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knightjane · 3 years

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A while ago I got asked to write a modern au where Obi-Wan and Anakin get in a fight about how to best care for the twins. (All fluff!) This is what I came up with. (It's based off the episode of full house 'yours, mine, and ours.')

Obi-Wan sat on the couch eating strawberries with a bored look on his face. With a sigh he slumped further down the couch, his eyes once again landing on the door, waiting for the moment Anakin and Luke got back from their trip to the store.

Finally after another few minutes the door to the house opened and Obi-Wan stood up, smiling when he saw Anakin walk in with a bright smile on his face. "I'm hoooome!" Anakin yelled obnoxiously and Obi-Wan couldn't help but feel slight relief. He was happy he wouldn't have to sit alone anymore. Of course he enjoyed his breaks but at the moment he had been missing Anakin dearly.

The wind blew harshly behind Anakin, filling the living room with cold air and snow before being quickly shut. In Anakin's right hand he carried a one year old Luke who lay in his plastic portable car seat.

Practically skipping over to Obi-Wan, Anakin sat the baby on the small coffee table in front of the couch before giving Obi-Wan a little hug which he returned the best he could. When they parted Obi-Wan's eyes immediately fell to Luke. His smile sunk as soon as he saw exactly what Luke was wearing, or in other words, what he wasn't wearing. Obi-Wan turned his eyes back up to Anakin who seemed to think there was nothing wrong as he still hadn't seemed to remove the huge smile that was covering his face.

"Anakin...Luke isn't wearing a hat." Concern was evident in Obi-Wan's voice as his eyes narrowed on Anakin. Thank goodness Anakin had remembered a coat this time but Luke's ears just had to be freezing, Obi-wan thought to himself.

The other man looked down at Luke for just a moment. "We were only outside for a minute," Anakin said, still very obviously not seeing the problem as he carelessly set the bags on the table, revealing he hadn't just gotten the baby food Obi-Wan had asked but chips too.

With a sigh Obi-Wan turned away from Luke and the bags to look up at Anakin. He raised an eyebrow, hoping he wouldn't have to elaborate further on why bringing a baby out in the cold without a hat was a bad idea. Anakin shrugged. "What?"

"Anakin, Luke could have gotten frost bite. Look at how red his cheeks are." Both Anakin and Obi-Wan look down at Luke.

Anakin chuckled. "Little tomato." Obi-Wan crossed his arms in a frustrated manner. Anakin sighed. "Obi, he always looks like a tomato. It's his natural tone." Anakin gently pinched Luke's cheek, making the little boy giggle. Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile only slightly at Luke's happiness but the smile faded quickly as he remembered he had to be stern.

"Anakin! Next time you bring him outside you need to put a hat on him!" Obi-Wan reached down to touch Luke's head. "Anakin, he's freezing," he scolded.

Anakin huffed. "He's fine." Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, making Anakin whine. "It was two minutes. I shielded him from the snow. He only went to the car and back Obi-Wan." Anakin paused for a moment before adding. "Look, not even Padme is this over protective of the kids."

Obi-Wan hummed, a determined look forming in his eyes. "Oh really?"

Anakin nodded. "Oh yeah. She would think it's fine!"

Obi-Wan huffed definitely. "Okay, then let's talk to her."

Anakin froze. "Talk to her?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "If you are so confident bringing Luke out into the snow without a hat is fine, then let's call her and ask."

Anakin pouted. "Obi!" Obi-Wan doesn't relent. Eventually Anakin sighed and pulled out his phone. "You're really going to make me call her about this?"

Obi-Wan nodded. "I'm trying to prove a point."

Anakin sighed and quickly called Padme, putting the phone on speaker. Padme picked up the phone almost immediately. "What did you do?"

Anakin chocked. "Nothing!"

Obi-Wan hummed. "Anakin..." he warned.

"Why do you always think I did something wrong?" Anakin whined into the phone.

Padme hummed. "Sorry Ani. Is Obi-Wan being mean to you again?" Anakin looked up at Obi-Wan who was once again raising an eyebrow at him. Anakin chuckled nervously.

"N-No," he said in a small voice. "I umm, well you see...the thing is-"

Obi-Wan interjected. "He brought Luke out into the cold without a hat."

Anakin gasped. "For two minutes!"

Padme sighed. "Sorry Anakin. But Luke should have been in a hat." Anakin whined and Obi-Wan smirked only just big enough for Anakin to notice. "Why wasn't he in a hat again?" Padme questioned with the slightest bit of exasperation.

"I brought him to the store with me and then back to the house. He was only outside for a short time. His baby ears could handle it." Anakin turned to Luke. "Luke, back me up here."

Anakin held the phone up to Luke's mouth. "Da," Luke mumbled.

Anakin looked oddly proud of him and patted him on the head. "Good boy." He spoke back into the phone. "See, fine."

Padme sighed into the phone. "Just..." A pause."Those twins better be alive when I pick them up tomorrow. Work this out among yourselves."

"Yes Padme," Anakin and Obi-Wan both respond in unison.

"Good," Padme said before hanging up, already seeming to be done with both of them.

After the call ended Anakin pouted and turned away from Obi-Wan. He eventually looked at Luke and started taking him out of his seat while mumbling. "Everyone is always so mean to me." He set Luke on the carpet and handed him a small toy that was laying on the coffee table. Luke hit the toy against the ground excitedly and squealed.

"I am not mean to you. I just...I worry Anakin." Anakin was about to respond when Leia let out a cry from her crib in the other room. Anakin bolted from his place on the carpet and ran to help Leia. Obi-Wan quickly followed, leaving Luke alone with his toy.

When Obi-Wan entered the room Anakin had already started bouncing Leia on his hip. As he bounced Leia he looked down at Obi-Wan with that classic pout he always seemed to wear when Obi-Wan scolded him. "You know, if you were the only one in charge of raising Luke he'd grow up to be pampered. He can handle a minute in the cold. I was protecting him."

Obi-Wan huffed. "And if you raised Leia she wouldn't be pampered either?"

Anakin looked away, trying not to seem embarrassed. "Well....not as soft as yours."

"Anakin, you try to give them a present everyday, they would be spoiled," Obi-Wan retorted, thoughts of all the unnecessary gifts Anakin had already bought filling his head.

Anakin snorted. "They would have all the materials they needed."

Obi-Wan briefly bit his bottom lip, not wanting to laugh. "You mean children need a five pound water gun incase they, and I quote, 'need to soak a bitch.' Anakin they can't even walk yet."

Anakin let's out a loud, unashamed laugh. "I don't even remember saying that."

Obi-Wan sighed. "Well you did."

"I swear sometimes I am so funny! I truly crack mys-" Anakin stopped when he saw Obi-Wan glaring at him again.

"Anakin, you must admit. Sometimes you pamper the twins as much as I do," Obi-Wan said, his tone lightening to a more playful one.

Anakin sighed. "Sometimes! Only sometimes!"

Obi-Wan hummed. "Then I assume you didn't buy the twins any toy when you went to the store less than an hour ago."

