, “See, aren’t you glad to have him around?”
The damn cat gave me the most smug look as he curled into Hermione’s embrace, as if he knew that’s exactly where I wanted to be. “Yeah, he’s alright, I s’pose.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Why is it so hard to admit that you like him?”
I asked myself that question frequently, but about her. Why was it so hard to just admit that I liked her? Hermione gave me a soft smile as she set Crookshanks back on his feet, and he scurried off to some unknown corner of the common room, the sound of the bell growing distant as he retreated.
“I’m headed to dinner,” she said, saving me from answering what was apparently a rhetorical question. “Want to come?” I nodded and fell into step beside her as we exited through the portrait hole. Our fingers bumped against each other as we walked, but for once, neither of us shied away from the contact.
Things were different after that, between me and Hermione. And between me and Crookshanks.
As if he knows I’m thinking about him, the cat hops up onto my desk and scatters the post-mission reports I’m drafting, looking up at me with those same big yellow eyes and a pleading purr that I’ve grown powerless to over the years. Deciding that’s my cue to quit working for the day, I reach out and scratch him under the chin where I know he likes it. “Hey, killer. Get rid of any monsters for me today?”
He nuzzles his head up under my chin just as there’s a snort from the doorway. Hermione shakes her head, but there’s a grin on her face. “Mortal enemies, you two, after all this time,” she teases.
“Yeah,” I agree as Crookshanks rolls over onto his back, affording me access to his tummy that even Hermione isn’t privileged with. “Can’t stand each other, really.”
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ficsilike-reblogged · 3 years
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Sea Salt: One
Summary: As a noblewoman from a small (and nefarious) kingdom in the Stepstones and quiet Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Elia Martell, she is accustomed to being looked through rather than looked at. The only exceptions to this rule are Prince Oberyn and Lord Willas Tyrell but they are often far from the dark shadows of the Red Keep or Dragonstone. She finds comfort in her quiet friendship with the princess and the delight of the darling royal children. But as Prince Rhaegar places a wreath of blue roses in the lap of Lady Lyanna Stark and rebellion starts to rage, she knows she will have to live up to her reputation. But luckily, she seems to have two allies lurking in the shadows.
Pairing(s): Eventual Willas Tyrell/F!Reader/Oberyn Martell/Ellaria Sand
Word Count: 10.2k (these are all going to be monster chapters. I apologize)
Rating for this chapter: T for a bit of violence. but not much. my over-use of italics and my love for ASOIAF lore. If you have any questions or need clarifications, please just ask! I’m playing fast and loose with a bit of it, and a few ages, too. But I’m always happy to answer any questions you have!
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(banner by my darling @starlight-starwrites) 
Chapter One: The Salt of the Tears 
Or you can read on Ao3!
For all its supposed charms and storied history, Westeros had very few redeeming qualities. Most of the noblemen Y/N was forced to associate with during her time in the kingdom were filled with intolerable hubris and a lack of humor. They also liked to joke about her ‘little kingdom’ in the Stepstones as being inferior and nefarious—it would have been better if they could actually choose what they wanted to call her home. It seemed to be impossible to be both inferior and nefarious. And everything was so…bland this side of the Narrow Sea. She was used to Skilliga where people could trace their ancestries to Yi-Ti, the Summer Isles, the Bone Mountains, and beyond, all of them proud and varied. All of them fleeing the constrictions of their old lands and finding freedom in the islands and the homes they dug into the rock. They were proud to defend themselves in any way that was necessary and gained riches and notoriety with their famed corsairs. And, finally, the clothes were itchy and constricting and the food was largely unseasoned.
But there were a few bright spots in her time in the Seven Kingdoms. Mostly, it was Princess Elia Martell. Her nearest and dearest friend. Accepting the position had not truly been her decision anyway. She had been woken up by her uncle Hammond, the king of their little kingdom, nearly four years ago with him tossing a heavy scroll at her head.
“Tywin Lannister is offering to open up trade with Westeros again if you behave yourself at Court and marry some lord they choose. I’ve had your things packed. You leave at sunup.”
And Y/N knew that she was serving her kingdom by becoming a faceless peon for some pompous princess and then, perhaps, a broodmare for some strange man—but that did not mean she was going to be happy about it. In fact, she had been fully prepared to be the worst lady’s maid the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen…until Princess Elia.
Elia with her quick wit and soft smiles.
Elia with her musical laughter and unfailing loyalty.
Elia. The best friend she had never dreamed of ever gaining.
They would spend hours together in either her rooms or Elia’s chambers at Dragonstone, speaking of their lives before the Targaryens, laughing about the charades of courtly life, and dreaming about their futures.
“What type of queen will you be?” Y/N asked with a tease as they passed a jug of sweet grape juice between them. Rhaegar was out…somewhere, probably pondering some ancient prophecy that didn’t make any sense, and Y/N was happy to not have to pretend to care about anything that came out between his thin lips. “Quiet and mysterious?”
Elia laughed and shook her head. “I have had my fill of being quiet, I think. No. I do not want to be a quiet queen.”
“No? Then you may be the boisterous queen, always telling Tywin Lannister than his ideas are preposterous and he is not the true king of the Seven Kingdoms.”
Elia shushed her, fighting another bout of giggles and reached for the jug but knocked one of the numerous pillows from the bed, revealing a small blade atop the blankets. “Another one?” Elia asked with a huff. She handed the blade over with a frown. “Honestly, dear heart, you seem to think that everyone means you harm.”
Y/N took it and carefully hid it away in another place with a shrug of her shoulder. “I have met only three people who I would trust to not stab me through the heart when I’ve turned my back. It is better to be prepared than to be caught unaware.”
“Please tell me that you do not still keep half a dozen blades on your person when we go to court or the market.”
“Of course not.”
“Oh, good-”
“It is now a perfect dozen.”
Elia walloped her with a pillow, fighting another laugh. “You are a menace.”
“I am your most trusted confidante in this wretched city,” Y/N retorted, knocking the pillow away with a smirk. “You need better friends.”
Elia shook her head, still smiling. “You are enough trouble for several lifetimes, dear heart. You and Oberyn will be the cause of all my grey hair before Rhaenys reaches her fifth nameday, I am sure of it.”
Y/N smiled at the sound of the Dornish prince’s name. It had been too long since she had seen him. While he had been somewhat sent into exile after the suspicious death of Lord Yronwood, the youngest Martell had hopped across the Narrow Sea to become a sellsword for a moment after growing bored at the Citadel and visiting his sister at Dragonstone where he had met Y/N and she had somehow endeared herself to him. “He will be joining you for the tourney at Harrenhal, yes?”
The princess nodded. “It will be good to see him. I always hated knowing he was off in Essos.” Elia sighed before she glanced at Y/N. “And I’ve received word that Lord Willas will also be in attendance.”
“Do not.”
“Do not what?” Elia repeated, leaning closer to her friend with a conspiratorial smile. “I simply mentioned his name.”
“You know exactly what you are doing!” Y/N growled, knowing it would only mean Elia had won—as she always did.
Willas was the firstborn of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, and Lady Alerie Hightower. He’d been an only child for most of his life, his mother having trouble carrying to term several times before little Garlan was born over a decade later. And Y/N was very fond of Willas, just as he seemed fond of her. He was happy to make her laugh when he was at court, seeking her out when he should have been speaking with Rhaegar and gaining the crown prince’s favor for The Reach (not that it was necessary) or attending some vapid luncheon with other noblemen.
“He is a good man. And you deserve a good man.” Elia patted her shoulder, soft smile on her face.
“He is the heir to Highgarden-”
“Mama?” A quiet voice at the door had them turning to see little Rhaenys, rubbing her teary eyes. Her kitten, little Balerion, was sitting dutifully at his princess’ feet and quickly kept pace on his little legs when she walked into the room.
“Come here, sunshine,” Elia said, opening her arms toward her daughter and carefully scooping her up onto the bed. She gently pushed Rhaenys’ hair away from her damp cheeks and kissed her forehead. “Tell me what is wrong, my love.”
“Another nightmare?” Y/N asked. Balerion meowed until she bent down and helped him onto the bed where he quickly curled into a ball in the princesses’ laps.
Rhaenys nodded, a few more tears trailing down her cheeks. “It was scary, mama. A big dog came in and…” she hiccupped and Y/N felt her chest squeeze at the little girl’s pain.
Elia hummed and patiently waited for Rhaenys to finish telling her what she had seen in her dream. While the massive dog her mind had conjured scared her, it was the manticore that crawled from beneath her father’s bed that truly frightened her. Its vicious tail going straight for her throat over and over again until she woke up with little Balerion pawing at her nightgown, trying to stop her cries. “It is just a dream, sunshine. You are safe here. I will not let anything hurt you.”
Rhaenys sniffled and nodded but continued to hold her mother tight. “I know, mama. You and Lady Y/N will protect me.”
Y/N reached out and curled the lone strand of silver hair that Rhaenys had around her finger. “Of course we will, princess. Our world needs its Sunshine.”
The little princess finally turned her head out of her mother’s chest and smiled at Y/N, tears still gathering at the sides of her eyes. “I’m your sunshine, too?”
“You are,” Y/N said with a smile, gently tugging at silver strand before letting it curl back around her ear. “You are my sunshine, your mother’s sunshine, your grandmother’s sunshine, uncle Oberyn-”
“And father?” Rhaenys asked. “Am I his sunshine, too?”
“Of course,” Elia said and then kissed Rhaenys’ hair again. “Your father loves you very much.”
The three spoke in hushed tones for a little longer—just long enough for the little princess to fall asleep in her mother’s arms. Elia was careful as she slid off Y/N’s featherbed and kept her daughter in her grasp.
“I suppose it is time for us all to retire.”
Y/N nodded and offered to help put Rhaenys back to bed but was waved off by Elia, as she knew she would be. Elia was always fond of the little, quiet moments she stole with her daughter. Away from the pretenses of courtly life and the expectations of her husband’s father. This was Elia at her brightest, her strongest. When it was just her and her sunshine.
Y/N often wondered if she’d ever have moments like that—moments of soft reprieve from the trials of courtly life, either here in Westeros or back home in Skilliga, near the Stepstones in the Narrow Sea. She also wondered if Rhaegar would ever pull his head out of his ass and realize that Elia was his wife and not some thoughtless vase he could ignore and only pick up out of necessity. She wondered what the future held. For everyone.
But, whatever it did, she hoped it treated Elia well. It was what the princess deserved.
**
Y/N gently rubbed Elia’s back with a frown. It was the third time this morning that they had to have the wheelhouse stop so the princess could empty her rolling stomach. She quickly handed Elia a bit of juice and a damp cloth as she stood tall again with a wince.
“It was like this with Rhaenys,” Elia murmured, a hand cradling her stomach. The maester had confirmed she was with child again, the day before they set off toward Harrenhal for this stupid tourney. "You remember, don't you?"
Y/N did. And she worried then, too. But the Maester had also found that this would be Elia’s last pregnancy. Her body would not be able to handle another. And Rhaegar had only nodded once before turning and excusing himself from Elia’s chambers to play his stupid harp, looking out his chamber windows with a familiar (and consistently grating) pensive look on his face.
“The dragon must have three heads,” was all Y/N heard him say when she was eavesdropping on the conversation the husband and wife shared later that night. He was obsessed with some sort of prophecy. It was as if he didn’t care that his wife was of fragile health and pregnant with his child.
Y/N hated him.
Hated the stupid, silver-haired prince.
“We can stop for the day,” Y/N said. “It is not as if the tourney will be held up by your absence. You need your rest.”
Elia shook her head and told the wheelhouse driver to continue on and the large caravan started to move again. “The sooner we arrive, the sooner I can rest. You know I do not sleep well on the road.”
Rhaenys, the little sun, had slept through most of the travel, curled up on the velvet pillows on the other side of the wheelhouse, barely aware of any goings-on aside from when they stopped for the night or meals. And that was the way Elia preferred it, sheltering her daughter from courtly life and its trappings.
Elia reached out and patted her hand with a small smile. “It is worth it, dear heart.” She leaned back and shut her eyes for a moment. “I know when I hold this babe in my arms, all of this will seem like a distant memory. All of it…all of this is worth it.”
Y/N was not convinced. But she nodded anyway. “Tell me, do you think Ser Arthur will beat Rhaegar this time?”
Elia laughed.
**
The tourney was the largest the Seven Kingdoms had seen in generations. Ten days filled with jousting, melees, archery, axe-throwing, and horse racing. And feasting. Every night ended with a feast in Harrenhal’s great room, filled with piles of food and jugs of expensive wine and ale.
It was exhausting. And much too far from a substantial body of water for her to feel truly comfortable. She needed the sea, the water. Thankfully, Rhaenys also found the tourney lacking and was happy to accompany Y/N to the edge of the lake known as the God’s Eye and they enjoyed the chilled water and allowed the hungry fish to nibble at their ankles.
Y/N had grown up watching horse races, bet on boat races around the islands of Skilliga, and even participated in a few events herself. This tourney was…boring. Excessively so. Elia, more than once, had to nudge her to keep her from dozing in their box. Thankfully, the company was good.
Arthur Dayne was a kind man, a fine knight, a member of the fabled Kingsguard and Sword of the Morning. Y/N was sure they would sing songs of his deeds long after his soul had left. And he had the honor of knowing he was the crown prince’s dearest friend. (Y/N did not think this was an honor but did not voice that to the kind knight and tried not to hold it against him.)
But Y/N saw how his eyes softened whenever Elia would appear. His easy smile was near-permanent whenever she would whisper into his ear with some joke or story. He was in love. A soft, gentle love with a bedrock foundation. It was so different than the lukewarm platitudes Rhaegar dealt her within the confines of their marriage.
Maybe in a different life, Elia and Arthur could have lived a happy life in Dorne together. Far away from the Mad King’s machinations and paranoid delusions and Rhaegar’s apathy. But now, in this life, Arthur had to be content to simply stand at her back in their royal box when he was not participating in the tourney—right now he was readying for his turn in the melee and Elia had wished him luck before he departed.
Ser Lewyn, Elia’s uncle and knight of the Kingsguard, was another knight assigned to their box and they knew they could speak freely in his presence. He was a man of quick wit and fiercely protective of his niece and her baby. He was one of the few people who knew of Elia’s second pregnancy and was quick to have a servant fetch her something to eat or drink if needed. “And you are as lovely, as always, Lady Y/N,” Lewyn would say with a wink. He was such a flirt—but it was always in good humor. She knew him to have a lover in King’s Landing to whom he was devoted.
For the moment, Elia and Y/N were alone in their box, unguarded. She knew that anyone would be foolish to try anything but it still set her on edge when she noticed the fabric at the back start to sway with someone coming up. Her hand slowly slipped toward one of the small blades she kept in her boot but then she recognized the man slipping into the box. It was Oberyn—three days late and smirking. He winked at Y/N and pressed a finger to his lips before he snuck up on Elia and roared with laughter when she nearly leapt from her seat when his hands clapped over her shoulders. “You brute!” She yelled as she smacked his arm. “I have told you a thousand times to cease your sneaking!” But she laughed on the last word, betraying her happiness to see her younger brother.
Oberyn was just as dashing as he had always been, just as confident. And just as unattainable. He was more than a handful of years older than her and as much as his reputation preceded him, was very picky on whom he lathed attention.
She was too young for him. He has said so himself not a year ago at their last meeting when Y/N had all but thrown herself at him, too into her cups to stop herself.
“You have so much life ahead of you. I would not dare think I was worthy of usurping your time when you have the world at your feet.”
It was a gentle rejection, but a rejection all the same. He was a good man, leagues far and away from the men who would jump at a chance to bed a young highborn girl or take her to wife. But that did not mean her heart did not clench every time he smiled at her or whispered a joke in her ear at the expense of the tourney knights or an unrepentant letch of a lord who caught his eye between jousts. He told them of his adventures with the Second Sons and how he founded his own sellsword company, too, after he grew tired of the politics within the Sons’ hierarchy while Elia and Y/N told him of the ‘excitement’ of the tourney and the actual excitement of the appearance and disappearance of the Knight of the Laughing Tree just the day past. King Aerys, raging and paranoid, had even sent Rhaegar to find the mystery knight and unmask him but the dragon prince came up emptyhanded.
“And I see little Lord Willas is here,” Oberyn said, dipping his head just so to indicate the box opposite them, across the jousting grounds. Willas was sitting at his father’s side, the shining wood of his cane visible even from a distance as it leaned against the seat beside him.
It was only Y/N’s third day in the kingdom when she attended the tourney when the accident happened. She knew Willas to be too young to truly be participating, he was only a few years older than Y/N, but Lord Mace Tyrell had pushed him. When Oberyn met him on the field, it was an accident. A tragic accident. Willas’ leg was crushed beneath his horse and Oberyn had been mortified, sending the Dornish healers he’d brought with him to the tourney to care for the young lord.
But the damage had been done.
Willa’s leg was in constant need of a brace and he walked with a cane. The Tyrells blamed Oberyn for crippling their heir. Well, most of them did. Willas bore no ill-will toward Oberyn and was often seeking him out when they were both present. “I am not sure if it is to spite his father or to truly try to mend the divisions between Dorne and The Reach all on his own.”
“I believe he seeks out your attentions because he enjoys you as much I do, my prince. Willas is not the sort to have ulterior motives when it comes to his companions or friends. If he did, I assume he would tolerate our dear Rhaegar’s presence a bit more,” Y/N mused as she half-heartedly clapped for the nameless, faceless victor of that round. She had stopped paying attention ages ago.
Oberyn huffed at that and turned to look at Willas and he caught the lord’s eye.
Willas raised his hand in greeting, a soft smile on his face—until Mace grabbed his wrist and all but shoved his son’s hand back down.
Y/N did not stop the laugh that bubbled out of her throat, even as Elia nudged her.
“He does blush such a pretty pink,” Oberyn mused, earning himself a nudge from Elia, too. “Do you think he will finally ask you to dance tonight, little shark?” He winked with the well-worn nickname, stemming from her house’s sigil of a large, white shark.
Y/N quickly turned in her seat to stare at Elia who looked away, a sly smile on her face. “Please tell me you did not speak to your brother about Willas.”
“I have no idea what you are insinuating, dear heart.”
“Willas is a good man, little shark. But you will have to contend with his family if you finally allow him to court you.” Oberyn patted her knee. “You will need every bit of your Skilligan strength to stop yourself from killing them.”
“Hush, Oberyn. They are not all terrible.”
“You, dear sister, are the soon-to-be Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. It would be improper to think of you as anything other than the Realm’s Sun.” Oberyn smiled as Elia rolled her eyes. “I am the man who crippled their heir.”
“Willas does not believe it was your fault. We just need for Mace Tyrell to die and Dorne and The Reach will once again be fair weather allies. Olenna and Alerie are much more agreeable.”
“I could help,” Lewyn said as he stepped back into the box, carrying a sleeping Rhaenys. The two had slipped away from the festivities when the little princess complained of a headache and her great-uncle had been happy to shepherd her away for some rest in the shade and a bit of juice. Elia easily took her daughter into her arms and let her continue to sleep against her chest.
“A kind offer, uncle. But Oberyn is simply continuing to be the most dramatic of Martells.”
Lewyn reached forward and bopped his nephew on the head with a smirk. “I know.”
**
The day gave way to night and they were once again shuffled off to the Great Hall of Harrenhal for the night’s feast and dancing. Ashara Dayne, Arthur’s sister and another companion to Elia, joined them at their table, looking a little flustered as her pretty purple eyes kept jumping toward a table near the door where a small grouping of Northmen were seated.
“Which one has caught your eye?” Y/N whispered to her, trying to figure out which solemn-faced man captured her attention. Ashara was a romantic, always singing love songs to Rhaenys before her afternoon naps. She was kind-hearted and sweet, if not a little shy. Y/N enjoyed her company and how she cared for Elia. That was all that truly mattered anyway.
“The quiet one,” Ashara murmured.
“They are all quiet,” Elia said in return, also trying to figure out which one Ashara was speaking about. “Except for that she-wolf. She seems fond of making noise. I heard she thoroughly beat a handful of men for attacking that little Crannogman.”
“And then the Knight of the Laughing Tree beat them again at the joust,” Y/N muttered, thinking aloud. “Curious.” She turned to Elia. “Tell me, was the she-wolf in her box when that knight took his turns at the joust?”
Elia looked at her with a frown. “What are you implying, dear heart?”
“I do not know,” Y/N said with a shrug but then her eyes narrowed on one of the Starks at the table and poked Ashara. “That one? With the dour expression?”
“He is not dour.” It was nearly a pout. “He is just…quiet.”
Elia hummed and nodded. “Hm. Yes. The Quiet Wolf. I believe his name is Eddard. His brothers call him Ned. Is that right?”
Ashara’s cheeks bloomed with color and she looked away. “Yes, his name is Ned.”
Elia and Y/N teased their friend a little longer before the night’s festivities started and the people splintered off for dancing or singing or drinking contests—Robert Baratheon was the current champion of that impromptu tourney. Elia wanted to listen to music and had Y/N and Ashara move with her to one of the smaller chambers where they could hear someone plucking at a harp’s strings.
What they saw when they arrived was not entirely welcome.
Rhaegar was sitting on a bench, his familiar harp across his lap, and the she-wolf beside him with tears in her eyes as he sang a sad song they had all heard hundreds of times. (It was not as if he could write songs himself.) The young girl was clearly besotted with the prince.
“Princess,” Ashara murmured, turning toward Elia, trying to shield her from the sight. “I do believe Arthur is in the next room over. You promised him a dance, did you not?”
Y/N watched Elia straighten her shoulders and press a practiced smile to her face. “Yes, I believe I did. I could definitely benefit from a bit of revelry anyway.”
And one dance turned into two and then three as Arthur coaxed smiles from Elia that had Y/N releasing a breath she did not know she was holding.
She could kill Rhaegar, should kill him. She didn’t care if she was sent to the Black Cells for the rest of her life or if her head wound up on a spike—if it meant Elia was free. Free to love her babies without reproach for not looking Valyrian. Free to love whom she pleased (probably Arthur). Free to laugh and smile and dance. Free.
That was all Y/N wanted for her friend.
She watched the quiet wolf’s brother, Brandon she thought his name was, approach Ashara and point out Eddard who seemed to be trying to hide behind his tankard of ale with a vibrant blush on his cheeks. Ashara quickly made sure that Y/N was fine on her own before letting the elder Stark wave his brother over and they slowly, adorably started to dance. She watched from for a while and then spotted Elia now dancing with Lewyn with a sleepy Rhaenys balanced on her hip, too.
A quiet, rhythmic tapping of wood against stone caught her attention over the din of the music and she turned to see Willas stepping to stand at her side, a small smile on his face. “My lady,” he said with a tip of his head.
“My lord,” she replied with a smile of her own and a small curtsey. “It is good to see you again. Dragonstone and King’s Landing are far less agreeable since you were called back to Highgarden.”
Willas smiled, tucking his chin a bit. “I would prefer to be at your side, even if it is in that snake pit.” Y/N patted the seat beside her but he shook his head and held out a hand toward her. She didn’t comment on how his fingers shook. “I cannot dance, not truly, anyway. But I would be honored if you allowed me the honor of spending the next song with you.”
The smile that crept across her face could not be stopped and she quickly placed her hand in his and stood as the last beats of the song started. They took their position toward the edge of the floor, trying to keep to themselves as the next song started. And it was true, they could not truly dance. His leg could not accommodate the stomps and hard turns the song called for—but it was okay, because she had not taken the time to memorize the steps anyway. Instead, they swayed in time with the beat, taking an occasional turn to step to the side, ignoring how some onlookers clicked their tongues or whispered behind their hands about how ridiculous they might look.
“Tell me, how is Highgarden?”
“It is just as lovely as I have said before. My father is insisting on building a new aviary for my next nameday.”
“I assume this is because you mentioned once that you wanted to take up hawking? Hm?” She asked with another grin.
“He wants, so desperately, for me to be some sort of great man. Fit for song and legend. I think I will only continue to disappoint him.”
Y/N stopped her uneven swaying and simply squeezed his hands. “You are not a disappointment, Willas. You are the most intelligent man I have met and you are a capable man—capable of ruling HIghgharden in a way worthy of song. You do not need to be a warrior for that. I do believe that the world needs more smart, kind men. Like you.”
Willas sighed and shook his head. “You are too kind, my lady. But I do doubt that my father will be convinced of your reasoning.”
“Well, perhaps it is better that you are your grandmother’s favorite instead of your father’s. Your mind can and should be your greatest asset, Willas. It is one of the things I admire most about you.”
He finally looked up at her, another shy smile on his lips. “You admire me?”
“Of course. How could I not?”
His pale cheeks flooded with color and he nearly stumbled on the next step but quickly righted himself but stopped moving, holding her hands just a bit tighter. “My lady, I… Y/N…I was hoping if you would give me the honor of-”
Y/N nearly fell as someone collided with her back and Willas’s cane slapped to the floor in a clatter, gaining too much attention for Willas to continue.
Y/N turned to see some Northern lord—Roose Bolton, if she remembered correctly—sneering at her and Willas.
“Careful, my lady.” His voice was low and deep and might have been soothing to listen to if his pallid and angular face did not betray the complete lack of soul beneath his skin. She had only one other interaction with him and it had been on the tourney fields just before the first joust and he had been sneering with a few of his bannermen about how the Dornish knights must be tiny men with how small their horses seemed. (Of course, the Dornish Sand Steeds were smaller, but they were also faster and more durable than the horses these Northern lords were so fond of and could outlast them for days. Y/N had laughed heartily when Roose had been unseated by a Dornish knight not yet past his five-and-ten nameday.)
Willas huffed as Roose walked away and shook his head. “I will never understand that man. But if he was half as handsome as he was clever, the Realm would be in peril. I do not trust him.”
“I cannot say I enjoy his presence either.” She brushed away her discomfort and turned back to Willas, trying to press a smile onto her lips. “But what were you saying?”
Willas opened his mouth and was quickly interrupted again by Ashara, who did look apologetic to her credit, tugging at her sleeve. “Princess Elia requires our presence, my lady.”
She turned back to see Willas sigh before he nodded once. Before Y/N could excuse herself, he grasped her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. “I will find you again, my lady. Please enjoy the rest of your night.”
Y/N squeezed his hand before letting it drop back down to her side. She wished him well with her heart a little heavier in her chest, and let Ashara lead her back toward Elia who was standing with Lewyn and Oberyn and clutching a sleeping Rhaenys to her chest. But that was not what bothered her. No. It was the tears in Elia’s eyes and how Oberyn seemed ready to run his sword through anyone who looked at him incorrectly. “What is it? What has happened?”
