#german shepherd puppy death

[calder]

In every mainline Fallout game except for New Vegas, players can earn the loyalty of a dog known as “Dogmeat.” As part of the main quest of Fallout 4, Dogmeat assists in tracking down the antagonist, even if the player has never encountered him before. When you leave Kellogg’s home, Nick simply starts talking about Dogmeat as if he’s a known quantity.

Perhaps related to this quirk of the world, Dogmeat is first named in this game when the clairvoyant Mama Murphy recognizes him and addresses him by name. The game’s UI calls him “DOG” until he is recognized by Valentine or Murphy. It seems clear that this german shepherd is somehow an independent agent with a good reputation, or something.

Dogmeat does not have a loyalty quest associated with him, which is how the player would earn the other companions’ perks. However, upon finding Astoundingly Awesome Tales #9 within the Institute, Dogmeat becomes more resistant to damage. While this isn’t coherent or conclusive evidence of Dogmeat being a synth, it’s plainly prompting the audience to consider that idea. In light of these factors, his origins have been fiercely debated among the community.

The skeptics and “hard sci-fi” fans out there would have you believe that he’s merely a famous stray dog who solves crimes. But I believe there's something more remarkable at work.

There's a section in the Fallout 2 instruction book called the Vault Dweller's Memoirs, where the player character of the first game recounts what canonically happened. Due to Fallout’s famously terrible companion AI, if you travelled to Mariposa with Dogmeat, he would consistently run into the force fields and get vaporized. So, in the Memoirs, we learn that this is exactly what became of Dogmeat Prime, in canon. He loyally sprinted into a wall of solid light, and disappeared. What if our buddy simply awoke in a new, confusing place?

In Fallout 2, Dogmeat must be found at the Cafe of Broken Dreams, which is explicitly a liminal space. It appears randomly to travellers in the desert. The NPCs within are frozen in time, such as a young version of President Tandi, who mentions that Ian went to “the Abbey,” an area cut from the game. To gain Dogmeat’s trust, the Chosen One must equip the Vault Dweller’s V-13 jumpsuit, which Dogmeat recognizes as belonging to his dead master. You can also attack him to spawn Mad Max, who claims ownership of the dog. Max fits the description of Dogmeat's original owner given in Fallout.

There’s also the “puppies” perk in Fallout 3, which enables you to restore Dogmeat, in the event of his death. “Dogmeat’s puppy” inherits his base and ref ids. In other words, they ARE the same NPC, just renamed. So, the way this actually articulates is that whenever Dogmeat dies in combat, you can find him waiting for you back at Vault 101. In practice, it’s almost Bombadilian.

Lastly, please consider the following developer context.

In June of 2021, the dog who performed Dogmeat’s motion capture and voice for Fallout 4 passed away. A statue of her was placed outside of every Vault in the China-exclusive sequel to Fallout Shelter. She still watches over each player.

River's owner, developer Joel Burgess, honored her in a brief thread about her involvement in the game, and shared much about his thought process and design goals while leading the character’s development. The Dogmeat project changed course early on, after Mr. Joel saw a new member of the art team gathering references of snarling German Shepherds. This motivated him to bring River into the studio, so the artists and developers could spend time with her.

He wanted to steer the team away from viewing Dogmeat as a weapon, and towards viewing him as a friend. Everything special about Dogmeat was inspired by River. For example, whenever you travel with Dogmeat, he’s constantly running ahead of you to scout for danger, then turning to wait for you. This was inspired by River’s consistent behavior on long walks. The only way they were able to motivate River to bark for recordings was by separating her from Joel while he waited in the next room. Reading the thread, it’s very clear that he hoped Dogmeat would make players feel safe, encouraging them to explore, and to wonder. In his closing thoughts, he said the following:

-Joel Burgess

Mr. Joel felt it was important to express that the ambiguity of Dogmeat’s origin in Fallout 4 was deliberately built into his presentation. He also felt it was important that you know Dogmeat loves you. Dogmeat was designed, on every level, to reflect the audience’s inspirations, and to empower their curiosity.

The true lore of Dogmeat is a rorschach test. The only “right” answer is to pursue whatever captures your imagination.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Crimson Fangs Sing Me Lullabies

PAIRING: David 'Hesh' Walker x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Ten years is a long time to be alone.

WORD COUNT: 18.7k

WARNINGS: Angst, gore, canon typical violence, stitches & needles, death, fluff, puppy love type stuff, mutual pining, Hesh being adorable, Ghosts timeline

A/N: Back to my roots with 30+ page works.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He vividly remembered the moment Riley had alerted him on that rainy Tuesday afternoon. It was when the sky was pelting against his soaked beanie and the abandoned houses of South California were utterly silent—as still as the heart in his breast. The ground under his feet was soft, grass giving way to slopping mud that caked up to his ankles in thick mounds of flooded earth.  

Hesh had only been out for a swift survey of the area, taking Riley for backup as Logan stayed at camp to pack and hide any trace of two individuals from inside Fort Santa Monica snooping around. Seeing as Federation Soldiers frequented the area, any piece of them that was left in No Man’s Land was subject to identification. Nothing from a broken branch or a boot track could be out of order; certainly not when the two brothers were here to scout possible weak points in enemy territory. Try and find ways to slip in a fire team—give ‘em all a good scare and wipe another point off the map. 

But Riley was along because not only was he Hesh’s responsibility, but the German Shepherd’s instincts were far superior than a soldier’s ever could be. For only 14 months, the dog was making quite the name for himself around the Fort.

A chilled wind whips down the street, the overgrown road filled with rusting cars and trash which flutters in retaliation of being disturbed all across the asphalt. Rain comes down sideways in great roars. Whatever the dog had honed in on, it was loud enough to be heard over the noise of nature.

“Riley,” Hesh calls, calm and collected, to the animal that was intently staring at a large home; hackles tense and tail pointed high. Blue was the color, hiding peeling white trim behind suffocating ivy. A large portion of the left side was ripped away to show its insides like a dead deer would, which had most likely happened when the earthquakes had been rampant during the first few years after ODIN was fired. Tectonic plates shifting and the like. Green eyes narrow. “Go on boy, search.”  

If there were Federation Soldiers this close to camp then it needed to be taken care of—quickly and quietly. No time to get Logan. 

Sharp ears perk and the lithe dog shifts its haunches, raised neck fur accented by a low growl. Paws pad over the ground and twin footfalls follow swiftly after, the body of a Honey Badger Assault Rifle pointed down but ready to aim at a moment's notice.

But nothing could have prepared Hesh for what he found that day. 

—

You press to the oozing wound with a futile hope that it would stop gushing, breathing so loud it can be heard over the deluge outside this shitty excuse of a shelter. Your arm was splattering blood all over the damaged hardwood of the first house you could stumble into, feet flinching back until your spine hits a dresser in the upstairs bedroom. 

Dust lives on every surface; flies through the air as you string curses under your breath with stuttering sobs. You’d hoped that there was a medical kit stashed away here somewhere—something to scavenge that could fix the knife slice that was making you dizzy. 

T…there was just too much blood.

But after the loud slamming of cupboards and the destruction of more than a few rusty door hinges, it hit you like a bullet to the chest as your clothes stuck to you like a second skin. Everything had been picked over. 

No medicine in the bathrooms, no rags in the kitchen, and no hope of bottled water to clean the wound out. Nothing. 

“No, no, no.” You force the black dots away from your eyes, vision blurry with tears as you press harder to the gash. It squelches and more scarlet hits the floor. “It can’t end like this. Not like this.” 

All that you had were the clothes on your back and the sparse materials in your backpack that amounted to an empty water skin, a blanket, and the pages of an old book. 

Blood pooled on the ground, and you realized far later that the only reason you had heard the noise downstairs was because of the steadying way you had bitten your lip; a sob cut short. Your body stilled like you were caught in a bear trap. 

It had been a soft whistle, barely heard over the sheets of rain hitting the broken roof. Water lightly taps your head in an uneven pattern as it leaks through the frame like an ant tunnel. Blinking as a few more tears are forced down your cheeks, you slowly turn to the door that hangs off one hinge. 

Small brown eyes are already locked onto you.

Its pupils are so tiny you wondered if the German Shepherd was half snake—they seemed almost slitted as you gaped at its presence. The army green vest that was wrapped around its frame only served to make you more afraid. 

Dogs were not your friends. Not in this day and age. Certainly not the ones that belonged to the soldiers that had cut your arm open not an hour earlier in the woods. That’s what they did, then? They sicked a dog on you? 

You swallow down a gulp and stand paralyzed as the beast’s lips curled back; its tail puffing up and wagging with aggression. Your breast filled with the constant drumming of a panicking heart.

“G—” voice small, weak, you try to appease the thing with a forced smile as your brows bunch in. This demon doesn’t even blink. “Good doggy.”

You stumble backward only a single shaky step, and then it lunges. 

The dog runs at you with a gnashing of teeth and a shredding snarl on its lapping tongue. Sharp barks meet your ear-piercing scream as they echo off the termite-eaten walls. Rushing back, you feel saliva splatter against your face; a sharp snapping flash just inches from your nose. Your back slams into the far wall with a resounding crash.

“Riley!” A masculine voice yells out, followed by feet rushing up the creaking stairs, but you don’t even hear it before fuzzy neck fur is gripped in your hands. Paws dig into your stomach. Worse, fangs graze your neck as ears stay stapled to an angular head; bobbing back and forth with intent to rip your flesh out. 

You could smell its damn breath.

Straining, every bit of adrenaline-laced strength builds as a split-second to act takes form. You plant your shaking legs and shove with your shoulders—racing away before the loud thump of the Shepherd’s form hitting the floor is registered. Its vibrating growl of hatred echoes off your brain along with its skidding claws. You stagger quickly into the bathroom and slam the thin wood with a loud yell of fear, finding the rusted lock before flicking it with a floundering grip.

The barrier shakes not a second later with the force of a vehicle as you balk back from it with a horrible fear in your breast.

What would it feel like to be mauled to death? You swallow through a closed throat, seeing the door almost cave with the force behind thrown at it; eyes wide and snapping to the tiny box you’d caged yourself into. Oh, fuck me.

“Riley!” Again that voice, closer. There’s a pause in the attack, but the deep barking continues. Eyes flinching, you shake wildly and notice the under-sink cupboard not a moment later with a prey-like haze over your thoughts. “Easy, boy, easy!”

Stumbling, you whip open the small enclosed area and do what you can to shove yourself into it—legs pressed tight to your chest and grunts falling from your lips as you try and maneuver past pipes. Your arm feels like there are a million knives stabbing one after the other, but you don’t for one second dare to stop what you’re doing. Letting the tiny door shut with a bounce of wood, you get totally swallowed by darkness. 

You realize quickly that the barking has entirely stopped. 

“Shit,” hand going to capture your mouth, your fingers press tightly to hide even the sounds of your ragged breathing, dealing with both the hunched-over nature of your spine and the knowledge of someone outside the door. 

Someone who was probably going to kill you. 

Silence lingers, but before long there’s a commotion of a hand that begins to jimmy the door knob. Your ears twitch, blood draining little by little from your head. 

Don’t open the door. Please, don’t open the door. 

The door is shoved open with a shoulder, a brief grunt echoing off the air as the thing slams to the wall. Soon after, the clatter tells you that it falls off of its rusty hinges along with the muffled curse of annoyance.

Measured footsteps make you stare, wide-eyed, at the tiny crack in the side of the wood ahead of you, light from outside dim but enough for you to notice shadows as they slink past. A sigh.

“Clear.” Weight shifts, and you hear a defining click of a safety. You press on your mouth harder. “What was all the ruckus about, boy? Another raccoon give you the slip?” 

Claws pad over broken tile and you hear a nose twitching as distinctly as you can hear your own pulse in your ears. This man that was talking….he didn’t sound like the normal soldiers you’d encountered. There wasn’t an accent to his American English, in fact, he sounded native to the region. Deep of voice and lax in phonics. 

But you had more pressing matters than a man’s speech pattern. A bark rips through the bathroom, and you hear a soft chuckle as your body spasms. 

“It’s not going to be in the cupboard. C’mon, Bud, we need to get back to Logan. Time’s ticking.” More snarling barks, getting higher in octave. The door rattles as you choke back screams as dog feet scratch with aggression, making the barrier bounce with every punch. “Hey, Riley! Enough!” 

A bulky shadow snatches a limb out, grabbing the handle on the back of the dog’s vest, but it’s a bit too late for that. White fangs capture the jutting edge of the frame and rip it off its holding with a raging of metal and splintered wood. You yell between your fingers and try to force yourself away—to try and disappear into a shattered bit of drywall that groaned as you put weight on it. 

Feet kicking out, the dripping wound on your arm makes you wrench the other hand to grip at it, a vain attempt to protect your weak area at the moment. It burns like you’ve just flayed the skin from your bone, peeling the flesh like a person would do to a raw steak. 

And then the dog is reeled back with a sharp yell, “Riley, stand down!”

At once all barking and drool-dripping snarls come to a halt. Panting, you look out to the half-body of the man and into the dead eyes of Riley—a beast that glares at you despite not being able to as his front legs are held off the ground by his vest similar to a kangaroo. It is like staring into the color of dead earth and waiting for it to swallow you whole. 