Anakin shoved a hand in his pocket, still holding Leia on his hip with his other arm. "I...how dare you accuse me of such things!"

Obi-Wan looked down at Anakin's pocket then back up. "What's in your pocket?" Anakin opened his mouth to interject but Obi-Wan stopped him. "Show me."

Anakin whined and pulled out a weird looking stuffed duck about the size of his fist.

"And what is that?" Obi-Wan asked while trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Anakin looked down. "A stuffed duck...for Luke. He was....he just kept trying to grab it. Plus....I already named it so no returns."

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes fondly. "Oh Anakin....just tell me the name."

Anakin was silent for a moment. "Mr. Quaker," he mumbled.

Obi-Wan rubbed a hand over his face. "What did I get into?" He asked himself.

Anakin put the duck back in his pocket and giggled. "Aww, what do you mean? You love me. And you love the fact I'm willing to spoil the twins every chance I get." Anakin inched closer and Obi-Wan who sighed, smiling just slightly.

"It is slightly endearing," Obi-Wan relented.

Anakin smirked. "See, I told you. You adore me."

Obi-Wan giggled. "Yes fine, I adore you." Anakin was about to say something more when a loud cry from the other room startled them both.

Anakin and Obi-Wan both stare at each other before Anakin pushed Leia into Obi-Wan's arms and rushed out of the room. Panicked as well, Obi-Wan carefully set down Leia, rubbing her cheek affectionately before he left.

Obi-Wan walked to the living room and gasped when he saw Luke. Luke's face had swollen slightly. A smashed strawberry lay in front of the baby, indicating he had eaten it or at least tried. Anakin picked Luke up and Obi-Wan walked closer to pick up the smashed strawberry. "I never put them away." He whispered to himself, shame instantly filling him.

Anakin looked at Luke. "He's never had strawberries before, I think he's allergic. Obi-Wan what do we do?"

Obi-Wan panicked as he looked at Luke. "I'll call a doctor." He ran off while Anakin comforted Luke. Obi-Wan didn't know how he could be so irresponsible. He was an idiot. This was worse than bringing the baby out in the cold without a hat for two minutes. He should have known those strawberries were low enough for Luke to grab them. Here he was lecturing Anakin when he was the one that needed to be punished.

About five minutes later Obi-Wan rushed back in on the phone. On the other end the doctor asked questions about Luke, Obi-Wan giving him as many details as he could. Obi-Wan then ran to the kitchen and ran back in less than a minute holding an ice pack wrapped in a towel, he pressed it gently to Luke's head.

After about two more minutes Obi-Wan hung up. Anakin looked nervously at him. "So? What do we do?"

Obi-Wan took a deep breath. "We got lucky, the allergic reaction wasn't that serious. All Luke needs is time and ice." Obi-Wan and Anakin both study Luke, relieved when they see the swelling had started to go down just slightly. Obi-Wan looked guiltily at Anakin. "I'm sorry for being such a hypocrite. Here I was lecturing you about bringing Luke out into the cold when I was irresponsible enough to leave strawberries low enough to the ground that Luke could eat them."

A soft expression came over Anakin's features as he stared at Obi-Wan. "It's okay Obi-Wan. We all make mistakes." Anakin smirked slightly. "Plus, we're even now."

Obi-Wan groaned. "Yes, even."

Anakin chuckled. "I will be telling Padme about this though."

Obi-Wan nodded, his cheeks turning a little red with embarrassment. "Yeah....I know."

Anakin leaned down and kissed Obi-Wan's forehead. Obi-Wan looked up at him with a tiny smile and Anakin returned it with a gentle one. "I love you Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan looked at him with a fond yet knowing smile. "I know."

Request by @kcat92 Thank you so much! I loved writing it! 🥰

#could be platonic or romantic #obi wan and anakin #anakin x obi wan #obi wan x anakin #obikin #obi-wan kenobi #anakin skywalker #luke skywalker #leia skywalker #padme amidala #star wars

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raywritesthings · 4 years

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Bird in a Storm 4/17

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Oliver Queen, Tommy Merlyn, John Diggle, Joanna de la Vega, Quentin Lance, Frank Pike, Felicity Smoak Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: The confrontation between the Hood and SWAT on the roof of the Winick Building goes differently, altering the course of Laurel’s career, relationships and efforts to save her city forever, the shockwaves of such an altered path making themselves felt throughout her family and friends. *Can be read on my AO3, link is in bio*

Joanna couldn’t believe it when she first got the news. But the multiple texts from her coworkers at CNRI proved its veracity: Laurel was being forced out.

She headed over to her friend’s apartment and was let in by a surly Tommy Merlyn.

“You wouldn’t be here to talk some sense into her, would you?”

“I’m here to support my friend.” Joanna headed past him into the sitting room where Laurel looked up from her laptop.

“Hey. I guess you heard.”

“Yeah. Are you okay?” She’d meant to come by even earlier to see her after that whole incident with her injury, but they’d had family in visiting still. It didn’t keep her from feeling guilty for not being there when Laurel clearly needed someone.

She shrugged. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“Just your career,” Tommy reminded them all as he passed by on his way back to the bedrooms. The door shut hard behind him.

Joanna hid a wince and took the spot next to Laurel on the couch. “Where have you been looking?”

“Everywhere?” Laurel shifted so she could look at the cover letter her friend was drafting. “It’s a little hard when I can’t talk much about my only place of employment or use them as a reference.”

“I guess your reputation of taking down corporate big shots isn’t too helpful when applying for corporate law.”

“No, it is not.”

Joanna shook her head. This was so unfair and everyone knew it. “You want me to talk to Eric?”

Laurel shook her head. “It won’t do any good. He’s under the thumb of CNRI’s backers.”

“And those backers want you to starve?”

“They want to see the Hood punished. Since they can’t do that, I guess I’m the next best thing.”

“But you’re more than just a connection to the Hood. If you hadn’t been helping me solve my brother’s murder, nobody would even know you’ve worked with him. None of this would’ve happened.” Joanna hung her head.

“I wouldn’t take it back if it meant not exposing the truth about your brother’s death. Or saving the chief. Those were good things.”

Before Joanna could answer, the bedroom door opened again and Tommy stopped in the sitting room. “I’m heading out.”

Laurel set her laptop aside and stood. “Okay. Did you want me to wait on dinner?”

“I’ll eat while I’m out.” He gave a curt nod to Joanna, then turned and headed to the front door.

Laurel wavered on the balls of her feet. “Have a good day,” she called just before the door shut.

“Does he really have to start at the club that early?”

“His hours are what he wants them to be. And right now, he does not want to be here.” Laurel sighed and dropped back down into her spot. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Maybe… maybe you just take the deal. It’d make things a lot easier for you and your relationship,” she pointed out. It was the practical choice. The safe one. But she knew Laurel was rarely interested in safe or practical.

Her friend looked at her. “Jo, you know as well as I do what lying about the Hood would look like to our clients.”