Oberyn turned to her, teeth bared in a snarl. “The Mad King has once again let his thoughts be known that Rhaenys is too Dornish for his tastes.”
“She woke from a nightmare and I took her to her mother,” Lewyn explained. His large hand was pressing against Rhaenys’ back and Elia’s hands, a warm grounding force. “His Grace was nearby and little Rhaenys waved at him—she knows him as her grandfather.”
“Of course she does. Rhaenys’ heart is much too big.”
“And he turned his lip up at her and called her a…” Elia sniffled and held her daughter tighter. “A burnt leaf on the Targaryen tree. He said the only reason he knew she was his son’s daughter was the bit of silver hair she had.”
“How cruel!” Y/N exclaimed before turning to Lewyn. “Tell me no one heard him. Tell me that king of yours did not say this in front of anyone but you.”
And Lewyn’s answering silence was heartbreaking. He only continued to hold Elia and Rhaenys a little closer, a shallow consolation.
“The room was filled with people. Even the prince was there—he said nothing to stop his father’s tirade. Against his own daughter!” Oberyn was raging.
“Did Rhaenys know what he was saying?”
Elia shook her head, a tear slipping down her cheek. “No. She only thinks the best in people, my little sunshine. She was happy to be called a leaf.”
Y/N sighed and stepped forward to wipe the tear from her friend’s cheek and press a kiss to the sleeping child’s head. “The old man’s time is coming. I promise you that.”
“Y/N!” Ashara hissed. “You cannot say such things.”
“I will say such things when he says such things. Damn my uncle’s trade agreement. Damn it all. I will kill a king. I will do it.”
“No, no, dear heart. I cannot ask that of you—nor you, Oberyn,” Elia said, watery eyes cutting toward her brother. “I need you both at my side to handle whatever comes next.”
**
What came next, however, was Rhaegar winning the jousting tourney, with Elia’s favor hanging on the handle of his lance. There was a stupid tradition of the victor crowning a woman the ‘Queen of Love and Beauty’ and giving them a crown of blue roses. Y/N expected for Rhaegar to place the small bunch of flowers on Elia’s lap and be done with it.
But no.
The silver-haired prat rode right by his wife and laid the wreath in the lap of the she-wolf, Lyanna Stark.
All the smiles died.
Elia grasped Y/N’s wrist as she moved to stand, keeping her seated. “Your anger is appreciated. But I would not have more eyes on me for my husband’s indiscretions.”
It did nothing to quell the rage she felt burning in her throat. But she could be quiet. “I have Sweetsleep in my bag.”
“Y/N,” Elia snorted and shook her head. “No.”
“You’re right. Tears of Lys would be a better suit for his crimes against you.”
Elia finally uncurled her fingers only to tangle them with her friend’s as she managed a small smile. “You make me smile. Even when my heart is full of sorrow.”
Y/N’s kissed her friend’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “You deserve to smile, Princess. I will gladly play the fool if it makes you happy.”
Elia nodded and patted her hand. “I know, dear heart. I know it very well. But I…” the words died on her tongue as she turned to look around the box and found it lacking… “Oberyn.”
But Oberyn was already gone.
“Find him,” Elia whispered in a rush. “Before he does something rash. Stop him.”
Y/N instantly shot to her feet and darted out of the box in search of the Dornish prince. Luckily, it did not take long for her to find him, he was only a few paces away with his spear in hand.
She reached out and grabbed Oberyn’s arm and pulled him to a stop. “You cannot, my prince.”
“He has dishonored my sister in front of the entire kingdom. You cannot think to stop me from taking vengeance.”
“Elia said no. Would you hurt her further? You would be caught and executed and she and little Rhaenys would be as well. You know the Mad King’s wrath knows no bounds.”
Oberyn’s shoulders slumped but his teeth remained bared. “You are both too kind.”
“I offered to put Tears of Lys in his wine. I am not kind. But I would not make Elia suffer more than she already has.” She paused and watched Oberyn nod, appeased—for now. “Come, let us try to make our princess smile, hm?” Oberyn was breathing hard and Y/N pressed her hands against his chest, trying to help him breathe a little easier. “Calm—for now, at least, my prince. Breathe with me.”
He nodded and pulled in a few deep breaths through his nose and his grip on his spear loosened just a fraction. Oberyn leaned forward and brushed a kiss against her forehead. “Despite what you think of yourself, you are gentle hearted, little shark.”
“I know I am the worst sort of woman to have at your sister’s side, apparently. Always ready to murder if it would make her smile. Hardly well-mannered, too.”
“On the contrary, little shark. You are the best friend I could ever hope for her to have.”
**
The road back to Dragonstone was quiet, thankfully. Rhaegar had ridden ahead of their wheelhouse, not looking at his wife for longer than a few moments and kissed Rhaenys on her head before he set off.
It was for the best, probably. Y/N was not sure she could have stopped herself from murdering him if the opportunity presented itself—and it was always so easy for ‘bandits’ to attack a travelling party.
Oberyn was only able to accompany them so far before he had to divert his path—he had been called back to the sellsword he founded to deal with a contract dispute.
“I do not have to go,” Y/N heard him whisper to Elia the night before he left. “I can stay with you, Rhaenys, the baby. I can stay at your side.”
“I will be fine, Oberyn. I can handle this.”
“I know you can. But I don’t want you to do it on your own.”
“I’m not on my own.”
The wheelhouse hit a bump and Y/N made sure the sleeping princess on her lap didn’t jostle too much. It seemed that Rhaenys could sleep through almost anything. Even if her dreams were becoming increasingly erratic. The last night of the tourney, just a handful of hours after her father crowned a woman who was not her mother, Rhaenys had woken up in tears, babbling about dragons and fire and clouds of snow that never stopped. Elia had hummed her old lullaby until her daughter fell asleep again and it broke Y/N’s heart.
The two women she loved most in the world were hurting and there was nothing she could do about it.
“You’re good with her,” Elia said, a hand over her stomach. “And she adores you.”
Y/N smiled and curled her finger around the errant strand of silver again. “I adore her. I can only hope that if I ever have children, they are half as well behaved as her. She is wonderful, Elia. Your little sunshine.”
Elia smiled and drummed her fingers against her stomach. “I can only hope that this one is less troublesome as they come into the world.”
“I will be with you every step of the way.”
“I know, dear heart.”
And Y/N silently said a prayer to her gods—and then said another to the Seven that Elia was fond of, too—hoping for the best. Wishing for good health for Elia and her babe.
But her prayers were not answered.
Elia’s sickness continued and lingered as her pregnancy progressed and then King Aerys demanded Elia give birth within the ‘safe haven’ of the Red Keep in King’s Landing. He did not care that travel was not advisable in her condition. He did not care that Rhaenys was not sleeping well lately.
The Mad King cared for nothing and no one aside from himself. It was glaringly apparent.
It was just another reason for Y/N to hate these stupid Seven Kingdoms. She missed Skilliga. She missed how she could hear the ocean from every room in her family’s home, a massive, sprawling fortress carved into the steep rock face of the fractured islands—just like every other castle and fortress in their kingdom. She missed how clean the air was in her kingdom—smelling sea salt and fog. King’s Landing smelled of piss and moldy bread. Dragonstone was not home, not really, but it was far better than the city—and she feared far less for her friend there than she did at the capitol.
But she kept her mouth shut and held Elia’s hand as little Aegon came screaming into the world with a few strands of silver hair already crowning his head. But Elia was even more delicate after the birth, frequently needing to rest and seeking the guiding hand of healers who supplied her with calming teas and cooling balms. Y/N felt the exhaustion and relief rolling off her friend in waves as Aerys proudly presented his grandson to court, proclaiming him the heir to the stupid pointy chair. All of this made no sense to Y/N. Rhaenys was born first—did it truly matter that she was a girl? Women were set to inherit just as much as men in Skilliga—it simply mattered who was born first.
Oberyn had proudly told her that it was the same custom in Dorne—but the other six kingdoms in Westeros did not follow those rules.
And while the court celebrated the birth of another heir, Rhaegar took it upon himself to remind his wife that, “the dragon must have three heads,” before he kissed Elia’s brow and set off toward the vast library—again.
Arthur, however, hovered between dutifully following his prince and friend and staying at Elia’s side. The rigidity in her posture let those who knew her best know she was close to tears even though her smile had not moved from her face as she watched Queen Rhaella happily parade her grandson around the throne room, letting her ladies maids ooh-and-ahh over the new prince.
“Go, Arthur,” Elia eventually murmured. “I know he needs you.”
The famed knight’s shoulders dropped just a fraction before he bowed the slightest bit, excusing himself and walked away.
But Y/N was not done, feeling something bubbling her gut as she watched him near the door and she slipped away and pulled him to a stop.
“My lady?” Arthur said, eyebrows scrunched together as he looked at her hand on his arm.
“Ser Arthur, if you love her, as I know you do, protect her. Do right by her, by her beautiful children. Try to make Rhaegar see reason. See that his wife is good and gentle and all he needs.”
Arthur, proud, sweet Arthur, nearly crumpled at that and he nodded—just once—before turning and walking away.
“What did you say to him?”
Y/N turned at the sound of the small voice to see Prince Viserys looking up at her with hard, lilac-colored eyes. It must have been a miracle for him to escape the ever-present Septa and guard at his side—Aerys and Rhaella seemed to be hellbent on protecting their second son from some unseen threat. “I told him to make sure your brother stays out of trouble, princeling.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“And I don’t think that matters. Your mother will be looking for you.”
His thin lips pulled into an even thinner line but he nodded and walked away.
Apparently the Targaryen family was filled with presumptuous little pigeons. Truly, the only ones Y/N truly liked were Rhaenys (who was more of a Martell anyway) and Rhaella (whom she rarely saw as she was constantly nursing healing bruises and cuts from her husband’s ‘attentions’.) And she was sure Aegon would take after his mother too, making him another one of the few the Seven Kingdoms did not deserve. But Y/N pushed that thought out of her mind as she discovered Elia, still cradling Aegon, weeping in her chambers that night. A bit of parchment was set beside her on her undone featherbed and Y/N hurriedly tried to stop her tears, to know why her dearest friend was crying, but Elia only pointed a finger at the parchment and silently told Y/N to read it.
The seal of a snarling wolf was stamped on it with a wax seal and she could already feel herself growing angry.
The missive was short. But it said enough. It was from the she-wolf, Lyanna Stark. She was responding to the raven Rhaegar must have sent earlier—stating that she would meet him in the Riverlands in just a few moons’ time and that she was excited to be at his side, and away from her oaf of a betrothed, Robert Baratheon.
Y/N crumpled the note and threw it into the roaring hearth.
“I’m going to kill him.”
Elia sniffled and shook her head. “You cannot. I will not have my babies grow up without a father.”
“And I cannot have him shame you so. You deserve more than this pompous little lizard can give you—crown prince or not.”
Aegon fussed in his mother’s arms but quieted as Elia pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. “Rhaegar told me that he must have three. The prophecy he’s been obsessed with since he was a boy demands it, he believes. Something about the prince who was promised.” Aegon’s little hand reached up toward his mother and Elia caught it, letting his fingers wrap around her as she kissed his thumb with a watery smile. “The wolf girl—she will sate Rhaegar’s need for a third baby.”
“This prophecy he believes in is madness,” she hissed. “I will not allow him to treat you like this-”
“It is done, dear heart. He has made his decision.”
“Have you made yours?”
“What choice do I have?” Elia asked with a mirthless laugh. “He is the crown prince and I am-”
“A princess of Dorne. Mother of his two children.”
Elia waved her hand and looked down at her son. “All I want in this world is for my children to be happy.” She sighed, shoulders sagging under an invisible weight. “It is not the wolf girl’s fault. Rhaegar can be very persuasive. I hold no ill will toward her.”
“And toward Rhaegar?”
Elia’s beautiful eyes cut to her before falling down to her lap. She did not answer.
“The offer still stands for me to kill him, you know.”
“I know, dear heart. And I thank you for it. But I need you by my side. I know the times ahead will be turbulent. The Realm has not had a king with more than one queen since Maegor the Cruel.”
“He means to marry her?” Y/N hissed. The anger she felt bubbling grew hotter as Elia nodded and wiped at her cheeks.
“We shall both be his queens, I suppose.” Elia paused and sniffled once more. “I could love the child she bears Rhaegar as my own.”
And that took the wind from Y/N’s sails in an instant. Plans for a slow murder evaporate and she crossed the room to sit at Elia’s side, her hands coming up to rest on her friend’s shoulders, mindful of the babe in her arms. “Your heart was always too big,” Y/N said. “And I shall be at your side until the end of my days.”
**
Dragonstone was a welcome reprieve from King’s Landing. She could truly smell the sea again, leeching a bit of the tension from her shoulders. It was even more of a respite when Rhaegar left (again). He had been playing his stupid harp and looking even more melancholy than usual before he kissed Rhaenys and Aegon on their little heads and bit Elia farewell.
Y/N knew what he was setting off to do—the little She-Wolf waited for him.
And she also knew that Arthur had finally confessed his repressed feelings for Elia and had gently kissed her under rising sun before he was called away by an unsuspecting and unknowing Rhaegar who waited for his trusted friend at the gates of the castle. She had spied it from her chamber window and had not told Elia what she had witnessed, only noting that she was fond of smiling that day. The smiles continued as Elia received ravens from Oberyn and Willas, filled with words of congratulations for her new babe and well wishes for her and her growing family. “And Oberyn wants you to know that you are not allowed to be Aegon’s favorite as you are Rhaenys’—he has deemed it selfish and he will challenge you to a duel if it seems that Aegon prefers your company to his when he visits next.” Elia laughed and showed her the slip of parchment with Oberyn’s flourishing handwriting.
“And Willas wishes for me to give you his best, and hopes that you remember your dance at the tourney as fondly as he does.” Y/N tried to pull the parchment from Elia’s fingers but it was jerked away at the last moment as Elia laughed. “Oh no, dear heart. I am going to keep this to read when you have babies of your own our dear little Willas!”
But the smiles would not last.
It started as whispers than grew to a scream. Lyanna Stark had disappeared with Rhaegar Targaryen. Was she kidnapped? Had she gone willingly? Elia had tried to dissuade the Stormlands from taking up arms against the crown, led by a ‘hurt’ Robert Baratheon, but Y/N surmised that the ravens the princess had sent had gone unheeded. The Baratheons wanted blood and they would have it.
And that meant that the paranoia of the Mad King was now proving prophetic.
Aerys had killed two Starks and wanted the heads of the others who were leading the Northern infantry toward the Trident. He wanted Jon Arryn to send him the head of his former ward, Robert Baratheon as a show of loyalty.
Arryn refused.
War raged.
Aerys called Elia back to the capitol.
“He is only doing this to make sure Dorne stays loyal,” Elia whispered to Y/N as they lay together in Elia’s bed as a storm raged outside. “But House Martell keeps its promises—there is no need for threats. No need to keep me and my babies as hostages.”
Tears slipped down Elia’s cheeks and Y/N gently wiped them away. “I will protect you, Elia. I promise you that.”
**
The sail of the ship was emblazoned with the sigil of House Redwyne—Willas’ grandmother’s house. The stupid burgundy grapes on blue cloth had never been a more beautiful or welcome sight.
Willas.
Her dear, sweet Willas had heeded her call. And now it was time for Y/N keep her loved ones safe. She had a sleeping Rhaenys (and tiny Balerion) in her arms and Elia had a fussing Aegon in hers as they slipped from Elia’s rooms and took the servants’ stairs down to the courtyard and toward the seldom-used docks on the north side of the fortress as thunder rolled overhead with a coming storm. The stone steps had weathered away and the wooden ladder down to the dock had been washed away ages ago. Y/N had to hand Rhaenys to her mother for a moment before she jumped down to the dock and took the sleeping girl back into her arms.
The Redwyne ship was nearly there. Their sails had been pulled down, letting them look like unmarked and unnoticeable trade ships.
“Princess Elia?” A voice boomed in the dark.
Elia looked back toward the castle and then down at Aegon, her grip tightening. Rhaenys stirred in Y/N’s arms and opened her eyes, little brow furrowing at the commotion around her. Y/N carefully set her down on the dock, holding her hand tightly before turning back to Elia.
“You can make it, Elia. Just jump. I will catch you!”
Another shout of her name had Elia looking backward.
“Elia!” She hissed. “We must go!” It would only be a matter of time before someone discovered the three bodies Y/N had dropped to clear the way for the little family. They never saw her or her hidden blades coming in the dark.
But Elia was frozen and the shouts of her name grew louder. Slowly, so slowly, Elia’s head turned and with a flash of lightning, Y/N saw what she was looking at: a fleet of ships blazoned with the three-headed Targaryen sigil headed toward the eastern dock.
They had come.
Elia turned, still clutching Aegon to her chest. She kissed him once more before pressing him down into Y/N’s arms. “Go. Go now before they catch you. Protect my babies.”
“We can make it! Elia, please-”
“Mama!” Rhaenys cried. “Mama!”
“Go, my sunshine. Remember, I will always love you.”
Y/N looked out to see the ships were docked and a small army had come to take Elia and her children away to King’s Landing.
“Princess Elia, you have been commanded by King Aerys to present yourself and your children in court immediately.”
She had to go.
Her choice had been made.
**
The Redwyne sailors were accommodating to the two crying babes and frazzled, foreign woman on their decks as they sailed toward Skilliga. They made sure they were settled in the captain’s quarters and left them with a bit of water and berries before mentioning that, “Lord Willas hopes you will write to him when we arrive at Skilliga.”
The captain had the good grace to look a bit ashamed before excusing himself.
“Where’s Mama?” Rhaenys asked as she snuggled down into the well-worn blankets of the small bed.
“She is…visiting your grandfather.” The words were bitter on her tongue and she pulled the blankets a little higher to Rhaenys’ chin and kissed her hair. “Get some sleep, sunshine.”
“What about Aegon?” Rhaenys asked, eyes fighting to close.
“I will make sure he gets some sleep, too.”
Content with that answer, Rhaenys nodded and finally let her eyes fully close. And after checking on the little prince, tucked away in a bassinet made of a half barrel and a mound of blankets—a far cry from the golden crib he had at Dragonstone, she let herself cry.
**
Rhaenys was fond of how her voice echoed in the halls of her temporary home. She would laugh and sing and talk and just listen to it echo as little Balerion circled between her feet. And that gave Y/N a small bit of joy, to know that Rhaenys was still able to smile—even if she asked for her mother every time she work and every time she was tucked into bed. Even if the little princess still screamed with terrible dreams filled with fire and ice almost every night.
Aegon was a happy baby, content to be in Y/N’s arms and babble at the dolphins and sharks he could see from the fortress’ windows.
It was good to be home. Truly, it was. The sound of the sea and the scent of its salt were a balm to her fraying nerves but it was lacking something now—lacking Elia.
Every night, Y/N would pray to each and every god and goddess she could think of to keep Elia safe. To let her come back to her babies. To live the life she wanted to when this rebellion was over.
Every night.
But, again, her prayers were unanswered.
Hammond slipped into her room before the sun rose nearly a year since their escape from Dragonstone and gently woke her by rubbing at her shoulder, like he had done thousands of times before. He had been her father, her only parent, since her parents died of a simple sickness when she was twelve. And now, it seemed, it fell to him to be that parent again.
“I have to tell you something, Y/N. I am so sorry.”
The words rang in her head, echoing over and over again as he continued to tell her what had happened in Westeros. News had reached their little kingdom that Aerys was dead. Rhaegar had been beaten and killed at the Trident. Robert was King. And Elia had been murdered.
“A-are you certain?” She asked, the words strangling the breath from her lungs. “Surely it cannot be-”
“They said the Lannister men presented her body to Robert, rolled in a red curtain.”
A sob wrenched its way out of her throat as she crumpled back into her blankets. Gone. She was gone.
Her uncle let her cry for a moment, sitting on the edge of her bed like a stalwart guard until she caught her breath.
“But there is some strange news, too. It seems the Lannister men thought they needed to prove the Targaryens were dead. Two little bodies were presented to the Usurper too. They claimed they were little Rhaenys and Aegon.”
“What? What? I-”
“Only you, it seems, knew that Elia had come to the capitol alone. They must’ve killed a poor kitchen maid’s children, thinking they were the prince and princess.” His roughened hand gently wiped at her cheeks. “I sent you to that wretched kingdom in hopes that we could strengthen our alliance, grow our fortunes. I am sorry. I am so sorry.”
And Y/N could only cry.
**
It was only a handful of moons later that a servant came into Y/N’s rooms and announced that a strange man had demanded Y/N meet him on the small island off the shore of her family’s fortress, the only island outsiders could land on safely.
Y/N knew it was stupid to go. Knew it was stupid to kiss Rhaenys and Aegon on the crowns of their head as a nurse Y/N had hired watched them. Knew it was stupid to take the small boat she had carved when she was only eight out to the island by herself. But she did it anyway. She needed it.
On the little island, a small patch of tall, green grass surrounded by soft sand and sharp rock, stood a man she thought had died.
Arthur was standing there, his white KIngsguard cloak long gone and the armor missing as he held a small bundle in his grasp. And he was bleeding. Bleeding bleeding bleeding. But he trudged forward and pressed the small bundle into her arms and then he nearly collapsed to his knees at her feet.
“It is finished.”
She looked down at the bundle and gasped. A baby—there was another baby.
“What? Arthur? What is this? Who?”
“Rhaegar wanted to name him Vaemond. But Lady Lyanna…she kept calling the babe Jon before she even brought him into this wretched world.”
This was Lyanna’s baby. The baby Elia said she would love as her own. And so now, she must, too. Y/N huffed and the babe in her arms squirmed, full lips pulled into a pout. “Then Jon he will be.” Rhaegar had done enough damage to his children. “Where is Lyanna?”
“Dead. The childbed took her.” The words were punched out of him and his unfocused eyes looked at the babe in her arms. “You’ll care for him, won’t you? He’s innocent in all of this.”
“So was Elia. So are Rhaenys and Aegon.”
“So it is true then?” The hopeful gleam in his eye made her chest lurch. “You have her children? They’re safe? I thought it was just rumor that Elia had been alone when she arrived in King’s Landing. I thought she would never leave her babies…”
“She only left them to keep them safe. And, for now, they are safe.”
Arthur was quiet as Y/N looked down at the baby in her arms. Jon’s pudgy little arms reached out toward her and she adjusted her hold to let him wrap his hand around one of her fingers. And she was lost. He was a precious little one. Another babe for her to care for.
Arthur suddenly fell to his knees and Y/N hurried to try to keep him upright while still keeping little Jon comfortable. But Arthur pushed her hands away, leaving blood on her skin from where he had touched her so briefly. “Will she forgive me? When I see her…will she forgive me for helping her husband in this stupid fight for prophecy?” His purple eyes filled with tears and they slipped down his dirty cheeks.
Y/N did not need to ask who he was asking about. She knew. “Elia forgave you the moment it happened.”
Arthur nodded and hung his head. He was finished. “Thank you, my lady.”
“Rest, Arthur. You have earned it.” She placed her hand against his head, the closest she could be to him in the moment and, in the next few breaths, he was gone. His body slumped to the soft grass.
Y/N sighed and held Jon a little closer. Another one…another person she had considered a friend had been taken and she was alone again. And, she promised herself then. This would be the last time she cried. This would be the last time she lost someone.
This would be the last time.
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AND ANOTHER BANNER BY MY BABY MARS @thesadvampire​
A/N: Please let me know what you think. This is a bit of a slower burn so I hope you guys don’t lose interest. :) thanks for reading!
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cdroloisms · 3 years
Text
as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au
here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 
anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 
tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization
Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.
He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.
Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?
He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.
Oh.
Right.
Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.
He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?
“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-
Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.
Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].
It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.
The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.
By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.
---
Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.
In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.
He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.
Nothing had happened.
Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.
Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.
He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.
He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.
He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?
Distantly, thunder rumbled.
---
It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.
He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.
He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-
“Fran, don’t-”
Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.
“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”
Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.
“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”
He froze.
Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.
Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.
“Sam!”
He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.
“Dream?”
“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.
Dream’s eyes were pitch black.
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morganaspendragonss · 3 years
Text
holly's august extravaganza day 4: a friend in me
📍 anon - I don't know but I feel like Carlos and Nancy can have such an awesome best friend dynamic. Maybe something sad/scary regarding Nancy happens where she has to make a report at the precinct and Carlos doesn't tell anyone as she made him promise so he starts to just check on Nancy and they just develop this caring, supportive, beautiful, fun, full of banter friendship to the amusement of TK and the 126.
kept this separate from your original ask because i want to keep those other prompts you sent alongside this one for later 😊
ao3 | 2k | hurt/comfort, brief references to gun violence, mostly just carlos and nancy being besties
Carlos has never seen Nancy look so small.
She’s sitting hunched over in one of the interrogation rooms, shock blanket around her shoulders, hands seemingly moving of their own volition to tear the empty styrofoam cup in front of her to shreds. As soon as Carlos had seen her being escorted into the precinct, shaking like a leaf and clutching her coat like a lifeline, he’d persuaded the officer with her to let him take over the case. His association with the 126 is well known so the officer had been reluctant, but Carlos had managed to wear him down, saying that he doesn’t really know Nancy that well.
And it’s—it’s not exactly a full lie. Through their hangs and TK’s stories, he’s coming to see Nancy as a force of nature, a woman who will let nothing and no-one stand in her way, whether that’s out on the field or during a game of Monopoly. But of her personal life, Carlos knows next to nothing; she mentioned a sister a few weeks ago, and TK delights in teasing her about her growing crush on Marjan, but that’s about it.
He needs to make more of an effort, he decides. When they’re anywhere else but a police station.
Carlos knocks lightly on the door to announce his presence before entering the room, sending her what he hopes is a reassuring smile. Nancy visibly relaxes at the sight of him and she drops the remains of her cup, though Carlos doesn’t miss the continuing tremble to her hands.
“Hey Nancy,” he says, sliding into the seat opposite her. “How are you doing?”
Nancy’s lips twitch, the corners barely curving into the beginnings of a wry smile. She breathes out shakily, meeting Carlos’s eyes for the briefest second before staring back down at the table. “I’m not great,” she answers, and for her to admit to that… Well, Carlos suspects it’s not a regular occurrence.
He nods, reluctantly pulling out his notebook and pen, hesitating before flipping to the next blank page. Nancy tracks his movements, resignation clearly etched all over her features. Carlos glances at the two-way mirror—not that it does him any good—then reaches across the table to take Nancy’s hand.
“We don’t have to do this right now,” he murmurs. “If you need more time, just say the word and I’ll leave. Or if you’d prefer to talk to someone you don’t know, we can do that too. Anything you need.”