You wonder if you can die with a still pounding pulse, or if your soul can dip into the very confines of your intestines until you bleed it out. With black dots at the sides of your vision, as Riley is lowered to the ground and left to stand still, you decide that, yes, that could very well happen. 

There’s a large exhalation of air from the top, not-visible, image of the man and although you don’t want to look away from the small-eyed dog, eyes drift slowly to stare. 

Large toned thighs covered in green and brown camo tucked into muddy boots; straps and holsters that drip water with the subtle shifting of hips. Yet it’s almost immediately that those legs bend as a broad chest comes into view followed by a pale, square face. 

You blink quickly, dispelling tears from your lashes mixing with rainwater as it flows down from your forehead when green eyes meet yours—wide and strangely…curious? Brunette hair is trapped by a beanie, and the beginning of stubble spread out down his cheeks, jaw, and chin. Gray sweatshirt, combat vest, patches…your eyes struggle to take it all in but ultimately the large rifle sitting against his chest paints a clear enough picture, even if this man was completely different from the other soldiers you’d encountered out here. 

Shaking, you curl in tighter and hunch your shoulders, hiding away your arm.

Hesh doesn’t know what to think. 

He looks you over with a blatant expression of shock, Riley still on high alert beside him as one of his knees connects with the cracked floor. Lips slightly parting, the man’s head slightly pulls back, trying to understand what the hell he’s looking at. 

A… civilian? This far out in No Man’s Land? How was that even possible—Federation control was practically assured in this area and they shot on sight. Clearing his throat, Hesh sees your water-wet body jerk back, impulsive fear stuck over your head. He quickly raises his hands, dropping his rifle to let it hang from its strap with a clenching jaw as Riley huffs.

“It’s alright, Ma’am.” He coughs awkwardly, watching you incredibly closely. Still not sure how to handle this. “Erm…” A glance is sent to the far wall, “My name is Lieutenant David Walker with the United States Special Forces, you’re going to have to tell me what you’re doing out here. It’s not safe.” 

Firm, yet you notice the words are also subdued as the tension in the air somewhat lessons—like a mother scolding a child that she doesn’t want to start bawling. Your eyes waft away from him back to Riley, though the knowledge that the man was in the Special Forces was startling. You had thought everyone else was dead, most of all the remnants of the military. 

When did this happen? 

Riley still stands as still as anything, watching with his lips curling every so often. Hesh notices your terrified gaze and commands the dog with an easy comment, “Hey, Riley, away Bud.”

The beast pads off with one last long stare, back into the bedroom where you hear the thud of a fuzzy backside hitting the floor and a canid grunt. Immediately a great sigh exits your mouth, crumpled lungs wheezing. The man’s Adam’s Apple bobs as he lowers his arms, lips peeling into a languid frown when his head tilts.

“Sorry about him,” Hesh says, and your shy gaze stops on his neck. Green eyes narrow on you. “Riley’s trained to flush out Feds—not that good at rolling out the welcome committee. ‘Specially out here. He means well.” 

Your lips stay shut, shifting the bloody mess of your arm closer to you. If he was going to kill you, you think, he would have done it already. 

This Lieutenant David Walker wasn’t wearing the dark coloring of the other soldiers in the forest or the towns—wasn’t wearing the patch of twelve yellow stars set into the black void of a rhombus outlined with red. 

He wasn’t part of the group hunting you down. 

Hesh sighs deeply, sparing more glances around the broken-down house and the beautiful woman hiding away in the bathroom cabinet. Even with all of his burning questions, it wasn’t safe to be here. Logan was expecting him back. 

Itching at the back of his neck, the large man mutters, “Well, I guess you’re just going to have to come with us then.” Hesh wasn’t about to leave you here alone. 

Civilians were meant to be behind the Wall, and however you managed to end up outside, he needed to get you back not only for his own consciousness but because you looked like you needed a good meal and a warm bed. 

How long has this girl been out here? He asks himself internally. 

A gloved hand slowly extends out to you and you level on it with a stiff twitch of your feet, eyes glinting.

“Got yourself pretty much folded in half in there, Ma’am.” Hesh chuckles, trying to put you at ease as you just watch like a deer in headlights. “Can’t be too comfortable, huh? How about I bring you back to camp and I can sift ‘round in my packs—see if I can’t find something for you to eat, yeah?” 

It was like coaxing a wild animal from a cage. A chained fox ready to bite its own leg off for the simple release of freedom that it would bring soon after. Hesh couldn’t blame you, Riley usually had that effect on people. 

The dog wasn’t trained to be a pet, after all. 

At the prospect of food, your ears perked. If this person had food, they had to have bandages as well—medical supplies. You glance quickly down at your arm, seeing how the blood had drenched your abdomen from where it flooded out into the lines of textile and thin your lips. It didn’t look good; if it was left untreated…

Green eyes flutter to stare at where you had briefly peeked at. 

“Shit,” Hesh starts, sucking down a breath. His fingers curl from where they still wait for your hand in his. Looking at you as your heart skips a beat from the concerned comment and the unwavering way he stares. “Riley didn’t get you, did he? Let me take a look.”

David moves closer, head partially going under the counter to carefully touch you on the shoulder, shifting your arm from the top. If it was a simpler time, you would have laughed at the sight of such a built and tall man trying to stick his upper half into such a confined place. 

His fingers dig into your flesh and with a hesitant line on your forehead, you slightly present your cut as he sends you a tiny smile in reassurance. 

He…doesn’t look malicious. Maybe I can… 

You blink away black dots and shiver as fingers close around your wrist. Holding back a gasp, Hesh’s eyes widened at the gushing slice; immediately clocking it as a wound from a large and serrated knife. 

Federation? Many of the others from the recon units come back with similar wounds courtesy of the certain blades that the Feds used. 

Digits go to dig around in his medical pouch as your eyes flutter, seeing the heavy frown on David’s face and the lines on his forehead. Ears twitching at the sound of shifting paws, your body quivers. Green quickly glances up as your hand clenches; making more blood fall out to the wood. 

“He won’t do anything,” Hesh assures you, “not without my order. You just need to focus on me, alright? I’m going to wrap this up to help stop the bleeding.” A roll of bandages escapes his pack, and he gets to work tying off a tourniquet above your elbow. “Can you tell me your name, Doll?” 

Your nerves are alight from the rough scape of his gloves along your skin, but you whisper out your title with a stuttering voice. More hushed than a breeze on a humid summer’s day. Speaking after all that screaming hurt your vocal cords. It confuses you that you aren't more afraid of this man—the hard yet sparking eyes.

Hesh sends a quick glance and smiles. 

“Well, we’ll have you all fixed up soon. Promise.” He decided fairly promptly that it would be counter-intuitive to ask you so many questions in No Man’s Land; he’d wait for all of them to be back in the Fort and his father’s opinion. 

Elias Walker was sure to be intrigued by this.

Flinching when David carefully pours water on the wound to clean it out, more wrappings come after to press the torn edges of the injury close together, white rapidly becoming red. But the bleeding would stop soon, as the tight bite of the tourniquet cuts off the flow and leaves your arm completely numb. 

Hesh licks his lips and releases your hand, moving back to rest on the ends of his feet to let his limbs hang off his knees. Looking you over one last time, the man wonders if you were a scavenger. A drifter, maybe? There was a score around the Wall, but they all got caught eventually. 

But none of them were this far out, this afraid.

“C’mon,” David stands, one hand resting atop the counter and the other still extended into the cabinet for you. “We need to get going so we can make it back before dark. Or until the storm gets worse. I’d hate to catch a cold.” 

You stare and push down your fear, injured hand held to you as the other slowly drifts forward. Hesitating over his expectant palm you bite your lip before letting his grip encompass yours. Firmly, fingers tighten over your skin and you shiver at the prospect of touch. 

As gently as he’s able, Hesh helps you out from your hidey-hole, stabilizing you with a hand to the small of your back as you pop to full height. 

“Easy,” he murmurs, watching you stumble as he holds tight. The dog stands from the bedroom, ears erect, but the Lieutenant doesn’t even look. “Riley, stay.” 

Your eyes purposefully never stray to the canine. 

The grip over yours squeezes before it’s gone, and a part of you blinks at the sudden sweep of coldness that returns to you. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, sliding your vision to the still form at your side as the house creaks and groans; rain followed by a deep rumble of far-off thunder. Hesh’s lips pull up, huffing out a single, dismissive, chuckle yet his heart jumps with pride.

“Don’t worry about it.” The man’s limbs rest on his weapon, loose. “Least I could do for lettin’ Riley scare you like that.” A beanie tilts as his rugged head nods to the doorway. “Follow me, Ma’am.” 

You stare at the back of his head as he slips past you, walking past the broken door. Blinking after, you stuff your hands into your pockets and quickly catch up with a few strides; feeling light-headed from the leaving adrenaline in your blood. Not fully convinced you trusted him, David had the one beneficial factor of being in the American military that made you go along. 

Why would someone impersonate them? It didn’t make sense, and thus, he had to be telling the truth. 

But you really didn’t like being near Riley. 

Tail still stiff, the dog stays on David’s right while you keep to the left, if not slightly behind. Brown eyes glare and rage, and you hunch your shoulders in mute retaliation, fixing the position of your backpack after it was smashed between the wall and your body. 

“So,” Hesh tries to break the tension, carefully going back down the stairs and looking back. You perk. “How long have you been out here, if you don’t mind me asking? Don’t get many civvies in No Man’s Land.” 

His boots thump while your shoes lightly press, descending back to flat ground. 

“I…” You lick your lips, “I don’t know.” Brows peeling back, Riley exits the house first, Hesh pausing for a millisecond before humming leisurely and going after—not without a narrowed look of confusion directed at you first. 

“Alright.” He coincides. Maybe you were just in shock. “No worries.”

No Man’s Land? Silently, you dig into the back of David’s head when he leaves the shelter of the house, getting soaked by rain as nitrogen fills your nostrils. What’s that? 

Feet traveling out through rubble, you side-step wood and drywall, breathing in the outside air as you soon feel the water wet down your head and clothes once more, shivering at the constant slap to your scalp and cheeks. 

Shuffling after David, you see him call above the storm with one hand to his chest, speaking into a radio.

“Logan, I’m coming to you! I’ve got an injured Civvy with me—knife wound. It’ll need stitches.” There’s a murmur from the other end, but you hear none of it above the rain; Riley peels out ahead, taking point with a constant pattern that leaves the dog coming back after a moment or two into a heel position. “Affirm. Hold down the camp until I get back. We’ll need to move ASAP.”

Digging into the collar of your shirt, you stay in Hesh’s footprints, shoes getting even more mud-cased all along the old material as you all turn into the treeline, forsaking the dead neighborhood to go back to its rotting. 

You only send one glance behind before it’s swallowed by bushes and downed logs.

The cover of the branches offers some reprieve from the downpour, but only to a point where you still were left floundering over the rugged terrain while David walked it like a pro. 

Hesh was constantly looking over his shoulder at you—slowing his pace when you got too far behind him and Riley. At your almost frigid shivers, his lungs built in a low sigh. 

“Here,” he says, firmly, and plucks the beanie off his head to wring it out. Water pools to the soggy ground as your legs slow, constantly blinking eyes looking up from the rocks you were currently intent on not tripping over. “Sorry, it’s not much. Logan’s got a spare blanket he can lend you later.” 

Pausing, your fingers inside of your pockets twitch at the outstretched article, lashes fluttering as a raindrop bounces off your nose. Cleaning your throat when Hesh prompts you with a small, “Go on,” and a motion of his hand, you take the offering slowly. 

Slipping it on, you pull the thing far over your ears, hating how your hair feels under it but not willing to take it off once the pounding on your skull ceases. 

“Better?” David asks, tilting his head as his short brunette locks get weighed down to his forehead. 

You nod wordlessly, attempting a small flinching smile in gratitude. Hesh delays his turning feet for a moment, seeing that with a barely-there flush to his pale cheeks. Clearing his throat once more, the Lieutenant clicks his tongue for Riley to continue, and offers you a hand over the rocks. 

Up and over, he helps you all along the way, suddenly not caring about how long it might take to get back to camp.

Walking beside you, you take glances at David, wondering aloud, “Who’s Logan?” 

He smiles, green roving over the terrain and now on even higher alert now that there’s someone else with him for the trip back. Riley sniffs along the badly flattened trail, though still takes time to stare back at you with distrust. 

“My brother,” Hesh pushes his hair back, expelling water like a rag, “Riley and I went out to scout territory while he stayed behind. Erm,” the brunette chuckles and another wave of thunder rolls overhead. “Don’t think too much about it if he’s a bit quiet when you meet. Logan doesn’t talk much.” 

“I won’t mind,” you also chuckle, though yours is more forced; subdued. It was easy to speak to Hesh, even if your arm was pulsing and your heart was rampaging.

The Lieutenant sends you an appreciative side-eye, smiling slightly, “Good. I’d hate for you to think he was being—”

Riley halts with a huff. 

Attention shaping forward, David steps in front of you with a quick foot, and your frozen view of the western cluster of trees is blocked by a broad back. 

“Riley’s got something.” He speaks low, deathly serious. “Keep behind me.”

You suck down stiff oxygen, body weary as you peek over to stare at the dog and his vest as it shifts when he moves. The large white lettering of ‘Beware of Dog’ on the side catches your optics like a knife in the dark. 