She grimaced. That was a hard point to refute. Laurel was good at what she did precisely because of the trust she garnered in their clients. They really believed she was willing to put everything on the line in the name of justice. The time had come to prove she was.

“There is one thing about CNRI,” Laurel told her. “Thea. Anastasia has agreed to become her temporary sponsor, but when you go back to work, I’d really appreciate it if you could take over. I feel like Thea could learn a lot from you.”

She felt herself smile. “Yes, of course. Actually, on one condition.” Laurel frowned, but Joanna wasn’t worried. “If you ever need anything, you let me know. A reference, food — my mom misses cooking for a group.”

“I don’t think things are that drastic yet,” Laurel was quick to say.

“You never know. It isn’t exactly cheap to live in this town. Except in the Glades.”

“Yeah,” Laurel agreed quietly. “Thank you for the offer, Jo. Really.”

“I’m your friend, Laurel. It’s what we do. I’m gonna miss you when I go back.”

“You’ll do fine without me.”

“I don’t know. I don’t love the odds,” Joanna told her. Laurel pulled her in for a hug.

“Me neither. But we have to keep fighting.”

She nodded into Laurel’s shoulder. Then she pulled back. “So, jobs. You try the DA’s office yet?”

“Yeah, I think Kate Spencer is my least biggest fan at the moment.”

Joanna couldn’t help a snort. “Yeah. That figures.”

Laurel joined her in laughter. Sometimes that was all you could do.

---

It had taken him practically begging for Laurel to finally come see him at the station. She wouldn’t go to his home, and he knew he still wasn’t welcome in hers. That was assuming it was hers for much longer, the way she was going.

“I don’t get it. I really don’t. They don’t wanna let you go. Nobody wants to see you leave CNRI. You’re the best they got!” He paced back and forth in the space between table and wall of the interrogation room he’d commandeered to try and talk some sense into his daughter. “Why would you throw that away?”

“Because if I agreed to what they’re asking, I wouldn’t be the best anymore. I’d just prove to be susceptible to coercion.”

“Coercion to help control a criminal. That’s not coercion, that’s- that’s cooperating with law enforcement!”

“A lot of people in the Glades see that as the same thing,” she stated while looking straight at him.

“Hey now,” he said, raising a warning finger. “I’m not saying this department is perfect, but you gotta have order in a society. This Hood guy, he’s disrupting that.”

“If it was already so broken, maybe it needed disrupted,” she argued.

Quentin could feel his frustration mounting despite his promise to himself not to get angry with her today. The investors at CNRI were pushing the issue because he’d pushed it first — but there wouldn’t be an issue if she’d just see reason!

They were interrupted by a quick rap on the door and the desk sergeant poking his head in.

“Detective, there’s a woman at the desk asking — well, she called you Laurel Lance’s father,” the sergeant amended with a glance Laurel’s way. “I think she might really be looking for you, Miss.”

Laurel took a step forward, but he said, “Send her back here.”

The desk sergeant left and returned a few minutes later with an older woman with dark skin whose face lit up when she saw his daughter.

“Well, Miss Lance!”

“Hello, Mrs. Ross.” Laurel embraced the other woman, and Quentin tried to remember if she’d been a client or family of one.

“I heard through the grapevine you’d been fired. It’s a disgrace, and after everything you’ve done for that office!”

“Thank you,” His daughter said, a small smile gracing her lips.

“You find some other work yet?”

“Not just yet. Most of the law firms in this city aren’t too keen to attach my name to themselves at the moment.”

“I thought so. Well, they’re all a bunch of thieves anyway. So listen, if you need something to keep you afloat, I’ve been asking around. My neighbor’s aunt has this friend, she’s got a flower shop on Wells and 17th Street, and she’s been looking for a helper for a while now. Arthritis getting bad in her fingers.”

“Oh,” said Laurel. She glanced his way, uncertain. “I’ll have to stop by and introduce myself.”

“Mm-hm. It’s honest work, which beats most things. Gotta put the food on the table.” She looked to him as if expecting to share a grin. Quentin’s lips didn’t even twitch.

Mrs. Ross dropped her gaze to her purse, which she rifled around in. “Here, I wrote the address down for you. You show up anytime and just tell her I sent you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Ross.” Laurel hugged her again. “It means a lot.”

“Well, we all gotta help each other, cause them upstairs never will.” She darted a look in Quentin’s direction and stepped back. “You take care, now.”

“I will. Thank you.”

Mrs. Ross left the room, and the silence in her wake was deafening. Laurel looked down at the paper in her hands, which was really just a way of avoiding looking at him.

“A florist?” He finally asked. “That’s what you’re gonna be now?”

Laurel grimaced. “Has to beat retail, right?”

“Laurel, honey, just be reasonable, alright? No vigilante is worth this much no matter what he’s done.”

“And what am I worth?” Laurel asked. “My word, my integrity. That’s what’s on the line here just as much as his reputation. If your boss asked you to lie about some case just because it would make a few CEOs happy, would you do it, dad?”

If he answered truthfully, it wouldn’t make everything right again. Except: “Lying about a case is a lot different than saying a criminal’s a criminal.”

Laurel shook her head before walking to the door. “The next time you wonder why residents in the Glades don’t trust the cops? Remember that.”

She left without letting him respond. It never helped that the both of them always wanted the last word.

“Detective?”

“What?” He snapped. Kelton just blinked at him, and he sighed. “What was it?”

“The incident report was filed for the, uh, Winick Building use of force.”

He straightened up right away. If he couldn’t save Laurel from her own reckless decisions, he could at least nail the idiot who had hurt her that night. “Well?”

“The rubber bullet came from Officer Daily’s weapon.”

“Daily.” Something had always seemed off about that one. He hadn’t even been one of Quentin’s first picks that night, just volunteered because he was on shift. Probably one of those gun-happy nuts who thought the job was more about shooting people than about keeping the peace. Quentin never minded knocking one of those guys down a peg. “Good work, Kelton.”

He left the interview room and headed to Frank’s office where he rapped on the door. It took a few minutes for his superior to open it.

“Got a minute?”

“I suppose,” Frank Pike sighed. “It’s either now or later with you anyway.”

He showed him in, though Quentin remained standing. “You see the incident report?”

“Well? What’s gonna happen to Daily?”

Frank brought his hands together in a gesture that rarely meant good news. “That’s up to Captain Stein’s decision. From what I understand, there will be no disciplinary action.”

Quentin thought he felt his eyes bug out. “What do you mean, no disciplinary action? The man shot a civilian!”

“It’s a difficult situation, Quentin, one you probably should have thought of before you made your daughter a person of interest to the Taskforce,” Frank pointed out none-too-gently. “Daily believed he was shooting at the vigilante. He has expressed no ill intent towards Laurel or any other civilians since. Laurel didn’t even press charges.”

“And you’re lucky she didn’t since it would’ve exposed us being caught in another lie,” he snarked. “Look, if Stein wants to let the whole thing go, that’s his prerogative. But Daily was under my command that night, so I’ll decide—”

“You won’t go near Daily,” Pike said, standing from his desk. “You won’t speak to him, won’t touch him. It’s a huge conflict of interest, Quentin, one that could see you in front of an ethics committee if Stein decided to pursue the matter.”