The sudden tightness of Nancy’s grip is unexpected, as is the flash of panic in her eyes.
“Please, don’t go,” she whispers. “I don’t—” She cuts herself off, shutting her eyes and breathing slowly for a few seconds. Slowly, her hold on Carlos begins to loosen until her hand is slack in his, then she draws both hands into her lap and straightens in her chair. When her eyes reopen, she seems more like the Nancy Carlos knows—strong, confident, assertive—though there’s still clearly an undercurrent of fear underneath it all.
“I’m fine. Let’s do this.”
Carlos bites back an are you sure and settles for clicking his pen, his smile unwavering. “Can you run me through what happened, exactly?” he asks. “Take your time.”
A second or two passes, then Nancy nods, her voice steady when she speaks. “I was restocking the bus at the end of shift. I was alone; Captain Vega was in her office and TK was with the others in the showers—he did try to help but he’d had to go into a fire on our last call to help a patient and the smell of smoke was giving me a headache, so I told him to go.”
Carlos pauses in his note-taking, mentally filing that last piece of information away for follow-up as soon as he sees his boyfriend again. Judging by the amused quirk to Nancy’s eyebrow, she’s fully aware of where his mind has gone, so Carlos clears his throat and motions for her to continue, forcing his thoughts back to the present.
“Like I said, I was alone. I didn’t mind it; it was kind of relaxing, you know? Then this guy appeared from nowhere and pointed a gun at me, saying if I called out or turned on the siren or anything, he’d shoot. I thought—” She inhales sharply, her knuckles going white on the tabletop and her jaw clenching tightly. Her voice sounds different when she next speaks, more controlled, as though forcing each word out. “I thought it was happening again. I thought he was going to take me somewhere, make me his personal pet paramedic, something like that.
“Turns out, he just wanted drugs. I gave him what we had on the rig and he seemed satisfied, so I figured he’d shoot me anyway ‘cause I’d seen his face, right? He didn’t—obviously—but it looked like he was considering it.” Nancy pauses and flicks her gaze up at Carlos, biting her lip. “I think he might have done it,” she admits quietly, “but he got spooked by one of the guys making noise so he just bolted. I’m not sure how long it was between that and TK coming back and finding me. I’m sorry.”
Carlos shakes his head. “It’s okay. We can check the cameras at the station. With luck, that should get us an ID, maybe a license plate if he drove. I think that’s almost everything; just one more question, if that’s okay. Can you tell me what you gave him exactly?”
Nancy nods. “Morphine, Ativan, tramadol… I’d have to check stocks for the exact amounts.”
“We’ll do that, don’t worry about it.” Carlos taps his pen on the pages before flipping his notebook shut and leaning across the table again. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. “Speaking as a friend and not a cop, if there’s anything you need, anything I can help with, let me know.”
She smiles wanly. “I’m okay. I just want to go home and forget all this ever happened.”
“Fair enough. I’ll walk you out to your car.”
Carlos half-expects her to brush him off, but she just nods and allows him to escort her back through the precinct and out to her car. He dithers awkwardly, shuffling his feet as Nancy turns to him, one hand on the door handle.
“Thank you, Carlos. For real. I have the feeling it wasn't a coincidence that you were the one in that room with me.”
The tips of Carlos’s ears go pink as he finds himself caught out. “That, uh… That would not be inaccurate.”
“Well, thanks.” She pulls open the car door and Carlos takes a step back, wanting to wait until she’s safely away to go back inside. Nancy ducks as if to get in, then pauses and straightens again, biting her lip as she looks back at him.
“Hey, Carlos?” she says. “Can you do me a favour and not tell the others? Not even TK. They— They know vaguely what happened, but I’d prefer it if the details and, uh, some of the other stuff I told you could be kept between us.”
He agrees immediately, just grateful that she trusts him enough to handle this for her. “No-one will know any more than they need to,” he promises, which seems to relieve her. She thanks him again, then gets in the car and drives away, Carlos watching after her with one hand raised in farewell.
*
It grows from there.
It’s not intentional exactly, but one text to check up on her soon turns into a steady stream of messages, stories and jokes and even the occasional meme passing back and forth between them. Carlos especially appreciated Nancy's carefully curated collection of dirt on TK, which, as a concerned boyfriend, it is his duty to know. Many a conversation has been spent griping about TK's accident prone ways or sighing over his latest mishap.
Lovingly, of course.
Nancy, 15.48: you’ll never guess what happened this time
Carlos, 16.22: ?
In answer, he receives a picture of a dejected-looking TK sprawled on the floor with Buttercup’s front paws squarely resting on his chest. Buttercup’s tongue is lolling out, a wide grin on his face, and in the background stand the rest of the crew. All of them also seem to have their phones pointed towards TK—probably the reason TK looks so down, as Carlos knows his boyfriend couldn’t be upset with Buttercup to save his life.
Nancy, 16.26: he thought he’d try to teach buttercup some tricks. turns out, dog trainers exist for a reason
Carlos has to stifle a laugh—technically, he is supposed to be working—but his attempt at being subtle is thwarted when his phone repeatedly pings with similar texts and photos from Paul, Marjan, and Mateo. He screenshots the sudden influx of notifications and sends it to Nancy before saving every single photo.
Nancy responds with a laughing emoji and a promise to keep him updated.
*
Not all of their conversations are about TK, naturally.
Carlos, 19.10: I don’t understand why you don’t just talk to her
Nancy, 19.12: i do talk to her. every shift, actually
Carlos, 19.13: Nancy
Nancy, 19.13: carlos
Nancy, 19.14: i don’t even know if she’s into women, alright? it’s not like i can just march up and ask, that’s like waving a banner saying ‘hey, i’m in love with you’ in her face
Carlos, 19.16: Oh, we’re talking about love now, are we?
Nancy, 19.17: can it, reyes
Carlos, 19.20: Noted. Look, take it from someone who’s been navigating gay relationships in Texas his whole life. Sometimes you just have to go for it. Ask her for coffee, test the waters, see where it leads. You never know, it might work out. I mean, look at me
Nancy, 19.24: wow, way to rub your happiness in my face 😑
(Carlos doesn’t find out if she follows his advice, but he does notice her and Marjan showing up to their hangs together)
(Nancy does not appreciate his smugness)
*
Without even realising, they become a formidable team. This fact is highlighted one game night about three months after the incident, when Nancy and Marjan blow into his and TK’s house, a determined glint in both their eyes.
“We’re switching up the teams,” Marjan declares, much to TK’s outrage.
“What? Why?”
“Because,” Nancy continues, “we’re tired of losing to you guys. You’re like, freakishly good at board games and it’s not fair. Plus, we have to watch you both being all lovey all the time when you’re on the same team and it’s exhausting. We want to see you being competitive for once.”
TK pouts, but Carlos just shrugs when he looks to him for backup. “It’ll be fun,” he says, smiling at Nancy and Marjan. TK still looks put out, so he leans in close and half-murmurs, “C’mon babe. How about a prize for the winner?”
TK perks up considerably at the suggestion, and, going by the twin looks of despair on Nancy and Marjan’s faces, they caught both the comment and the innuendo. Marjan groans and Nancy raises her eyes skyward, as if pleading for divine intervention.
“This was a great idea, actually,” TK says, grinning. He quirks an eyebrow at Nancy. “You and me, Nance?”
That seems to shake Nancy out of her silent prayers for strength. “Uh, no. I’m with Carlos.” To emphasise the point, she strides forward and grabs Carlos’s arm, dragging him to the couch. He nudges her gently when they sit, smirking at the disgruntled way she digs into the snack bowl.
“You did say you wanted to see us being competitive.”
“Shut up.”
*
In the end, TK ends up paired with Mateo, and Marjan with Paul. It’s clear from the outset who’s going to win—Nancy and Carlos dominate the board, and not even Paul’s master strategy is enough to catch up with them.
They win by a comfortable margin, fist-bumping in celebration. There’s a general air of bemusement in the room, and when Carlos looks round at the others, he finds four pairs of eyes fixed on them.
“What?”
“Since when have you two been such a good team?” Paul asks, leaning back in his chair and raising an eyebrow.
Carlos shrugs, sharing a smile with Nancy. “Guess we just are.”
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alecxaheart · 3 years
Text
Someone's Someone | Bang Chan Oneshot (2)
✎ Genre : CEO AU, Soulmate AU, Fluff
✎ Pairings : Bang Chan X Reader
✎ Word Count : 5.5k words
✎ Synopsis : We all just wanna be someone's someone that we can't live without. At this time, Chan was looking for his. And unexpectedly, he was already tied down to someone.
✎ Warnings : Explicit Language
✎ Parts : 1 , 2
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" Let's just part ways here, " Saying those words felt a bit disheartening at some point, yet you chose to disregard it.
You walked forwards, while Chan stayed in his position, wearing his coat and fixing his tie. Although, something stopped you. As in you couldn't go forwards as much as you force to. Well when you did force yourself, it only tugged Chan towards you. Turning around, he was already eyeing you. " What was that for?! "
Glaring at the thread, you thought out loud, " Is this string telling me, it can only stretch itself approximately at 7 meters?! "
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Twin buildings towered above you two, heavy work's shouting for the both of you. You suddenly feel so small when you found out who this dude was in the company. Either way, you stepped inside the building next to him as if you're supposed to be. You don't have any other choice though unless you wanna be dragged by this buff guy and look like a fool rolling around since the thread is invisible to the public.
" I'm surprised that you don't know who I am, " He stated as you entered the elevator with him. You could tell how much of a fuss this is already when you walked in those doors alongside him.
" Does it really have to be my fault when I only started working here a few months ago, Mr. CEO? " He responded with a chuckle.
" It's Mr. Bang, well, at work. You can call me Chan when we're not. I don't like such formality and bringing work on my rest hours. "
" Oh, so you're that Mr. Bang. The one I hid from last night, " You whispered the last sentence.
" Pardon? " The elevator chimed as you reached your floor, opening its doors swiftly.
" It's.. It's nothing, " You stuttered and hastily stepped out of the elevator while Chan followed. " Why are we on my floor again? Isn't yours like, at the very top floor just to have that stunning view of the world or something? "
" Seems like some fanfiction you got there for me, " He chuckled first while you lowered your head in embarrassment. " But no, my office is at the opposite building, about two or three levels above yours which means it's the middle floor. In addition to that, I have to discuss matters with your boss due to some adjustments that we have over here, " He brought up his thumb to your view, talking about the red string. " Just hand over the documents then wait for me outside by the door, copy? " Chan explained as he stopped in front of a dark oak door, knocking on it three times.
" Adjustments? What- "
" Come in, " The voice on the other side of the door called out. You could've had a short session of hesitations first but this Bang Chan just opens the door widely and gives off such superior vibes that gave you the chills - like he should 'cause he's the CEO, he freaking owns the place. You did wonder why you haven't been fired yet after every informalities you've shown to him. What a great first impression you got there for a Chief Executive Officer, you're never gonna get a promotion to get out of this trashy position.
The surprising entrance of the uninvited and unexpected guest caught your boss off-guard. " Ah! G-Good morning, Mr. Bang! " Ms. Kang frantically stood up and bowed, her phone slipping off of her hands and onto the desk. Looking up, she saw you behind Chan, your hand fidgeting around the strap of your bag while head held down. " And Ms... (Y/N)? " She questioned as she averted her eyes back to Chan.
" Pardon me although I won't be here for long, I'm only handing you the documents like you instructed, Ms. Kang. " You said while handing her the documents. She took a quick scan on it before she gestured you to leave. Following Chan's instructions, you wait by the door as soon as you've shut it. Trying your best to not let curiosity get the best of you and eavesdrop, you distracted yourself by scrolling through your phone and jamming to some Monsta X's songs.
" May I ask what business brought you here to my office? "
" I'd like to compromise. "
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It wasn't long that you've thought about getting fired and promotions, not even hours had passed.
Yet here you are, promoted and working as the CEO's assistant on that very day like it's the only choice. Standing on the polished marble floors, opposite side of the building, in his high-class office. It was spacious enough to fit two office desks and a lounge (probably for coffee breaks or small meetings) yet grand-looking with the accent walls and chandelier. The smell of lavender and the nice fluorescent glow it had made it better. Speaking of glow, you suddenly missed Kim Seungmin, the only co-worker friend you got. His bright presence who would constantly bother you from time to time during work hours. You can't really pinpoint whether he is an angel or demon with that fact because most likely you're the one being scolded instead of him. He better be jealous by the time he finds out you're now a CEO's Assistant.
" Ms. Kang got what she wished for in exchange for you getting the 2nd best achievable seat in the company, " Chan continued to elaborate the discussion in the room where it happened as he took a seat, not even bothering to help you fix your new desk if he was a gentleman. Honestly, it's undeniably comfortable being around this man despite you only got acquainted with him this day.
" Seriously? Can't you just promote me with a snap of your fingers? " You whined, arranging all of your things out from the container.
" Maybe if I had the infinity stones, " He first joked and you're not taking it. " Although it's Ms. Kang, there's an exchange for everything with her, " He casually said, looking through his emails with his chin resting on his fist.
" I- " Learn to shut your pesky little mouth, (Y/N). Your own conscience just sealed your mouth from babbling nonsense.
Well, let's think about the bright side. First up, you're promoted, meaning you'll get a way higher pay than before. Second, you're free from Ms. Kang's grasp. Third, Chan seems like a nice and chill boss. If your impression on him will be proven wrong, in any way he couldn't be as worse as Ms. Kang 'cause so far he saved your butt and doesn't mind your attitude.
" Ah, right. You're staying at my house for the meantime, " The book you're trying to place on the top shelf just fell on your head, making you lose your balance and fall to the ground. The loud thump made Chan glance at you, preventing himself from laughing. With your head aching and vision uneven, you tried to process what he said.
" What did you say? " Chan stood up from his chair and made his way towards you.
" I said you're staying at my house until we figure out how to break this thread off, " He answered as he offered a hand for you to take. This simple action made you tense, feeling your face heating up. You gladly took it with weak legs, though you eventually got back to your own feet without his support.
" Yours? Why not mine? I bet it's closer to work than yours. "
" You got a lot of complaints, I hope you know that. "
" No I'm not! Just.. talkative, " You bluffed, pouting. " And fine, your house then. Mine's probably not as presentable as yours anyway. "
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This is the red string of fate that kept you two together the whole time, knotted around one another's finger securely. Both of you share the same thoughts while sitting on the couch in the living room of Chan's luxurious penthouse. It did offer extravagant views of Seoul from the top of the apartment, making everything feel so surreal. Could it possibly be malfunctioning? It's supposed to stretch out without limitations as well as it'll be invisible to the naked eye including yours, according to the tales and legends you've heard as a child. Most importantly, how could you break it off?
" Maybe this had to do something with the child, " Chan thought to himself, legs crossed and eyes trained down to the floor. " You cleared our schedule for the week, correct? " He looked towards you, catching your gaze on him.
" Yes, I did. Why? " You couldn't help but be enchanted in his brown eyes. It did look brighter in the sunset than before as the sunlight kissed his face. You wanted to take a closer look at it as to what it may hold within those orbs.
" You know the child back in the train? The one who placed this string of fate around our fingers? " With those words, you were snapped back into reality.
" Child? No? I was asleep, remember? " You looked away and a dog's appearance caught your attention, feeling soft and in 'awe' for it immediately. It had some large brown spots on its white fur, fluffy and has this wavy ears. It looks quite similar to that dog named 'Lady' in "Lady and the Tramp". Noticing that it was really friendly even with strangers, you patted its head lightly as it neared you. Chan witnessed you bond with his partner, smiling. The dog was ecstatic to make new friends with you that it jumped to your lap. Giggling, you ruffled its fur and kissed its forehead. " Seems like you're well loved, baby~ " You cooed, booping its nose.
" She's Berry, by the way. " Chan informed you while watching you play with berry's paws.
" I have to say, she's the cutest, " You flashed a beaming smile at him, eyes forming into crescents. Chan couldn't do anything but smile back, his heart slowly melting at the scene in front of him. You caught the sight of his dimples, which made you think that it's now one of your favorite features he has. If everyday's like this, it'd be such a bliss. Yet you know it'll somehow be just another memory you'll treasure since there will be an end to this.
Back to reality, Chan further tells you the details of the occurrences while you were sleeping. " Ah, right. About the child. If my memory serves me correct, he was blonde headed and had ocean blue-like eyes. He's about 4'6 feet in height and the one who placed this thread around our fingers. When I tried to run after him, he just vanished into thin air. "
" You sure you're not being delusional? " You carefully placed berry down on the couch then made your way to the kitchen.
" Positive. " He replied while petting his companion, who's getting some rest first, before following you. You asked him what his plans were, wrapping your fingers around the refrigerator handle. Opening it, you scanned for available foods due to your stomach being upset in this whole conversation. There's a lot of goods, especially meat. You're assuming that this man eats a lot even when he's on his own. While you were busy with that, Chan thinks of an itinerary for the whole week to get your own lives back. Until, his deep thoughts were interrupted by you.
" How about we eat dinner first so then you can plan properly, hm? You want steak? " You asked, placing the ingredients you need right in front of his view. His eyes just twinkled before you and were already on the raw steak, famished.
" Chris wants steak, please! " Enthusiastically said by Chris, giggling afterwards.
" Steak coming right up just for Chris! " He responded with a small clap, smiling ear to ear. You have to be honest, your first meeting with him is just the worst than any other possible happenings to you two's first meeting. Yet you're satisfied that at least you met him in some way that brought you closer, especially with this string of fate. And today's gonna be a long night for the both of you.
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It's very late at night yet your body wouldn't let you rest despite Chan giving you his whole king-sized bed while he sleeps on his divan couch a few meters away, or so you thought he's fast asleep. Although the comforter, mattress, pillows, just the bed as a whole is definitely a 5-star, you can't really sleep easily in someone else's home that you just met. Minutes that felt like hours passed, your eyes were blankly staring at the ceiling. The silence was quite dreadful for you usually at night, which is what you get for watching a fairly ton of horror movies. With a few sessions of hesitations, you decided to break it by calling Chan first. " Psst. Hey Chan. Who designed your house? "
After a short pause, you received a fade sound of shifting and a groan. " A friend of mine. His name's Hyunjin. Why do you ask? " He responded, staring at the same ceiling as you. Arms resting behind his head.
You laid down on your stomach then propped your chin on your hands, facing him. " Is he cute? "
" Seriously, (Y/N)? " He deadpanned. " Also he's already Changbin's anyway so I suggest you stay away unless you want a death wish. "
" Okay, Okay. Chill. I'm just asking, " You rolled your eyes. " I just can't sleep. "
" I already offered you the best bed there is. " Chan looked at your direction and glared.
" It's not that. It's from the fact that I can't fall asleep easily in a stranger's house, that's for sure, " You shifted again in the soft cream cotton bed, letting your body sink. It's like you're laying on a relieving cloud in the heavens.
" We've already passed the stranger level. Let's say we're acquaintances. "
" That doesn't make any such difference especially to my problem but okay. " You pouted.
A long pause surrounded the room, the chills slowly creeping on to your skin. You covered your whole body with the warm comforter, feeling the slumber visiting you little by little. A yawn escaping your lips and eyes getting droopy. Pondering for a second before you let yourself sleep, you took a last glance towards Chan. " Are you cold? " You asked when you saw him without any blankets. He responded with a hum.
" A little bit. But I'll be alright, don't worry, " He yawned, eyes getting heavy as he slowly visited dreamland. " Goodnight, (Y/N). "
However, before you reply, you silently get off the bed when you're sure Chan's too tired to even open his eyes again. Making your way around the room with tippy toes until you found what you needed. You've gone over to his divan couch where he occupies it, placing the blanket you found on top of his and Berry's body, who happen to be sleeping peacefully right next to him. With a weak smile, you finally greeted him back before heading back to the bed and your slumber, " Goodnight Chan, Berry. Sweet dreams. "
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Almost afternoon came but none of you decided to rise and shine, except for Berry who's starting to get hungry. It was indeed past her usual breakfast time and she doesn't seem to like the sound of having 'brunch'. So then to get what she needed, she has to be the doggo clock for today.
Berry starts barking the best that she could although it didn't make any much effect, Chan only responded by covering his ears and turning away while you stayed unbothered in your deep sleep. She proceeds to hop back on Chan's couch and licks his face, surely an effective way. He immediately flinched at the wet contact and moved Berry's face away from his, slowly opening his eyes to meet an adorable face smiling at him. " Good morning to you too, " He replied followed with a yawn.
The King Charles Spaniel dog makes her way out of the room after accomplishing step one. While Chan took his time before completely getting out of bed - or rather, couch. With a few stretches and after taking a glance at the time, he made his way out of the room to make breakfast. He glanced towards your sleeping figure. Mumbling a silent, " Thank you. " for what you've done to him in the middle of the night before carefully closing the door behind him.
Before he could even reach the kitchen, a tug from his thumb stopped him in his tracks. Chan forgot that the string of fate only has a length of 7 meters. Sighing, he went back to you and thankfully found you still fast asleep.
Chan sat down on the edge of the bed, your back facing him. Once more, his dark brown eyes gazed upon your sleeping beauty state underneath the sunlight. Once more, he admired this mesmerizing view of you for a good few seconds. He lightly tapped your shoulder, causing you to shift your body to face him while responding with a hum. " Good morning, it's time to rise and shine, " He greeted in his husky morning voice, unknowingly smiling sweetly at you. You replied with a groan, covering your whole body with the comforter. " C'mon, let's go and have breakky. "
" You should've woken me up when breakfast is ready, " You whined, your voice muffled underneath the comforter. Chan chuckled then pulled down the comforter away from your face, " I would've if it wasn't for this string. Now come on. ". You groaned, feeling defeated. Sitting up on the bed, you opened your eyes to meet Chan's face filled with softness and joy. Seeing that first thing in the morning made you smile. It was lovely.
A loud bark from outside of the room interrupted, assuming that Berry's dying of hunger. You instinctively hopped off the bed and hastily made your way to Berry, Chan followed suit. At the kitchen, you both found Berry sitting in front of her food bowl, whimpering. " Oh no, the baby's hungry, " You cooed as you knelt down to pet her. " Chan, you can start making our breakfast, " He followed your instruction, putting on an apron and started preparing you two's breakfast.
" Where's her food, by the way? "
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" Are you sure we're gonna find him here? " You questioned, walking a little behind Chan at the same train station yesterday. His strides were big and quite fast which made it difficult for you to keep up at his pace. To the point that your eyes were set on the floor where you have a clear view of you two's feet. You're trying to match his pace but you immediately get worned out and fall behind once more. You guessed it was a CEO thing.
" Well, did you see him in any other places? " You fell silent, continuing to keep up with his pace. The fact that you've been asleep during that time and missed the chance to see who's behind this string of fate hit you. Chan's considered lucky to be awake and witness it.
Chan took a glance behind him to see your reaction, only to find you struggling to match with his settled pace. As soon as he noticed it, he slowed down and matched his pace with yours. Confused, you looked up at him. There were no signs of annoyance or pity on his face, and that made you delighted. What a considerate guy.
It wasn't that long until you both got in the train. The two of you sat down next to each other on a vacant bench and let the train lightly sway you as it starts moving. There was a comfortable silence lingering in the train car as you waited for this child to come into your view. Fortunately, the train's not as crowded as you thought it would be so it would be easier for you to spot the child.
After 3 more stops, you started to get distracted. Your eyes boring onto the view of the opposite window side. Chan kept cautious in his surroundings, still having high hopes of seeing the child's appearance. He didn't realize how much time had already passed and sooner or later, they'll reach the last stop. On the other hand, you slowly began to get drowsy. It's probably because you're sleep deprived for the past few weeks, over-working yourself since that Ms. Kang came into your life. You let your head rest on Chan's shoulder unconsciously which surprised him. With that, Chan first made sure you were comfortable, setting aside the thought of needing to meet the child. He hesitated first, though he did ended up wrapping his arm around you and kept you close to him. Feeling relaxed and secured, you shut your eyes as you slept in his warm embrace.
Chan noticed how much exhausted you are during the time he's been with you. He may not know exactly how tough your previous boss was to you, but it did show a huge impact on you. He thought that you looked so fragile underneath his touch, and he greatly feared the moment you might break. So he made sure to be careful with you. But other than that, he felt the urge - the need or wanting to protect you at that moment. He did questioned why, out of all people, he felt it from and because of you.
Maybe, it's because you looked so exquisite especially under the sunlight. Maybe, it's because he thought you looked adorable and amusing at the same time when you whine or complain. Maybe, it's because you're motherly especially to Berry.
Maybe, he just caught feelings for you. That's why he's questioning " why you? ", it was already love.
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Unfortunately for the both of you, you never got to encounter the mysterious child once more. Days have already passed, it has been almost a week. Yet to you and Chan's dismay, no signs of the boy at all. The both of you began to lose hope and just give up. Especially you.
You felt guilty for being the least focused between the two of you, leaving Chan more responsibilities. Find the mystic child and to look out for you. You weren't really in the best shape right now, Chan knew that. You easily got tired, tend to oversleep, and you're hella pale, which you knew well that it isn't so you. " I'm sorry, " You mumbled weakly, your legs crossed and back lean on the couch pillows. Trying to not lay down and sleep more since you did just woke up from a faint.
Hearing this, Chan head over to you then immediately refused. " No, no, no. It's alright, no need to apologize. Just focus on getting better right now, okay? " You replied with a small nod, his warm hands were on yours. That simple touch always made your blood color your cheeks and feel so shy. He went back to the kitchen to continue preparing your dinner as soon as he is satisfied with your answer. In the mean time, Berry made sure to keep you busy and entertained.
While Chan's dicing some pork on a cutting board, he took a glance at the red string wrapped around his thumb. He noticed a small difference to it ever since the first day you both tried to look for the child. It had more of a faint color red, losing its opaqueness. Almost like it's about to vanish which is at some point is a good thing. Though it still has its limitations for length and never broke at your own will. He wondered if you have noticed it as well. What would it be like to be back on your own lives? Chan would be lying if he managed to picture that when he felt disheartened just at the thought of it. He got used to your small complaints, you baby talking and spoiling his dog, needing to be taken care of - when you're unable to do it yourself, even the pocket knife in your bag, that he couldn't imagine you being gone. You did became apart of his life afterall and that left him thinking of making you stay. Chan already figured that he's starting to like you back then on the train, 1st day of hunting down the child.
Which got him pondering. Concluding to a theory that maybe, this string of fate isn't going to vanish. It was only starting to get invisible to your naked eye, just like what you originally thought it would function. But it will always be there no matter what. This string of fate just happens to be more translucent the more you both realize how much you love each other.