Hesh takes slow steps ahead, knowing you’re behind him by the way your breath stutters and brushes the back of his neck. His vision bores into the treeline, peeling back bark like the books of a page, his heart a steady bump in his chest. 

Riley continues to alert, paws shimmying and fur caked in mud as his tail begins to go wild. 

David levels his rifle to the shadows dancing, clicking off the safety with a thumb before his cheek finds the stock, staring through the scope with deep-set brows. The man waits for the beast to engage first. 

With the minutes ticking and the rain drowning everyone, you find every swaying branch and twitching leaf to be as anxiety-inducing as a typhoon; still, Hesh stays unperturbed in front of you. About to open your mouth and utter a confused plea to keep going, Riley suddenly rushes.

Pushing headlong into the treeline growls akin to a demon echoing off the atoms of the air when the puffy tail disappears. There’s a moment of strained silence right after where your legs are itching for you to run, but David stays and so that means you will too. He’s really your only chance for survival at this point.

“C’mon boy,” the brunette mutters, hips shifting weight. 

It’s only when pained screams enter the air that the two of you really tense up, a loud, panicked thing that bounces off your eardrums over and over again. You gasp and take a step back, and that’s when two black-armored individuals burst from the bushes, yelling behind them and pivoting to try and shoot an enraged Riley with blood dripping from his maw.

Hesh dispatches them with only four bullets—two for each as their exposed necks explode into crimson. Snapping your gaze away you swallow tersely, blinking as if to dispel the image from your mind. You had seen people die before, in painful and gruesome ways, but that didn’t mean you had ever gotten used to it. Lowering his gun, Hesh tilts his head at the two Federation soldiers, the third taken out by Riley before he drove the others to him. 

“Good, boy!” David praises, oblivious to your plight, and the dog trots over with a lolling tongue, eyes bright. His gloved hand pats Riley’s side a few times, ruffling the fur atop his head as paws tippy-tap before shifting to look back at you. He double-takes, gaze widening with a frozen smile. 

Green blinks at your nervous expression and your body that had backed up a good five feet with your hands stuffed into your pockets. His petting hand pauses and Riley barks. Hesh watches you flinch at the sound and tenses. 

Awkwardly standing up to his full height, his fingers itch at his stubble.

“I…” David pauses, not sure what to say to you. Shaking his head, the man grunts out, “Camp’s this way, Ma’am.” A finger points down the trail and you nod quickly, still not looking anywhere near the bodies or Riley. Or him, for that matter. 

“Okay.” Sharing a look with the dog at his side, he thinks his lips and pauses before he takes off down the grass, concern and apprehension stuck in his veins. Not knowing why, he begins to feel a bit strained.

You stay well behind him all the way back to Logan, thinking and worrying.

I don’t know this man, you tell yourself, arms wrapped around your middle and beanie heavy atop your scalp. Even if he’s nice—even if he says he’s in the military, I don’t know what he could do. I have to remember that. 

And that damn dog. 

You can’t get its eyes off of you—constantly watching and tense as if you’d bolt and he would get the chance to pounce on you. It didn’t trust you and that sentiment was entirely mutual. Pulling your injured arm closer, the image of flashing fangs is playing in your mind as you and David get closer to a dense cropping of stones and deep foliage; now it was worse. Now Riley had congealed blood dripping off his chin, all fur up to his eyes deep red and stained. Rabid looking. 

He was one minute away from ripping my throat out back in that house. 

You shiver, but not from the cold. If not for the kind way Hesh had wrapped your arm and the promise of further help and food, you’re not entirely sure you wouldn’t try to bolt. 

People haven’t exactly been kind to you out here—not for many years.

Your eyes whip away from Riley and stay on David’s boots until the man pushes through one last bush, holding it back for you as you shuffle past with a silent nod of appreciation. The presence of another man immediately makes itself known when you stare into the remnants of a campsite. 

Grass trampled to form a semi-circle, a stuffed backpack rests against a large boulder and, in the middle of the area, sits a small pit for a fire. The dig-out ground is now flooded over by the rain, creating a concoction of mud and brown water. A large overhang stemming from two gigantic rocks gives a small reprieve, though there’s little room for more than two people, and if the rain slants the other way it would end up being completely useless. 

But the figure standing under it is taking what little cover it offers. Shifting with a similar outfit to David and blinking at you with brown eyes. Quickly, he lowers his gun when Hesh calls out, “Woah, Logan—it’s me!”

Blonde hair lays flat over the brother’s head, and you instantly see the resemblance between the two in the same shape of their jaws; the angle of their twin noses. But Logan did seem to be the younger of the two, though not by more than one or two years. 

David saunters forward, hips swaying, and pats you lightly on the shoulder before looking back to send you a soft smile of reassurance. Water flows off his chin. 

“Now, let's get that arm looked at.” He walks under the overhang and bumps forearms with Logan, who continues to watch you carefully. Riley trots up and the blonde rubs his head when David bends down to grab his backpack. 

You awkwardly shuffle, still out in the rain with a cautious feeling in the back of your chest. If you could peel back your skin, you would see an amalgamation of alarm bells strung up by cords of hesitance. Who was to say these men were any different than the black-clothed ones? Could you know their character based on a simple tourniquet and a soggy beanie? 

Brows tight, your shifting feet slosh through a puddle. Did you have a choice? 

Hesh calls over the rain, peeling out a large medical bag from his pack—the white cross capturing your vision. “C’mere! We need to get that stitched up.”

Sighing deeply, you walk until the rock stops the sky’s tears, fingers twitching in your pockets and feeling quite tired. 

“Logan,” the Lieutenant orders and the blonde takes his eyes from you slowly, his stubbled skin sporting a scar up the right side of his jaw. Riley looks up at him when the pets stop. “Give her your spare blanket, would you?” Green flickers to your arm before they go to your face. “Feelin’ alright about needles, Ma’am? It won’t feel that great, but I promise I know how to stitch a straight line.” 

You watch Logan jumble through his own belongings, shivering and hearing the snap of latex gloves from David’s side. They both worked like a well-oiled machine, with gears and pins moving in stupendous arks of shared understanding. If you were being honest, it almost overwhelmed you when a heavy fabric was dropped over your shoulders. 

Fingers go to keep the blanket over your form as a small protein bar was held loosely in your face from Logan’s hands. Brown eyes blink when you carefully take the item, whispering out a small, “Thank you, Logan.” 

The silent man studies your expression before he nods firmly, backing up and taking Riley with him out into the rain with a whistle to allow you more room. You respond to Hesh as he waves you over with a hand.

“I don’t mind needles,” you admit and David listens, patting the rock beside him on the ground for you to sit on. Doing that, you unwrap your bar and hunch deeper into the blanket. “It’s the blood that bothers me.” 

You get a silent side-eye and a gentle hum in understanding. 

“I’ll be done before you know it,” Hesh offers a twitch of his lips, going to lightly twist your arm so that the stained bandage can be unwrapped and laid to the side. “Then when you’re back in the Fort I can get you home to your family. I’m sure someone’s pretty worried about you right now, huh?” 

Your face scrunches, confusion taking hold as you’re just about to bring the protein bar to your lips. Fort? Family? What was this guy talking about? 

Not noticing your look, Hesh, sets off to work, one thumb caressing your numb forearm as he sews your flesh back together. At some point, you turn away, content to bite your lip at the pain and glare into the stone beside you rather than see the crimson slosh down your arm. David wipes at it every so often, seeing the curved needle slowly bring the ragged ends of skin to a neat line. 

He does his best to move as fast as he’s able, careful not to dig too deep and cause you more stress.

You eat your bar with a ravaging hunger, done with it almost immediately and licking the remnants off of your fingers. Hesh chuckles deeply, but a part of him is concerned at the sight.

You had said you didn’t know how long you’d been out here—how were you getting food? The wildlife? You didn’t seem the type to go hunting; didn’t even carry a gun unless it was in your backpack. David doubted that, though.

“Hell, the only person I’ve seen devour those things like that is Logan.” He comments, cutting off the last suture with the small scissors from the pack. You turn to watch his face, seeing the concentrated lines above his eyebrows and the way his tongue lightly pushes out of the side of his mouth until he licks his lips. “Don’t know how he does it—they’re more bland than his cooking.” 

You huff slightly at that, embarrassment heating your cheeks as the needle stops its up-and-down motion. Hesh finishes up with one last look over, tilting his head to the side. 

“You seem pretty close,” whispering, you glance at the figure in the rain, the yellow ball being tossed absentmindedly to Riley before it’s dropped at Logan’s feet as he walks the perimeter. 

Hesh smiles, “Definitely. Couldn’t imagine my life without him.” Fresh gauze is spread and taped down, new bandages unfurled. “Feeling alright? You’re doing great.” 

Your eyes blink at him, slipping over his handsome features and the way his hand holds you so softly even if he is quite large. The cold didn’t seem to bother him at all. You clear your throat and nod shakily.

“Isn’t the first time I’ve been stitched up.” Muttering out your confession your fingers twitch as David tightly wraps your wound up, securing the end and unwrapping the tourniquet at your elbow when he’s done. 

“Really?” The brunette frowns. “Sorry, that must have been tough.” 

You flex your hand, closing and opening your grip as his own travels to the marks the ruthless tourniquet had made on your skin. Freezing your eyes lay stuck to his fingers as the tips of them brush the indents, imaginary pricks under the skin forming as blood begins to flow properly again. 

Hesh doesn’t know what overcame him to do so, slowly pressing into the flesh with a low grunt stuck in his throat. Maybe it was some ill-placed concern for you—some guilt left over for how Riley had treated you before he had shown up. The fear in your eyes when he had killed those Feds.

But you…he wanted to help you.

Unexplainable actions make your heart thump, blood rushing to your head as your limb shakes at the contact. 

Quickly, green orbs pull far open, realization dawning. Clearing his throat, David swiftly moves his hand back to his knee, not meeting your eyes as a red flush makes everything from his nose to his ears pink. Your lips part at the sight in shock, jaw loosening. 

“Well,” he says loudly, moving back to stand and taking off the latex, “that’s that. You’re all set to go.” 

Without meaning to, a small giggle escapes your mouth as you rest your opposite hand on your arm. If anything that makes Hesh all the more flustered, quickly picking up all of his supplies and zipping up the medical kit with a racing pulse. 

Running a hard hand over the back of his neck, you see David call Riley and Logan back as his cheeks go back to their normal color. Your vision narrows on him, trying to understand this individual like how you could understand the thunder that rips the sky or the blanket over your shoulders. You swipe at the last dredges of rainwater on your nose, seeing the two brothers converse in hushed voices. Riley continues to watch you, shaking off inside the overhang and huffing.

It was quite obvious the dog held a grudge for you shoving him to the ground. Warming glee leaving you, you frown at the canine and shift your eyes to the outside world; the downpour is softer on your eyes than feral brown. 

You only turn back when your name is brought up. 

Hesh stares at you, serious, as Logan goes to swing his pack over his shoulder. “We need to start moving soon. It’s bad enough to be in No Man’s Land but to be this deep in Federation territory is worse. Do you have enough energy to keep going?”  

“I…” your lips stutter, taken aback, “Yeah, I should be alright.” If the terrain was anything like it was getting out of that town, I’m not going to make it a mile. Pulling the blanket tighter to you, you ask, “How far away are we?” 

Wherever they were going, it sounded like a good idea to tag along as long as they were allowing it. 

Hesh shares a stiff glance with Logan. 

“Full day of hard hiking, give or take. Terrain’s changed so much it’s a gamble every time.” Your face blanks, throat closing.

“Okay, sure.” You don’t know when you had come to care whether these men left you behind or not, but Hesh’s caring attitude had struck something in your chest like a drum. 

Now that you had someone to talk to out here, someone to caress your wounds, it felt vile to stake out on your own again. Running from soldiers with yellow stars and black rhombus patches outlined in red. This pair wasn’t so bad, at least from what you knew as of now.

David’s lips tighten, eyes sliding half-closed to narrow on you. Green meets brown, seemingly telepathically communicating in that way only siblings can. 

Hesh nods his head, slapping Logan on the shoulder firmly as he calls Riley to a heel position.

“C’mere, boy, we’re leaving.” The dog lopes over as the brunette stops in front of you with a smirk. A silent Logan huffs a chuckle from his position, shaking his head to himself. You look up in confusion, a slow death seeping into you as a teasing expression makes Hesh’s face shift. His arms cross over his chest.

“How do you feel about piggyback rides, Sweetheart?” 

—

You yelp, gripping tighter around David’s neck as the ground nearly gives way, his handle on your hips increasing. His mouth releases a grunt though he quickly rights himself so he doesn’t send the both of you careening over the edge of this rocky hill.

“Easy,” he huffs, looking behind at you as the slowing rain falls on everyone. A brow raises, puffs of breath escaping Hesh’s mouth as he begins to continue on. “Or you’ll choke me out before we make it back.” 

You cringe and loosen your hold, muttering, “Sorry, David.” 

“Hesh’ is fine,” he laughs, turning back, “Only person that calls me David is my old man. And don’t worry about it.” Eyes twinkle. “There are worse ways to die than being choked by a pretty girl.” 