Quentin stood there a minute, hardly daring to believe it. Far from threatening him, Frank was trying to protect him, and from his own superior. But he was also protecting an officer who had demonstrated gross misconduct. “You know this isn’t right, though.”

“I know what my orders are. I’m telling you what yours are now. Are we understood?”

Quentin looked down, his jaw working for a moment or so. “Sure.” Then he left the office.

Back at his desk, he checked the incident report. Nowhere in it did it actually confirm that Laurel had been struck by Daily’s bullet; it simply made note that Daily’s gun had been returned with one bullet missing. The official record would never hold him accountable and, apparently, neither would any of them.

Why nobody trusted the cops indeed.

---

It had been a long evening of arguing with the contractors yet again. Tommy had been hoping to be done with that long ago, but thanks to the fire last month, they were still in the building process. It didn’t help matters that Oliver tended to disappear as soon as he turned his back for more than a few minutes. He was just glad to be heading home for one night.

Tommy entered the apartment, frowning as he took in the stripped-down sight of it.

“Laurel?”

“Hey.” She came in from the bedroom, a notepad in one hand and a box under her other arm. It looked to have some of her court suits folded up inside.

“What’s going on?”

“I started an account to sell some extra things for rent this month. Since CNRI is a nonprofit that struggles to stay open as it is, they don’t exactly have severance packages.”

“You’re auctioning off your belongings,” he stated flatly.

“They’re clothes, Tommy, not precious heirlooms.”

“And what about next month’s rent? What’ll you have to give up, then?” Even if Laurel let him cover all of it, they’d barely make it along with food and other expenses. He was too proud to ask Oliver for a raise, especially so soon, and it shouldn’t be necessary. None of this was necessary, but Laurel was stubborn enough to go ahead with it anyway.

She seemed to sense his irritation, for it was apologetic eyes she turned on him. “Next month I’m hoping to be out of here. The landlord already said he’s happy to waive the fee for breaking the lease. I think he’ll be glad to have less attacks.” When he didn’t even crack a smile, Laurel started playing with the hem of her sweater. “I’m taking a job at a flower shop for now. So we’ll have to start looking for something in a cheaper neighborhood.”

A flower shop. That was the next grand step in this plan of hers.

He couldn’t believe this. All this time, he’d seen Laurel as something of an unattainable ideal, with some faults perhaps, but nothing in comparison to his own. While he’d been drinking and sleeping through life, she had followed a path to success. And all of that she was willing to give up for the sake of some killer who had decided to make her a centerpiece for his crazed vendetta on the city. He couldn’t just stand by and watch that happen.

Tommy had been trying to make himself better for her, but it seemed clear to him now that the problems in this relationship weren’t just with him.

“Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, we will. But separately.”

“What do you mean?”

He gathered a breath. “I thought I wanted this. You. But I was wrong.”

He walked back towards the bedroom. Laurel set her box down and followed him, her eyes widening as she found him pulling clothes out of the drawer — the drawer he had fought tooth and nail to get only a month ago.

“Tommy, talk to me.”

“Why should I? You haven’t been talking to me. Not about meeting up with the Hood, not about the decisions you’re making with your career, the apartment.”

“My career is my choice,” she argued, yet her shoulders slumped as she added, “But I shouldn’t have lied to you about meeting the Hood. I know that, Tommy. And we can still make this work—”

“Just answer me this,” he said, turning back to her as he shut the drawer. “Would you give up everything you’re giving up right now for me?”

Laurel’s head gave a minute shake. “Why would I need to?”

“Exactly. You wouldn’t, because I would never ask you to. But you’re giving it up for him.”

She frowned. “Tommy, this is about what’s best for the city. Not the Hood.”

“It’s about him for me, Laurel,” he stated. “I’m not stupid. You’re committed to him in a way you’re just not to me. I don’t know why, or what this lunatic has that keeps you so loyal to him.”

“He’s—”

Tommy held up a hand. “I don’t really care anymore. I can’t keep caring when you’re ignoring what’s best for you to keep him going. I’m done, Laurel.”

“Tommy, please.” She followed him back out to the front room. “I need you.”

“If you needed me, you wouldn’t have gone to him in the first place.”

Tommy shut the door behind him. He squeezed his eyes shut to hold back the stinging and the tears, and he walked forward to the elevator. Laurel’s crying grew quieter in his ears the further he got away, but not his mind.

He paused in the elevator, his eyes on the apartment door. Then his phone buzzed in his pocket with a news alert.

Hood attacks Queen family matriarch at QC

Tommy’s eyes narrowed, and he hit the close door button. The Hood was an enemy to the people he cared about, whether they could see it for themselves or not.

---

John worked frantically to restart Oliver’s heart. He didn’t know what had gone wrong, but the machine kept up its flat, dead tone.

At least until Felicity Smoak fixed the wires. It was with relief that he realized there was actually nothing wrong with Oliver. His friend was just resting and recovering.

He and Felicity talked while they waited for Oliver to wake up. John could tell she was searching for some kind of reason to stay and accept what was happening, what she now knew. He did his best to explain his own rationale for helping a vigilante.

But at an extremely late hour, the door upstairs opened, revealing a miserable sight.

John stood up straight. “Laurel? Something wrong?”

“Um, hi, John.” The woman’s eyes were red-rimmed, and her voice came out quiet and a little hoarse. She must have been crying a while.

But when her eyes widened upon spotting Oliver on the table, it was any guess as to the reason. “Oliver. Is he okay? What happened?”

Laurel rushed down to their friend’s side, her hand reaching to take his where it hung limply at his side.

“He took a bullet. Should be okay with time,” John told her.

“It was his mother,” Felicity added.

Laurel looked up sharply. “Mrs. Queen?”

John nodded. “We got some intel that she might know something about his father’s list. He tried asking her about it as himself, but she wouldn’t answer. So then he gave it a try as the Hood.”

“And Mrs. Queen gave a try at putting the Hood down,” Felicity remarked.

“She must’ve panicked. If she’d had any idea,” Laurel said. John just stayed quiet. He knew Laurel didn’t have quite as large a blind spot for the Queen matriarch as Oliver did, but she had grown up knowing the woman. It would likely take some time for her to adjust to the idea that Moira Queen wasn’t all she pretended to be.

Laurel wiped her eyes on her sleeve and turned to Felicity. “Um, sorry. I’m Laurel.”

“I know. I saw you on the news a few weeks ago,” Felicity said. “I’m Felicity. I work at Queen Consolidated, which apparently includes doing odd jobs for vigilantes.” She considered Laurel for a moment. “So you really have known who he is. I was wondering.”

“Just for the last month,” Laurel said.

“Did you need something when you came down here, Laurel?” John asked.

“Oh. Yeah, I was hoping to have a look through Ollie’s list. But it can wait.” She returned her gaze to the man’s prone form.