Chan tore his gaze away from the string, switching to your pale figure in the living room. Once he knew he could leave the food cooking for a while, he grabbed a glass of water and went back to you. " You like that friend of yours, huh? " You referred to Berry's favorite dog plush. Seeing Chan in your peripheral vision, you locked eyes with him. Beaming him the sweetest smile you could muster which he instantly returned. He offered you the drink and you gladly took it into your hands. Taking a sip, you could feel Chan's eyes burning through your skin. Heat rushes to your face just by that. It's frustrating how you're so easy when he's by your side and only with him. Frequently getting the butterflies, timid, blushy, heart racing, distracted by how ethereal he is, and everything related. And you completely denied your feelings for him.
Chan took a seat beside you, now looking at the pitch black night sky out of his window walls. Those dark brown orbs showed a hint of disappointment. Following his gaze, you figured out the reason. The sky's literally pitch black, starless. As well as the moon being nowhere in sight. The melancholic sight did brought a frown to your face and you couldn't stand it. Looking back at him, you realized that there's no need for you to be crestfallen. In fact, you should be in awe.
It seems like Chan took and held the whole galaxy in his eyes that's why the night sky is empty. His eyes twinkling and shining in the darkness. Many must've envied him for that and it feels so surreal to witness it in by your very own eyes. To have it in front of you. And maybe, just maybe.
You do like Bang Chan.
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" Where the hell are you taking me, Chan?! " You quietly panicked as Chan led you to an unfamiliar forest. Just the thought of the crawlies present in places like this made you shudder. " D-Do you really think the child would be brave enough to be here when I am already cowering in fear just looking at this? "
" We're not here for that child, " He chuckled at your state, continuing to walk ahead of you and deeper into the woods. Your wary eyes stayed restless, darting from left to right. " We're here to just relax. " Chan's voice began to echo the farther he is away from you.
You started to get pissed at how he started being inconsiderate and how relaxed he is right now, that's definitely not what you know about him. " What the fuck are you talking about?! So we're just wasting our ti- " The sudden raise of your voice resulted a noise in the forest - sounded like a bird flapping its wings. The sound made you flinch then you picked up your pace to get to him. You tugged onto Chan's jacket which caused him to stop and look back to you. " Chan, please, let's just go home. " You hushly pleaded from behind him, your head hung low in fear and embarrassment.
Sighing, Chan held both of your hands in his. Rubbing circles on it for you to ease up. The both of you still connected by the string of fate, which looks like it's bound to vanish soon. He also noticed how you're short in breath. " Easy, easy. Take deep breaths with me, yeah? " You matched his breathing with yours, eventually loosening up in his warmth like always. You just felt so safe and secure when you're with him. " Let's proceed? I promise you that when we get there, it'll be worth it. " He reassured, never leaving his grip on you.
" Chan.. " You whimpered and Chan instantly hushed you.
" If it makes you feel better, I'll never let go of you, " Oh how you wished that'll last forever. " Sounds good? " You nodded hesitantly.
With that, you let Chan lead you towards his destination. The comfort of his hands wrapped around yours never left on the way just like he promised. It wasn't too long until you saw light at the end of the forest. You could hear faint sounds of waves meeting the seashore and birds singing a melody. The fear you had a while ago slowly washed away as you're nearing the place.
Reaching the light, you witnessed the jaw dropping sight of the beach on the other side of the fence. Like Chan said, it is promising and worth it. He guided you in hopping onto an enormous boulder to get to the other side and you didn't complain, you're too drawn into the beach. In excitement, you went ahead of Chan, letting go of his grasp. Your feet immediately ushering you to the seashore where you could feel the cold water at your toes. As soon as you got here, you felt like you were cleansed. As if the sea took every problem, worries and fears away from you. It was healing and just the thought of it made you smile unknowingly. You never knew you needed this until now, it has been years since the last time you've been this carefree.
On the other hand, Chan's seated at his usual place. Where he could take in the whole view. Now that you were apart of it, everything seemed to set into place for his secret escapade paradise. All felt just right. The way you dance with the waves, moving with the sea, completely letting the rhythm of the water set yourself free. Plus the wind blowing your hair, your face glowing underneath the sun, how blinding your smile was at that moment, he cherished it all. " Perfect with no reasons, " Chan thought out loud as his eyes were trained on you. Unbeknownst to him, it was loud enough for you to hear it clearly.
" Perfect? " You questioned, making your way to his side. His eyes widened, alarmed. Chan looked away without hesitation. The tip of his ears starting to turn red in embarrassment. You sat down next to him, knowing that you'll be bringing some sand in your pockets back home. Noticing his ears, you let out a hearty laugh. " Aww, look at you! "
" I know, I know, " He started, covering his ears. " I'm helpless. "
" Huh? What are you talking about? " You asked while tilting your head to the side in confusion. There was a short pause, only the sound of waves continuously ringing in the area could be heard. As well as the sound of leaves rustling while the wind whispers sweet nothings to it and palm trees swaying from side to side.
" Like- "
" If this is you doubting yourself again, gosh Chan you're not the helpless one between the two of us. " You pointed out with your arms crossed. " You're a CEO of a well known company! Plus, who took care of me? You. Who saved my ass from Ms. Kang? You. Who just comforted me a while ago? You. You are never incapable or weak. If anyone told you otherwise, I- "
" I'm helplessly in love with you is what I meant, (Y/N)! " Chan confessed, now facing you.
Then, the thread in your fingers entirely loosened without any of you knowing.
The two of you locked eyes for a minute. Both surprised by everything, especially you. The wind did whisper something to the two of you, too. Yet it's difficult to figure it out at the moment. Even in broad daylight, his eyes still held the whole galaxy. And you could never let that dim.
" You walked into my life as if you've always lived there, like my heart was a home built just for you, " Chan continued, his hand already searching for yours. Looking down at your now intertwined hands, eyes filled with pure love and adoration. " It fits just like a glo- "
Perfect with no reasons.
Chan was taken by surprise at your sudden answer. You cutted him off, attaching your lips to his. Your free hand finding itself cupping his face. He then passionately responded to the kiss, his arm snaking its way around your waist to keep you close - now that the string of fate is invisible and endless. The kiss resulted you to feel so lightheaded. The softness of his lips brought you to euphoria, everything just felt so right in place. In the end, both of you were left breathless. You couldn't do anything for a few seconds after, keeping your eyes closed with mouth agape of you to try let your mind process what just happened.
You did't need for him to explain or give you anymore reasons why he loves you. The string of fate has always been the answer, reason and explanation to your love. Ever since the beginning, you and Chan are destined to meet regardless of the time, place or circumstances. It may stretch or tangle but nothing could break it and never will. You're one another's someone's someone who you can't live without.
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End.
144 notes · View notes
wayward-dreamer · 3 years
Text
The Right Direction
AO3 Link: Read Here
Square Filled: Dog walker!Jensen
Pairing: Dog walker!Jensen x Female!Dog walker!Reader
Word count: 2,839 (Wow! I wrote something under 5K lol!)
Rating: Teen
Summary: Sometimes the wrong direction can turn out to be the right one.
Warnings: Some swearing, a bunch of cute dogs, fluff.
Created for @spnaubingo
A/N: This is written for @downanddirtydean‘s 500 followers challenge! Prompt is in bold. I hope you like it twin!! Thank you @deanwanddamons​ for being a beta on this! As always, I’d love to hear what you all think! Happy reading and enjoy! :)
Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 
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A wet nose and soft fur were the first things she felt on her hand every morning. Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, a groan leaving her as they adjusted to the light in the room. She felt the bed shift and heard the sound of a collar shaking, her smile growing as the furry ball landed in her lap. She stroked her little Corgi’s fluffy hair, kissing the top of his head.
“Morning, Ringo.” She planted another kiss on his head, her hands alternating between squishing his face and running over his light brown and white fluffy coat. “Someone hungry?”
Ringo licked his lips, signalling he was more than ready for breakfast.
“Alright, come on,” she muttered as she gently dropped him down on the floor of her bedroom.
Y/N got up from her bed, laughing as Ringo scurried out of the door ahead of her, stopping to wait impatiently near his bowl. His round behind wiggled, excited to be receiving his breakfast as Y/N picked up the bag of dog food, dropping some into the metal bowl.
“Stay,” she commanded, watching his innocent brown eyes look up at her. Waiting for a few seconds, she smiled. “Eat.”
Ringo gave his lips another lick, bending down and gobbling up a few pieces of dry food at a time. She smiled at him and then went about getting ready for the morning, quickly changing into her sweatpants and oversized sweater, throwing her hair up in a messy bun. By the time she was ready, Ringo was finished eating.
“Alright, shall we go?” she said, bending down in front of him and petting under his chin. She clipped his leash onto his collar, patting him at the same time. “Now, I’m trusting you to be good with the other dogs, so you better listen to me. Okay?”
Ringo gave her a little whine, causing her to lift an eyebrow. “Ringo.”
His paws started to tap excitedly against the floorboards, making Y/N give him a smile. “Good boy,” she said, scratching behind his head and standing up.
She quickly grabbed her keys, phone and wallet, heading out the door of her apartment, and walking down a few flights of stairs, Ringo in tow. She knocked on the door of an apartment, smiling as Mrs. Morris greeted her. She held the leash of her 6-year-old Border Collie, Betty, in her hand and smiled at her.
“Morning, Y/N. How are you?” she asked, as Betty’s tail wagged excitedly when she saw Ringo, more than ready for her walk.
“I’m great, Mrs. Morris. How are you?”
“Oh, you know, can’t complain,” the older woman said, handing her the leash. “Betty’s a little too excited this morning.”
Y/N patted Betty a few times, shaking her head. “I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
With a goodbye, she walked Betty and Ringo down the last two flights of stairs, and out onto the sidewalk. She held onto the leashes, enjoying the sun but there was as a slight chill against her face on the bright autumn morning. They walked for about ten minutes, picking up more dogs along the way. A Bulldog, a Pomeranian and a Chihuahua. Y/N walked them into the dog park, knowing how much they loved to run around and play with each other. They were all from the same neighborhood and socially used to each other, making her job much easier. However, Y/N was in desperate need of caffeine, having forgone a cup at home to get the dogs. Making a quick stop at a vendor, she paid for her steaming cup of black coffee and continued to walk them all down the path in the park, trying to find a clear spot to sit down and let them run around.
Y/N kept the dogs in front of her, all of their leashes in one hand, and her drink in the other, trying to get away from unfamiliar pets they hadn’t interacted with yet. As she smiled down at her fur friends for the morning, she basked in the peacefulness of the walk.
Suddenly, Y/N screamed as she collided with another dog walker, a man completely distracted with his phone and not watching what the German Shepherd and Golden Retriever he was walking were doing. Her shoulder got knocked backwards, her arm coming up and spilling her piping hot coffee all down the front of her sweater. She screamed again as the liquid seeped through the material, making contact with  her skin. Thankfully, the sweater she was wearing was thick and she didn’t get severely burnt by the hot beverage.
“Oh my god! I am so, so sorry!” the man apologized, steadying the dog’s leash as he stashed his phone away.
“Sorry?! Watch where you’re going next time, you asshole!” she yelled, using her free hand to wipe the front of her sweater with her sleeve. She hadn’t even looked up at the man yet, focusing on cleaning herself. Her ever loyal companion, Ringo growled at the other dogs, who were slightly bigger than him and were growling back.
“Ringo, it’s okay,” Y/N said, calmly as she pulled lightly on all the leashes, moving the animals  behind her legs. They were all starting to bark, getting riled up by the man’s German Shepherd and Golden Retriever.
“I really am sorry,” the man said, as he pulled the dog he was walking back, “He gets really excited when he comes here, and I was trying to message someone-”
“Well maybe don’t do that,” she grumbled, soaking up the coffee with her sleeve as best as she could. She finally looked up, her eyes blinking as she took in the guy who bumped into her. He was incredibly gorgeous, with green eyes that looked guilty and soft and plump lips that he was biting into. She looked like an absolute mess in her casual attire, and here he was, towering over her and looking like a male model in a dog park.
“Please let me buy you another,” he said, sheepishly as he pointed to her shirt.
She shook her head, a little stunned by the good-looking man in front of her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
“I feel terrible,” he muttered, frowning as he gestured to the German Shepherd “He pulled suddenly while I was texting. It’s no excuse, I know, but he must’ve gotten excited when he saw your dogs.”
“It’s really okay,” Y/N reassured him. She felt awful for yelling at him now that she saw how apologetic he was, “They’re not mine. I’m a dog walker. Only the Corgi belongs to me.”
“I am too, but this guy is mine,” he smiled, gesturing to the German Shepherd next to him, who was now sitting and looking up at Y/N. “His name’s Jagger.”
“Jagger? As in Mick?” she asked, chuckling.
“Yeah,” he replied, smiling. He patted the top of the Golden Retriever’s head, smiling. “This is Astro. Neighbor’s kid is a big Jetsons fan.”
Y/N laughed, gesturing to her best friend in the whole world, “This is Ringo.”
“As in Starr?” he asked, smirking.
She laughed again, nodding. “Yeah. The Border is Betty, the Bulldog is Jackson, the Pom is Mimi, and the Chihuahua is Coco.”
“Ringo and Jagger… we sure know how to pick some good names,” he said, smiling at her.
“Yeah,” she agreed, smiling back at him. “Anyway, I should get going.”
“I really feel awful about this,” he muttered, frowning. “Can I make it up to you some time?”
She bit her lip, smiling as she shrugged. “We’ll see.” She would have to think about it, considering they had just met, and it wasn’t exactly the greatest first meeting.
“I’m Jensen, by the way.” He offered his hand, smiling softly at her. She took it in hers and felt the butterflies in her stomach begin to flutter.
“Y/N,” she said, smiling back at him. She looked down when she felt a wet nose against her hand, seeing Jagger nudging at her hand. She crouched down and patted him down, scratching behind his ears. The dogs tried to move around her to get to him, but she kept nudging them away, lightly. He whined when she stood up, pulling on his leash as he tried to follow her.
“Jagger, no. We gotta go, man,” Jensen told the dog, steering him in the other direction with Astro in tow.
With one last look at the man who she was totally caught off guard by, Y/N led the dogs away, unfortunately having to cut their walk short.  Jensen smiled as he turned and watched her walk away, hoping that he would see her again. He felt terrible and just hoped he had another shot to get to talk to Y/N. He had seen her from across the park before the collision happened. She was beautiful and despite the horrible circumstance, the moment their eyes met he knew he was done for.
They always say dogs have the best instinct about people, and Jensen was happy to know that Y/N was a good person according to Jagger’s eagerness to go with her. He just hoped there would be no hot coffee in the way of him getting to talk to her the next time he saw her.
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A few days had passed since the incident in the park. Y/N was back there again, this time only with Ringo, and it was just after lunch. She handed in her article for the week, meeting her deadline a day early and decided to take her fluff ball for a run around in the dog park once she had submitted the article to her editor. She laughed as he ran circles around her on the grass, a blur of brown and white fur. As he continued to run, Y/N’s attention was suddenly taken away from him, as she heard someone clear their throat behind her. She turned and smiled, seeing the handsome dog walker who bumped into her a few days ago, a white cup in one hand, the leash to his beautiful German Shepherd in the other.
“A peace offering?” he stated.
“You didn’t have to,” she said, shaking her head.
He held out the cup insistently, smiling when she took it. “Yes, I did.”
She held her palm out, allowing the dog to come near her. The animal sniffed her a few times and licked her hand.  Y/N instantly moved her hand behind his ears to pet him. “He’s gorgeous.” As is his owner she thought to herself as she looked at Jensen, “How old is he?”
“He’s four,” Jensen told her, smirking. “Still acts like a puppy sometimes, though.”
“Aren’t they always a puppy no matter how big they get?” she asked, chuckling. Jagger started nudging against Y/N, wanting her to play with him. Jensen smiled, glad that his dog approved of her.
“Yeah,” he nodded, and looked down as Ringo came running to her, interested to see who her new friend was. Ringo hopped excitedly towards Jagger, not intimidated by the size difference between them at all.
“Hey buddy, you remember Jagger?” she asked, smiling brightly. She crouched down, calming him slightly as Jagger began to growl. Jensen got down to the dog’s level, holding him back slightly.
“Hey, behave,” Jensen commanded.
Comforting both of the dogs, Jensen let Jagger move forward a little first. He sniffed Ringo as Y/N let him go slightly too, to do the same. They tried to figure each other out, and one lick from Jagger had Ringo running off, turning to see if he would follow. Jensen let him off the leash, watching as he ran off, both of them play- fighting as they rolled over on the grass. Y/N and Jensen stood back, watching their dogs become fast friends.
“He doesn’t take to small dogs so quickly,” Jensen remarked as he watched his German Shepherd play with the small Corgi.
“Ringo loves every dog he comes across,” Y/N said, smiling as she watched them play. “So, I’m glad he found another friend.”
“Me too,” he muttered, smiling. “Jagger’s been lonely. I keep thinking I should get another one just so he doesn’t feel it anymore.”
“Well, until you do… he’s welcome to play with Ringo,” she stated, smiling at the gorgeous man next to her. The butterflies had returned, and she was finding it hard to keep her cool around him.
“Thanks.” Jensen smiled back at her, trying not to hold eye contact with her for longer than necessary, suddenly nervous to be near to her again.
After that afternoon, Jensen and Y/N had a standing meeting every Thursday afternoon in the dog park. As Jagger and Ringo played together, Y/N and Jensen would talk about everything they could before the dogs exhausted themselves. They discussed how they got the dogs, what they did for a living apart from dog walking (Jensen told her he worked at a brewery and Y/N told him she wrote for the paper), their favourite movies, books, music and more. By the fourth meeting, Y/N was hoping that he would ask her out on an official date. She knew she couldn’t be the only one feeling an attraction between them and wished more than anything that he would pluck up the courage and ask her. Maybe she would have to if he didn’t, but that was something she had never done before.
On the day of their usual meeting, Y/N and Jensen strolled the length of the park, walking Jagger and Ringo side by side. Every now and then, they would turn and smile at each other, as Jensen kept telling himself to open his mouth and ask her out on a date. Letting the dogs off their leashes, the owners watched on as they did every week, the dogs now absolute best friends. A brown leaf fell from the tree branch above Jensen and Y/N, landing on her nose and getting stuck there. Jensen laughed as he leaned over, using his thumb and forefinger to remove it.
“Thanks,” she whispered, looking up at him. Their bodies were close, both of them in slightly warmer clothes now that the weather was turning.
“No problem,” he mumbled, smiling. He looked out ahead at the park, worrying his lip as he thought about how to approach the subject of asking her on a date. “Okay, so…”
“What’s up?” she asked,  her stomach fluttering at the thought that the moment had finally arrived.
“I, uh… I really like you, Y/N,” he told her, his smile becoming wider as he turned to her.
“I really like you too, Jensen,” she said, beaming up at him.
He sighed in relief, nodding. “Okay, so then… I would love to- I mean that is if you want to, I really want to take you on a non-dog park date.” Dear Lord, this isn’t going well he told himself as he cringed at his bad attempt to ask her out.
“You know…” She laughed as she looked into his eyes. “Must be hard with your sense of direction. Never being able to find your way to a decent pick-up line.”
Jensen chuckled nervously, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“Nope,” she said, smiling as she winked.
A moment passed as they continued to look at each other. Jensen backtracked, a little more confident this time.
Taking a deep breath, he looked at her. “Y/N, would you like to go out for dinner with me?”
She smiled up at him, finding him so adorable in that moment. “Yes.”
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The first date turned into a second. The second into a third. They would meet up in the dog park, some days with Jagger and Ringo, and others with all the others they would walk on a regular basis. With huddles of dogs of different breeds, they walked closer and closer to each other, stealing kisses and loving looks.
Dates and dog walking turned into getting down on one knee, the ring box clipped to Ringo’s collar as Jensen asked Y/N if she wanted to spend her life with him, with Jagger in tow.
They married in a small ceremony, with Jagger and Ringo at their feet, more than happy to be best fur friends forever.
And eventually… the news of an addition to their little family came, with Jensen and Y/N completely over the moon with the dogs getting a human brother or sister.
Y/N sat on the couch, smiling as she patted Jagger and Ringo’s heads, both of them sitting on either side of her, their noses close to her growing belly. Jensen walked in, a bowl of popcorn in his hand, settling into the couch next her, putting Ringo’s body over his legs. Y/N turned to him and leaned in, kissing his lips softly as he turned to her.
They say that dogs have great instinct.
And for that, Jensen and Y/N would always be grateful to have two fur companions that brought them into each other’s lives.
-x-
If you’re crossed out, Tumblr won’t let me tag you :(
Tags: @deanwanddamons @winchest09 @downanddirtydean @jensengirl83 @wonder-cole @that-one-gay-girl @flamencodiva @ellewritesfix05 @roonyxx @akshi8278 @hobby27 @michellethetvaddict @spngirl05 @kyjey @halesandy @440mxs-wife @stoneyggirl @deanswaywardgirl @redbarn1995 @marianita195 @babypink224221 @deans-baby-momma @parinarain @thoughts-and-funnies @mandalou29 @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @superaveng @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @prettyboyswow @lunarmoon8 @supernatural-bellawinchester
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doberbutts · 3 years
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pompilini
I can confirm doodles/beardy dogs absolutely have trouble seeing through the bangs. I have to trim my guy every two weeks if I dont want his vision suffer. At least in his case, he's off if he has too much hair (like you'd expect, he's less confident and more distracted), but it's subtle enough that I think it'd be hard to pin down or to even peg as an issue for a lot of people.
I've met other less even-tempered doodle types that are prone to startles and big reactions and I wouldn't be surprised if visibility was a factor there at all.
Oh yes, I used to live with a poodle that was always kept very long, and if his hair was not pulled/banded out of his eyes it was almost a guarantee that he’d startle badly at something because he was constantly walking into walls and sort of feeling around with his feet if he thought he was going to bonk into something. This is also, btw, why I say that if people are going to rag on certain breeds for not being able to survive well without human intervention, then they are going to have to include these fuzzy dogs in that.
This particular dog was also very fearful, and I think that’s just genetic temperament tbh, but I don’t think the occasionally legit not being able to see helped with that at all.
The discussion of sight and how it relates to specifically fear and aggression in dogs is always an interesting one. We know that dogs do not always register pain as coming from the source it’s actually coming from- like a toddler they can build associations and superstitions from undiagnosed/untreated pain and the behaviors that may cause them pain even by accident. A dog that stepped on a thorn may be wary later of walking in that same patch of ground, or it may be several days later when the infected sore bursts against hot concrete and now the dog has a serious aversion to sidewalks or being on leash.
It makes sense to me, then, that a dog that is already constantly unsure and second-guessing what it sees will eventually have a spectacularly bad experience at some point, and a dog that is already unsteady is just waiting to explode once that threshold line is crossed. The big reaction could simply be from them already having felt fear and stress due to being unconfident in their environment/not trusting their eyes, and because that’s the dog’s “normal” there’s no way to tell when the dog is becoming overwhelmed if you’re not already on the lookout for the subtle signs. Otherwise your sign is whatever big dramatic reaction the dog has when it finally does guess wrong and does not like that possibility.
I recall a conversation about Pangur and her very dramatic reaction to a roommate walking into the room despite knowing and liking said roommate, and we eventually came to the realization that the specific room this was happening in was very well lit... which is a problem for an albino cat that likely has the severe photosensitivity and low vision in bright lighting. At that point, she can only react to what she’s able to process, which could be simply a large shadowy shape has entered the room and is coming right at her, and that could explain the “OH MY GOD A MONSTER” reaction here while other times she begs said roommate for affection.
A friend of mine lives in Florida and has a big sun-lit room with bright white tile floors. Her albino doberman on these floors acts like he’s completely unable to see where the floor actually is. He does the thing where he reaches out with a paw and test-steps several times before committing to putting his weight down on that foot, wash rinse repeat. If a toy is on that floor, he will puff up and snarl and bark at it and even when recalled away will continue to hard stare and growl in the toy’s direction. The same toy could be put on a different floor in a different room and he will ignore or play with it. He does the same if one of those big flying roaches or a lizard gets into that room, and her photos of him in that room are with his eyes squinted almost completely shut. I don’t think he can see in that room, and what little he’s able to make out he doesn’t trust, and so it comes out as fear and aggression because he doesn’t know what else to do with what he thinks is there.
I recently had a shih tzu client that is very aggressive for grooming, especially around his face. We’ve been working really hard on getting him to calm down, but one of the big turning points we had was when we finally got him to let us shave around his eyes and trim his head/beard. Suddenly being able to see us comforting him and talking to him seemed to calm him immensely. Of course! He’d already had some trauma related to grooming and now he can’t see what’s happening when these strangers are touching him all over! Suddenly we’re able to comb him fully, give him a sanitary, pick out some knots trying to become mats, etc and he stood there happily wagging his tail at the bather who was talking nicely to him to help him through it.
Anyway. I feel like vision concerns aren’t brought up as factors for some of these behavioral cases when they should be. I’ve seen time and time again that limiting a dog’s sight whether because of a health problem or because of gear/necessity seems to always up your chances for a Big Problem later on, and it’s interesting to see that as well in other animals that rely on their sight as well. Sight might not be THE number one factor for how a dog navigates their world, but clearly it’s important enough that lacking it can create some pretty serious behavior concerns.
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hi<3 okay i am finally writing the new kotss chapter, and once again here is a lil contemplative snippet of tumblr-drabble length as a preview for when i write the whole thing in a day or two!😌💜 (mostly bc i am feeling sleepy and sappy this morning about mickey’s growth and just. cannot get over it.)
hope u enjoy<3
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He fucking loved the dog, okay?
When they were first waiting in that overly-bright room in the dog rescue center (or whatever the fuck it was called) with Ian sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of him, and Mickey had seen the bundle of fur with its paws hitting the ground, a scrawny puppy with a swollen belly and a protruding ribcage— he’d immediately known he was in trouble.
First, because there was no fucking way that Ian was going to let them leave this place without it, since he practically made heart-eyes the second the puppy stumbled its way over to him— and second, because Mickey was absolutely, totally sure that he was going to fuck this up. Even reading the fucking description on the website on Ian’s phone screen, “comes from a troubled past and needs a loving home,” made something twist in his gut— because how the fuck was Mickey supposed to provide something like that?
Mickey didn’t take care of shit like this, like fragile puppies or babies or anything he could mess up— and he especially didn’t let in anything more than he could handle losing, anything soft and helpless and innocent that he couldn’t let slip between his fingers on his own accord. He’d learned that shit early, when whatever whispers and soft traces of touches on his cheeks were ripped away by the pry of Terry’s calloused hands— when one day, when he was fifteen, he and Mandy and everyone else didn’t have a mom anymore. Losing his mom, losing his family after years on the road, even losing fucking Terry those now months ago; all of that shit compounded and pressed on the walls of his ribcage in a way that Mickey himself didn’t really understand, and apparently was oozing out of him in a fucking dog shelter as he stood there frozen, in the face of a helpless frame on wobbly legs with silky grey fur.