You heat, sputtering for a minute as the joke registers; glaring at his head below your chin. 

“Well then, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I just yanked you off this cliff? Pretty girl and all.”

The deal had been you would keep up with Logan and Hesh as long as you could, from then on the Lieutenant would so graciously allow himself to be the pack mule while Logan and Riley protected the both of you. In all fairness you had done better than expected—David had called you stubborn and practically forced you onto his back when you started dry-heaving on the side of the trail. 

Over the walk, you had gotten into a habit of softly arguing with the man, Logan sending back amused glances every once and a while. It felt good to speak to people again.

“Hm,” Hesh huffs through his nose, sidestepping a boulder and carefully finding footholds in the ascending ground. Riley barks from the top of the hill as if telling him to hurry up. “Y’know I don’t have an answer for that right now. Would you be throttling me on the way down or no?” 

“Depends,” you deadpan, not looking at the edge that the man walks confidently, shivering but still keeping Logan’s blanket over your shoulders.

Hesh blinks water from his eyes, glancing over his shoulder. “On what?”

“On if I can get to you before Riley chomps my hands off.” A loud bark of laughter springs from his chest, unexpected but pure. It echoes off the cliffs and the trees, and you have to laugh slightly with him. You feel his hold squeeze your thighs, hiking you a bit farther up as he makes it to the top, Logan looks at him with a slightly parted mouth before his gaze slides to you. 

You swore there was a spark of thankfulness in his expression, but he’s turning and whistling for Riley a second later. 

“Shit, that’s a fair point.” Hesh chuckles, and you notice his shiver when the cold wind whips past. 

Cheeks burning, you move your hands making the man under you make a noise of confusion. Ignoring it, you peel at the blanket around you and place it above the both of your heads, blocking out the water even if the fabric was already soaking. You rest your elbows on his shoulders and sigh, looking at your bandaged arm for any blood. 

Dark, yes, but all the red fluid was dried. It was seemingly all good. 

Hesh feels his lips pull in a heart-felt smile, stubbled cheeks gaining a sheen as you hide his head from the rain. He didn’t need you to, of course, but the action came from a place of genuine care. It felt…nice. 

“That’s kind of you, Ma’am. Thanks.” Green peaks slightly up, and you turn away so you don’t meet his eye, cheeks burning.

“Least I could do.” Your mouth mutters. “Thanks for not letting Riley eat me alive…and the stitches.” 

Hesh grunts softly, still smiling. 

“Well, I’m not one to let my dog rip apart civilians. Least of all ones that need help.” He keeps a close gaze on Logan and the canine, watching the treeline and the rustling bushes from the blanket edge. “It’s a good thing I found you when I did—wound like that’s a nasty thing to treat half passed out.” He dares to push, “How’d you get it if you don’t mind tellin’ me?” 

You noticed how he would try to ask unassuming questions in hopes you would be able to explain yourself but in reality, you were just as confused. The military was still functioning? You had no idea, stuck in the same areas for…a long, long, time. 

It made you afraid. How…how many years had passed from when the sky had erupted with fire, beams of pure light slamming into the earth. You try not to dwell on it. 

Holding the blanket edge tighter, you wiggle your chilly nose to push back sniffles and explain to the best of your ability. Hesh had called those men Federation Soldiers, and you had heard of that title before the world had fallen apart like a toy castle under the fist of a child. 

Federation…You speak slowly, thoughtful of your words.

“I was running,” David slows a bit, putting distance between the others as he watches Riley sniff an old rusted bucket stuck in the middle of a Black Sage bush. His lips thinned, and a tense feeling in his gut was forming. “I don’t know for how long or where I was going, but I knew that if I didn’t run, I would die.” Your arm was throbbing, but you only look at it and continue. “I bumped right into one of those men when I was trying to see through the rain.”

Voice dipping slightly, you hold back a squeak of surprise when David’s thumbs start moving back and forth slowly over your thigh. Blinking down at the top of his head, you pause and speak through a hitch of breath—the man mistaking it for upset and feeling his eyes crease. 

“...He swiped at me with a knife and I raised my hand up to block it. I,” you stare over at Riley as he runs next to Logan, that brown and black coat soaking wet. “I thought they had sent a dog after me when I saw yours in the house.” 

Hesh tilts his chin to the ground, lungs breathing down a sigh through his nose. Walking around the form of an abandoned and rotting side table, the Lieutenant tries not to imagine how scared you must have been in that instant. 

He moves his head and you look into the expression of a soldier who takes his job very seriously. At the intensity that lives behind his eyes—at close range—you see flecks of bark and mossy dirt; a delicate and almost pretty curve of lashes. You’re entranced by a rugged beauty as you sigh. 

“That’s never going to happen again.” Skin heating, you see his gaze search your face, hold firm. “I said I would get you home,” he declares, letting a small smirk peel his lips. “And I’m not one to go back on my word, you hear?” 

Your chest tightens. You don’t have the heart to tell him whatever place he’s bringing you isn’t your home, but you feel light at the statement anyways. The insinuation was enough.

“Okay,” you mutter, and you both stare a moment longer. 

Nodding subtly, David studies the dirt and grime on your cheeks, the weather on the epidermis in what could have been sun exposure or simple blemishes. Your expression turns shy at the blatant staring, and you move your head back just as Hesh chuckles deeply, blood pumping. Walking faster, the Lieutenant rejoins the other two with an alert eye and a soft smile as a thankful feeling grows for the blanket over his head and the woman holding away the downpour. 

He decided then and there that nothing bad would ever happen to you as long as he was around.

It’s an incredibly long walk, but when you see the Wall for the first time, you nearly fall right off of Hesh’s back. The rain had stopped by now, though the air was still moist and the sun low—giving the world a shivering temperature. 

But the Wall. 

Hesh had called it Liberty Wall in a passing comment as he had let you slide from his hold, your feet stumbling not from fatigue but from sheer amazement. It was…gigantic. Falling to pieces, sure, but nonetheless a great achievement.

“There she is,” David sighed, stretching out his arms and groaning as Logan radios in from where you all stand along the ridge. Riley lies panting at Hesh’s feet. “Good to see ‘er again, huh? Been outside for too long, I’m about ready to eat a whole plate from the mess hall—and that’s really saying something.” 

About to chuckle to himself, eyes narrow in confusion at the realization of your blank expression behind him, frozen body with wide-open lids and parted mouth. Hesh’s brows crease. 

“Hey...you alright?” Clearing your throat, you notice the twin brown and green gazes on you with a quick swivel of your head. 

The brothers share a look.

“Mhm,” you bite your lip, hands descending into your pockets as you shuffle, shoulders rolling under the straps of your backpack. 

Hesh crosses his arms as the radio on Logan’s chest statics with a garbled voice, “Affirmative. You’re all clear to proceed, Sergeant. Good to have you both of you boys back so soon—Riley too.” 

It was becoming even more clear that you needed to be brought to Fort Santa Monica and to their father. You had met Federation soldiers, were in No Man’s Land for who knows how long, and acted as if you’d never seen possibly the most recognizable landmark that had been made during the last ten years since ODIN. 

“Logan,” Hesh turns to his brother but keeps his eyes on you, “radio into dad, yeah? Tell him we’re back and going to be showing up at HQ. Ask for an empty room.”

You stare along the barrier, mind running back to all the events that had happened since the moment the world had changed, wondering. Thinking. 

If this had been here the whole time… Faces flash over the back of your eyes like a layered movie before you push them back. The trail that Hesh and Logan had taken to get here was probably only known to the likes of them—no one else, or you would have traveled it ages ago. The dark-clad soldiers were so numerous that you’d never even thought to take the main road up North, nor the woods. They were everywhere all the time.

A hand grips your upper arm and you flinch, focusing back as Hesh’s strong jaw comes into view. He flattens his lips in a still-line smile of comfort.

“Let’s get you inside, Ma’am.” His hand carefully presses down farther on his hat atop your head, pulling it over your ears once more. “Find you some less soggy clothes.”

“What about you?” You ask without really knowing what you mean, finding some strange sense of comfort when David was near to you. 

The man chuckles, heart jumping, beginning to guide you down the slope and watching you closely in case you trip. Riley keeps on his right, neck hair still bristled whenever he looks your way. 

“What about me?” He asks, cheekily.

“You just carried me more than halfway here,” you shiver and dig deeper into Logan’s blanket, “and you’re just as soaked—I don’t want you to get a cold because of me, Hesh.” 

The sentiment was true. David was feeling worn out, and some of the liquid dripping down his face was undoubtedly sweat, but seeing that adorably concerned expression was almost enough to make him forget the aches in his shoulders and thighs. He blushes and turns his gaze ahead, clearing his throat. 

“Ah,” the man shakes his head, “don’t worry about that. Could’ve been worse.” He smirks, “could have had to carry Logan.” 

You laugh quietly at him as everyone makes their way down into a large, underbridge, area made of concrete; heading quickly to a checkpoint in front of a large pair of black-steel doors built into the Wall. 

“I don’t think it would be that bad. Funny to watch, at least.” Staring at the back of the younger brother, Riley suddenly comes up from behind you, seemingly intent on getting there first. His ear brushes your swaying hand and the next thing you know, Hesh is shoving you to his opposite side as savage barks make you yelp. 

“Woah, Riley!” David hollers and your heart jerks to a ravaging pace, air trapped in your throat as you’re kept close to a strong chest by an arm around your shoulder. “Holy Hell, stand down!” 

Logan by now had turned and was jogging over, grabbing the dog by the vest and peeling him back across the concrete. Panting, you watch with shaking limbs and look down at your fingers. 

Nothing more than a large scratch across the top of your left hand, but it was irritated. You sink deeper into Hesh’s side and cover it against your chest. Green eyes jump back and forth from you to the raging canine, Logan’s grim-set face glaring down at the furry beast, putting Riley into a sit with a gloved hand to his behind. David smushes you closer and after a minute of more barking, the dog falls silent, though still glares at you violently. 

You struggle to take down air, face scrunched like crumpled paper. This dog… 

Hesh glares and clenches his jaw at Riley, for the first time in his life entirely frustrated with the animal. 

Guiding you forward quickly, the brunette doesn’t move his grip, scowling over his shoulder before bee-lining to the entrance. He speaks in clipped sentences to the guards who all know him and his brother well. 

“Take us to HQ.” You’re ushered into the back of an armored truck, Hesh taking your right side and telling Logan to stay with Riley in the next vehicle of the convoy. 

Blinking quickly, you swallow down saliva and hold your hand tighter, shivering and staring at the floor. 

“Let me see,” muttering, Hesh reaches out. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault…Christ, I swear he’s never like this.”

You shakily put your hand in his, the large mark aggressive looking but barely bleeding. But you remember the pressure of Riley’s fangs vividly as they slid past your flesh like soap.

“Ah, shit,” the man huffs, “I’m sorry, Sweetheart.” His thumb runs over the mark lightly, gritting his teeth and sending you a stiff glance. Your vision tilts as you look away, but the slide of his hold was addictive; the small twitches of his fingers and the warmth they bring. 

“Y’know,” you attempt a small, wobbly, chuff, “he looks a lot cuddlier than he is.” 

Still tense and feeling guilty, Hesh pushes forward a dull twitch of his lips; blaming himself. Maybe the dog needed more socialization if this was how he was going to act around injured civilians when they barely brush against him. 

“Yeah, I suppose.” Still holding your hand, he squeezes before stuttering nerves release you—hesitation to let you go bunching his knuckles for a second more. He liked the feeling of you in his hold, liked how your tension slowly leaked away when his attention was on you. “Doesn’t hurt, does it?” 

You feel the slight pulse in your hand, sighing before shaking your head.

“No, not really.”

“‘Not really’ isn’t givin’ me the reassurance I’m lookin’ for, Ma’am.” Shuffling out of the blanket, you place the water-heavy fabric in the seat beside you as the car flies over the ground, speeding you into safety.

“I think it would be worse if I lied.” Itching at his chin, Hesh huffs and nods, his large body so close to yours that his shoulder bumped yours with every movement of the vehicle. 

Your heart is steadily calming, and you rub at your face. The feeling wasn’t bad, and you almost find yourself leaning into him and putting your head in the slot of his neck.

Stop that.

“Guess so, but it would make me feel less like an ass.” Smiling, you raise a brow and view the way his chest beats quickly through his clothes, bouncing his vest up and down with adrenaline. Green narrows at you and your face heats. “But, no, honesty would probably be best, Sweetheart. I’d hate for you to be hurting and not tell me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you smirk, swiping fatigue from your eyes as you yawn. “You’re very nice, Hesh—your brother too. Not what I would expect.” 

Wide lids side-eye you, lips parted. There’s a second of still silence as you slouch back against the seat, placing your stitched arm over your abdomen and pulling Hesh’s hat farther down your head; even if it was wet, it had gained a semblance of a precious gift. Like a present on a holiday, one you shake because you’re so excited to open it you have to stimulate your mind with its hidden contents. 

David blinks quickly, looking away to stare out the window and see the dark sky outside and the shadows it leaves as the twenty-minute drive to Fort Santa Monica truly begins. He lets you rest your eyes, but the comment has genuinely struck him.

Nice was not on the list of what most people called him. Stubborn—a natural-born leader, ruthless, and prey driven. But…nice. He clears his throat quietly and watches the raindrops sneak down the glass. 