It was another hour before Oliver stirred. His eyes opened and his hand clenched around Laurel’s. John watched her bite back a gasp.

“Ollie, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“Laurel?” Oliver’s eyes opened and he looked around at the three of them. His grip eased, and then he was pushing himself up to sitting with one arm.

“Easy there. Try not to aggravate your shoulder,” John advised. “You’ve been out most of the night.”

“What happened?”

“Uh, well, I got you to your secret basement like you asked, John patched you up, I hacked the SCPD database to have them dispose of your DNA sample collected at the crime scene, and then Laurel showed up,” Felicity summarized in one breath.

Oliver turned back to Laurel. “Are you okay?”

She looked ready to laugh in disbelief. “I’m fine. You’re the one with a shoulder wound worse than mine was. How are you going to hide this from your family?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Did you want to see the list now, Laurel?” John asked.

Laurel nodded and stepped back from Oliver’s table. “Yeah, thanks.”

“Why do you need the list?” Oliver asked, frowning as she walked away.

“I wanted to make sure which landlords are on it and which aren’t.” She kept her eyes on the pages she was scanning as she continued, “I’m, um, probably moving to the Glades.”

“What?” Oliver slid off the table and winced as the impact reached his shoulder, but he shook it off. “Laurel, the Glades aren’t safe.”

“Yes, but they’re what I can afford. The only work I’ve found is at a florist’s shop, and if I can walk there instead of using public transit, that’ll save me money, too.”

“That the shop on Wells and 17th?” John asked. He’d noticed the help wanted sign in its window a few times as he’d passed by.

“Uh-huh.”

“Laurel, you’re not a florist,” Oliver said. “You’re a lawyer.”

“Well, there aren’t any law offices that want me. Wish I’d known that before I paid all that money to get the degree,” she remarked. John could see the effort she was going through to keep things light. He still didn’t know what had had her so upset when she arrived. “Okay, so none of the Nickel properties are worth looking into…”

Oliver shook his head. “Those offices will reconsider with time. Look, if you’re that tight for money, I’ll just raise Tommy’s salary so you have more time to look or you can work here with him—”

“Tommy broke up with me,” Laurel stated bluntly, at last looking up from the list. Her mouth pulled down in a terribly sad frown.

Oliver froze. “He left you?”

“He packed his things and walked out tonight.”

“Because of everything that’s happening.” Oliver looked down for a long moment. “I’ll tell him the truth.”

John’s eyes widened, though before he could speak up Laurel was already replying with common sense.

“No, you can’t. He hates the Hood worse than ever, Ollie. There’s no telling how he’d react.” She heaved a sigh. “And it wouldn’t fix the rest of the problems we’ve had. I gave a relationship with Tommy a shot because I was tired of constantly having to turn him down. And I liked it, but — it’s over now. He can’t agree with my choices, and I can’t force him to.”

There was a heavy silence after those words. John noticed Felicity was busying herself by the table with the newer computers she’d set up, and he had a feeling the woman was desperate to be anywhere but here.

“I can still get you a job. Maybe not at the club, but Queen Consolidated. I’m sure we could find something for you,” Oliver offered.

“After the Hood attacked their CEO?”

John looked down. He could see where this was going, and it didn’t lead to any of Laurel’s problems having an easy fix. That was going to be partly on him since he’d been behind the push to send the Hood after Mrs. Queen, and all for no new information, as it was turning out.

“Oliver, if you want people to believe your cover for not being the Hood, for not even liking him, you can’t have anything to do with me.”

Oliver’s face took on a look of alarm as he started towards her. “Laurel—”

She set the list down and took a step back. “Your mother’s just been attacked by a man you’ve been claiming is insane. If I continue believing in the Hood — which I will, since I know you never meant to hurt your own mother — it would be impossible for you to keep being my friend. We can’t have contact, at least not in public.”

Words were failing Oliver. Combined with his shoulder wound, the man looked absolutely broken. He and the rest of them could only watch as Laurel made her way to the stairs.

“I’m sorry. It was nice meeting you,” she added to Felicity. For one moment, she stared at Oliver with eyes that practically ached. Then she looked down and climbed the staircase, the door closing with finality behind her.

“Well,” Felicity said eventually. “I think I’ll be heading home myself. I’ve got an early morning.” She reached for her coat and started for the door.

“Felicity,” Oliver said quietly. The woman paused. “Thank you for everything you did tonight. I understand it was a lot to bring you in on so quickly.”

“Yeah.” She fiddled with her keys. “Not that I’m not grateful you felt you could finally trust me with the truth about all this. But just, no offense, from where I’m standing, being associated with you seems to destroy a person’s life.”

Oliver stayed silent, not even attempting to argue against that assessment.

“So I’m not going to tell the police about you, and I will work with you to find Walter. But that’s it, and after that we’re done.”

Oliver gave a slow nod. “That’s fine.”

“Okay. Well, goodnight. I’m glad you didn’t die.” She, too, headed up the stairs and at of the foundry.

A very heavy, very uncomfortable silence fell once it was just the two of them. John knew it was up to him to try and bridge it. “Oliver, I’m sorry things worked out like this.”

“What is this like, Diggle?” Oliver asked. “A disaster? Because that’s how it seems to me.”

“You couldn’t have known Tommy was going to call things quits. And that relationship needed to run its course without you anyway.”

“But it’s not without me, John.” Oliver’s look was absolutely guilt-stricken. “Tommy was jealous of the Hood. And with him gone, and her and Lance not speaking, and now this, she’s totally on her own. I did that.”

“A lot of that was Laurel’s choices, too,” he pointed out quietly.

“I forced her into them. I should have realized the danger I was putting her in. The risks. Now it’s too late. But I’m not taking them with anyone else.” Oliver pulled on a sweatshirt, then took two steps towards John, getting right into his space.

“My mother — any of my loved ones, are off limits. For good this time.”

He’d known it was coming, and there was little he could say without them coming to blows over it. And without any more information about this Undertaking, he had no real leverage.

Oliver turned and stormed from the base. John sighed, then got to work finishing cleaning up.

To think things had somehow only gotten worse even after Oliver had been shot.

#lauriver #laurel x oliver #laurel lance #oliver queen #arrow #green arrow #black canary #my writing #bird in a storm

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amontaguscapulet · 5 years

Text

To Make A Home

Summary: Molly Turner is the loving daughter of a black smith. Together they only just make ends meet but their situation is on the decline. That is until one night, her father saves a wealthy gentleman, a Mr Sandstone, who just might be willing to help them. Molly might just have to learn to be a Lady.

A/N: Hi!! Here’s the first chapter of the period drama/classic lit story I was talking about! :’D Thank you to the amazing, lovely beta readers @klassikally @max-would-beg-to-differ @move-him-into-the-sun!!!