For some reason, even though he and Ian had been talking about the dog in the abstract for days now, something about seeing the dog scared him shitless— because taking care of shit was objectively scary, and Mickey was shit out of practice with it. He’d never been good, comfortable, at holding something fragile in his hands, something that he could mess up in a second with a slip of judgement. Mickey was great at getting shit done, but with something like this— well, honestly, he wasn’t sure if he trusted himself enough, to not make those split-second choices that Terry made, the ones that left cigarette burns on his sides and snapped his jaw out of place and left him with so many aching wounds that only became more dark and cavernous through the years.
I’m gonna fuck this up.
What if he got too mad and kicked the dog, what if he fed it the wrong shit and it withered away and became more frail than it already was, what if it ran away or got hit by a car or got fucking shot by a stray bullet in a shitty neighborhood? It felt scary to choose to care about something this fragile, to sign up for the loss and the ripping ache that would follow if Mickey overreacted or fucked something up or made a slip-second misstep. In the Milkovich family, loving was a liability— a promise that someone you cared about could get pummeled and bloodied and beaten in front of you, could get handcuffed and dragged upstate for months or years in the blink of an eye. When Mickey was fifteen, scratching “FUCK LOVE” and “STAY THE FUCK OUT” signs on pieces of cardboard with Sharpies he’d stolen from the dollar store, he’d made a promise to himself to harden himself against that weakness— against that loss.
And then, of course, freckle-faced chicken-legged Ian Gallagher showed up at his doorstep anyways.
So he’d let himself love Gallagher—and eventually he’d let himself love Franny after she plopped herself in his lap one day, wearing a princess tiara talking a mile a minute about monster trucks; and he didn’t even mind hanging out with Liam once in a while on those late nights in the Gallagher house, when Ian would be working a double shift and he and Liam flopped on opposite sides of the couch, watching shitty cartoons in a comfortable silence as the glow from the TV screen flickered on their faces.
But none of that felt like a choice—all of those people, those warm bodies to love, just fell into Mickey’s lap; so it wasn’t Mickey’s fault, really, if shit hit the fan. It wasn’t like he made the choice to love them in the first place— it just happened.
But adopting a dog (or having a fucking kid, like he knew Ian wanted)— that was a choice. That was telling something, someone, that you were ready to take care of them; that you were ready to lose everything when they inevitably got taken away, that you were ready to pour all of your fucked-up bullshit into someone and hope that you weren’t the reason why they turned out screwed up. It just seemed like too much; and in the face of the tiny fucking furball that Ian was cooing over as he sat cross-legged, Mickey’s immediate impulse was to keep his distance and tether himself into the linoleum floor miles away.
But of course Ian had done that fucking thing only he had the power to do, and melted whatever iron walls Mickey had soldered into place with a gentle Mick, d’you wanna pet her?— and of course the fucking dog had to nuzzle her goddamn tiny wet nose into Mickey’s hand, and give a too-trusting lick to his palm as she rolled over onto her back, exposing her vulnerable belly even after whatever fucking dog-fight bullshit she’d been through— and immediately Mickey couldn’t couldn’t see a timeline in which they didn’t wrap this fucking mutt up in a soft towel and take her home to the dog bed in their apartment and get her healthy on gourmet fucking dog food from a monogrammed tin bowl.
So even though it drove him fucking crazy that she was so fucking skinny, and the entire first night when she’d slept curled on the bed he kept waking up and googling the best dog foods and exercise regimens and refilling her water bowl at the kitchen sink like an obsessed fucking maniac— he really couldn’t help it.
Against every instinct, he’d chosen to love when he didn’t have to— and he was starting the realize that maybe that shit wasn’t a weakness.
**
“So, I hear you guys’ve got a new mascot.”
Tommy was ambling in the front door, right on the dot of their 2 P.M. opening time, with Kermit skittishly following a few paces behind him.
Ian rolled his eyes from behind the bar when he thought Mickey wasn’t looking (fucking traitor).
“Yeah, I think the whole neighborhood knows by now. Someone’s been a little too eager with the dog photos.”
Which— fuck that. So what if he fucking posted a few pictures of Baz to the mostly-defunct Alibi Facebook page that Kev had given them the login info to, some of which featured Baz wearing Mickey’s sunglasses when they were partway through a walk? Nobody needed to know that Mickey alone was behind that shit— Ian liked taking dog photos too, even though they were never as good as Mickey’s, and mostly just featured the moments Mickey was passed out on the couch with Baz sleeping on his chest.
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
Ian grinned and turned towards Mickey. “Nothin.’ Just nice to see that you’re growing into the whole dog parent thing. Though it is kind of turning into a stage mom thing.”
Mickey furrowed his brows. “Fuck you. The customers love her. It’s good for business.”
Ian held up his hands in surrender, still smirking—which just cause Mickey to shove him gently in his sternum.
“It’s not my fault Baz is the prettiest pit on the fucking Southside.”
In the corner of the bar, Baz was sitting on her cushion that they’d bought at a boujee pet store down the road, to keep downstairs at the Alibi so they could keep her other dog bed upstairs— and when Tommy and Kermit came into the room her ears immediately lifted, her tail twitching excitedly at the new faces. Tommy just gave a wary side-eyed glance to the dog pillow before plopping himself onto his usual stool, but Kermit nervously crouched beside the cushion and gave Baz’s chin a scratch.
“Ey! Paws off the princess until you drop some money on a beer, Kermit. I didn’t haul myself down to the empty bar on a Monday afternoon to watch you pet my fucking dog.”
Kermit shuffled to his usual seat beside Tommy at the end of the bar. “She’s cute. I didn’t realize pit bulls could be so scrawny.”
Baz was already filling out fast in the few days she’d been living with them; but it was true that she was still small and wiry for her age. Mickey made sure they got some sort of fresh dog food shit from the pet store that they had to keep in the refrigerator (even though Ian insisted kibble was fine, like a fucking cheapskate) to get her strength up, and he also got a bunch of fucking vitamins, like salmon oil and shit to make sure her coat was shiny—and yes, okay, maybe he also bought her a badass collar with spikes on it, and maybe he also dropped money on one of those engraved pet tags in the shape of a skull and crossbones that said “Bazooka Gallagher-Milkovich” on it with the Alibi’s address on it. He couldn’t fucking help it; they had a steady stream of cash coming in from crowded nights, they were planning on doing Ian’s karaoke shit once a month, and Mickey felt like they could afford to spend money on shit like this—like they could afford to do this right. And because of Mickey’s doting, even though Ian had started to take Baz for runs in the morning, it was no secret that she liked Mickey ever-so-slightly more than Ian; when they were laying in bed at night Baz would always hop up and curl into Mickey’s side and leave inches between her and Ian, causing a surprised chuckle to escape Mickey’s lips the first time it happened as he scratched behind her ears. Ian just stared at him, with some sappy fucking smile on his face.
“The fuck’re you looking at?”
“Nothing. Just glad we took her home.”
Mickey rolled his eyes, but felt a smile creeping onto his lips despite himself. “Yeah. Me too.”
“And I’m definitely not jealous of a dog right now.”
**
It was later in the evening and the bar was pretty empty, a standard for a Monday night— Mickey had been trying to train Baz to stay on her cushion now that she’d learned how to sit and lay down on command; much to the amusement of Tommy and Kermit, who kept fucking distracting her. If Mickey had his way, he’d train Baz to bark at Kermit whenever he said something stupid (the guy just got on his fucking nerves, what could he say)—but of course Baz had other plans once she realized Kermit was the one of the pair who would pet her, and kept nuzzling her head onto Kermit’s thigh and thumping her tail on the floor.
“I thought pit bulls were supposed to be vicious.”
“Fuck you, Kermit. That’s fucking… dog racist, or some shit.”
Kermit just meekly looked down at his half-empty beer glass, as Ian came in the front door from where he was bringing in the sandwich board from the curb, not expecting any more customers for the night. He reached down to ruffle Baz’s fur along the way.
“How’s our girl doing?”
“Pretty good. Once these assholes get out of here we can called it a night.”
Tommy scoffed at that. “Milkovich, we’re some of your most loyal customers— hell, we’re your only loyal customers. I think we deserve more than insults.”
“Oh yeah? You gonna go drink the day away somewhere else?”
Tommy faltered for a moment, and raised an eyebrow. “Touche.”
“Alright, bozos. Time to pack up. No one else is coming in tonight, we’ll see you tomorrow. Me and Ian have better shit to do.”
Tommy drained the last of his beer, placing a wad of one-dollar bills on the countertop and giving an exaggerated salute. “Until tomorrow, gentlemen.”
When they left the bar and the doors were locked, Ian’s shoulders started to shake with laughter. “Jesus. I never thought I’d be at a point in my life when I’m dependent on the consistent generosity of Tommy and Kermit, but here I am.”
“More like consistent alcoholism.”
Ian smirked, then flopped to sit on a barstool opposite the countertop from Mickey, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Are you fine taking Baz out? I’m kinda tired, wanna get a start on dinner.”
“Yeah, man. Works for me.”
They’d been living with each other in the Gallagher house for months, sure, but they were still new at doing this— at only accounting for each other’s schedules, at divvying up tasks like walking the dog and cooking dinner and doing fucking dishes rather than just coasting on someone like Debbie getting them by. Things were different now— things were settled and quiet, in a way that still made Mickey like he had to rub his eyes extra hard to clear them in the still, dark mornings in the apartment, like he wasn’t convinced this shit was real.
After dinner they sat cross-legged on their bed, watching a movie on Ian’s old beat-up laptop with Baz sitting between them and chewing on one of her toys that squeaked loudly every few seconds (this one was a stuffed animal in the shape of a police officer, because in Mickey’s own words at the pet store, “ACAB motherfucker”)— and later that night, wrapped in the smell of laundry soap on clean sheets and dog shampoo, Mickey slept easily.
Maybe this was something he could trust himself to hold on to.
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Request - Dark alley
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a/n: I’m sorry @scorpionchild81​ that it took so long for me to answer your request, I didn’t forget about you. I’m not used to writing angsty stories so this was a real challenge for me. But thank you for trusting me with your idea and giving me a chance to improve as a writer. I hope you like how it turned out!
Pairing: Henry x plus-size reader
Warnings: physical assault, language, brutality, fluff at the end
Words: 2735
Summary: It’s pretty much all in the request...
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Ever since you and Henry made your relationship official, you’ve been receiving quite the amount of hate, mostly over Instagram. You figured that it would probably be problematic since you weren’t the skinniest girl and you’re not what you call a “model-type”, someone Henry would clearly deserve, but he chose you. You thought you had braced yourself enough before going public, but sadly that wasn’t the case.
Henry reassured you every day that you weren’t only enough for him, but everything he could have ever dreamed of and it always calmed you down. You had always restrained yourself from answering any DMs you got or commenting under hate posts until they got really personal and you just had to clap back.
You might have gone a little overboard as you were a bit drunk when it happened. Also, Henry was away filming and not there to distract you as usual. You didn’t think about it any further that night and went to sleep.
A few days later, you were walking home from work, it was already late. You always put in the extra hours when Henry was away. You didn’t like spending too much time home alone and you had at least another two weeks of that.
You took a short cut, a little dark alley you always took, you didn’t even think too much about it until you heard steps behind you. You threw a little look over your shoulder and saw about three women a few feet behind you. As they were just women, you didn’t think about it too much and kept on walking.
After another few steps, you felt them coming closer quite quickly. You threw another look over your shoulder and this time, the one in the middle, a tall brown-haired woman, made eye contact with you. “Can I help you?”, you asked, stopping in your steps and turning around.
“Yeah, why don’t you apologize for being such a piece of shit?”, she came straight at you. “Excuse me?!”, you asked her with big eyes. The women to her left and right crossed their arms in front of their bodies and stared at you.
“I read your comment on my post, bitch. Does Henry know how you talk to his fans? You should be happy he even looks at you. I don’t know he manages to get hard around your big ass body, so gross. Does he fuck you with his eyes closed thinking of his exes?”, she threw at you. At that moment you realized that she was the one that had posted the hate you replied to a couple of days ago.
“Shut the fuck up, you don’t know what you’re talking about”, you opposed. “Don’t tell me to shut up, bitch. Our man has suffered enough being with a stupid ass bitch like you and we have enough. It’s time for you to get your fat ass out of here and leave him alone”, she said as she came at you.
She raised her hand in an attempt to bitch-slap you across the face but you blocked her arm with yours. But while you were concentrated on the one in front of you, you didn’t see her friend coming at you from the side. Before you could even turn around, you felt a sharp pain in your knee as she kicked it. Your knees gave in and you dropped to the floor.
Next, you felt some hands pushing you to the ground and you landed on your side, your head hitting the street. Your hands came up to cover your face.
You felt a kick in your ribs and the sharp pain caused you to feel nauseous. Something heavy hit your head. It felt like someone’s handbag. Something rough on the bags outside scratched over your forehead and you felt a stinging pain.
“Stop! Please stop!”, you tried to scream but your voice was so weak. You pulled your legs close to your body, just waiting for it to be over. Your whole body was hurting but you also felt kind of numb. It was so surreal, you never thought something like this would ever happen to you.
“Hey, get off her! Stop it! I called the police!”, you heard someone shout. Your right ear was ringing after they threw the bag on your head again. And suddenly it stopped. You heard screams and quick steps on the street as the three women were running away. You didn’t dare to get your hands off your face.
You heard shuffling steps coming towards you and braced yourself for another attack, thinking they had come back. When you felt a hand on your upper arm, you flinched, turning away, bracing yourself for another attack.
“They’re gone, you’re safe”, you heard another woman’s voice. “Shh, it’s all going to be alright now”, she said and tried to get you to look at her.
You slowly put your hands down, blinking at the street lights behind her. You were looking at a slightly older woman, maybe in her late fifties. “Oh my god, dear. We need to get you to a hospital. Come on”, she said and helped you up.
Your whole body was shaking, your legs were weak. On the side where your knee got kicked, you limped. With the help of the woman, she got you out of the little alley and onto the main road. She called a taxi and drove with you to the emergency room.
She explained to the nurse what happened and stayed with you during the whole exam. She also didn’t leave your side when they called the police for you to give a statement. The woman that had practically saved you gave her statement as well.
When the officers asked you if you wanted to press charges, you negated out of fear this would happen again, that they would find you again. But your savior encouraged you to do it anyway, advising you to not give them the power over you. So, you did press charges against anonymous. The woman helped you with the descriptions of the women’s looks and appearances.
When you left the hospital with your guardian angel, you had three bruised ribs and a bruised knee on your right side and a little cut on your forehead. Thankfully, you didn’t need stitches, but you had several stripes holding the wound together. You also had a mild concussion from several hits to your head.
“Is someone waiting for you at home, dear?”, she asked you, looking concerned, when you were waiting for your taxi in front of the hospital. “Yes, I’ll be fine”, you lied to her, not knowing you actually wasn’t lying.
What you didn’t know at this point was that Henry had come home earlier. He didn’t call or text you to surprise you. He went grocery shopping and made you dinner. When you didn’t show up at your usual time, he just figured you were working overtime as you used to do when he was away shooting a movie or his new tv show The Witcher.
When it got pretty late, he was checking his phone for any messages. He called your phone but it went straight to voicemail. Maybe you were out with some of your girlfriends. He packed up the dinner in boxes and put it in the fridge. But he wanted to wait up for you.
 When you came home, some painkillers in your bag, you were limping to your door. You didn’t notice the light was on in your house.
Just when you closed the door behind you, you heard quick taps of paws on your wooden floors before Kal came sprinting towards you. “Hey! What are you doing here?”, you said surprised, really happy to see him.
The big dog was so excited to see you, he ran around you and jumped up to lick your face. You spun around to follow him and got down on your knees to pat him, hissing at the pain in your right knee. You shifted your weight on your left leg as you ran your hand through his fur, facing the front door.
Henry came out of the living room and leaned against the doorframe, watching the two of you with a smile. He was happy to see you again even if it was just your back for now.
You were so happy to see your favorite bear again, especially in this hour of need. You were so happy that you didn’t think for a moment that wherever Kal was, Henry was too.
“Hey, my love. I thought you’d never come home tonight”, he said and you froze in your movements. Kal wanted you to keep petting him and nudged your hand with his nose, pushing his head forward in excitement and pressing into your right side like he normally did. You hissed as the sharp pain shot through your whole body, your hand holding your side.
“I wanted to surprise you, so I didn’t call…”, he continued until he heard you hissing. “Are you alright, Y/N?”, he asked and pushed himself off the doorframe.
Fuck, you needed to face him now. You thought you had at least two weeks to heal your wounds and then just say you hit your head on an open cabinet door or something.
You rose to your feet and slowly turned around. As soon as Henry laid eyes on the bandage on your forehead his eyes got big and he came over to you with two big steps.
“Y/N, what the hell happened to you? Oh my god!”, he cupped your face, gently turning your head to get a better look at your forehead. “It’s nothing, really”, you tried to play it down. “This doesn’t look like nothing”, he said and his voice rose. You could clearly see how terrified he was, but you weren’t able to look him in the eyes. You already had a lump in your throat, you feared that if you looked at him directly, you would lose it completely.
He grabbed the hem of your shirt, wanting to lift it up where you flinched when Kal touched you. You put a hand on his and pushed it down. “Please, don’t”, you said. When you looked at his face and saw the mortified expression on his face, your eyes filled with tears. You felt the teardrops running down your cheeks, wetting your skin.
“Baby, what happened?”, he whispered, tears shimmering in his eyes. You bit down on your bottom lip as you felt a sob creeping up your throat. “Please, you need to tell me what happened, I’m going crazy”, he said. More tears fell from your eyes.
“Were you attacked?”, he asked and you slowly nodded your head, not trusting your voice. “Did someone try to…”, he asked but had to pause. He closed his eyes for a second, his jaw tense. “R-ra…”, he started, but you quickly shook your head. “No, no, I wasn’t raped”, you quickly said with a shaky voice. Henry exhaled loudly, slightly relieved that you weren’t abused in that way.
You cupped his face and pulled him down for a light kiss on the lips, trying to reassure him. Then you let go and limped past him towards the living room. “Y/N, you’re limping!”, he called out as he watched you move.
You went straight to your liquor cabinet and grabbed the whiskey bottle. You filled some of the liquid into a glass and swallowed it all in one sip. Okay, maybe not the best idea with the painkillers you took, but you need this right now.
When you turned around, Henry stood in the middle of the living room, watching you. You took a deep breath which hurt your ribs and winced. Henry wanted to come over to you but you stopped him with your hand held up.
You slowly grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it up on your right side, revealing a big, dark bruise that had formed over the course of the night. You heard Henry gasp and looked up. His eyes were filled with tears again, a hand covering his mouth.
“Let’s sit down”, you said, reached out, grabbed his hand and walked with him to the couch.
 You told him everything that had happened tonight, including the nice lady that had helped you and you told him that you already pressed charges against your attackers. Henry got angrier with every word as you spoke. Over the course of your story, he needed a drink himself. Kal had lain down by your feet, feeling the tension in the room.
“I’m so sorry that happened to you”, he said and ran his hand through his hair. He then took your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips and giving your knuckles a gentle kiss, letting his lips linger on your skin as he tried to collect himself.
“It’s my own fault, I shouldn’t have made those comments on Instagram, I…”, “No! Don’t excuse their behavior. Nothing what you said or could have said gave them the right to physically assault you”, interrupted you, his voice loud and strong.
“Baby, please calm down”, you said and squeezed his hand. “No, I can’t calm down”, he said and pulled his hand from yours. He reached for his phone on the coffee table. His thumbs flew across the screen. “Baby, what are you doing?”, you asked him, leaning over to glimpse at his phone, but your bruised ribs made you stop.
“I’m posting on Instagram what happened to you, making clear that no real fans of me would ever even talk ill about or to you, let alone assault you”, he said while his thumbs kept flying over this screen, hastily writing something.
You grabbed his phone from his hands, taking it away from him. “Henry, no!”, you said and put his phone behind you. “Give me my phone back, Y/N”, he said and held his hand out. “No”, you shook your head.
“Henry, baby, please, listen to me”, you said and grabbed his hand. You brought it up to your face and kissed the back of his hand before holding it between your hands close to your heart. “You’re outraged right now, you should NOT post on social media”, you said slowly, over-pronouncing every word.
“Please, Henry. I had a long night, I’m very tired and in a lot of pain. I just want to go to bed and I want you next to me”, you said with a low voice, almost whispering. Henry’s features got softer as he listened to you. He took a deep breath and then slowly nodded.
“You’re right, Y/N. You’re absolutely right, I’m sorry. Let’s go to bed”, he said and got up from the couch. He helped you up as well and walked you over to the stairs. He picked up your purse from the floor at the front door and brought it with him as he guided you upstairs.
He helped you change out of your clothes and into your pajamas. When he saw your bruises again, you could see his jaw tensing up. You caressed his cheek and gave him a gentle kiss to calm him down.
He brought you a glass of water so you could take your pain meds before he changed out of his clothes and into his pajama pants.
You had to sleep on your left side. Henry cuddled up to your backside, putting his arm over your hips, careful not to touch any part of you that was hurt.
You had actually been afraid to go to sleep tonight on your taxi ride home from the emergency room. You were so happy that Henry was home, you felt much safer with him right next to you. You felt a tear escaping your closed eyes and running down your cheek.
“I’m so happy you are home”, you mumbled into the dark bedroom, not sure if Henry was still awake, your hand on his arm that was draped over you. He entangled his fingers with yours, squeezing them reassuringly and pressed a kiss to your neck. “I’m right here”, he whispered. “I love you”, you said and sobbed lightly. “I love you too, Y/N”, he said and his thumb caressed the back of your hand as he pressed another kiss to your neck.
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whumpthisway · 4 years
Text
Huck and Stephen - Acceptance
This is a series - link to 01. Masterpost here <3 (which needs updating sorry. if you can’t find anything, send me an ask and i’ll link you)
A/N: This one is set directly after Unwanted, with Huck being discovered down in the basement by the police. Please check the tags and do ask me for specific tags, further details, or warnings if you need them or I miss something. If you have opinions, questions or thoughts, feel free to send me an ask :3
Huck and Stephen’s story can now be read on my AO3 here, and this new chapter is here.
Content warnings: abuse, panic attacks, needles, fear of death/believing they’re about to be killed, hospital setting, doctors being assholes
Huck/Pet POV
*
They must’ve fallen back into unconsciousness after they’d been found by the police, as the next thing they knew was that the floor was rumbling under them.
Whining quietly even before their eyes were open, Pet winced and blinked, briefly blinded by the daylight, and looked around in confusion. They were in a car, another car; lying with their cheek resting against warm leather. Waking up sharpened the pain of their injuries to an unbearable degree, the motion of the car quickly making them feel sick, and Pet started to cry in silent, tearless sobs that shook their shoulders painfully.
Where were they being taken? There was nothing good about car rides, and Pet was damaged beyond repair, now. No-one would want them. Not even Kiaran had thought them to be worth anything, since he hadn’t bothered to come back for them.
A gentle hand smoothed over their ears, startling them from their thoughts, and Pet twisted painfully around to find a woman sat beside them in the back of the car. At least this time they weren’t jammed into the footwell, and the woman’s touch was kind as she carefully untangled their matted fur with her fingers. Her other hand was settled on her stomach.
“Easy there, little one,” she soothed. “Not far now.”
Pet whined quietly. Not far to where? Maybe they were returning Pet to Master. That would… be okay. Far better than they deserved. Pet sighed, resting their head on their paws as they tried to ignore the pain emanating across their chest, and the agonising throb of their tail. They couldn’t imagine how furious Master was going to be at the state of them.
Time passed fuzzily and Pet lay curled up on the back seat, fighting the nausea in their belly. The woman gently gave them a little more water before she took it away again. The water sat uneasily inside them and Pet tried to remember what it felt like to be uninjured and comfortably full.
Pet stirred when the car pulled to a stop and flinched when the car door nearest to them clunked open, letting in a rush of cooler air and light. The woman climbed out of her side of the car and the thud of the door shutting made Pet cringe.
“It’s alright now, we’re going to get you some help,” the woman said, standing at the open door nearest to Pet, and Pet blinked blearily up at her.
The woman turned away, towards the man who’d been driving the car. “Can you carry them okay?” she said quietly to him. “Or I can get a wheelchair?”
“I got it, Mariann.”
Pet drew in a horrified breath when a man, bigger and even meaner-looking than Harrison, leaned suddenly over them. They cried out, just once, as they tried to scramble further inside the car and almost falling into the footwell in their panic.
“Hey, woah, easy.” The man patted the air as if that was any reassurance at all.
Pet’s frantic movement and fast, terrified breathing sent spikes of pain through their ribs and they went limp with a wheezing whimper, shaking. Just no more, that’s all they wanted, no more pain, no more humans, no more fear. They’d never been so overwhelmed, so overstimulated, whilst at the same time so apathetic and so exhausted.
“I’m not going to hurt you buddy.” The man cocked his head and tried to smile. “Just going to take you somewhere warmer, and safe.”
Pet, their ears pressed flat to their head, pressed their head into the crook of their arm and went still. What was the point of resisting anyway? Pet would just be grabbed eventually and being a brat about it, as Master used to snap at them, only ever made the humans angrier.
After a moment of Pet staying small and limp in the back of the car, the man cautiously ducked inside and gently gathered them up. He wasn’t rough or cruel about it but the feeling of hands on them, in their fur, jarring their agonising rib injuries, their tail, their pounding head, made Pet cry harder, though they tried not to. Crying made creatures weak, disgusting and unlikeable, and Pet was already all of those things, without weeping everywhere.
The feeling of being lifted up into the air only made their nausea worse too and they had to drag in snatches of air through clenched teeth as they tried not to retch. Pet didn’t want to think about what this man would do if they threw up all over him.
“Now don’t claw me, alright?” the man said. “I’m only trying to help.”
Pet kept their eyes tightly shut both against the blinding sun and in fear of the man carrying them. They carefully curled their claws tightly up against their furred chest, because they didn’t trust themself not to scrabble for the man carrying them if he dropped them, even as they shuddered at the thought of what this man would do if they tore his clothes with their claws, or worse, cut him.
They could hear the woman, Mariann, following alongside with little clicks of her shoes, keeping up with the man’s long stride.