“You’re not too bad yourself, Ma’am.”

—

You’re sitting in a large room filled with screens playing black and white video footage, pulling at the collar of a two-size-to-big sweatshirt and shifting in large camo pants. They had taken your backpack. In front of you, the face of an older man was simply watching you as you looked around with fatigued wonder. Desks with stacks of papers; large computer data storage boxes, the entire works. One of the upsides to this, you blinked at a water dispenser and realized, was that the lights were dim in here and you were finally somewhere that had AC. 

Inside your head, you were at a standstill. Part of you thought this was a dream, was this really all here the entire time, and you and the others just—

“I think we can start with names.” Your eyes whip forward, finding Elias Walker’s cold brown stare and graying hair as he stands across from the table you’re sitting at; your feet shuffle under the wood.

Hesh and Logan are by the door, the younger leaning on the wall petting Riley and the older keeping his arms crossed and fingers loose on the collar of his vest. Green softens when you look over slightly, a comforting smile finding your vision. He nods.

No need to be worried, he seems to say, I’m right here with you.

Over your head, the damp beanie was still there, now only slightly water-logged. You pull it down over your ears with a slow grip and listen. 

“You can call me Elias, and those are my boys you met,” a pale hand is moved in explanation. He grunts, “I’d imagine you’re all acquainted well enough.” 

You nod giving your name and mutter, “Nice to meet you.” 

Elias crosses his arms over his chest—it’s not hard to see how all of these men are related, though Hesh is more of a carbon copy of the father. The older man has a calm but stern look on his face as he frowns.

“And what was it that drove a civilian down into Federation-occupied land? Past the Wall?” You fiddle with your fingers in your lap, licking your lips. Elias wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “Better yet, how exactly did you make it outside—only way out is through the checkpoint.” Brown darkens, “else there’s a breach I don’t know about.” 

You struggle to answer, not sure if you know how to formulate a sentence that would make any sense. But this was starting to make you nervous. The unyielding intensity, Riley glaring at you, your blatant tiredness. Shock was settling but you didn’t know how to explain.

“How…” speech falters, and Hesh watches closely, frowning but knowing that you had to show them how you had gotten beyond the barrier. It was a massive security breach—it was a miracle you were even alive, really. “How long has it been since that wall was built?”

Elias stills. By the entrance, Hesh’s expression freezes. It’s as if the very air flips at the bare insinuation you offer forward. 

Shifting his hips, the older man’s muscles tense, as if he’s thinking over something very important. “Ten years since ODIN struck. Work on the Wall started right after.” A silent pause. Expectant. You feel your face drain of blood; a blank horror. 

Ten…ten years? It was silly, but your mind quickly went to your age—adding the numbers together and the time you missed. Ten years of hiding; of watching rare acquaintances die, scavenging for supplies. Ten years and this entire time you would have been able to live normally had the Federation camps moved just a tiny bit Eastward to open a path for you. 

“I…” You clear your throat, forcing out a blatantly fake laugh through a whimper, “Wow. That’s something, huh?” 

“You mean to tell me you’ve never left No Man’s Land?” Elias leans forward, placing his hands on the table and closing in. He doesn’t look angry, but his tone is disbelieving. Accusing. “That’s impossible.” 

“Dad,” Hesh steps forward, holding out a hand in front of him and glancing at your numb face—the sway of oblivion. 

“Ten years,” you whisper, staring off into Elias’s tense neck. “But she died just a week ago. All this time we could have…” David turns his head to you sharply. 

It’s like time stands still in that room—a void completely separate from all else besides a brewing acceptance. No one knows who you’re talking about, but the context is little needed for the way you spoke. Obviously, you had lost someone terribly important to you and Hesh understood that the reason you had probably made it so far was because of whoever they had been. You weren’t exactly the perfect image of a natural survivalist—not helpless, no, just not like the Lieutenant of Sergeant. Certainly not like their father.

“Shit,” a hand is lightly placed over your mouth, stomach bunching in your abdomen. 

“Let’s do this another time,” David interferes, and his father throws him a sharp glance. “It’s late, Dad. Everyone needs some rest; we can pick it back up in the morning—first light.” His mouth quirks in a stiff smile, and Logan backs him up silently.

Elias stands back up to his full height, crossing his arms loosely, and you’re stuck in the well that makes up your consciousness, descending bucket being fruitlessly dragged back up by a rusty handle only to fail halfway in the air as the rope bunches. The father sighs deeply and shakes his head, giving in to his son after a clench of his jaw. But it was obvious you posed no great threat.

“Alright.” Hesh nods and walks over to you, placing a hand on your shoulder as you look up at him slowly. He plasters a small smile on his face. It looked incredibly kind—the strong set of his eyebrows now soft. 

“Why don’t you come with me?” Fingers squeeze into your flesh. “There’s a pretty good barracks building a five-minute walk from here—doesn’t smell like the others and you’ll get a room all to yourself.” Elias watches, face losing a part of that tense edge. He shares a glance with Logan and turns to resume his work. “That sound good? I swear I won’t put you up in building three.” You stare and he acts like he’s sharing some big secret as he lets you stand up. “Ant problem.” 

You spare a tiny, broken, chuff of a laugh and his face brightens. A small win.

“You coming, Logan?” The Lieutenant asks, but the blonde is already shaking his head ‘no,’ pointing to the back exit to the shooting ranges. He was a night owl, through and through, and hasn’t changed a bit since they were kids. “Sounds good. I’ll take Riley.” 

“You boys take it easy,” Elias says over his shoulder, and you stay at Hesh’s side as he leads you out of the room, whistling for the dog to come to a heel which the canine does with a lolling tongue and sharp ears.

“You too, old man. Don’t worry about us.” 

“I always do.” The door closes and once again you three are walking together—Hesh more present with using his own body as a barrier between your form and Riley with his right hand near the dog’s vest handle. 

“I think my dad came off a little heavy, sorry about that.” David’s voice brings you back, pulling that bucket a little farther up from the pit below. “It’s just…”

The sentence falls.

You bite your lip and say, “It’s just his job. Even when I think about it,” the man still hasn’t released your shoulder, but instead moves his hand to the span of your shoulder blades. You try not to shiver and fail when he listens as if you’re the most viable source of news ever created. “It does sound a little...insane.” For lack of a better word. 

David chuffs, tilting his head and scrunching one eye. “Maybe just a little.”

The man feels you shaking and he doesn’t think you notice. Eyes wide and fingers twitching from where you keep them. The noise probably doesn’t help.

Buzzing lights and conversations only a door away as the two walk down the hallway and make it to the stairs to lead down to the main floor. From there the sounds were more barking dogs, vehicles, and gunfire from the training grounds. 

This was a military base, after all, and it never really went to sleep. It must be grating to hear after the utter silence of No Man’s Land.

“...But you wouldn’t be the first, believe it or not.” David tries to keep your mind off it, keep your attention on him…but he was curious; desperately so. Yet still, he didn’t want to rush you. You looked so overwhelmed it made his chest squeeze. “Heard a few reports from Dallas before it fell—a family that had lived in a man-made bunker and were found by patrols five years in when they were out scavenging.” 

“Really?” Your lashes caress your cheeks, and a small smile comes to you. You wonder how this man can make you feel so comforted; at ease despite the dog at his side and the various intimidating-looking gear strapped to him. Hesh was good-natured, it almost seemed impossible to imagine him a hardened soldier like you knew he really was. Kind, if not a bit mischievous and blunt. “That sounds more interesting than what I lived like.”

“Well, I doubt that.” Lips perk in a smirk. “Anyone with brains knows that time spent outside the Wall is always interesting.” 

“We just moved around a lot,” you admit, “those soldiers were always changing camps so we never stayed long anywhere.” 

“Hm,” Hesh makes a sound in the back of his throat, nodding. “Could’ve guessed that. Bastards jump around like cockroaches—can never get a good hit on ‘em.” He doesn’t press. 

“Really?” You feel more present now, itching at your cheek before looking at Riley as he lopes along and watches the roads from where you walk on the sidewalk. “What about the pattern?” 

David blinks his green eyes at you, face creasing. 

“Pattern?” 

“Yeah, they shift in a hexagon pattern every month. I had a map with it marked so I knew where to set camp.” Breath stills and Hesh stares at you, shocked, but his tone changes to a serious rush. He turns you slightly towards him with two hands on your arms.

“Would…you be able to mark those points again? If you had another map.” You lick your lips, cheeks going hot as you stutter, and feel his hands press into you. His chest was incredibly close to you, body heat leaking into your bones. Riley glares.

“Y-yeah, I think so.” David studies your face, searching for any hesitance. He pauses, green glimmering. There’s a moment when you notice the fast blinking on his face, the slight flush to his stubbled jaw as he clenches it, and are reminded of the caressing thumb that had dug into your inner elbow. 

Delicate stitches. 

The world blurs like a reflection in unknown water. Ripples that distort the streetlights into the shadows on his face and create soft waves of old scars and pale flesh in their warm illumination. Hesh’s breath hitches.

“G-good.” And he’s releasing you quickly as you wonder if being found by him was truly the best thing that could have happened. You spare a glance at Riley with racing blood, trying to stop the smile that insists to form for no reason. The dog cocks its head. “We’ll…get on that tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Whispers dance on airwaves as David keeps his eyes forward. Clearing his throat as you clock that tick and pull his beanie off. You bump your elbow to his side and he snaps his neck back over like a line with a hook. “You should have this back.”

You both walk slowly, side by side down a back street, and spare each other quick glances with flaming faces.

“No, that’s alright,” Hesh utters, rubbing at his neck and avoiding looking at you head-on. Your fingers brush the fabric and your expression softens. “I have a whole bunch in my room, don’t worry about it. I’d…” he chuckles to dispel the strange tension in his shoulders. “I want you to have it. Don’t want you cold.”

Your eyes crinkle, and the man swallows.

“So you think that your hat will help with that?” Teasing, you take it back anyways and situate it back on your head, shyly putting your hands into your pockets. “What? Is it special?”

“Woah,” Hesh, smirks with a raise of a hand, pointing lightly at you. “Hey now, Sweetheart, don’t disrespect my beanies like that—they’ll save your life.” 

Laughs bounce off the street. 

“I guess I’ll have to keep a close eye on it then,” Riley huffs and Hesh pats his neck firmly, giving him attention. “For my safety.”

“Damn right.” Your heart hurts from how fast it’s beating, that great muscle like a large drum that echoes in your ears. Skin tingles with an undeniable tension in the air.

The barracks building comes into view. 

It’s nothing extravagant, but the thought of a soft bed and a pillow not filled with mold was addicting. Your eyes blink along the structure as Hesh leads you in, keeping the door open for you as he tells Riley to sit at the entrance. The dog does so, though obviously with disapproval—grunting in that lupine way as the barrier separates him and his handler.

“He really does not like me,” you mutter out, raising a brow and catching back up to David who waits a few more feet into the building. 

The brunette sighs.

“He does tend to hold grudges. Once he wouldn’t play fetch with Logan for two days because he forgot to give him his dinner.” 

“Hell,” your brows raise up, “my odds are in the ground.”

“Probably, Ma’am.” You elbow his side again and he chuckles, bumping his shoulder into you as his hands sway at his sides. “Ah, don’t hold it too close, Riley’s just a special case. My father trained him so he’s all business.” A smirk, “Nothing like me.” 

You stop as Hesh does—in front of a nice-looking wooden door.

“Here.” He points to the handle and you grasp it, twisting and pushing past. 

You enter a tiny but clean room smelling like linen and golden light. Delicately, as if the world would break apart if you touched anything you stare at the lamp on the nightstand, the curtain over the window; the…comfort. The sight of an extra blanket on the end of the bed almost made you cry. 

“Now,” Hesh slides past you as your lip quivers, wide eyes looking around. “No one else can access these barracks without an ID, so there’s nothing that should go…wrong…” 

He trails off when he sees your face.

“Hey,” David takes a step forward. “What’s wrong?” His eyes slip around, looking for what might have upset you as he comes back to you.

“Nothing,” fingers lightly rest on your collarbone as you shake your head; vision going blurry at the man’s worried face. “Nothing’s wrong, Hesh, I promise. Just…” you laugh wetly, and a tear drops down your chin. “I forgot what it was like to have an extra blanket.”

It was more than that, but the statement was all you could describe right now without making a complete fool of yourself. David’s breath stills, hand stuck an inch from your arm. 

He watches the tears fall from you and, without thinking, he reaches up the back of his pointer finger and brushes it along the flesh; creating a line of fire up until he completely swipes it away. After a second of quivering silence, the air flimsy as your lungs jump, he finds no fear or discomfort in your expression and does this again—wiping away any trace of past hurts. 

Blinking, you tilt your head forward and bump it into his chest. Startled slightly, Hesh grunts, but his hand finds the back of your head above his beanie and cups it, staring down at you with hot cheeks and a thick throat. 

“I…” he begins but can’t find the words. You made him want to skin his hands of calluses so that the roughness of his touch was foreign to you. 

You only deserved warm flesh and extra blankets. As much food as you could eat—soft mattresses and even softer clothes. So short of a time he had known you, but not a second more did he want you to suffer. 