Chapter 1

It is not unusual for a girl of low birth to dream of one day marrying a gentleman: or rather any man who has found himself by however means, above her station. Miss Molly Turner was no different despite her assurances that she would be happy if not more inclined to marry someone of similar prospects for then she would never feel out of place. Her father, a blacksmith, wouldn’t be expected to pay a large dowry and it would be much easier to make a house a home if it weren’t much grander than the one she grew up in. Besides, she was rather plain and she wouldn’t be made a laughing stock should the opportunity to attend a ball with exemplary guests arises. No, she was perfectly fine as and where she was. She took care of her father, helped him with his work and earned a few coins from generous customers and helped with general house duties. They couldn’t afford a servant and she wouldn’t want one either, unless they could be paid decently. Even so, she found making supper to be calming not much of a chore at all.

“Molly, I ‘ave good news. Very good news..” Her father said one dreary October upon return from the local tavern. Molly was bring water to boil on the fire. He hung up his coat and hat and sat by the fire, rubbing his hands together to bring warmth back into them. “Much better for you though, I ‘ope.” Molly smiled down at him as she brought a cup of warm water from him to drink. Her face screwed up at the smell of alcohol, “Are you drunk?” She put her hands on her hips.

“No, no. It’s part of what I ‘ave to tell you. Good news.”

“Did Mrs Long burn ‘er bread again and has kindly given us some for free with some ale?”

“No, ‘course not. She never burns it twice in one week. I met a gentleman.”

“A gentleman?” Molly frowned sitting opposite her father on the wooden chair. “And why’s that good news? Does he want you to make or mend something for ‘im?” Her father shook his head with the same grin he wore when he beat Mr Gale in the cricket match he swore he could win. “Da’ you didn’t gamble with him did you?” It was certainly something he would do just for the fun of it. These gentleman types were always taking part in it. Of course, her father would never gamble anything away seriously. They had no real assets and he’d never do anything to further exhaust there supplies and worsen their circumstance. Being a blacksmith was respectable, he wouldn’t ruin that reputation. It would have been a bit fun to gamble with a rich man more than anything.

“In a way…” Her father shrugged, stretching his legs out, sipping from his cup. Molly’s eyes widened, ready to scold her father before she remembered her father had said the news he had was good. She shook her head, closing her eyes and sighing.

“Now before yer say anything, I want yer to hear me out and jus’ listen.” She nodded. “This gentleman fella’ came in the tavern, just lookin’ for place to stop and ‘ave a drink, mindin’ his own business for the most part but Mr Porter was there and you know how he gets. Loves to start a fight wiv anyone he fancies. Well, he took notice of this gentleman, Mr Sandstone. Stood out a mile he did. So as you can imagine, Mr Porter didn’t like the look’f ‘im one bit…” Molly wasn’t surprised, it was a regular occurrence to see the man passed out on the street in the morning with a bloodied nose. He would have deserved it too, sticking it where it doesn’t belong.

“…So along he comes, tries to rough the man up. Find out his business an all tha’. Things go’ a bit physical, and Mr Sandstone bein’ a gentleman didn’t fancy ‘imself a fight, all in his fine clothes and all, he didn’t know what t’make of Mr Porter.” Her father must have found the whole ordeal amusing as he was talking so animatedly with a laugh in his voice. “But-,” he held up a finger to her, “I’m not one to stand by and watch so I stepped in, in both senses of the word. I was in between both men just as Mr Porter threw his ale. I was covered in the stuff but after that I sent ‘im on his way.”

“I don’t see how that’s good news…”

“I’m gettin’ to that. Mr Sandstone thanked myself for ridding the drunkard. ‘If that ale had soaked my coat it would have ruined important papers’ he said to me. Turns out, those papers were very valuable. Would’ve cost him a lotta money, more than I’ll make in a lifetime I wager ‘cause he couldn’t thank me enough. We got to talking, told him about the smith, and you, and all that and he says he must repay me. I said, I don’t want your money.”

“Da’…” Molly complained. As much as she wouldn’t have liked to have taken money from a wealthy person who probably saw it as charity. If it was offered in return of a good deed, then her father was silly to say no. They got by. They were surviving but a little extra money wouldn’t hurt.

“Now, now. I bargained somefin’ much better.” He looked awfully pleased with himself. “‘I ‘ave a daughter, 15 years old’ , I told him.”

“Da’ you didn’t! I’m not about to marry some-“

“Who said anyfin’ about marriage? The mans not much older than myself.” He shook his head, “No, ‘I ‘ave a daughter’ I said. If you want to repay me, you can find a way to make ‘er a Lady as payment. Teach ‘er to read and write. How to speak all proper, if you can. She’s a clever, ‘ardworking girl, I said. Then maybe her chances out there will improve.”

“I don’t need any of that, I’m happy as I am.” She was happy. Not being able to reading and write was something she’d made peace with but when she would be able to put it into much practice if she could was hard to say. Probably not at all. There’s not much time for those pastimes.

“That may be, but I want what’s best for you. This opportunity doesn’t come to the likes of us often, Moll’. So, he’s paying a visit tomorrow and you be nice. Not all of his standing would do as he is. He seemed like a fine fella’.”

“But-.”

“Do this f’me. I won’t be around forever. I want to know you’re as good as you can be when I do go.”

“I will be, da’.” She implored but her father continued, voice tracing over hers.

“There are plenty o’ folk around who could do wiv’ someone who can read and write for work or otherwise. There will be more opportunities for you and I’ll rest easy in my grave knowin’ that I did what I could to make your life better.”

“I ‘ave a good life. I’m not unhappy and when, in the very distant future, you go, I’ll know ‘ow to take care of myself. That’s if I ‘aven’t been married off by then but that won’t be for a long time if I can help it. I have no interest in that.” She said, poking the fire to bring the flames back up to roaring.

“Yet.” Her father, chuckled. “I hope it won’t be for a long time either.” He took her hand and squeezed it gently. “And then it’ll be to a nice lad. I’ll make sure of that.” Molly shook her head with a grin.

“You still shouldn’t have asked this of that gentleman. I’ll be shocked if he even comes here tomorrow.” He was probably on his way out of town as soon as they had parted ways. You can’t pay up if you can’t be found.

“Oh ‘e’ll turn up. You’re too ‘arsh on them upper folk. They’re not all so bad and me can’t judge everyone the same way.”

“Well, I’ve yet to meet one that can be fully trusted. Like that Adelaide girl. She pushed me once.”

“Tha’ was when you were six.”

“She passed me in town the other day too, looked me up and down and made a comment about ‘ow she’s ‘so glad she’s a lady. Rags just wouldn’t suit me at all.’” Molly mimicked Adalaide’s voice, the girl’s high pitched voice exaggerated in poise. “And if that’s how she is now, she’s gonna be so much worse when she’s married off to some pompous peacock.” Her nose scrunched up at the thought. At least she didn’t have to attend balls that would be heaving with the likes of them. Adalaide, her family were invited to all the dances, gatherings and events. Molly would be lying if she said she’d never envied Adalaide when they were younger. She wanted to wear fine gowns and ride in fancy carriages. Until she thought of all the haughty people who would fill the halls and she’d be glad it was just her and her father at home sharing what they could scrape together for dinner. Fine dining be damned.

“And Mr Sandstone is hardly a young lady now.”