The went into a building and a bright white space where the air smelled badly of sweat and pain and chemicals. It was full of humans, many of them with creatures at their feet and Pet couldn’t help but stare; they’d never seen so many creatures in one place, nor so close by. There were several smaller ones who looked like them, with dark fur and cupped, wolf-like ears, as well as ones so big they came up to their owner’s hip even when they were sat down. There was a creamy-white one, several greys, multiple shades of brown, one pure black and one an almost pinkish-red, with different types of fur and tails and ears. Pet hadn’t known creatures like them could look so varied.
But the more Pet looked, the more they realised that the other creatures all looked injured and sick, exhausted and defeated, and none of them were looking around. Many were on leashes or harnesses and some wore bulky collars that Pet recognised with a feeling of dread. Master Parry had threatened to get them one of those; one that’d shock them whenever they were bad. One pet had a muzzle strapped to their face, like a dog. What was this place? Were these people taking Pet to be put down? Because they were a lost cause that no-one wanted?
“No need for that,” the man said, his voice rumbling in his chest against Pet’s shoulder when Pet’s breathing hitched and new tears came, though the scruff at their neck was already damp with it. “You’re safe now.”
Pet assumed the man’s words meant that he was getting tired of their crying and tried to stop. They were too tired and dehydrated to cry for long anyway and the man’s warmth, however threatening he was, was making them drowsy.
After a short wait, Pet was carried further into the white building, the corridors panelled and identical and the whole place feeling cold and hard.
Inside a large room with two lines of beds packed close together, many of them occupied, Pet was laid down on an empty bed near a window. They whimpered softly in pain as the unforgiving mattress pressed against their ribs and their tail was jolted. But the man stepped away, to talk to Mariann, and Pet was relieved by that.
The humans talked somewhere off to the right and Pet, curling up, drifted in and out. It ought to have been too bright and frightening to sleep but they felt like sand was weighing down on them. Sliding into unconscious took less effort than trying to stay awake.
*
 Pain met Pet first when they awoke, and then a strange man in white leaned over them and Pet yelped. They tried to scramble away, but their shoulder thudded into the bed’s metal railing and sent a wave of pain across their chest and sides and back. They curled into themself, gasping.
“Calm down, now,” the strange man sounded displeased and stern and he reminded Pet of Master Parry. “Is it usually so twitchy?”
“They’re a rescue,” a familiar woman’s voice said firmly and Pet’s ear pricked up. “After what they’ve been through, it’s a wonder they’re as functional as they are.” The woman, Mariann, stepped closer in her little shoes and Pet didn’t find themself to be too afraid of her. She’d done nothing to hurt them, and had only gently petted them in the car. She looked down on them with a soft look and Pet blinked and quickly lowered their gaze. “They’ve been very strong and good,” she said, clearly more directed at Pet than the frosty man in white. Pet couldn’t help but feel warm at her gentle praise, though they could hardly agree with her.
She looked nothing like Alyse; Alyse had been almost as tall as Master Parry with blonde hair down to her ribs, where Mariann was petite and her stomach noticeably curved outwards; pregnant, Pet thought, recognising it from women they’d seen on TV. The two women didn’t look alike, and yet they’d both been kind to a filthy, broken creature when they didn’t have to be. Pet felt a rush of relief that she was here beside them and hadn’t left them alone.
“Be that as it may,” the man said sharply, “if I am to examine it, it’ll have to be drugged or restrained.”
Pet whined and curled their arms around their head, their paws pressed into the fur by their flattened ears. The humans kept talking around them, Mariann sounding angry, but it was muffled and Pet didn’t want to know what they were planning to do to them. They couldn’t stop it, so there was no point in knowing.
A cool hand took their wrist after some time and Pet flinched away, but didn’t try to get themself free. A sharp pinpoint of pain at the crook of their elbow followed and Pet’s eyes flew open as they dropped their paw from where it was covering their face. What had the humans done? Looking quickly down, Pet saw a different woman pulling her hand from their arm, an emptied needle in her hand, and Pet stared in horror.
Once, Harrison had gleefully told them that when his father bored of Pet, Pet would be killed with a jab of a needle. He’d mimed convulsing on the floor, screeching in pretend pain, while Pet had stared, shaken and horrified. Harrison had sat up and grinned, taking great pleasure in poking them with pencils at random intervals for weeks after, just to see them startle, and then pretended to inject them, making them feel sick every time. That’d been years ago but Pet had never forgotten.
Whining softly, Pet started shaking and even Mariann’s expression of concern and kind words weren’t enough the stop their panic when they began to feel drowsy. There wasn’t the pain Pet had expected but they weren’t ready to die, they didn’t want it- But, exhausted as they already were, there was no use fighting it and, as always, the humans got what they wanted.
 *
“They’re not ready to be discharged!” The words were hissed, sharp and angry but trying to be quiet. Still, Pet’s heart up-ticked and they tensed. “Look at them, they’ve been beaten to hell and back and they’ve been here less than six hours-”
“We don’t have space,” a male voice cut in, unemotional and hard. Pet couldn’t tell if it was the same man from before or not. “Its healing well. Pet healing is on average 6% faster than-”
“Bullshit.” It was Mariann, Pet realised after a moment. Her voice sounded different when she was so obviously furious and Pet had to force themself to keep still. Mariann and the man weren’t talking to them, probably thought Pet was still asleep. “They need this bed, and they-”
“No. It doesn’t.” The man sighed. “Listen. You’re clearly new so I’ll explain this once. I discharge this creature and I know it’ll go with you, to a shelter or to be fostered. It won’t end up on the street.” He paused, lowering his voice. “That one there? Brought in by the owner for two broken legs. He then broke the creature’s nose in front of me, when it didn’t lower its eyes fast enough. Do you understand? Creatures like that need beds here far more than your creature does. I have to prioritise.”
Mariann was silent for a long moment. “What time? When do they have to leave by?”
“This afternoon. Before three o’clock, the earlier the better.”
“What pain meds will they get? Follow up treatment?”
“None. Didn’t they explain this to you?” He sounded irritated and impatient. “This is emergency treatment only. The government pays, but only barely. They look after creatures that’ll die otherwise to stop bad PR, but that’s it. I’m sorry, but after this, if it needs more care, your charity will pay for private care or you’ll use a first aid kit.”
The man’s footsteps receded down the hall and Pet lay still, pretending to be asleep while their mind churned. Mariann was part of a charity? A charity that’d look after Pet?
“You heard that?”
Mariann’s voice startled them; they hadn’t even heard her approach, and they inhaled sharply in shock, before descending into a coughing fit. Their throat was achingly dry.
Pet was gently coaxed, half-lifted, up to seated and a cup pressed to their lips. The water was heavenly. When it was finished, Mariann pulled over a chair and Pet sat and stared blankly at the blanket covering their legs.
The pain was there but it felt distant, their mind a little floaty, and they struggled to accept that they weren’t dead. The injection hadn’t killed them at all. Another thing Harrison had lied about to scare them, Pet supposed tiredly.
“How long’ve you been awake, sweetie?” Mariann rested a hand on the swell of her stomach and considered them.
Pet ducked their head in shame. Mariann had helped them and Pet had already been bad, even though they’d barely been awake ten minutes. They’d eavesdropped, and deceived-
Mariann set a hand on top of their paw and Pet twitched. “I don’t mind, okay?” she said. “How’re you feeling? Can you speak for me?”
Pet quickly shook their head. Talking brought nothing but more trouble and more pain.
“Alright, that’s fine, you don’t have to.” She patted their paw before taking away her hand. Pet missed the warmth of it. “What’s going to happen is you resting up for a little bit longer. In a few hours, we’ll move you out of here and take you to a creature shelter, somewhere safe and not too far away. What’ll happen then depends on how you’re feeling, so we’ll take it as we go. Sound good?”
Not knowing what else to do, Pet nodded. It was clearly the right thing to do because Mariann gave them the kind of warm, soft smile that made Pet’s heart thud and tears well up involuntarily. Being looked at like that was something they wanted so much that it hurt, but which terrified them just as much.
“Okay,” Mariann said, seeming to come to a decision. “I’ll leave you to get some more sleep. I’ll be back in a little while.” She looked at them seriously. “You’ve got nothing to worry about now. Nothing bad will happen, I promise.”
That was an impossible thing to promise, Pet thought, but they nodded silently all the same. Mariann was being kind, and maybe she even meant it.
She helped them drink some more water before helping them lie back down, propping up their pillows like their comfort really mattered. Pet was glad she left after that, because they didn’t want her to see them cry, rendered weak and pathetic over a tiny bit of kindness.
The room they were in was full of beds holding other injured creatures, who groaned or cried out at times. Humans in white or blue hurried around, sometimes wheeling a creature away or leaned over them and did things that Pet didn’t understand.
Pet didn’t sleep, but lay still and stared up at the ceiling, which was peeling at the corners. They thought about dying. About Mariann promising them safety and protection. About the men who’d stolen them, Ry who’d left them in the basement, and Alyse who’d cared for them. About Harrison’s cruelty and Master’s loathing.
And here was Pet, at the mercy of all of them. Hope felt like a dangerous thing and they ignored the feeling with as much determination as they put into ignoring the pain in their tail. Maybe Mariann would make sure they were taken care of, or maybe they’d fall into the hands of a human far worse than Master. Only time would tell.
~
i’ve written a bit more and we are so so close to Huck and Stephen being reunited, im excited <3 my inbox is always open for thoughts, requests, feedback and ideas!
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Tagging (tagging people I love u all): @smolnarwhal @free-2bmee @ffaerie-dustt @mortifiedwhump @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @whumpity–whump–whump @quirkykayleetam @oracle-of-maybe @whumpersworld  @quoththeraven-what @halibellecter @usernames-suck-but-i-like-whump @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @pennsss @whumpqhs @whumpzone @deluxewhump @haro-whumps @redstainedsocks @gimmethatsweetwhump @redstainedsocks @newbornwhumperfly <3
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msiopao · 4 years
Text
The One Where Yeontan Doesn’t Understand Anything
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pairing: tae x nobi
summary: yeontan doesnt know korean so he just barks when he sees his mom and dad being happy
squeals and laughter echoed throughout the entire dorm as yeontan came over for a visit and he pounced on nobi, licking her at every chance. he yipped happily and let out cute little whines whenever she turned her gaze away from him, angry that mom wasn’t paying attention to him. he was dressed in a hoodie she got him a few days ago and his baby ears were safely tucked inside the hood that was over his head.
“aigoo, tannie, you’re so cute,” she cooed. “My little darling.”
tae leaned against the wall by the kitchen as he watched her cradle their puppy in her arms. she sat on the floor and leaned against the couch, petting the calming boy down since his energy was slowly running out with her rubs behind his ears. yeontan had his head laid on her chest, unmoving and eyes fluttering open and close. he saw his dad and his eyes fully opened, barking at his direction.
this got her attention as she turned her head away from the tv and met tae’s gaze. her eyes crinkled when she smiled. “hey, tae.”
he approached the two and sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her. “hello, bunny.”
yeontan whined softly and raised his head when he felt his mom shift but contently placed it back down when she just moved closer to tae’s chest.
“has he been calm?” he asked, rubbing the paw yeontan had hanging out.
she nodded. “my darling is so well-behaved, aren’t you?” her baby voice made tae’s uwu meter combust inside. she continued cooing at the puppy, constantly remarking how much she loved him and how cute he was.
“y-yah, kura. what about me?” he whined at the lack of affection he was supposed to be getting.
nobi giggled before looking up at at him, giving his jaw a peck. “you’re adorable too, tae.”
although this wasn’t the first time she’s given him affections like these, he still couldn’t get used to it. the tips of his ears burned red and he suddenly felt suffocated.
“a-ah,” he stuttered. “not as you, though.” he awkwardly replied before kissing her forehead.
the 3 sat there in silence, the low volume of the show not really catching their attention. with nobi petting tannie and tae gently massaging her waist, it was a comfortable atmosphere that they gladly occupied. but a growl from her stomach caused it to be broken.
an embarrassed look overtook her face and tae chuckled at her reaction. yeontan seemed startled by the sudden loud noise because he quickly sat up, eyes looking everywhere.
“it’s okay, tannie. ma is just hungry,” she reassured. even though the dog didn’t know korean, it doesn’t stop her from talking to him anyways.
“after that,,,, fiasco,,,, i think we’d have to order delivery,” tae suggested. a harsh sigh escaped from her as she was reminded by that terrible memory.
“yah, don’t bring that up again, please. it took me so long for jin-hyung to finally let me use the microwave without blowing it up.”
tae got up to make a phone call for the delivery so nobi and yeontan were left on the floor. he seemed to wake up fully and she was playing around with him, tickling him and giving him kisses everywhere. He was happy with the amount of attention he was getting and he jumped on her stomach when she laid on her back. excited yips and licks to her chin was enough to put a smile on her face and forget about everything in the world.
she wrapped her arms around the little boy and sat up, letting him nuzzle his furry face into her neck. as tae hung up, he went back to the living room and saw two of the most important people in his life. 
he sat down behind her and rested his chin on the shoulder opposite of where yeontan was at and he wrapped his arms around her waist, right hand running through yeontan’s fur. nobi hummed and leaned back so she leaned against his chest and yeontan gave her a lazy lick before nuzzling back.
“he’s growing up so fast, tae.”
he could hear the sadness in her tone and he agreed, feeling like it was just yesterday he went and got her their baby. nearly 3 years has passed and he still cannot believe how much he’s changed.
“he brought me out of that hole. when i thought everything went dark, he was that sliver of light between the clouds. my baby,” she whispered.
the main reason he got her yeontan was because she hit rock bottom and with the tour, she had no chance or time to let it all out. once they got back home, tae made sure he got everything ready and he walked into her bedroom, holding the puppy and seeing her shock and surprised reaction.
tears from the overwhelming feeling from tour.
but also tears from the happiness of having Yeontan.
“the food should be here in 15 minutes. what do you want to do for now?” he asked.
“well, it’s been a while since we’ve given him a bath ourselves.”
tae smiled at her soft grin. “i dont know if my mom gave him a bath already but we can do it.”
“i can go set everything up,” she offered before standing up and handing the squirming puppy back to tae.
he raised a paw and moved it up and down as a wave. “say bye bye to mami, tannie. say bye bye!”
she turned around by the hallway with her hands on her hips and tried to look serious but a smile broke through. “yah, don’t make it sound like i’m leaving forever.”
yeontan barked and he struggled to get out of tae’s hold to run to her but tae held on tighter and nuzzled his face into the soft fur. “she’ll be back, tannie.”
nobi went to the closet next to the bathroom and grabbed a small towel and the robe that was specifically for yeontan. next, she went to her room to get him a new set of clothes. it was a black and white hawaiian shirt that she picked up a few weeks ago when she went shopping with jungkook.
she rummaged through the cabinet under the sink for his shampoo before finding the familiar pink bottle and shouting for tae to bring the puppy in.
“coming!” he yelled back.
taehyung pushed the slightly open door so that him and yeontan could get through. nobi’s face lit up when she saw her baby and she took him from tae’s arms so that he could close the door. yeontan licked her hand as she tried to pet him behind the ears and he nudged his nose to hers.
“come here, tannie.”
together, they bathed the dog and it was filled with bubbles being thrown everywhere and water being sprayed to each other. yeontan kept wiggling to get the water off of him and caused his parents to get soaked with the excess water.
“yah! yeontan! stay still!” she shrieked with a laugh that echoed throughout the bathroom.
the boy barked in defiance before continuing to wiggle and walk around. nobi exasperatedly tried to follow him so she can wash the soap off of his fur but yeontan wanted to prolong bath time.
“tannie, let’s finish so you can be warm again, hm?” tae asked and caused yeontan to stop and sit still.
nobi’s eyes widened and an outraged and betrayed expression crossed her face. “yah, that’s not fair! you like papa more than me!”
tae laughed, “no. he likes mami because she buys him more clothes.”
damn right, she does. and when yeontan finally allowed her to wash him, he excitedly moved his hands and feet excitedly as she held him up in the air for tae to dry him off with the towel. the cute, white robe for dogs hugged him perfectly and nobi squealed at him. she got her phone from the sink and took a few pictures.
“wah, yeontan you’re so cute! my baby!” she cooed and yeontan happily barked at the sweet tone his mom was giving him. even though he doesn’t actually understand what she was saying, just her giving him attention was enough to make him happy.
in the middle of drying, the doorbell rang and tae got up to go get it since it was probably the food. once he was dry enough, she got yeontan to wear his clean shirt.
“okay, baby. through this arm and next, through this arm.” she guided his paws through the arm holes and when he was dressed, he bounded out of the bathroom and into the living room where tae was setting up the food.
he saw yeontan and picked him up to place him on his lap, waiting for you to change your clothes and come sit across him. there was fried chicken, jajjangmyeon, and cheese balls.
“wah, this looks really good,” she drooled as she snapped the chopsticks to mix the noodles.
tae took some meat of the chicken before feeding it to yeontan, who happily munched on it. nobi gave him a napkin to held wipe the crumbs off of yeontan’s fur and the puppy froze, allowing his dad to wipe him.
seeing the interaction, nobi placed her chopsticks down and bit her lip, hesitant to bring it up. but she has been thinking about it for a while and it’s something she wants to hear his opinion on.
“tae,” she called and he looked up to meet her eyes. “should we.... should we have another one?”
tae cocked his head slightly to the side, confusion evident on his face. “what are you talking about?”
she cleared her throat, “another baby. yeontan’s growing up really fast and he’s turning 3 soon. i just thought that with another one, he wouldn’t be so lonely and he would like it if he has someone with him.”
there was a fat silence and nobi nervously fiddled with her fingers, not exactly sure what she was so anxious about. she just wanted another puppy.
tae chuckled after a minute of thinking. “gosh, bunny. you make it sound like you want a child.”
surprised, she met his eyes before she too, laughed at the way her request sounded. “it did, didn’t it?”
“but, if you want, we could. we’re not that busy right now so it might be a good time to get another one. i can make a few phone calls and see if we can get one.”
she let out a happy shout and resisted the urge to reach over the table and hug the life out of tae. yeontan didn’t know what was going on but he saw the smiles his mom and dad had so he just barked loudly, showing his own happiness.
“you want a sibling, tannie? you want a baby brother? or sister?” nobi excitedly asked and yeontan let out squeaks randomly.
“don’t get too excited, nobi. with this whole thing going on, it might take a while to get a hold of some breeders,” tae warned but she just smiled at him.
“doesn’t matter. i’m just happy that we get to add another member to our family.”
a/n: im having puppy fever
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Note
Can I have a fanfic about sonic going to school?
Oh this one is cute! Due to him being confirmed to be 13 to 14 in the film, I’ll have him start in 6th grade for this prompt.
But we're gonna change it up a little...you'll see what I mean.
I apologize in advance to anyone i caused to cry while reading this, because I did while writing this.
Being small is way past cool.
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“Sonic!”
The hedgehog flinched at Tom’s loud voice cutting through the closed ladder door. “Sonic! Are you up yet?”
Groaning, he borrows deeper in his blanket and puts his pillow over his head.
‘God 6 is seriously too early to wake up on a Tuesday.’
Hearing the ladder door slide open, he kept still and held his breath as he heard heavy footsteps come into his room.
“Sonic?” He came closer to the bed, shaking Sonic’s shoulder.
“C’mon bud, you gotta get up now.”
“Nooo” his voice muffled underneath the pillow.
Tom rolled his eyes, whipping back the bed sheets off him.
Feeling the sudden cool air, his body tensed up and glared up at the human.
“Uh-uh Don’t look at me like that, you know you got to wake up now.”
Sonic closed his eyes, curled up his body and rolled over, his back facing Tom.
Tom let out a deep sigh. “Ok then.” he walks away and heads down the stairs.
'Maybe at this rate he'll let me stay home this time.' He sighed in relief as he started to go back to sleep.
That didn't last long before he heard Tom's footsteps come back into the room.
'Ugh spoke too soon.'
Hearing his steps get closer, he felt Tom’s hand wrap around his shoulder, pulling him up in a sitting position.
The hedgehog groaned and let his head fall forward.
‘I’m still not getting up, why is he trying so-AAAAH!’
Sonic let out a scream as he felt a rush of cold mask around his face.
Tom, with a washcloth soaked with cold water, rubbed the cloth around Sonic’s eyes and face. “You should have got up when I told you.”
Swatting his hands away, he rubbed his eyes, now miraculously feeling more awake.
“Wha- What was that?”
“An old trick my mom used on me when I wouldn’t get up, just take a washcloth, soak it in cold water and wipe your face with it.” He grinned as he twirled the cloth around. “Could never really escape from it.”
“Hpmh, you must’ve been a stubborn kid.”
“It worked on you too so you’re not off the hook either.” he flicked the cloth on top of his head. "Now please get yourself ready, I'm not telling you again."
"Fine." He huffed, moving the damp cloth off head and stretched as Tom walked back downstairs.
'He sounds serious this time, maybe he has to work a extra shift again.'
"Well I guess I have to get serious too." Using his speed, he made his bed and grabbed his toothbrush, zipping to the bathroom to get washed up.
Tom heard him zipping upstairs as he sat down at the table, letting out a deep sigh,
Maddie walked over to him, holding two cups of coffee. “Everything ok up there?”
“Teenagers.” He said bluntly as he took his cup from Maddie. “I always thought we got lucky from skipping the terrible two’s or that awkward preteen stage, but this-.”
He stopped to take a long sip from his mug. “I wonder how our parents felt when we went through this.”
“Tom, it’s probably because it’s the end of the first week of school for him and he doesn’t want to go due to how often he’s been home.”
"So he's becoming stagnant basically?"
"In a matter of speaking, yes."
"Oh god, he's becoming a basement baby."
"Pfft, that only counts once they're 18 and over Tom."
"Don't be so sure of that, he already lives in our attic. So he's kinda like a...attic toddler."
Maddie nearly dropped her plate from stifling her snorts of laughter, passing Tom his plate. "Yeah ok, don't him hear you call him that."
"Please with all the names he calls us, we should at least get to call him something." He huffed as he cut into his eggs.
"I thought he did have one? The Blue Devil?"
"Nope, it's Attic Toddler now." He waved his hand, mouth partially full.
Maddie let out a hum as she ate her eggs. "Hmm I don't think he likes that too much."
"Why'd you say-?"
"ATTIC TODDLER?!?"
Tom let out a yell and jumped nearly a foot into the air as he heard Sonic's voice shrill right behind him. Ozzie barked in response to his yell, only for Maddie to call him over and calm him down.
Grabbing his chest, Tom panted as he looked at the hedgehog, who was wearing a small red shirt with a picture Saturn on it, looking very offended.
"Dude! You know better than to sneak up behind people and scream like that!"
Ignoring Tom's remark, he carried on sounding more agitated. "'Attic toddler'? C'mon Tom I'm not that short!"
Catching his breath, he turned around in his chair to fully face him, slightly smiling. "I mean can you blame me, you're about the size of a toddler."
Sonic tightens his fists, cheeks blushes slightly. "NO I'M NOT!!"
His eyes flash blue for a split second and small sparks erupts from his quills as he panted from his outburst.
Ozzie whimpered and cowered underneath the table. Tom eyes widen while Maddie let out a gasp at the hedgehog's sudden outburst.
Tom was the first to break the dead silence. "Sonic?"
Still panting, he blinked before looking shocked and shaking his head, sparks disappearing and his eyes going back to emerald green.
"I....uh...I." he fiddled with his hands, looking down at the floor and taking a few steps back from the couple.
Tom went to stand up, Sonic backed away even more. “Hey-.”
“I’m sorry.” He murmured quickly before speeding up to his room, shutting the door behind him.
“Soni-.” He voice got cut off at the sound of the door closing.
Gripping his chair, he put his weight against the back, looking where Sonic disappeared.
“Tom?” He turned around to see his wife, both hands on the table as she looked at him, her face hardened. “What in the world was that?”
Choking on his words, he sat back down and leaned on the table, letting out a hard breath.
“I have no idea Mads.” Ozzie came out slowly from the table and approached Tom, putting his head on his knee.
He scratched his head in response. “I’ve never seen him like....that before, last time I saw him like this was months ago when he was fighting Robotnik.”
Maddie folded her hands and put them against her mouth. “I know and he’s never yelled in that way either." After a short pause she glances up.
"Do you think something happened at the school?"
"Hmm possibly, we haven't got any calls from them yet."
She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. "Oh Tom, do you think he may be getting picked on?"
He opened his mouth to speak only to close it, thinking about what she said. 'I mean it's not far fetched that he actually could be, it's pretty common around this age group.'
"Middle school kids can be pretty brutal, man it's only the first week for him too."
"He got pretty upset at the comment you made, maybe it something related to that."
"Yeah he did...." drumming his fingers against the table before snapping his fingers. "I got something."
"Yeah? What is it?"
"I'm gonna just take a page out of my dad's book for once, hopefully it works for him like it did for me".
=======
'Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!' He screamed mentally as paced around his room, trying to calm down.
"Why did I yell at them like that?!? They didn't know what was going on anyway, now they're definitely going to know that something's up! Way to go Sonic!" He threw his arms up in the air as he sat against his beanbag chair.
Taking a few breaths, he hugged his arms and stared at his feet. 'I...don't know what to do.'
Feeling his eyes sting, he sniffed and blinked away any incoming tears.
Looking up, the clock read 7:05. 'An hour and a half left huh? Maybe I'll take a walk instead of a run today.'
Getting up slowly, he put on his windbreaker and grabbed his backpack. He traced over the stitching of the owl that was sewn on the back before hugging the bag to his chest.
Pushing the ladder down, he slowly made his way to the main steps and pushed the ladder up, his ears picked up the sound of the shower turning on and faint singing coming from it.
'Maddie's still here, I wonder if she's mad at me? And Tom...'
He shook his head as he made his way to the front door, looking over to where Ozzie was laying, the dog's head was between his paws as he saw Sonic pass by.
"See you later Oz" he waved sheepishly at the dog.
Not moving an inch, Ozzie gave a small bark in reply.
He winced at the lack of energy the retriever gave. 'Oh man I guess he's mad at me too.'
He stepped onto the front porch, closing the door behind him. Adjusting his book bag zipping up his coat, he made his way down the stairs, his mind still going.
“Hey!”
The teen jumped and ducked slightly at the sound of a deep voice echoing in the yard. “Raise your hands where I can see them!”
Recognizing the voice, he let out a sigh as he walked towards the truck, the window rolled all the way down revealing that Tom was sitting inside.
Tom leaned his head out, his elbow out the window. “Hey bud.” He said softly.
“Hi.” He murmured, looking down at the ground.
A short pause. “Why so blue?”