Ten years. He can’t even imagine it, and yet here you are in his arms. Kind. Unbroken.

Hesh’s head stutters, hesitating, before his neck bends and he presses his face into the top of your head, closing his sad eyes and running his other hand up and down your back. 

Sniffling, you melt even more into him.

“She died a week before you found me—my friend. She was with me since the beginning.” The hitched voice that comes out of you is so quiet that the brunette has to strain his ears to listen but listen to you he does. Silent as a bug and tightening his hold so you hear his strong heartbeat rampaging in his chest. 

Logan and him did this a lot when their mother died. Just hugged and held each other as if their lives depended on it. He doesn't know why, but he knows it has to be the same for you as well.

“Infection. She fell,” your voice cuts out, “fell on a rusty nail. She’s the only reason I made it this far.”

“Where were you?” Hesh asks, lungs aching for you. “When ODIN struck—in town?” 

You return to that time, hand sliding up to wrap around his waist to ground yourself. David lets you, increasing the pressure of his gentle hand on your spine. “Hiking. It…it was a family vacation.”

His jaw clenched tight. A swelling hatred strangles his neck, a feeling that makes his eyes slip back open—forests burning in his iris’ in great waves of an inferno. He had never wanted to charge out into San Diego more than at this very moment.

A family vacation had turned into a decade of surviving. Hesh didn’t have the heart to ask about where your family was now. He already knew the answer.

“Everything just…fell apart.” Your ribs hide your fast-paced lungs, your sniffling nose stuck deep into fabric.

“I know,” the man grunts, “I know it did, I’m sorry.” It’s all he can say. He knows. David pulls you back by the shoulders after a moment and slightly moves his head down to look at you head-on. “But you’re here now, okay? Behind the Wall. You made it. And I’m gonna make sure that you’re never alone like that again.” He attempts a smile as you see his concerned expression, shining with sincerity and honor. “I’d stake Riley on it.”

The wet giggle that exits you is automatic, and Hesh chuckles right back; put at ease and ears bouncing with that sound that he commits instantaneously to memory. 

“That’s counterintuitive, Hesh. I don’t want your dog.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I never break my word, huh?” Perhaps why he was so good at this, comforting people, was because of Logan. Only two years apart, but he’d taken the big brother role easily—loved it, in fact. It made him feel good to see people smile.

But it made him feel on the moon when it was you.

You watch his green eyes slip over your face, thumb going to wipe away the last drops on your under eye as a deep heat starts smoking inside of you. David speaks lowly, compassion so visible you find you want to gaze upon his face for hours; mapping lines and piecing together what made this man…him. 

“Feeling better?” Smiling softly, you find yourself leaning into his hands on your face. The brunette smiles back and chuckles. It wouldn’t be so bad, you decide, to stick by his side—even if Riley was less than approving.

“Feeling better.”

You sleep that night with an extra blanket wrapped around your body and a dark beanie on your head; taking in the scent from the fibers of thistle and dog hair. You’d never smelt something more comforting.

—

A week passes with a flurry of activity. You find out that Los Angeles is still habitable—in fact, there’s a stable economy in the city and people are thriving. Fort Santa Monica is home to not only a handful of civilians from before the war but also an incredibly large amount of military personnel all under Elias Walker's command. 

Hesh had taken you out on the third day for a ‘tour’ as he called it, but it was also due to the fact that you’d been too afraid to leave your room when not called upon. There were so many…noises…again. People laughing, happy conversations, and greetings thrown your way.

“Word got out about the girl that lived in No Man’s Land,” David had teased as you awkwardly waved at a woman in fatigues that had slapped your shoulder and invited you out for drinks with her friends. You had politely declined. “Everyone’s eager, seems.” 

“I think I forgot how to properly speak to people,” you had sent a frown and a huff his way, keeping close to him as he led you on with a wave of his hand and a deep chuckle. 

But in all this time you had earned yourself a big reputation for being the woman who handed over intel that others had only just begun to unravel. Federation base locations. Patterns on movement—irreplaceable data.

Which was why you’d been asked, rather told, by Hesh that you’d be going to the bar with him and Logan for drinks. On the house. 

You’d quickly found it to be a strange affair.

“Not feelin’ up to it, Sweetheart?” your eyes lift from where you’d been swirling your still-full glass of amber liquid. “I know it can be a little loud—I’m sorry. Merrick’s a giggly drunk.”

Green eyes stare at you with pity, throat bobbing as a beer bottle sits on Hesh’s lips; the last dregs going down before he wipes his mouth with his sleeve. 

“If you wanna leave I’ll walk you back, okay?”

“No,” you wave a hand, touched but hesitant, “that’s alright. I’m fine, really.”

The lieutenant smirks and tilts his head—raising a dark brow in disbelief. The two of you had gotten close over the days; he had told you early on that you were easy to read for him.

“Don’t make that face at me, David.” You glare, pointing from your seat at the bar top. Hesh rolls his eyes and shakes his head as if disappointed.

“Whoa, first name—that’s illegal.” 

Your lips pull up in a sharp smile, leaning over the table as the music from the building plays in your ears; warm light on your cheeks and nose. “David, David, David!” 

“Hey! Quit it!” You’d grown fond of him in a way you can’t describe. So short of time and yet you both still get giddy when you see one another—hearts hammering. Even now as the laughter spills from both of your lips and people in the bar spare knowing glances, you don’t address it. 

“But really,” Hesh levels and you watch him spread his hands in surrender, beer bottle still shimmering in one hand, “whenever you want to go, just ask.”

“Hesh!” A call bounces from the far corner and you both look over, startled, to Ajax at the pool table. “Get over here so I can wipe the floor with you!” 

There’s a bout of laughter from the other bar patrons, bets being placed loudly. 

“Hey, it won’t be that easy—you’re on!” Hesh is off with a rush, patting your shoulder as he passes. You watch after with a wide smile and a raised brow, muttering to yourself.

“He’s unbelievable.” You can’t deny the loftiness that you feel when he looks happy like that. Really happy. It’s nearly a curse to try and think about what he would have become if the Federation hadn’t fired ODIN. He would have been in the military still, no doubt, but not quite the same. 

Hell, what would you have been like, even?

A shadow slips into the chair next to yours, and you look over, content. “Hey, Logan.”

The younger brother nods to you, sipping from his glass of water, a greeting smile on his square jaw. True to the brunette’s word, he was very quiet, but you didn’t find it in a disrespectful way. Logan carried himself with a subdued power, and the dichotomy between Hesh and him was laughable when you really thought about it; polar opposites.

You didn’t mind in the slightest.

Holding an easy conversation with nods or tiny comments back, you spoke with him for about twenty minutes while Hesh and Ajax called each other names and threw baseless threats through smirking lips like toddlers. At one point a very drunk Petty Officer Second Class, Thomas A. Merrick, had to drag a laughing Ajax off the pool table while you and Logan watched with exasperated glances. 

But the air was easy and the drink was flowing—soldiers from all over the Fort were here tonight. For you, though most just came for a good sip of alcohol and you didn’t blame them. You just did what was right, nothing more. 

“I think I’m gonna head out,” you tap a fist to Logan’s shoulder and he looks at you, sparing a quick glance at Hesh. You smile. “Nah, I think he’s going to be at it for a while. I’ll just walk back by myself—I’ve got my keycard, so I’m all good.”

A yell of victory rings from the corner before a loud exclamation of, “Rematch, right now! Your foot hit one of the balls to the left when you were climbing it!”

“It did not!” Logan stares blankly behind you and you laugh, slipping past. 

“Tell Hesh I said to have a good night!” You call over your shoulder, catching adoring brown eyes following you out and a mock salute from his water glass. 

Riley sits outside, resting his eyes, but when the door closes behind you the canine springs to his feet. The week hadn’t soured your relationship, but it definitely didn’t make it better either. Frowning, you pause in the night and look at the empty food dish and the filled water cup set out by Hesh for him.

“Tough luck, bud?” A muzzle lightly curls, but at least he wasn’t barking at you. Ears stand alert and ready. “Look,” you level, pulling Hesh’s beanie farther down your head as those beady eyes glare. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, okay? It’s not like I want you to hate me—I was protecting myself. You,” your finger points, and a lupine huff warns you, “came at me.” You point to your chest. “Remember?” 

It was comedic the way Riley yawned harshly at that moment, and you scoff.

“Who am I kidding, you’re hopeless just like your handler. I shouldn’t even be doing this,” reaching into your jacket pocket, you produce a small, soggy, napkin. Bending down, Riley growls low in his gut, but you ignore him. Not to say that the sound didn’t make your lips thin, though.

Unraveling the knot you’d tied in the bar, you look down at tiny cubes of medium-rare steak and sigh. “Look if this doesn’t work, I’ll give up.”

Flattening out the napkin, you pick up a piece and turn your vision upwards to an intently watching dog. At the sight of the food in between your thumb and first finger, the dog’s mouth gradually opens, tongue beginning to lull. A black nose twitches quickly. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you grumble, “Hesh said you were a food fiend.” 

Tossing one of the pieces on the ground, you let him sniff it before his teeth flash and he grabs it quickly, tossing it up and munching on it. When Riley’s done he looks back at you expectantly, shoulders less wound up but still uneasy. 

“Well,” you push the rest forward before standing, “go on then. Don’t let me stop you.” 

Shaking your head to yourself, you leave him behind and set off down the street, mumbling, “You can’t say I never did anything for you…” 

You hear the sniffing before the clammer of biting teeth, happy pants, and tapping feet. Huffing, you can’t deny the slight jump that affects your heart. You’d have to tell Hesh about the progress tomorrow. 

Your cheeks heat, smiling to yourself as you think about the brunette. His hands always seemed to be on you one way or another and during the last two days he’d been holding onto you for longer; firm touches that he had to blink himself back to the present to take away. The actions made your skin tingle and more than once you’d caught your gaze lingering on his visage—his body. As if trying to will him back to you when he had to leave. 

But the staring was mutual. You had sworn at one point you had seen him more intent to fuzzily look at your moving lips than to focus on what you were explaining. Fingers absentmindedly tapping on a desk and humming at every word from you. The look had been…your body shivers warmly in remembrance, staring giddily at your shoes. 

You continue down the street, circles of light from the lamps hitting you one by one as you glide under them like a moth. Humming a light tune, you take the route that Hesh had brought you down the first time, imagining his hands on you and his lips on yours. 

When you giggle silently and chastise yourself for thinking like that, you hear the last whispers of a distant conversation that lead you to pause.

Your face freezes, smile stuck as your legs stall. It was Spanish wafting over the air, hushed and harsh. That wouldn’t be alarming, many people here spoke the language fluently as it was the native one of the entirety of the Federation—it was needed for intelligence gathering, or at least that was what Hesh had explained. No use going into No Man’s Land if you can’t understand the driving force occupying it. 

But this was hushed arguing, not some common conversation. It didn’t sound normal and the scuffling feet over the concrete gave you pause. The night suddenly became very cold. Backing up a step as you stare in the general direction of the increasing footfalls, the sudden sight of three heavily armed men as they round a corner with strong eyes. 

Your vision finds them immediately—and they do the same for you. It was instinctual, then, when your suddenly fevered face snapped to their patches. 

Gold stars and a black rhombus. Red outlined. Your expression utterly drops. 

There’s a single instance where no one moves, neither you nor those three Federation soldiers that now stare right back with an equal amount of shock. 

“Eh,” you make a sound in the confines of your throat and all hell breaks loose.

Jolting away, shouts ring out as hands snatch at your limbs, and you can’t even begin to think about how these people got into the Wall undetected. 

Everyone’s at the fucking bar!

Yelling loudly, you dash to the side, a quick swipe going above your head as the beanie is wrenched off of you instead of your hair. Not bothering to fight for it, though a large part of you wanted to, your feet take you anywhere but here. 

Roaring in anger, the soldiers pursued with rampaging boots and vitriolic order. Why they don’t shoot you is a wonder. Maybe it was because they wanted to try and salvage what they’d already lost. 

The screams escape you as you dash backward, retracing your steps but it isn’t going to be long before they catch you—true to that idea, just as the words exit your mouth, a harsh hand captures the back of your neck. 

“David!” The other winds around your mouth, muffled screams stuck behind gloves. Legs and arms striking out, your body is dragged into a back alley; the others all join to force you to submission. 

Your boot connects with someone’s kneecap, and a hoarse yell echoes as you rage with a frenzied pulse. Wide eyes look this way and that, sweat forming on your brow as a punch finds your gut and a resounding insult flies to your ears. 

Going slack for a moment, the violent white that bursts behind your vision leaves your straining muscles useless and you try to breathe behind the unrelenting hand over your mouth and nose. Like a shot deer, your dragging legs give out; coughing and gasping for air. 

Pain shoots down your chest with ruthless efficiency. 

You suppose in that moment of ringing ears, that it was chance that you heard the dull shunk of a knife being taken from a sheath. It wasn’t chance, though, when your desperate teeth snapped into the heavy hand, ignoring pain and the tears smeared over your face.

With a sharp cry, the hand loosens enough for you to get the last word, a brief moment of clear realization, “Riley,” you scream with little breath but sufficient volume, “Come!” 