“No, he comes with a lot more trouble. At least all Adalaide has to throw in our faces are the new ribbons she’s bought.” Molly mumbled. She acting like a child and she knew it. At least that she could admit it. Adalaide acted as a child but thought herself a grown woman. That was much much worse. The thought of being taught by some gentleman to be just like them was a sour prospect.

“Speaking of, I want you in yer best clothes tomorrow when Mr Sandstone comes. Show you’ve got it in yer to learn from ‘im.” The embers in her fathers eyes proved just how much he wanted this for her and Molly didn’t have the heart to fight it any more. “I know you ‘ave it in you. I’m ain’t askin’ you to run off into the lions den but just wise up abou’ it all. Then you can do wiv’ it what you want.”

She didn’t like it one bit. It wasn’t so much poking the hornets nest as it was becoming the hornet herself. Her father only wanted what was best for her and if he believed this was it, then fine. She’d have to at least try. Maybe if she only viewed it as a challenge then it wouldn’t feel like she was betraying the mind she had made up about the rich and their silly excuse for pageantry.

“Alrigh’. But don’t expect him to think it’s my best clothes. It’ll all look like tattered cloth to him.” She rose from her seat, “I suppose I should wash in the mornin’ as well.”

“Right you are.” Her father replied with a chuckle then sipping once more from his water.

“Well then, I shall bid you goodnight.” Molly mocked the speech of a lady and curtseyed, earning a fond shake of her father’s head.

“Off with you.” He waved to the door. She kissed his cheek before making her way to bed. Who knows, it could be fun; a source of entertainment and a break away from the routine of day to day work. She won’t be making any promises until she’d met Mr Sandstone.

#writing #my writing #period drama #writer #author #fan fic #history #historical fiction #fiction #novel #series #new series

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starwarsfan249 · 6 years

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Day 3: RAIN

A/N: I’m sorry. You’ll know why.

Gray’s face lit up at the glorious vision in front of him. Erza was in a beautiful white wedding dress, smiling at him. The dress looked like freshly fallen snow that hugged her curves and flared out at the bottom. Her veil covered her face in a thin layer of lace, barely hiding the blushing bride expression of bliss and happiness that graced her. Her hands wrapped in milky silk clutched her bouquet of scarlet roses and sapphire irises tighter out of nervousness. A few strands of fiery hair slipped out of her braid framing her face. Her brown eyes flitted shyly around, completely out of character for the ‘Great Titania’. Never mind a bride, she looked like an angel. He expected snowy white wings to sprout from her back at any second and that she would fly away into the cloudy sky. He nearly blushed at the sight, he could’ve kissed her right there, but stopped himself, it wouldn't have been acceptable.

He settled for giving her a reassuring smile and a thumbs up, ignoring the small aching in his heart. She smiled back and mouthed a ‘thanks’ before turning her gaze to her husband to be.

He was sharply dressed in an indigo suit with a crimson tie to match the hair of his bride. His blue hair smartly slicked back, revealing shining eyes, one with a red mark over it.

Jellal smiled down at Erza, their eyes met then dashed away shyly, before settling on eachother once again. He took her hand in his, whispering a tender, “I love you.” Then they both looked to Makarov as a sign to start the service.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join these two mages in holy matrimony.” Gray stopped listening after that, it upset him too much to hear the words. He could only watch the proceedings, the exchange of vows, rings, etc. It took everything in him not to break down and cry from the hurt he experienced watching how happy Erza was with someone other than him. The fact, though, is that she was happy, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he ruined that happiness by doing anything stupid because of his emotions, so he tried to block them out.

Despite they persisted. He found himself settling into imagining a different reality where he was brave enough to stand up and object to the marriage. Where he took Erza’s hands in his and looked into her beautiful eyes and told her he loved her. That he had loved her from the beginning.

He imagined that in a miraculous world she would say those words back to him. He would take her into his arms and lean their heads close until…

“I’ve known both of you for a long time, and both of you are good kids. I wish only happiness and love for your journey together through life.” Makarov’s tearful words cut into Grays daydreams. He snapped back to the present where his face was stiff from the smile plastered on it, and his heart still ached from the love that would never be returned.

“There is only one thing left to do. I now pronounce you man and wife.” He finally broke, tears of joy streaming down his face. He barely managed to blubber out a “Youb bay khissd da bribe” before words were lost to him completely.

Jellal and Erza met eyes, wrapping their arms around each other, bringing their faces close, closer, closer.

Gray knew he should look away, but his body wouldn’t move, it’s like some part of him wanted his heart broken.

Their lips met fitting together like they’d belonged with each other from the beginning of time. Hands moved into hair as Erza was dipped back deepening the kiss. They were truly in love and happy, and that knowledge shattered the ice mage’s heart to pieces.

At that moment rain started to pour from the sky, breaking apart the kiss. Gray felt the wetness on his cheeks, but some of the drops were warm compared to others. He wiped away the wetness from his eyes, feeling the warm drops in his hands. It was at that moment he realized he was crying, tears mixing in with the rain. He kept staring at his hands, the world around him fading.

He barely even heard an exasperated Juvia shout, “This wasn’t Juvia, Juvia is happy for you two, and Juvia is also happy that a potential love interest close to Gray-Sama is out of the picture!”

Why was he crying, of course he was sad, but he should be happy. Right? Erza was happy. He’d promised himself to be happy for her. If she loved Jellal, and she did, that should be enough. He should be keeping the tears in, but they kept streaming down his face. He was glad the rain had came, or else Erza would’ve seen his tears.

He dropped his hands willing the tears to disappear as he linked arms with Lucy, who was the maid of honor to his best man, and walked down the aisle. The procession slowly walked out following the newlywed, glowing, Mr. and Mrs. Fernandez.

Gray looked away trying not to watch the happiness and pretend like his heart didn’t hurt terribly.

…

The hours passed by in a blur. The dinner, which Gray was sure was delicious, was put in his mouth emotionlessly. That was paired with dinner conversation, which he was sure was interesting, between the members of the wedding party including himself, Natsu, Lucy, Juvia, Wendy, Midnight, Laxus, Kagura, Millianna and others. That was followed by cutting the cake, strawberry of course, which he again was sure was delicious, but he didn’t taste anything except bitter shame as he chewed and swallowed.

Those events had finally brought him to the end of the night, the dancing. The tears had thankfully stopped flowing when they’d went under the tent for the reception, but the rain hadn’t. He could still hear it pattering on the tent roof, and if he squinted outside he could see the streaks against the darkness. He thought that it was almost like the rain could feel his emotions.

He mulled over these and other thoughts as music blasted around him. This part of the night had consisted of avoiding Juvia and turning down other woman who tried to dance with him. Now he was actively looking away from the dance floor since Jellal and Erza were dancing. Again. He just couldn’t look at the two of them together.

Lucy had noticed this a while ago, and instead of asking him what was wrong had gave him a knowing look and a hug. She was the only one that had known about his crush on Erza. Lucy was the only one he could trust that he knew wouldn’t make fun of him and be there for him as a friend. The celestial mage had made sure to try and cheer him up all night, and it had worked a little, but he had shooed her off a while ago telling her to go dance with Natsu.