Sonic huffed and glared up at the human, who held back a laugh before clearing his throat.
“No seriously though, how you feeling?”
“I’m.....fine.” Deep down he knew that he still wasn’t fine, but he didn’t want Tom to see that.
“Hmm-mmm.” He checked his watch before opening the door on the passenger side. “Well come on.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t have to be at the station until 9 so I’m taking you to school today.”
“O-oh, no that’s ok I was gonna just walk to school.”
Tom looks at him, straight faced.
“Sonic, I’m taking you to school.”
His voice was calm, but carried an eerie tone to it. As if saying, “you definitely have no other choice in the matter.”
Squirming under his gaze, he holds up his hands in surrender. “Ok whatever you say.”
He sighs as he makes his way into the passenger seat, closing the car door, putting his bag on the floor and folding his arms as he sat.
Putting the car in reverse, Tom backed the car out of the driveway.
“Put on your seatbelt.” He without looking back.
Sonic takes the seatbelt and straps it behind him rather than around him and clicks it in.
"Fasten it around your body please". He says, still not looking back.
Shocked, he complies while staring at him. ‘How does he do that? I swear grown ups have eyes in the back of their heads.’
=======
Tom continued to drive at a steady pace, one hand on the steering wheel, the other out the window.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Sonic looking out the window at the passing trees, face in his palm and face sullen.
Clearing his throat, his decides to break the silence. “So do you want to talk about it?”
“About what?”
“That big elephant you left in the room.”
“Elephant? There was no elephant anywhere.”
“No-what I mean is that something is obviously bothering you and it’s starting to worry me and Maddie.”
He clutched the strap of the seatbelt. “Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Really? Cause the way you acted back there says otherwise.”
“I just-, I just didn’t like the way you called me a toddler that’s all.” He squeezes the belt tighter.
“If you didn’t like that I called you a toddler, you would have just told me that instead of yelling at me like that.”
"I didn't mean to yell, it just came out that way."
"Then why are you upset that I called you that?"
Sonic just shrugged his shoulders while giving a noise that sounded like "I don't know".
"Yes you do, you just don't upset like that for no reason."
Sonic stayed silent, hugging himself and closed his eyes, kneeling his head against the door.
Tom sighed in defeat, putting his eyes back on the road. 'It must be tough on him if he just won't say it to me.'
Seeing the exit ramp towards the school come into view, he increased his speed and drove right past it.
Sonic snapped out of it and watched as they went past the ramp.
"I figure we take the long way around, since we have the time." Tom answered, sensing the teen's confusion.
Sonic closes his mouth and nods, leaning his back against the seat, his shoulders noticeably loosening up and his face relaxed.
Tom grinned as he drove down the road, passing underneath the trees and by individual houses.
He turned the car onto a wide dirt road and drove up a hill leading to a area surrounded by a small glade of trees.
'Are we at a camping ground?' Looking around, he sees a small number of picnic tables and wooden signs.
"Why are we here?" He asks Tom, who is looking around the area, seemingly looking for something.
"Change of scenery, Ah there it is!" Tom exclaimed as he pulls into a space and puts the car in park.
Looking over the dashboard, he sees a metal guard rail bordering where the flat ground ends and an open view of the sky and trees down below, clear of any trees from blocking it.
Tom gets out and stretches his arms, breathing out a loud sigh before walking away from the car.
Sonic gets out slowly and closes the door. He walks over to the guard rail, backing up slightly at the steep drop beyond it.
It was a rather quiet place, only hearing woodpeckers and birds chirping in the distance and the sounds of the pine needles crunching under his shoes.
He turned around as he heard Tom grunting and saw him climbing up on the hood of the car and putting his back against the windshield, his feet dangling in front of the muffler.
Seeing Sonic stare at him, he patted the spot on the hood next to him.
He sped over on top of the hood and sat down next to the human, crossing his legs.
The two sat in silence for a bit before Tom spoke. "You're probably still wondering why I took you here right before school."
"Yeah I still am actually."
Tom chuckled. "Well this place is pretty special to me. Me and Maddie would take walks up here when we got engaged, take Ozzie on walks, even have some barbecue parties with some of the neighbors." He paused before mouth became tight.
"This is also the same place my dad took me when I was about your age.
Sonic let out a small gasp and raising his head up. "Really?"
"Yeah, it was actually for the same reason you're going through right now. Middle school was getting rough for me and my parents knew right away that something was wrong." He smiled at the distant memory before continuing.
"So one random day he came up to my room and told me that he was driving me to school, I didn't think much of it so I went along with it."
"Then he drives up into these woods and pulls up in the same spot that we're in right now."
Sonic eyes widened as he leaned in with interest.
"We both sat on the hood of his old pickup and just stared at the sun rising, it made me feel...calm and relaxed, So much so I was able to him what was going on."
"What'd you tell him?"
"About how the kids were teasing me, calling me names behind the teachers back and no one wanted to be around me because I was the sheriff's son."
"And I'll never forget what he said to me, he said "Thomas, those kids are just jealous because they wish their fathers were as cool and handsome just like I am."" Tom said as he tried to imitate his father's voice, making Sonic giggle at the rough impression.
Letting out a laugh as well, he smiled before talking in his regular voice. "But what he also told me was "They think because of what family you were born into, you'll turn out just like them, good or bad. It's up to you to show them that you are unique in both mind and soul and eventually prove them wrong, you got what it takes, son.""
Tom beams as he finishes the story, looking down Sonic, who eyes were starting to water.
"Oh, hey buddy you ok?" He spoke softly as he puts a hand on Sonic's shoulder, who nods his head as he wipes away incoming tears.
"*sniff* Yeah I'm fi-." He stops realizing what he's about to say. 'No you're not.'
"No I'm not fine actually."
Hand still on his shoulder, he pulls him in closer. "Go ahead, I'm listening."
He took a deep breath before speaking. "Some of the kids at school have been....making fun of my height."
Tom stiffens up but listens as Sonic continues. "On the first day, it was kinda like a joke, the fact that I'm in 6th grade and I look like I should be in 1st grade. I didn't think much of it."
His fists resting on his knees clench up. "Then this one group of kids in my PE class, they really went at it and wouldn't stop. They didn't do things like push me in a locker or beat me up or anything because of my speed, but the things they said...." He stops as he feels his throat go tight.
"What things did they say to you?" He kept his voice steady.
His voice cracks. "They said that my speed was the reason my parents didn't want me anymore, my height was not normal for my age and then yesterday they told me that it was only reason I was taken in by the sheriff was because I'm "an abomination that no one else wanted and that he could use me for hunting practice". He finishes as his voice cuts off and a few tears run down his face.
Tom uses his thumb to wipe the tears from his face as he pulls him closer. Sonic lets out a small sob as he wraps his arms around Tom's waist and cries softly into his chest, with Tom holding a hand behind his head and back.
The two sit on the hood of the truck as Sonic quiet sobs fill the air with Tom rubbing his back and whispering words of comfort.
After a few minutes, Sonic pulls away from the embrace hiccuping slightly, wiping his eyes and sniffing loudly.
Tom pulls out a tissue while continuing to rub his back. "Here, blow your nose."
Sonic wipes his eyes before blowing his nose hard. He leans back against Tom's side, trying to control his breathing.
"Sonic, why didn't you say anything to us if those kids were picking so much?
He shook his head. "I didn't want to guys to worry about it, I thought if I just tough it out it would be fine."
"Is that why you yelled like that?" Seeing him nod his head slowly, he let out a deep sigh.
"Ok we got to agree on some things, first thing is next time something like this happens, please let us know right away, it's not good to hold in emotions like that."
He nods in agreement. 'Oh trust me I know.'
"Two, please don't raise your voice like that at us again. You're lucky I was taking you, Maddie wasn't too happy that you did that."
"O-ok, I think Ozzie was mad at me too."
"You probably just scared him a little."
"And three, don't let people like that get to you, they never know the full story of your life unless they are apart of it."
"Oh yeah, they don't." He wipes eyes again with his palm.
"Hey, they might even be jealous at the fact that your living with a sheriff that's so devilishly handsome." He clutches his chin and raises his eyebrows.
Sonic let out a wet laugh, pushing Tom's shoulder. "Pfft I know that's definitely not it."
"Wha- how dare you, I'm eligible to be on the Bachelor!" He let out a fake gasp as he poked Sonic in the sides.
The hedgehog shrieked as he shielded away, swatting away his hand.
Tom shook his head as he checked his watch.
"Whoa, it's 8:15 already? We better get going." He grunted as got off the hood.
"Oh right, school." Sonic said solemnly as he looked out at the view, the sun near the top of the trees. 'I kinda don't want to leave now.'
"Hey Tom? Is it ok if we come back here again?"
"Yeah that's a good idea, we can come back during the weekend."
"Sweet". He zipped into car and buckled his seatbelt.
"Oh yeah, you forgot something at home." Tom reached into his duffle bag and pulled out a small lunch box.
"Oh my god thank you! I didn't realize I left it." He hugged the bag to his chest before putting it on the floor.
"Been there before and trust me it's not fun. Oh and make sure you eat this before we get there." He tossed Sonic a banana from his bag.
The hedgehog looked down at the fruit in confusion. "Uhh why are you giving a banana? I already have my lunch."
"You didn't eat breakfast." He replies bluntly.
Right at that moment, his stomach lets out an audible growl. He blushes as he opens it and starts taking small bites.
'Can read him like a book.'
=======
The truck pulled up in front of the school, the students gathering from all over, from walking to being dropped off.
Tom put the car in park as he looked up at building then to Sonic, who was still looking out the window, face filled with uncertainty.
"Hey." He tapped his shoulder to get his attention. "Remember what I said, don't let those kids get to you."
"Yeah, I know."
"Good, cause I'm saying this not only as your friend, but also as your guardian, your size can be your greatest strength, other than that blue sparky thing you do sometimes."
His eyes widened at the word "guardian" before beaming widely, his tail wagging. "Really?"
"Yeah, do you know how many people's knees you can kick at your height?"
"Oh no I meant what you-......uh nevermind." He grabbed his bag and lunch box and went to open the door, before turning around and wrapping his arms around Tom's neck.
Startled, Tom froze at the sudden action before hugging him back.
"Thank you." He leaned back to look at Tom, smiling widely.
"Anytime, bud" he said warmly as he rubbed the teen's ears.
He drew back from the hug, jumped down from the seat and shut the car door.
"I'll see you later, Tom!" He yelled behind his back as he rushed towards the building, stopping to talk to 2 boys, giving them high fives before walking in with them.
"See you later...son."
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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years
Text
Fic: Forged Through Fire (6/13)
Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.
===
Rated: T
[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [AO3]
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Content warning for this chapter: Moderate blood and gore.
Edit: OK. So, I am an idiot and I got centuries and millennia confused. I am so sorry. Xerxes has been gone for around 500 years, as in canon. Not 50 years, as my stupid brain decided to write. 
I’ve edited it now. I’m so sorry for any confusion.
===
Forged Through Fire
Six
“Do you think I made a mistake? I don’t think I did. I think that there’s been something there for a while and I knew that Roy wasn’t going to do anything about it. Maybe I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t had two glasses of wine. Scratch that. I definitely wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t had two glasses of wine. I would have thought about doing it, but I wouldn’t have actually done it. And I don’t think it was a mistake because he definitely liked it. But then I had to go and run away and make things all awkward afterwards when I realised just what I’d done. But at least it’ll be a talking point now. I mean, we’re going to have to talk about it at some point. What do you think?”
Riza looked down at Hayate, who appeared to be listening intently, his eyes fixed on her face as he panted calmly beside her.
“Romance must be so much easier in the dog world,” she said. “Or do you have this problem too?”
Hayate did not respond, and Riza sighed, bending down from her chair to scratch behind his ears.
“Well, what’s done is done. Maybe he won’t even come in tonight. He doesn’t come by every night. Although he did say he’d see me tomorrow last night.”
Riza had noticed that Roy seemed to be coming by the shop a lot more often in recent weeks; even if he didn’t go down into the speakeasy, he would come and say hello to her and pet Hayate. It was just another point in favour of there being something there that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe it had been there before, and she just hadn’t fully come to terms with it being there. She’d always had some feelings towards Roy, but at the time she’d put them down to a schoolgirl crush. Reconnecting with him over the past couple of years had proved to her that it was definitely not just a crush. 
Although she had not yet admitted it to anyone other than Hayate, who would never rat her out, Riza had accepted that her feelings towards Roy went as deep as love. 
She heard footsteps coming up the stairs from the bar and turned to see who was coming out. She was surprised to find Madam Christmas there. Riza rarely ever saw her coming in and out of the place via the shop; she knew that there were other ways in and out of the bar, but she’d never pried into them. 
“Evening, Riza.”
“Good evening, Madam Christmas.”
“Keeping a lookout for Roy?”
Riza nodded, remembered that Madam Christmas had been there behind the bar when she had kissed him last night and shook her head, and then nodded again sheepishly under the weight of the other woman’s look.
“Is this where you say ‘if you break his heart I’ll kill you’?”
Madam Christmas scoffed. 
“It’s none of my business whether or not Roy gets his heart broken,” she said. “He’s a grown man, he should be able to handle that himself. I’m not going to be giving him any speeches on your behalf either. I leave it to you two to sort yourselves out. I did want to talk to you about Roy, though.”
“Should I be worried?”
“I don’t think so. I just want to get a clear picture in my head. I wouldn’t have survived in the business I’m in without being shrewd and without being able to read people. You’re more closed off than most, which I’ve always assumed was due to your upbringing. I’m not going to pry into that. At any rate, when you’re with Roy, you’re the happiest and the most open I’ve ever seen you.”
Riza nodded. “Yeah. I guess I am. I’ve always felt safe around Roy. Ever since I first trusted him with my back, I’ve always felt safe with him. In a way, I think that’s part of the reason why I came here. I wanted to keep him safe in the way that he’s always kept me safe.” She sighed. “Back when he was studying under my father, my father told him to keep me safe. I’ve always known that he wasn’t talking out of any kind of affection for me in that sense – he wanted Roy to keep me safe because keeping me safe would keep the array safe. Roy’s always known that too – well, he’s known it ever since he first saw the array and realised what my father really meant. But even so, Roy’s always kept me safe, in a way. He’s always been there whenever I needed him, and I want to do the same for him.”
She paused as Hayate bounced up onto her lap, looking for scratches from Madam Christmas. 
“At first maybe it was out of a need to repay him for all his kindness, but I don’t think it is anymore. It’s just because I want to.”
Madam Christmas smiled, absent-mindedly patting Hayate’s head. 
“That’s what I thought. Maybe if we can make Roy see that he’ll stop beating himself up.”
Riza raised an eyebrow. “I’m not even going to ask.”
“Roy’s a very forgiving person when it comes to everyone but himself. When it comes to you, there are a lot of things he blames himself for.”
“I know. I don’t know how many times I’ve had to tell him that it doesn’t matter, and I don’t see it like that.”
Madam Christmas snorted. “Boy’s as stubborn as a mule. He gets that from his father, and I don’t think the military’s helped. Still. You’ve got my blessing if you even wanted it in the first place. I’m going to have to stop collecting orphans and waifs and strays at some point. People will think I’m going soft.” She patted Hayate again. “Well, I might keep this particular waif and stray.”
Hayate just beamed at her.
“Anyway. Speak of the devil.” Madam Christmas nodded towards the shop door as she turned to go back downstairs. Roy was just outside, and he seemed to be going through something of a mental crisis on seeing his aunt talking to Riza. It took a good couple of minutes before he actually opened the door and came inside. 
“Should I be worried?” 
Riza shook her head. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Did she threaten to pickle you in a beer barrel if you broke my heart?”
“No, although that was my first thought when she came up too.”
“Right.” Roy came over to the counter. “So… How are you?”
He was addressing himself to Hayate rather than her, but Riza didn’t mind. Hayate certainly didn’t mind the excess of petting that he was getting this evening, lolling in her arms with his eyes closed as he received a belly rub from his favourite uncle. 
“I’m ok, thank you. It’s been a slow day. How about you? Anything weird and wonderful happening in the laboratories today?”
“No, although Falman’s still knee deep in the paperwork from yesterday. Coming to think of it, though, I haven’t seen Hughes at all today.”
“Is that a cause for concern?” 
“Not normally, and he usually only comes in once a week so I wouldn’t expect him in here tonight. It’s just after everything that he was saying yesterday… I think we’re all a bit on edge at the moment. There’s something definitely going on.” Roy shook himself, as if he was trying to shake all the disturbing thoughts out of his head. “Anyway… I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
Riza nodded. “Yes.”
“You kissed me.”
“Yes. I did. And you kissed me back.”
“Yes. I did.”
There was silence for a while. 
“So… What happens now?” Roy asked. “Do we…”
The shrill bark of the telephone on the counter cut him off, and Riza leaned across to answer it without dislodging Hayate, her brow furrowing. It was rare for the bookshop to get phone calls, probably because it didn’t do all that much service as an actual bookshop, and half the time the calls would cut directly through to the speakeasy anyway.
“Cannon Street Second-Hand Books, how can I help?”
“Riza? Thank God it’s you, is Roy around?”
“Hughes, is that you?”
Roy looked up sharply and came around the counter, grabbing the receiver from her but letting her lean in close to listen in with him.
“Hughes, what’s going on? Where are you?”
“I’m in the normal place; I think I might have been followed, look, I’ve found out some things that you need to know about what’s going on. I found out about Project Xerxes. I was right. I…”
Hughes trailed off, and Riza’s heart leapt to her mouth as the sounds became muffled. 
“Hughes? Hughes!” 
Her heart stopped altogether when she heard the gunshot down the line. 
“Hughes!”
There was no response.
“Hughes! Hughes, answer me!” Roy thrust the phone back at Riza, who dropped it onto the counter and turned Hayate off her lap to jump up and grab her pistols from the top drawer. Roy didn’t bat an eyelid, running towards the back room. “Who’s in downstairs?”
“Just Armstrong and Havoc.” 
He was already through the door and halfway to the cellar as Riza was loading up her ammunition, Hayate whimpering under the counter at the sudden confusion. She reached down and patted him gently. 
“I’m sorry, boy. Mommy has to go and rescue your other favourite uncle. He’s got himself caught up in something way over his head.” 
Hayate whined and sat down, front paws over his eyes. Riza wished she could do the same. She was just grabbing her coat as a thunder of running footsteps came up from the bar behind her and Roy raced out, followed by Armstrong, Havoc and Hohenheim bringing up the rear. 
At least they all seemed to know where they were going. 
Riza shoved her pistols into her coat pockets and high-tailed it after them. 
X
“Hughes, if you die on me now I’m going to kill you.” It was the same mantra that Roy had been panting out for the past ten minutes as he sprinted through the dark streets of Central, the others hot on his heels. 
No one had asked where they were going. No one had asked any questions at all. When he’d rushed down into the bar and hammered on the clinic door yelling that Hughes had been shot and they needed to do something Right The Hell Now, Armstrong and Havoc had got up and followed him without a word, and Hohenheim had left Trisha and run along with them. He was vaguely aware of Riza bringing up the rear, and whilst there was a large part of him that wished she hadn’t come out of fear of losing her as well as Hughes, the even greater part was grateful for the protection her guns would bring them should they need it. 
They were nearly at the park. Roy didn’t know how long it had been since the phone had rung; he hoped that they would get there in time. 
The phone box came into sight. Hughes’s legs were sticking out of it, and despite the searing stitch in his side, Roy put on an extra burst of speed, throwing himself down onto the ground beside his friend and feeling for a pulse. 
“Please be alive, please be alive, please be alive.” 
“Roy?” Hughes coughed wetly. “That you?”
“Yes.” He could have cried with relief. “Yes, it’s me.”
“OK, let’s see the damage.” Hohenheim had caught them up, breathless as he got down on the ground and started pulling Hughes’s blood-soaked jacket and shirt open. It had been a clean shot in his chest at point blank range; Roy’s stomach rolled at the sight of the bullet hole. It was a miracle he was still hanging on. 
“Roy… I need to…”
“No talking.” Roy had never heard Hohenheim anything other than completely calm and gentle with his patients. Even in the very worst cases that had been dragged down into the clinic, he’d never seen Hohenheim as on edge as he was now. 
“But…”
“You can talk when your lung isn’t collapsed and you’re not bleeding to death.” Hohenheim felt around under Hughes’ back and swore under his breath. “It ripped straight though. Roy, I need you to try and stop the bleeding, keep pressure on the wound.”
Roy pulled off his own jacket and balled it up, pressing down hard on Hughes’ chest whilst Hohenheim kept feeling around. 
Hughes’ breath was starting to gasp and rattle. 
“No, no, Maes, no, you’ve got to hold on, you’ve got to live happily ever after with Gracia, come on, stay with me, I’ll let you talk about her every minute of the goddamn day as long as you don’t die on me!” Roy looked over at Hohenheim. “You can fix it, right? Surely you can fix it!”
Hohenheim nodded. His expression was hard and grim, and he wiped his hair back from his face, dripping blood onto his glasses into the bargain. 
“I can fix it. You might want to look away, though.”
“What?”
“Have you got a knife?”
“What?”
“Knife, Roy, I need a knife!”
“Hughes always carries one…” He reached for Hughes’ sleeve, trying not to let up on the pressure on his chest. 
“Here.” Suddenly Riza was there, holding out a penknife. 
“Thanks. You’ll both want to look away.”
Neither of them moved.
“I’m about to do something very disturbing and extremely illegal so if you want plausible deniability, look away now.”
Roy could only stare as Hohenheim slashed open his own palms, sparks of red alchemic lightning flashing over his hands as he plunged them down into Hughes’ chest.
The wait for anything to happen seemed to take forever, and even though Roy could hear the traffic on the street that ran alongside the park, this little area was so still and quiet it was almost eerie, just the electric crackle of alchemy sparking around Hughes’ chest and Hohenheim muttering something in a language Roy couldn’t understand. It sounded like he was praying. 
At last, Hughes took a huge gasp of air, beginning to cough as Hohenheim pulled his hands out. The sparks died away, and if it wasn’t for the bright scarlet blood coating Hohenheim’s arms halfway to the elbow, there would have been no indication that Hughes had been injured at all. 
Hohenheim was breathing like he’d run a marathon.
“We need to get him back to the shop,” he said. “Somewhere safe. He’ll need a few days to recover from the trauma but he’s in no danger.”
Roy just nodded dumbly, still rendered completely speechless by what he had just seen. 
Havoc and Armstrong ran over to them at that point having scouted out the area and found no sign of Hughes’ assailant, and Armstrong picked up Hughes as carefully as a baby, carrying him away.
“Are you three all right?” Havoc asked, and Roy could see the concerned confusion in his face. He and Riza probably both looked like they were about to keel over with shock. 
Riza nodded. “We’ll be fine.” She handed him one of her pistols and he tucked it into his waistband below his jacket. “Go with Armstrong, just in case.” She turned back to Roy and Hohenheim. “I’ll go find something to clean you two up with.”
As soon as she was out of earshot, Roy looked over at Hohenheim again. 
“What the hell was that?”
“I told you to look away.”
“That wasn’t alchemy.”
“It wasn’t the kind you’re used to, but it was alchemy.”
 “You didn’t need a circle. You didn’t even leave a scar.”
“I told you to look away, Roy.”
The words were icy and came through gritted teeth, and Roy recognised the expression in Hohenheim’s eyes for what it was. 
Fear. 
Mentally, Roy used the excuse of being in shock at what had happened to Hughes and what he’d just witnessed for temporarily forgetting that not only was Hohenheim an unlicensed alchemist, he was also an undocumented immigrant from who knew where with no visa and no ID and he’d just performed tremendously powerful alchemy in the middle of a public park. There were no witnesses around other than himself and Riza, but at the same time, he could see exactly why he was scared. The combination was a one-way ticket to the firing squad without trial.
“Thank you for saving him.”
Hohenheim nodded. “It’s fine. I could do it, so I did. Just don’t any of you make a habit of this.”
Despite himself, Roy gave a snort of laughter. “Don’t worry, we won’t.”
“Hey. You two ok?” Riza was back, carrying a dripping stack of paper towels from the public restroom halfway down the block. “It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing to stop you causing alarm on the way back.”
Hohenheim grabbed some without a word, beginning to scrub the drying blood off his hands. Roy noticed that there was no sign of the wounds he’d made on himself, either, and he grabbed Riza’s knife from where it had fallen, handing it back to her. 
“We’re ok,” he said. “We should probably get back. Armstrong will start panicking soon and Aunt Chris will want to know what’s going on. She’s probably not going to take kindly to having someone recuperating in her back room.”
“We need to let Gracia know what’s gone on as well, she’ll be expecting him at home.” Riza sighed. “You know, I think you were properly paranoid when you said that everyone was on edge about what was going on. What do you think he found out?”
“I have no idea. Presumably, he found out whatever Project Xerxes is.”
There was a crunching sound as Hohenheim’s glasses broke in his hands where he was cleaning the blood off them. 
“Hohenheim?”
“I’m ok.”
“Your glasses say otherwise.”
He looked down at them and swore before visibly deflating and shoving them in his pocket. “I need to go.”
He got up and left them without another word, walking quickly back in the direction of the shop. 
“Something’s going on there,” Riza said. 
“You think? I don’t think I can handle any more revelations tonight. Come on, let’s get back before we’re next.”
Riza nodded, and she held out a hand to help Roy off the ground. 
“Do you think he’s Xerxian?” she asked after a moment. 
“The country died out nearly half a millennium ago, but after everything I’ve seen today, I wouldn’t put anything past anyone.” Roy paused, mulling it over in his mind. “There’s something in that. It makes sense that there would be diaspora, Xerxians living outside the country. The legends always say that the people were touched by the gold of the sun, and if the genes always breed true, then the colouring could have passed down the generations.”
They made the rest of the journey back to the shop in silence; all the lights were off, but Chris was waiting for them at the top of the steps. 
“What was I saying about taking in waifs and strays?” she said to Riza pointedly before waving them down the stairs with a sigh. “Roy, what the hell have you got yourself into now?”
“I’m wondering that myself.”
“He’s awake, by the way, but Trisha gave him something for the pain and he’s rambling like no-one’s business. I’m beginning to think she’s got some magic mushrooms in that stock of hers somewhere.”
“Is anything he’s saying making any sense at all?” Roy asked. 
“He’s convinced that Fuhrer Bradley is the spawn of the devil but then, that’s not exactly an uncommon sentiment in these parts.”
They reached the bar; it was empty and the chairs had been put up on the tables. Chris would have cleared it out as soon as Roy had started yelling about people being shot. She led the way through the main room to the drapes at the back, bypassing the clinic and going to a separate room. 