The knife descended on you, but you jerked your shoulder to the side, head ripped back to bare your neck to the silent moonlight as the hand recovered your face. Black dots swirl, shadows lingering like phantoms in the recesses of your mind and spilling demons from your eyes. Hatred flares in you, but not as much as fear does. That silver blade connects with the meat of your neck and shoulder junction, tearing past muscle and tissue to rent a large slash open to the air. 

Your legs kick before arms wrap around them—more quickly called orders and insults directed at the one who had missed your neck peeling back the drums inside of your ear. Thick, hot, blood stains your clothes; the copper scent gets stuck in your nose as you gag and try to force your lungs to function with nothing to suck down. Darkness seeps deeper, and the knife is brought up once more, the tip digging into your cheek with a firm bite when you try to flinch away.

That’s when a guttural and vociferous yowl exudes from the chest of a rampaging canine as it bursts from around the corner of the alley, white teeth glinting and eyes red. 

Riley has the man with the knife by the neck in two seconds flat, reaming him back and clinging to his spine with only his fangs on his nape. Multiple wet crunches echo for but a moment, a small sliver in time, but then the loud pained bellows that follow after drown out all else. Like a bomb had been dropped, the man Riley keeps ripping apart falls sideways, hands reaching behind his head to try and pry the dog off. In a fit of fear and stupefaction at the turn of events the remaining men release you, tossing your body to the side and into the adjacent wall in panic. 

Hands reach for guns but it’s already too late. Riley has ripped the entire back of the man’s head off in a flurry of fur and jerking maw—flesh peeling back in long strings into a waiting mouth as the screams continue. Now, though, they come from only the remaining soldiers as you watch with mute horror; gripping your leaking cut and vision fuzzy from the blow that your head had taken from slamming into the wall. Lack of oxygen. 

With all the ruckus, it was only customary that the streets were soon awake with confusion and rising tension. You swore you heard your name being called streets over, hurried yelling as the lights flicker on from the building across the road.

But Riley. Christ, Riley. 

The second man’s pistol was stopped from rising any farther as fast fangs found a wrist, the shot bouncing off the ground as you balked back against the wall and cried out. Across the Fort, the yelling starts up. Louder now. That remaining soldier unaffected thus far by the feral rage is snapping into a ready stance—shaking as the barrel is leveled with the dog’s skull as sharp points go for the kill once again. 

“Riley!” You snag out a leg and rip it back, curling your foot around his ankle. Black clothes hit the ground hard, as the man inside went with them. 

It carried on just the same. 

Panting you stare into the blood-dripping muzzle that now turns your way, three opened necks pooling to the ground and twitching. Gargling gasps dribble like glasswork exploding in kilns; such a vulgar, primal, sound. But you only stare at the beady brown eyes as they seem to bite you as well. Framed with crimson, whiskers droopy as droplets hit your knee and rancid breath slides over your stalled face.

“Please…” you mutter, bruised head turning to the side, eyes clenched shut. Licking lips resonate and you clench your hands as you finally hear the frantic calling of your name coming down the road. Fast-moving shadows.

Hesh.  

Riley breathes on you, but before your swallowing throat can call out the brunette in fear of what the dog will do, a wet tongue licks a long stripe over your cheek. Eyes bugging, you snap your head back up, jaw slackened and brain struggling to calm down. 

The dog watches with a slow tilt of his head, tail lowly swishing. 

“What the fuck,” gasping wetly, the hand on your wound lessens, hot fluid gushing between fingers. 

Riley huffs, feet shifting. 

Laughing slightly in anxious confusion, your free hand lightly raises. Soft fur conforms to you, letting your digits weave through the locks. Riley licks his lips once more and sits on his fluffy behind, ears sharply up and twitching. 

Hesh nearly runs past the sight, heart too fast for his chest and teeth clenched tight together. His mind was as sober as it could be—a deep sense of unease clawing in his gut. 

He’s heard the screaming; the gunshot. When he’d run out of the bar after doing a quick headcount for you and being unable to place your form, Riley had already been gone. A trail of dust and a floating napkin were the only indicators. But the fear was worse than that.

Where had you gone? Were you in danger? No thought was behind his sprinting, just a flushed face and a deep need to keep you safe. He’d promised you. 

No one had been able to stop his senseless searching as he took off at a racer’s pace, looking down alleyways and carrying the pistol in his right grip until his knuckles had gone white and see-through. Like a loyal hound, Hesh was intent to find you. Even if it turned out to be nothing. 

And then the real screams started, and so he screamed too—your name.

But now he slams a hand into the concrete wall and reels himself back, a hunched shadow stiff in the side of his green vision before he can fully pass the alleyway entrance. 

“Holy…” Hesh trails harshly, gaze going wide. 

You were there surrounded by three Federation soldier’s bodies and while that was alarming, there was only so much you could do when you were a corpse. Riley held in your arms was something that Hesh couldn’t begin to explain. 

But the shock was short-lived.

“Sweetheart!” He called, boots propelling him forward as he slid to one knee in front of you, hands pushing past fur and muscle to bring yours forward by your shoulders. A handgun is placed into the back of his belt. “Woah, woah, hey. Tell me what happened. Where does it hurt?” 

Staring into your eyes you immediately relax at the presence of the man, his large body seeming to shield you away while sending glances around the area; not liking the thought of more attackers. 

“Hesh,” you breathe, massive weight coming off of you even as you bite your lip in a pained whimper. 

“I’m here. I’m right here.” Hands travel over your body, gliding over bumps and bruises quickly and efficiently. “What the fuck…” he growls deeply. “It’s all gonna be okay.” 

A swift glance is sent to the canine who watches blankly. 

“Good job, boy.” You stare blurrily into Hesh’s neck as he carefully peels back your hand, face scrunching and body pulling together as sparks of agony alight as the gaping cut meets the breeze. 

“I,” stuttering, you ignore his harsh inhale, the ripping of his shirt as he presses the tattered cloth to your neck. You shiver. “I lost your beanie.”

Fearful green eyes lock on your as the calls from the rest of the soldiers from the bar finally make an appearance. How fast had Hesh been running to find you? 

“Hey, don’t even worry about it,” his palm encapsulates your cheek like a prized family heirloom, keeping your face pointed toward him as you shiver. The soft scraping of his hard calluses itches your flesh. A strained smile graces his lips, “I’ll give you another one.” He looks the rest of you over and grits his teeth. 

He doesn’t care about the dead soldiers—the possibility of a breach. Suddenly, all of his priorities had shifted in the short span of a week, horrible loyalty rearing its head.

“I need you to stand up for me, Sweetheart, okay? I’ll be right here, I just need you on your feet. I know you can do it.” You nod shakily, pulling strength from his resolve as his arm pulls you to his chest like it had when you’d first hugged; using his muscles to drag you up a second after checking to see if you weren’t in too much pain. 

Standing now, his grip stays around you, propping you up into the crook of his arm and increasingly looking more and more worried. 

When you flinch and whine, he looks about ready to burn down cities to bring you comfort. 

“Riley, come on!” Hesh calls, then softer, “I know it hurts, but you’re doing great. Keep at it just a little longer.” 

He moves you quickly, and the pounding in the back of your head threatens to drown out everything—your neck and ribs barely made a dent like that did. A pan being hit with a spoon. Nails on a chalkboard.

“Logan!” David yells, and he feels incredibly warm. Riley brushes your staggering legs, keeping close and looking up at you. Leaning in more heavily, you gaze up into Hesh’s frowning face, his continued glances, and the furrow in his brow. 

You wonder how you’d never noticed how truly handsome he was before. Hesh had a strong face—good bones and a soft nature to his skin besides the stubble. And his eyes. Oh, his eyes. You blink up at him and he spares a stiff smile, mostly dragging you down the alley. 

Other feet pound the ground near the entrance.

“What’s that look for? Huh? Makin’ me nervous over here.” His fingers squeeze your shoulder. “Got something on my face?” 

“You’re kind, Hesh.” You whisper, blinking and stumbling before he grunts, twisting his grip to bring you up into a bridle hold. “Far kinder than you should be.”

His heart breaks.

Clenching your teeth, you bury your head into his neck before the brunette starts to run again. He pounds past Logan and a group of armed soldiers, who slide to a quick stop. Hesh only spares his wide-eyed brother a single, horror-stricken, look on the way through. Riley follows.

“Just keep talking.” He pleads, your dead weight in his grip worse than anything he’d ever experienced. “Y’know, you keep ending up in my arms.” He rounds corners, heading to the MTF with a bursting pulse. Hesh keeps looking down at you, pressing your head closer with a hand as if he could bleed himself to give you strength. “I think I should get my own plaque—Pack Mule. What do you think?” 

Laugh, please, laugh. Please, I need to hear it.

You laugh slightly, ear ringing to his blood flow. You want to melt into him, let him keep holding you like this and keeping you to him like a stuffed animal. His breath on your cheek, his glassy eyes and bitten lips. 

You’d known he was good from the moment you had seen him standing and gaping at your form in that bathroom cabinet, willing to treat your wound without even knowing if you were armed.

He’s good.

Hesh sprints past an entrance, shoulder slamming into a glass door as it’s thrown to the side. 

“Nurse!”

You don’t know why, but hearing his voice crack like that made you want to sob.

—

The soft antibacterial whip made you glower and flinch back, frowning straight into Hesh’s serious face.

“If you clean it anymore my skin will fall off.” You shoo his hand away from your shoulder, pulling the hospital gown back up in the process. 

“Just making sure it’s healing,” he looks up at you from his chair as you sit on the end of the bed. “Can’t be too careful.”

“Says the man who’s been here every day and leaves Riley to watch the door when he has to go to the bathroom.”

“Hey,” Hesh blushes, pulling back to slouch and crossing his arms. “It’s called being cautious. We still don’t know where the breach is.” 

You stare with a soft smile, exasperation in your eyes. 

“David,” he raises a brow at the title, “I’m okay.” 

Moving your hand from your lap, you absentmindedly pet the dog that sleeps on the hospital bed, itching behind Riley’s ears. Hesh watches, moments passing as the small tension seeps out little by little. He glances at the outline of stitches that he has to place bandages on soon but quickly looks away, frowning to himself. 

You sigh, shaking your head. 

“When I heard your voice from the alleyway entrance, I knew I would be just fine.” Green slowly slides back, gaze softening considerably as he watches your expression. A low grunt is forced out, a rubbing of a hand on his neck. “You promised, didn’t you?” Your head tilts. “You haven’t broken it.”

“No, I haven’t,” Hesh breathes, standing, “and I don’t intend to.” 

You smile, face hot as his vision blinks to the upturn of your lips. “Hey,” Riley stirs next to you, “at least I know I won him over.” Your hand pats the dog’s head. 

The brunette stares and a moment passes before he whispers, “knew you would.”

Blinking, you turn to find the most delicate expression on David's face and your breath hitches in your chest. He swallows but doesn’t hesitate. The words had been eating at him for a while, and as he was never one to shy away from speaking his mind, it was like torture to keep this from you. But now…now events have forced him into the spotlight. He can’t forgo this anymore, he can’t lie and say he hadn’t been sneaking glances or daydreaming about you. Your smile, your voice—even the way you walked or how your eyes lit up when you were passionate about something. 

It was just right, and seeing you like this now only strengthened that. Hesh had felt fear like he had when he was carrying you a total of a mere handful in his entire life. 

He mutters, “I knew from the second I found you out in No Man’s Land that you were special.”

Not believing your ears, you stop your petting. Wide eyes like dinner plates and a half-parted mouth. 

Was he…?

“I knew when you made me laugh when I was carrying you through the hills,” Hesh takes a step closer and grabs you lightly by the chin, tilting it up with a finger. His face was adorably burning, but you short-circuit at the words that continue to flow with candor. Your heart skips beats and with a clammy hand, you reach up to brush his wrist. Shivering, confidence builds. “I knew when I hugged you the first night you were here and,” he looked down, “I…I knew you were special when I felt my heart bursting out of my chest when I found you in that alley.” 

“Hesh,” you whisper, and you realize you close the two of you had become, breath mixing like a cocktail of glorious infection and stolen words. 

“If I hadn’t gotten there on time…” 

“Hesh.”

“...Even if I’ve only known you for a short while, Sweetheart, I can’t stop thinking the same thing every time I see you.” You stare, eyes wet, and suddenly no longer aware of where your head is anymore. 

His lips brush yours, but all you care about are those green eyes; digging, drilling past membranes and thoughts more effectively than any blade. You’re entranced, wholeheartedly frozen just for him—just as he is for you. 

It’s nothing but a whisper now. You feel the words more than hear them. His thumb tightens on your chin, and you don’t pull back as you steal his warmth. His kindness. 

His loyalty.

“...that even if I hadn’t entered that house on that rainy Tuesday,” he shutters, “I’d still be looking for you everywhere I went.” 

When his lips meet yours, you capture his soul, dragging him down into the depths of your lungs and breathing hope back into him. You smile through it, bandaged and stitched but happier than you’d been in a long time. 

Pulling back from a soft and delicate meeting of flesh, both faces are heated, burning under the pigments. There’s a moment of sanctity—holy silence one would find in a church during high mass—as you stare at one another. Hesh’s fingers run small movements on your skin. You beam and he says in a whisper, “Hey…I guess that means I did something right.”

“You’re lucky you’re perfect, David.”