He was ready for the night to be over so he could go and try to sort out his feelings, somehow, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to see the woman on his mind.

She was practically glowing as she stood in front of him, at some point her braid had come undone and was cupping her face gently making her look even more beautiful than before the wedding started. He couldn’t help the blush that creeped onto his face, turning away quickly to hide it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” she joked, “but it almost seems like you’ve been avoiding me.”

“Sorry about that, I was trying to hide from Juvia and my other various fangirls.”

“That’s okay, I found you now. Would you do me the honor of a dance? I’ve danced with everyone else, even Wendy and Laxus. It’s your turn now.”

Gray glanced around looking to see if Jellal was nearby, he wasn’t, so Gray made the choice he knew would hurt him even more. “Of course.” He smiled taking her hand and leading her to the dancefloor.

He placed his hands tentatively on her waist and she placed hers on his shoulders moving side to side while the song morphed into a slow one. They said nothing for a while until Erza spoke up, “Speaking of Juvia, are you ever going to confess to her?”

He nearly choked, sputtering stupidly, “Uh, um, I.” A blush coated his cheeks, he wanted to say that he loved her not Juvia, but he bit back the words. “I don’t love Juvia. There’s someone else I like, no I love, but there’s no way we could ever be together and she doesn’t love me back.”

“Who is it?” Erza went into matchmaker mode (learned from spending too much time around Mirajane of course) as they spun around amongst the other couples. “Lucy? Mirajane? Levy? Meredy? Kagura? Oh I know-”

He quickly cut her off before her guesses could get to far out, “It’s none of them, trust me, you would never guess who it is.”

“Secret crush aside aside shouldn’t you give Juvia a chance? She really does love and care about you. You said it yourself that you could never be with this other person, you should move on.”

He sighed as he spun her, “I wish it was that easy, I love her so much it hurts to see her happy with someone other than me at her side.”

Erza stopped the spinning and looked him straight in the eyes. “Listen Gray, you’ve always been there for me ever since you saw me crying by the river. You stood by me and protected me on countless missions before and after the formation of Team Natsu. In the Tower of Heaven I heard from Happy how you fought off that owl to get to me. After the Nirvana incident Natsu told me how you fought to stop Racer and I saw you prevent Lyon from maiming me, for which I am eternally grateful. We talked and laughed during the Grand Magic Games. You challenged me into doing the right thing and helping the villagers on Galuna Island. You carried me after I was injured. I love you. My first friend in Fairy Tail and the friend I will carry in my heart until the end. I want you to do what you believe will ensure you happiness. No matter who it is,” she cupped his cheek, “I want you to tell them you love them right now. You’ll feel much better, and if they reject you I’ll be here with a bucket of strawberry ice cream.”

Gray almost laughed at the situation. Here the girl he loved was telling him to express his feelings. If Erza knew it was her, she would be singing a different tune. He really didn’t want to confess, but it was better than living with this secret in his crumbling, fading, breaking, cruelly and twistedly in love heart.

He swung them back into the dance. “I did protect you all those times Erza, and I always thought it was because I cared about you as a friend. At the Tower of Heaven I remembered the feelings of loneliness when I first saw you by the river and my heart broke, I couldn’t let you ever be alone again. During the Nirvana incident I kept picturing you getting maimed or dying right before my eyes and there was nothing I feared more, I had to do everything so that you could live. I loved easing the pressure and expectations of winning while talking with during the games, and when I thought I was going to lose, I imagined how you’d probably already won and knew I couldn’t let you one-up me like that. On Galuna Island I knew your heart was crying out to help the people and that you just needed a push. I carried you because I couldn’t let you lie on the ground and I didn’t want anyone else to be close to you for all that time.” He could barely get the words out at this point, if he said them, everything would change. He couldn’t turn back now, but his mind urged him to. It urged him to abort.

He finally took a deep breath spinning Erza into a dip. “You asked me who I loved. It’s.. it’s. It’s you. I love you.” He watched her face turn shocked as he pulled her up out of the dip. “I loved you since the river bank, but I never felt I could tell you. Sorry that the time I worked up my courage had to be the worst time anyone could ever confess. All day I’ve been avoiding you because it hurts so much to see you happy with Jellal. I…”

He shifted to take her hands in his, a single tear falling down his face and onto them. “I’m sorry that I ruined your wedding with this. I guess I also ruined our friendship too, huh? Well I’m glad you at least get to know the truth. I’ll get out now, don’t worry about seeing me ever again. I know it would be too awkward, so I’ll stay out of your life.” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek, barely there, a ghost of a love that could’ve been. He dropped her hands giving her one last lopsided smile. “Goodbye Erza. Thanks for everything. I’m sorry that I ever knew you and that it came to this, but I would repeat it all again, because I really, truly, heartbreakingly love you.” With that he walked away, leaving behind the shocked bride.

“Wow, I am a jerk, aren’t I, “ he whispered to no one in particular. He started laughing maniacally, the laughs soon turning into sobs as he ran away. Away from his feelings, away from Lucy and his other friends who called out to him as he ran, away from Jellal, away from the wedding, and away from Erza. His legs kept carrying him along as he passed people on the street giving him weird looks.

Tears streamed down his face, mixing with those from the sky, his sobs adding to the thunderous roars of outrage from the clouds, the spiking of his hurting heart in time with the lightning.

He finally stopped running at a place that looked familiar to him. Wiping his eyes, he realized it was the river, where these cursed feelings had started. He knelt on the ground, screaming at the sky, the Gods, the Fates, whatever higher being had cursed him, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

“Take this hurt away!” Over and over again this shout was heard. A cry of desperation, a shout of anger, a ballad of agony.

Gray shouted until he could no longer, and cried, until that too was taken away from him. He collapsed to the ground exhausted. His eyes drooped no matter how hard he fought.

Before he succumbed to unconsciousness, he managed one last agonizing sentence, “It hurts so much to love the girl with scarlet hair, please take it all away”.

…

It was sad for the boy, that he’d run out so soon, for if he’d stayed even a few moments longer he might’ve heard the words whispered by the girl of his dreams.

“I always loved you too, but I thought I was the only one.” This secret floated out into the air getting caught by the wind and rain, blown away like all the others of secret loves. “That’s why I married Jellal, I loved you more, but at least I knew he would return my love. If only you told me years ago. I gave up on you then, but now..” A gripping pain tugged at her heart causing her to fall to her knees, clutching her chest.

“Take this hurt away,” she whispered over and over again, too low for her friends that had rushed over to hear.

She collapsed to the ground consciousness leaving her. She managed to choke out one last sentence. A sentence of love, of could-have-beens, of heartbreak, a sentence connected to the boy she loved. “It hurts so much to love the boy made of ice, please take it all away,” and with that everything was black.

#grayzaweek2018 #Grayza #gray x erza #angst #i'm sorry #slightjerza #grayza forever #i never should've written this

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