Hughes was inside on a small cot, talking far too fast for human comprehension as Trisha and Hohenheim made sure he was comfortable. Hohenheim’s glasses were now miraculously fixed and back on his face, and having a patient to focus on seemed to have calmed him down and brought him back into the moment. 
Havoc and Armstrong were just looking at each other with increasingly worried expressions. 
“OK, I think you two can go home.” Roy groaned and sank down into the chair; this room ordinarily served as Chris’s office, but he had no idea where the desk had gone or where the cot had come from. “You were never here. You didn’t see anything.”
“Nice try, boss, but we’re all in this together now.” Havoc gave a wry smile. “We’ll go, but we’ll be back again tomorrow. I think you and Hughes are going to need all the help you can get with this one.”
Despite it all, Roy couldn’t say he wasn’t grateful for the assistance. 
Trisha eventually gave Hughes something to knock him out before he exhausted them all, and they all decamped into the bar. Riza was waiting for them; she’d been pouring the good stuff.
“I’ve called Gracia to let her know what’s happening,” she said. “And I’ll stay down here tonight to make sure Hughes is ok.” She looked over at Hohenheim and Trisha. “No offence, but I think Hohenheim probably needs his own bed tonight and you two really need to talk about what the hell just happened.”
“It’s ok, I know.” Trisha reached across and squeezed Hohenheim’s hand, and Roy knew that if there was anyone who could tell them what happened it was Trisha. He also knew that she’d take Hohenheim’s secrets to the grave if she had to. 
“Well,” Riza began, summing up their situation far better than Roy ever could. “This is all kinds of terrifying. What do we do next?”
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fanficshiddles · 4 years
Text
Predator to Prey, Chapter 6
Since being allowed to pet her properly for the first time, it opened up something new for both Loki and Akelia.
She started seeking out his affection often. Finding she enjoyed it, that it felt nice.
When Loki sat on his chair to read, he used his Seidr to turn the pages because Akelia, more often than not, would have her head on his lap for him to stroke her head or scratch her ears. Which he discovered she loved and it would make her back leg start to kick if he hit the right spot, or she would make funny groaning noises. Just like a dog.
He also discovered that she loved her belly being rubbed. She started rolling onto her back for him to do it.
In the mornings she also started jumping up onto his bed for some fussing. He was surprised at himself that he didn’t actually mind that, he enjoyed her companionship more than he would ever admit.
One afternoon Loki was sitting by the fire, waiting for food to cook. He looked over to Akelia who was lying down next to him and he frowned, she was chewing on a large stick. Again. He’d already told her off multiple times before for chewing them, saying she would get them stuck or splinters in her mouth, but she just grumbled at him in response.
Loki rolled his eyes, but didn’t bother telling her off. Because he knew she would just ignore him anyway. He was certain she had selective hearing.
He’d just closed his eyes to rest when suddenly Akelia let out a loud yelp. His eyes flew open and he looked down to see her pawing at her mouth while she whined in obvious pain.
‘Akelia, I told you not to chew damn sticks!’ He chastised and slid off his chair to kneel on the ground next to her.
She looked up at him and grumbled a little, then whined again as her mouth hurt.
‘What have you done? Splinter?’ He reached out towards her muzzle.
She tried moving her head away from him, but he was too swift and managed to grab her. He had to prise her jaw apart to take a look inside, she was snarling at him while he did so, but he ignored her and managed to spot a splinter on her tongue.
‘You daft bugger. You’re going to need to work with me here to get it out, I promise it will hurt less once it’s out.’ Loki said firmly as he conjured tweezers in his hand, causing Akelia’s eyes to widen.
She whined and tried to move away, but Loki grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, making her growl at him.
‘Stop it. Lie down.’ He growled back at her.
She grumbled but lay down as he said. When he moved towards her mouth again, she moved her head away from him.
‘Akelia.’ He said firmly.
She let out a sigh and reluctantly opened her mouth, sticking her tongue out a bit. It was painful and she knew that Loki wouldn’t hurt her, he would help her. She just had to trust him.
Loki was as gentle as possible as he took hold of her tongue and used the tweezers to remove the splinter. She yelped again when he managed to grab it and pull it out, but then she felt instant relief and flopped down onto her side with a big sigh.
‘Now will you stop chewing sticks?’ Loki asked, stroking her side.
She just humphed and looked away from him, making him chuckle.
But Loki then had an idea. He disappeared into his wooden shed at the side of the cottage, where he kept some of the animals he’d hunted. Akelia’s ears twitched as she heard some sawing sounds and then she looked up, intrigued, when he emerged.
He was carrying a bit of an antler from a deer he’d caught yesterday. He tossed it down on front of Akelia and she sniffed it.
‘You can chew that, it won’t splinter and will be good for your teeth.’ He smiled, sitting down.
She started to gnaw on it, then realised he was right, it was perfect for chewing. Glancing over at Loki, she let out a small bark of appreciation then went to town on the antler. It kept her occupied until Loki had their food prepared.
‘Do you like to swim?’ Loki asked after they finished eating.
Akelia tilted her head at him, then flicked it up confirming yes.
‘We should go to the lake later, since it’s such a warm day for a change.’ Loki suggested. ‘Besides, you could do with a wash, you’re getting smelly.’ He teased.
Akelia narrowed her eyes at him and growled a little. He chuckled and patted her head as he got up from his seat, she stuck her back leg out and tripped him over as he walked by.
He glared back at her, and was sure if she was a human she would be smirking. Judging by the look on her face.
She was so expressionful for a wolf. It made him wonder what her origins were.
In the afternoon sun the two took a trip to the lake that was near the edge of the forest, luckily still within the boundary of the trees. Akelia was straight in, glad to cool off since it had turned so hot of late.
Loki was slow to join her, so she swam to the side and pawed at the water, splashing him. He laughed and used his Seidr to have his clothes disappear, then he jumped in near her causing the water to cover her.
When he emerged up from the water, he swam over to her and dunked her head down. She then stayed under the water and tried nipping at his ankles to get her own back, but he was a strong swimmer so was able to get up a good amount of speed.
After swimming around for a while, Loki climbed out of the lake and lay down on the grass with his arms out at his side. He felt warmed when Akelia got out too and lay down next to him, her head and paws resting on his left arm.
They had a snooze on the grass, then made their way back home afterwards. On the way back, Akelia caught a pheasant and another rabbit to add to their food stash.
Akelia was snoozing on the sofa in the evening when her ears started twitching. She could hear one of the sacrifices coming down into the clearing. She grumbled low, alerting Loki, who had sensed her too.
‘Easy, Akelia. Don’t scare her off just yet. Let me have my fun first.’ Loki chuckled and made his way to the door, changing into his Jotun form on the way since it wasn’t quite dusk yet.
Akelia watched intently as Loki went outside to get the girl. She didn’t hear any protests from her, just a gasp of shock at seeing Loki. It was a different story when he guided the girl inside and she spotted the large wolf lying on the sofa.
‘Come on, she won’t harm you. You should be more worried about what I am going to do to you.’ Loki growled, making her whimper as he put a firm hand to her lower back and guided her through to the bedroom.
Akelia usually stayed out in the living room while Loki was having his fun with the girls. But tonight, she decided to go and have a look.
Loki was fucking the girl roughly on the bed, missionary position with the girl’s hands tied above her head. He looked over when he heard Akelia’s footsteps coming into the bedroom. The wolf went to her bed and lay down, but Loki noticed that her blue eyes were locked onto him, watching…
The girl noticed the wolf in the room and started freaking out, that just made Loki even more excited having her squirming under him. He took his pleasure from her, all the while Akelia was watching, then he chucked the girl out once he was done.
Akelia growled and snapped towards her ankles when she ran by out of the room as quickly as possible.
Loki chuckled as he lay down, sweaty and satisfied. He looked down towards Akelia. ‘Did you enjoy the show?’
The wolf just stared back at him.
‘Maybe we need to find you a fellow wolf to have fun with.’ He said, chuckling at her reaction when she humphed and lay her head down.
Loki rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes, drifting off to sleep.
-
Her warm body felt good as she bounced up and down on his cock, he groaned and gripped her hips tightly. Her jet-black hair cascaded down her back, beautiful blue eyes locked onto his while she moved gracefully on top of him.
She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her features were perfect, like a Goddess.
When he came, he moaned and closed his eyes, his head falling back to the pillow. He panted hard, then felt the woman slip off him and out of his grasp.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ He opened his eyes with a smirk, but froze. Expecting to see the woman there, he was shocked to see Akelia sat on the bottom of his bed, staring at him.
Loki sat up suddenly with a gasp, surprised and confused at his dream. But what startled him even more was Akelia was actually sat on the bottom of his bed, watching him.
‘What the…’
Akelia grumbled softly and pawed at his foot that was under the blanket. He looked to the clock on his bedside table and saw it was morning, he’d slept in.
‘You’re wanting breakfast, right?’ He pinched the bridge of his nose as he sat up more.
Akelia gave a small bark and jumped off the bed, wagging her tail.
‘Ok, ok. I’m up, I’m up.’ He groaned and slid out of bed.
As he started to wake up more while he sorted breakfast for them both, he couldn’t stop thinking about his dream. Had it just been a coincidence of his subconscious knowing Akelia was there, watching him and waiting for breakfast? Surely it was…
He shook his head and tried to push it out of his mind.
But later that day, while he watched Akelia chewing her antler, he decided to try and do some research about her. Because from day one, he had a feeling there was something different about her, something that was niggling at him.
And he was going to get to the bottom of it.
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Promises Not Kept Part 28
Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.
Part 28: Leah reaches her breaking point and has to take a step back from it all
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        After delivering the news about Ben Younger’s death, Leah sat in the car. She stared ahead in a daze. How much more could they lose? The deaths just kept getting closer and closer to them. When would it be her turn? Would she die at the hands of her husband’s work? What if Tommy was killed? Leah would be left pregnant and alone just like Ada. Three kids and no father.
           It made her stomach turn just thinking about it.
           Tommy got in the driver’s seat and paused for a moment to take a breath. He didn’t speak for a long moment. The silence settled over in the car as he lifted his hand to turn the key in the ignition.
           Leah glanced over at him when she didn’t hear the car engine start. Her husband was staring in the rearview mirror, his face flushed and his hand on the key shaking. “Tommy.”
           Grace reached from the backseat and touched his shoulder. “Come home to me, Tommy.” She whispered. “Turn the key and come home.”
           “Tommy.”
           Jonah sat beside Grace and leaned forward. “Bring her home to me, Tom. Be a man and bring her home, let me hold her again.” He coaxed.
           “Tommy.” Leah was growing more concerned as her husband’s eyes didn’t move from the mirror.
           “Come home.” Grace pled softly.
           “You’ll be doing the right thing, mate.” Jonah agreed. “Let me hold my Lee again.”
           As if driven by an unnatural force, Tommy turned the key and braced himself. But the fiery arms of an explosion never met him.
           Instead, he was left sitting in a car chugging to life. The ghosts in the backseat disappeared. Only Leah was left behind. Staring at him with immense concern.
           “You’re ill.” She whispered. “Tommy, you’re really ill. I know you are, just please tell me.” She begged. “Tell me and I promise we’ll get you help. I’ll be with you every step of the way.” She reached for his hand. Trying to pull him back to the world of the living.
           But Tommy was so content with one foot in the grave. His body tensed up when she touched him. “I’ve been seeing Grace.” He wiped a hand over his face. His skin felt numb. So numb.
           “What?” She whispered in disbelief. “What are you talking about? You mean you see people who look like her?”
           “No.” He shook his head adamantly. Continuing to pull away from her. “I hear her. She was just sitting in the back seat. Sitting with Jonah.”
           The sound of her late husband’s name alarmed her a great deal. But hearing him describe his hallucinations was even more alarming. Leah knew there was no one in the backseat but she still looked over her shoulder just to confirm that she wasn’t the crazy one. “Tommy, you know that’s not real. They’re just visions. You’re under stress, maybe that’s causing-”
           Tommy laid all his cards on the table. He reached into his coat and showed her the vial.
           Angry tears formed in her eyes when she recognized it. “No...God, no.”
           “I’m sorry.”
           “No, you said…you promised!” Leah frantically grabbed at his arms in a daze. Her rage controlled her muscles, snatching the bottle away from him and tearing at the sleeves of his coat.
           “I’m in pain, Leah!” Tommy rose his voice and tried to push her off. "What else can I do? I'm trying to keep this family together on me own! It doesn't matter what I'm taking!"
           Suffocated in the tight space of the car, she ripped open the door and stumbled out into the street. “You promised me! You said you wouldn’t take it anymore!” Her fist tightened around the vial, threatening to shatter it. Instead, she threw it to the ground and stomped on it with her heel. The blue-green glass crunching helplessly, the liquid flowing across the crevices of the cobblestones. The cracking sound released something inside Leah. The things broke since the very start of their relationship. Everything was so broken and she thought she could just hold him tightly and keep the cracks from showing. But Tommy Shelby would always be Tommy Shelby.
           He got out of the running car and came to her. “I’m sorry. I don't know what else I can say apologize.” Even he knew the apology was weak. How many times had he apologized over their relationship?
           “You promised.” Leah was sobbing uncontrollably at that point, her knees giving in from the crippling grief and anger coursing through her veins. “You promised me, Tommy!” She screamed. “You promised me everything and you just…you just break everything. You break everything! You’ve never kept a promise, never, never, never.” She resulted in nothing but repetitive rambling. The stress seizing her, gripping onto her and refusing to let go.
           Tommy caught her before she fell to the ground. The explosion, the death of Ben and the young boy. Everything overwhelmed him. She was right. He broke everything. It was about high time he broke Oswald Mosley.
~~~~~~~
           “Mumma, where are we going?” Johanna had woken up from her nap in the backseat. Charlie was peacefully watching the scenery pass by the window. Cyril was wedged between the two children, panting happily.
           “A little holiday, won’t that be fun, love?” Leah asked from the front seat. Tommy drove beside her, driving down the winding roads to the destination he’d once been before.
           “There’s the ocean!” Charlie exclaimed. Cyril barked happily when he began to recognize his surroundings. His tail began to wag and he pawed at the seat in front of him.
           “Alright, alright, calm down.” Tommy hushed the large dog. “You’re gonna flip the car over.” He pulled down the long driveway to the large manor on the ocean.
           “Now, this isn’t our house so we have to be on our best behavior,” Leah said gently as she opened the door to let the kids and Cyril out.
           The bullmastiff ran right for the front door that opened once the car pulled up the drive
           “Hello, Alfie.”
          “Hello, Cyril. Hello, boy. Yeah, there’s a good lad.” Alfie took the first few minutes to greet his dog. The bull mastiff’s tail was wagging almost violently as he whined and pressed into Alfie’s legs.
           “Well, he hasn’t missed you at all.” Tommy joked.
           “Dogs, yeah, they’re smarter than most people, mate. Got real strong loyalties.” Alfie straightened up. “Let’s have a look see, then. The Shelby family.” He put his hands on his hips.
           “Charles, Johanna, this is Mr. Solomons.” Leah introduced the man, trying not to gawk at his left eye. The injury her husband left was horrible and she couldn’t imagine how painful it was. It was a wonder Alfie had survived it.
           Johanna beamed up at Alfie, not too put off by his marred eye. “Hi.” She waved at him.
           Charlie, however, was old enough to know that most people didn’t have scars like Alfie did. “What happened to your eye?” He blurted out.
           “Charles.” Leah bent down. “That’s not nice.” She scolded.
           “S’alright, Leah.” Alfie held out a hand to reassure her. “It’s quite a story, Charlie boy. S’got dragons and monsters so if you’re good, I’ll tell it to ya.”
           The little boy’s eyes widened in awe and he nodded.
           “C’mon in then.” Alfie let them inside. Cyril made himself right at home, trotting into the parlor and sniffing around.
           “You have a lovely place, Alfie,” Leah said as Tommy took her coat for her. "And right on the ocean, it's quite the view."
           “Thank you, yeah, s’nice to be here year ‘round now, innit?” Alfie walked down the hall. “Want tea?”
           “S’pose we should sit down and have a chat.” Tommy agreed.
           “Would it be alright if the children played outside?” Leah wondered. She had a feeling the conversation wouldn’t be something the kids should hear. Not after the confrontation the men had years ago.
           “’Course, they can fucking tear up the garden if they’d like. It’s getting overgrown anyway.”
           “Alright, I’ll get them settled.” Leah looked to her husband. “Maybe you two should talk first.”
           Charlie and Johanna went out to the front lawn to play with Cyril. Leah stood out with them for a moment before heading back inside. She entered the parlor where Tommy and Alfie were talking.
           “Come in, come in.” Alfie greeted her. “Just having a chat ‘bout your husband’s shit aim and the number he’s done on me face.”
           Leah sat down in one of the many comfortable chairs in the parlor. Her eye was drawn to the strange oddities that Alfie kept in the room. Taxidermy animals, antiques, and gadgets that looked valuable. All things that were sure to keep the children entertained for the week that they planned on staying there. Of course, the timing was tentative. It all relied on Tommy’s plan going smoothly or not.
           “I was glad to hear you survived.” She said but the words sounded strange and awkward.
           Alfie appeared amused. “Well, you are one of the few to actually say that.” He folded his hands over his stomach.
           “Well, thank you for taking us in at such short notice.”
           “Curious to know, Tommy, how did you even find out I was dead?” Alfie didn’t want to appear weak by giving refuge to the mother and children. Of course, he would protect the innocent, even if they were Tommy’s family.
           “You wrote me a letter, Alfie.”
           “Did I?” He raised his eyebrows in surprise.
           Leah looked shocked too. Tommy had failed to mention that letter. She was sure that he would tell her about a letter from a man who was supposed to be dead. It pointed to the distance in their relationship.
           “You asked about your dog.”
           “Yeah, well I were on a lot of drugs.” He gestured to his face. “On account of being shot in the face by a cunt.”
           Leah bit her lip. “How are you faring now?” She hoped being gentle would be her best bet.
           “Learning to live with just one functioning eye.” Alfie shrugged. He glanced over at Tommy. “Think I’m doing better than your husband. You’ve gotten yourself into fascism, aye, stupid boy?”
           Tommy didn’t react probably in the way Alfie hoped. Instead, he just calmly took a drag of his cigarette. “I’m planning on killing Oswald Mosley.”
           “You’re going to kill the man and then you think you can kill the message.”
           “I will kill the message.”
           Leah looked down at her hands and felt like just curling up into herself. She didn’t want to know what dangers they were really facing. If she focused on it then she may have tried to stop Tommy from leaving.
~~~~~~~~
           But he did leave. After kissing the children goodbye, Tommy got in the car and started to drive back to London. Leah stood in the doorway, watching his car drive off. Her chest was tight with fear and it felt almost paralyzing.
           “Would ya like to bring the kids down to the beach?” Alfie came up behind her. “Get your mind offa things?” His tone was significantly gentler once Tommy was gone. The gangster act he upheld so well could be set to the side. He didn’t need to keep his reputation for Leah and her children.
           She turned. “Oh, yes. I’m sure they would like that.” She forced a smile.
           Johanna and Charlie were delighted to visit the beach. Alfie brought down a little pail for Johanna to collect shells and a ball for Charlie to throw for Cyril.
           “Forgive me, but I didn’t think you’d be so…”
           “Nice?” Alfie chuckled. “Funny thing when you die and become resurrected. Makes you think ‘bout all the things you used to do, right? Spent decades fighting. But a man can’t fight forever.”
           Leah’s forehead creased. That didn’t ring true for Tommy. He couldn’t relax, couldn’t accept a quiet life. He always needed to fight and she didn’t understand why.
           The two were quiet as the stood near the dunes of the beach. Watching Charlie running around with Cyril was refreshing. The little boy was allowed to forget about the grief he had over his horse and the misunderstanding between him and his father. Johanna seemed content as she trotted around with the pail. She dragged it through the sand as she would stop, crouch down and pick something up.
           “This is the first time you didn’t call me Rosetta’s girl.” Leah realized quietly. "Before you used to call me that every time we met."            
           “That right?” Alfie didn’t seem surprised. In fact, it appeared that he knew what she was talking about. “Well, to be honest this were the first time you’ve looked like your own person.”
           She looked at him in surprise. “Pardon?”
           “You’ve got two kids, a life of your own, yeah? Sure, you’re married, but you ain’t lost anymore.”
           Leah wanted to ask what he meant by ‘lost’ but then it hit her. She wasn’t lost. Alfie was correct in that. She had found her place in the world. “I’m afraid everything is going to unravel.” She admitted. Never in her wildest dreams did she think Alfie Solomons would be a confidante for her.
           “Your husband’s campaign is foolish. But at least he’s doing something that no one else will.”
           “You believe he can do something about all of this?” She asked in disbelief. Encountering Mosley was a different experience. The man gave an impression of arrogance that was almost justified. The kind of man that thought he could get away with anything because he had already gotten away with so much. Knowing Tommy was up against him scared her.
           He looked over the horizon where the ocean met the sky. “Time will tell, won’t it?”
           “I suppose.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~
           Once the sun began to set, they went inside to wash up for dinner. The kids waited in the parlor as Alfie’s maid prepared the meal. Johanna sat on the floor with the pail, pulling out each shell and rock to show Alfie. The little girl decided she like the man, despite his appearance. Even Charlie warmed up to him almost instantly.
           “Lookit.” Johanna handed Alfie a smooth stone.
           “That looks like a skipping stone. You know how to skip stones, Charlie?”
           “Yeah, dad taught me.” The little boy nodded. He was sat outside on the balcony overlooking the ocean with Alfie’s binoculars.
           “Let’s save this one, aye?” He set the rock aside. “Your brother can skip it tomorrow."
           “See?” Johanna held up a conch shell next.
           “Look at that!” Alfie turned the shell over in his hand. “Hard to find ones that are complete like this, no chips or pieces missing.” He showed her the inside. “That’s where little critters live. They hole on up in there."
           “And this!” Johanna passed him something else.
           “Let’s see then. Well, lookit here. Tha’s sea glass, Jo.” He held the smoothed over green piece to the light. “Lucky find, that is.”
           “This is for mummy.”
           “Oh yeah? What’s this?” Alfie gently took the scallop shell, his thumb smoothing over the pinkish cream-colored inside and then over the ridges of the outside. “Want to give that to mum?”
           “Yeah.”
           “You have the other half? Oh yeah, look.” Alfie touched the two halves of the shell together. “Critters live in here too 'til they outgrow ‘em and find a bigger shell. How’s ‘bout you give the other half to dad?”
           “Okay.” Johanna agreed and continued sifting through the pail, the objects clinking against the metal.
           Leah came into the parlor after freshening up for dinner. “Looking through your treasures?” She kissed the top of Johanna’s head.
           The little girl beamed up at her mother. “I found s’glass.” She chirped happily.
           “Maybe you can leave Alfie some, I’m not sure we’ll be able to bring all of that home.” Leah laughed softly.
           Johanna cupped her hands, picking up a handful of rocks and shells and promptly poured them into Alfie’s hands. “Tha’s yours."
           “Oh well that’s very kind, that is. We’ll have to find places to put ‘em.” He smiled and stood up.
           Leah walked out to the balcony and sat down beside her son. “See anything?” She smoothed his blond hair back and briefly thought about having to get him a haircut soon.
           “Yeah, there are ships.” He continued looking through the binoculars.
           “I wonder where they’re going.”
           Charlie simply shrugged. He had something else on his mind. “Why didn’t dad stay here with us?”
           “He’s got to work.” She replied. “He’ll take a holiday with us this summer.” She promised and hoped it was something that would come true. At that point she was just hoping everyone ended up alive. They could discuss holidays later.
           “Mum,” The boy lowered the binoculars and set them down in his lap. He looked up at her with concern in his eyes. “Is dad okay?”
           It was everything Leah was afraid of. It didn’t matter if Leah and Tommy argued behind closed doors. Children picked up on everything even if it was unsaid. That’s why Johanna liked Alfie. She could see beyond his tough exterior. Charlie could see the decline in his father’s mental health. It didn’t matter how hard Leah tried to keep a positive atmosphere in the home.
           “Sometimes, people struggle with being sad. Daddy will be okay but…” The words got stuck in her throat.
           “But what?”
           “But we need to give him lots of love to help him.” She tried to smile but her muscles felt too tense to even function correctly. “You and Joey can do that, right?”
           Charlie nodded. “Yeah.”
           “Mummy, I got a shell for you.” Johanna came wandering over with the scallop shells. “And this is for daddy.”
           “Oh, thank you, poppet.” She took the shells in her hands and kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Daddy will love it. C'mon you two, I'm sure dinner'll will be done soon."
~~~~~~~~~
           After dinner, Leah got the children to bed and went into the parlor to read for just a little bit. She noticed some of the shells that Johanna had collected were now placed among the artifacts on Alfie’s shelves and cabinets. Some sand lingered on the wood surfaces.
           Alfie came in with a cup of tea and settled into his armchair. He glanced out the balcony to where the sun had disappeared. The sky blooming into an array of purples and blues.
           “Did Tommy tell you I was pregnant?” Leah wondered.
           “He did.” Alfie nodded. “Used it as a threat. If I hurt you-such and such.” He waved a hand.
           Leah tilted her head in acknowledgment. That sounded like her husband. “It’s funny. When I was pregnant with Johanna, I thought it would make things better. Tommy would settle down more.” She shook her head. “It was stupid to think that.”
           “What’s your end goal?”
           “My end goal?” She paused. Most days, she didn’t even know which way was up. So many things had rocked her world beyond repair. It ended up that she couldn’t only think one day at a time. As long as her children were safe in bed at the end of the day, it was a success. But long term? “I don’t know.” She admitted quietly. Could she even guarantee tomorrow? Could she guarantee that she wouldn’t get a call saying that Tommy had been shot dead?
           “Something to think about.”
           She frowned and felt some anxiety bubble in her stomach. “I don’t want to wish for something that’s not plausible. It’s not worth the time spending if it’s unrealistic. I just want my children to be safe and have a good life.”
           He watched her with thoughtful eyes. “And you don’t think you can provide them with that?”
           Leah paused. When she lost Jonah, her world came crashing down. But she didn’t have children to care for back then. If she were to lose Tommy, she wouldn’t have the option to break down again. She would have to hold everything together for the sake of Charlie, Johanna, and the baby on the way. “I want Tommy to be okay.”
           Alfie nodded. “Think doctors can get into that brain of his?”
           She sighed quietly. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m close and he slips away.”
           The man was quiet for a moment. “Well, I wouldn’t want to be fucking married to ‘im that’s for damn sure.”
           Leah shared a laugh with him. “It’s hard to explain love." She admitted. "But I'll never stop loving him."
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