“I could say the same about you, Sweetheart.” You giggle and drag him back in as Riley snoozes on, legs kicking in a silent dream. 

When the nurses come to check on you in four hours, they’ll find the bed occupied by three forms. 

A soldier, a patient, and a dog. All curled up in a pile of multiple blankets and hard pillows—arms wrapped around one another with the man pressing the woman’s face deep into his chest; even breaths of a soft sleep that sing like rare lullabies. All, in their own way, seem to have heavy smiles stuck into the lines of their faces.

They leave them be.

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[deansapplepie]

Till THE DEAD do us part | Chapter 2

A/N: This story will take place in all the seasons, but it’s not exactly a rewriting cause I’d have to re-watch everything to use the exactly lines of the characters, also I think it’s better if I tell a side story without changing the main facts of the story.

This story has a Female Reader, but I don’t describe her appearance, so anyone can identify with her.

Chapter 1 Chapter 3

Chapter 2: Anything that Reminds you of Me

Summary: In this chapter Y/N Grimes gets back something that she lost, discover some secrets and conflicts Shane.

Warnings: mentions of cheating, swearing, mentions of death, violence, Shane is an ass, Merle being Merle.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Grimes!Reader (Rick’s sister)

Word Count: 3716

Extra notes: I proofread the text, but English is not my first language, so feel free to correct any mistakes, of course with love.

After that day you grew closer to Daryl, it was easy to be with him, you could stay a long moment silently and it would not feel awkward. Also, it was cute to watch his interactions with Luna. He started to interact more with her and sometimes even took her for a walk. But now, you needed to also deal with a super protective Shane that out of nowhere thought you were a little girl.

“Be careful. He’s not the right man for you.” You rolled your eyes at him, he always said the same damn thing and you were getting tired of it.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe I don’t want the right one? Maybe I just want the wrong one?” You were tired, you would always tell he was just your friend, that you knew how to defend yourself, but he always came with the same judgmental words about Daryl and about you.

“Y/N…” That was it, you had enough.

“Shane, I’m no damsel in distress, and… you’re not Rick, okay?” You chose your words carefully almost saying ‘you’re not my brother’, but you considered him your brother, right? You tried change your words to not hurt him, but what you said… he understood what you said, he was not Rick which means he’s not your big bro to boss you.

“Fine.” He answered teeth greeted.

“Fine.” You throw back at him, leaving your side of camp followed by Luna.

A group was getting ready to do a run to get more food and any other thing that could be useful. You weren’t going this time, so you approached Glenn to give him a list of things you needed. He was the one with more experience on the runs, so he was the best person to have the list.

“Just that?” He asked looking at your very small list.

“Yeah, I don’t need much.” You scratched Luna’s ears while she got a lick from Glenn’s hand.

“Nothing special? A candy? Maybe some cookies?” He suggested, you never asked those kind of things to him, but he would always bring something to you. He was like that cute baby brother that everyone wanted to have.

“If you see anything that reminds you of me, you can bring it.” You simply answered, everything was almost ready for them to go. So you decided not to get on their way. “Be careful, ok?”

You left them finishing getting things done and went to the other side of the camp where a certain archer was also preparing his things to go hunting.

“Good morning” you said as you got close to him, Luna already attacking him with her tongue and paws.

“Morning”, he answered while petting the happy dog. “Luna, stop” he tried commanding the german shepherd when she wouldn’t let him finish what he was doing. “Stop” he said again.

Then she stopped looking at him, puppy eyes, tongue out and the tail going side to side. “Good girl” he scratched her ears. You smiled looking at both of them, they were too much cute to not smile at.

“Can I go hunting with you?” You finally talked.

“It’s better not, I’m planning on bringing something big this time and ya make much noise walking, no offense” he was not wrong, but you could use leaving the quarry for a while.

“Alright, do you want Luna to go with you?” You asked, you’d prefer Luna stayed with you, but you knew he also needed some company.

“Nah, I’m ok. She sometimes doesn’t obey me, I don’t wanna risk anything happening to her.” You sat on a beach chair that was close where he was preparing to head out, Luna on your feet.

“When you come back, you’ll teach me how to shoot the crossbow, right?” You had asked him the other day and he said he could help you, but then you never had the opportunity.

“Yeah, I’ll…” he stopped mid sentence watching Merle approach, he was going on the run, so why was him coming back?

“Want anything special lil bro?” He asked, then looked between you and Daryl with a smirk on his face. “Maybe, some condoms?” He knew he would get Daryl pissed, most of the time he would say this things just so he could see Daryl’s reaction.

“Shut the fuck up Merle!” His face burned and he was trying to hide his blushed cheeks. Your cheeks were also blushing and you had nowhere to hide.

“Don’t you have to go on that run Dixon?” He laughed and tried to pet Luna, but she barked to him making him jump.

“It’s okay love birds, I’ll leave you alone.” He said returning to the group that was almost going.

“Don’t mind him.” Daryl tried to apologize, he felt like he was always apologizing or making excuses for his brother.

“Don’t worry, it’s just Merle being himself, there’s not much you can do.” You stayed there with him until he was ready to leave to the woods, you wished him good luck and told him to take care. He gave you a little grunt that you interpreted as ‘thank you, take care too’.

The rest of the day was uneventful. You helped around camp, took care of the kids and also rested a little. It was getting late but nobody had came back from the run yet. You were starting to become worried.

“Any sign of them?” You asked Dale who was at his usual spot near the RV.

“No, not yet.” He answered and looked with his binoculars again.

“What if something bad happened?” Amy asked worried, Andrea, her sister, had gone with them and she was not used to go on these runs.

“I’m sure they are fine, maybe they run into some trouble, but they have T.Dog and Merle, they are strong. They’ll be fine.” You tried tranquilizing the younger woman.

Not longer after this conversation you heard a big noise, just like a car alarm. Down the road a red sports car came in a high speed and the noise of the alarm became higher and higher. Soon the car stopped in the entrance of the quarry and it was Glenn inside. Shane ran to stop the noise of the alarm and soon after a truck stopped behind the beautiful car. ‘They freaking stole a truck’, you thought admired. ‘What could possibly have happened?’

You saw T.Dog, Morales and Andrea coming from the truck. Amy was helping Andrea to walk, something had gone really wrong. Where was Merle? Suddenly you heard a commotion, you thought you heard Carl yelling the word ‘dad’ and it couldn’t be it. What were the chances? Luna ran from your side in the direction of the group and you had to follow her. “Luna, stop! You can’t go running like that!” You yelled at the dog, only stopping when she jumped on Lori, Carl and… Rick.

“Rick?” You didn’t even know if anyone could listen to you, you felt as if you were in one of those dreams where you want to talk, scream and you just can’t, but that wasn’t a dream. Rick was there in his uniform, hugging his family, tears in his eyes and he heard you, if it was another sad dream he’d have ignored you like in every other that you had. But he got up from where he was hugging Lori and Carl, and he walked in your direction, you ran the short distance between you, and threw your arms around him.

“It’s really you” tears were already coming from your eyes.

“It’s me, I’m here now.” He was alive and his heart was beating, he kissed the top of your head and you hugged him tightly.

“I thought you were dead, I- I should have gone and saw it for myself. I’m sorry, you were left alone… I’m so sorry.” Many feelings came to your mind at this moment, Shane told you he was dead, but he wasn’t. You were happy about having your brother back, but now you were infinitely angry at Shane.

“It’s ok, you couldn’t know. None of us are going to separate again, I promise.” After you departed from his embrace, you looked at Shane and for second he was scared. He knew you were mad, and he knew he had screwed everything. Your look meant many things and he was scared of what he could lose if you ever opened your mouth.

You were informed that they let Merle cuffed to a rooftop.

“Damn, I know he’s an asshole, but it’s not going to go well when Daryl get to hear about it. I’m not telling him, you guys tell, I’ll just be around in case he gets out of control.” You said. Fuck. You knew they probably had a good reason for that, but Daryl was his brother and he would get very upset about it. Actually, upset doesn’t really represent how he would be. And you couldn’t blame him, you were a young sibling too and if it was Rick… you’d be angry too. In fact, at this moment you were still mad about Rick being left in the hospital to die.

“What will you do? Are you gonna kiss the calm into him?” Shane mocked you up, good everything you needed.

“Fuck you Shane!” You showed him your middle finger and left, if it was any other time, it would become a playful moment between both of you. But right now, you couldn’t. There was too much on your mind.

You closed into yourself for a while, trying to calm yourself down and organize your thoughts, but it was almost impossible. You wanted to thank Glenn, for bringing your brother back to you, but with everything that happened you didn’t get the chance to thank him. When you told him to bring something that reminded of you, you were not expecting him to bring your brother that you thought was dead. You were so glad at Glenn for it, he could have ignored Rick and let him to die, but he helped him.

“We’re organizing to go get him by the morning” Rick sat by your side, concern in his eyes. “I know we shouldn’t have left him there, but things got out of control and T.Dog lost the key.” You know he was being honest, and you were happy they were going back to rescue him.

“Daryl is probably coming back tomorrow morning, maybe he’s able to go with you. I think he’d like to.” You felt Rick tense, you knew your brother, it was just like you could feel his energy. Shane already opened his mouth.

“This Daryl Dixon, what’s going on between you two?” There was the question you were waiting he would drop.

“Nothing, he’s my friend. I have no idea what Shane told you, but he’s an ass. He judges people without knowing them. Daryl is a good person and he was with me when I needed the most.” You gave him a brief explanation, omitting the part that you were crying over his cheating friend and wife, and telling it was because you missed him. Not completely a lie. “Trust me, he’ll probably hate you tomorrow, but you’ll get to know him and you’ll see who he really is.”

Rick tried to trust you, he knew you well and he also knew Shane’s temper, but he could not stop protecting you now that he was back.

The other day early in the morning Rick, Glenn and T.Dog already had a plan and were packing everything to rescue Merle and pick the guns Rick had lost. Everything was going just fine, till Daryl made his big entrance cursing a walker that ate the deer he was tracking.

‘Just good, he’s already moody. That helps a lot’, you thought. As soon as the news were told, Daryl jumped in Rick’s direction and you had to come between then.

“Hey! Hey! Daryl! Listen to me! Calm down.” You were in front of him, your back turned to Rick, hands up.

“Easy for ya to tell, yer brother is back from the dead while mine is handcuffed to a damn roof.” He looked at you and you could see anger, fear and despair in his eyes.

“I know. I have mine back and you need to rescue yours. They are going back to rescue him. Rick is really sorry, trust me.” You put your hands on his chest praying he would not flinch at your touch or take your hands away, but he didn’t move. “Now we can stay here, fighting each other while Merle is alone in that rooftop, or you can all work together and rescue him. I know right at this moment you wished Rick was dead, but I’d never wish it for Merle. Our brothers can do stupid things, but they don’t deserve to die.”

A long silence came and Daryl contemplated the possibilities, he trusted you, but he wanted to punch Rick’s face as much as he wanted to punch Shane for going around talking shit about his brother. He looked at you one last time and said “Fine. I’m going.”

After they went on the rescue mission the camp started to go back to normal. But it was not over to you, and you had something you needed to do. You walked large steps on Shane’s direction.

“Hey Shane!” You called, in the moment he turned to you, you were already close enough and in seconds your closed hand were making contact with his face.

“What the hell was that for? Because of your boyfriend?” He asked his hand touching the left side of his face.

“That was because of my brother, and you know why. All the reasons going on your mind right now, it’s because of them.” You know he understood, his angry face became a worried one in seconds.

“Y/N… I didn’t know. I swear, he was not breathing, his… his heart had stopped.” He tried to explain. Some people looked at you and other pretended to be minding their own businesses but you couldn’t care less.

“Well, then explain me this. Because I see two options, first you lied, or second we need to take Rick to the authorities immediately, because he’s the cure to all this shit.” You decided to go to the side of the camp where your tents were, you have had enough. The show was over.

“Aunt Y/N, why did you punch Shane?” Damn the kid saw it, Lori wasn’t going to like it.

“Shane said I needed to practice, so he asked me to practice on his face. Very dumb decision I’d say.” You gave the first excuse you could think to Carl, but then Lori came.

“You punched Shane?” She asked in low voice, everybody saw there was no secret about it.

“Yes, he deserved. You know he deserved, I was holding up since yesterday when Rick showed up.” You answered actually there was way more time that you wanted to this, but no way you were going to say Lori what you saw one and a half weeks ago.

She had nothing to say, she also was angry at Shane for making her think Rick was dead. Lori was angry at herself too, for getting involved with Shane, but now it was too late. After that you took some clothes and went to the lake to wash them with the other women, you also decided going at Daryl’s tent and took the clothes of him that you could find. After what happened that was the least you could do to him. You took Luna with you so she could play a little and experience the freedom. Most of the day was alright, the exception was the scene Ed cause ending with Shane punching the shit out of him, you hope he understood the message to not touch Carol again. Also, Jimmy had an insolation and were kind of having hallucinations forcing you to tie him to a tree.

Later that day, you were starting to get anxious about them not returning to the camp. You had just gotten your brother back and even though you knew he did the good thing going back to Atlanta, you were worried you’d lose him again. All of you were around the bonfire eating the delicious fish that Amy and Andrea had fished, you were not a fan of fish, but this was the apocalypse so you would eat whatever you needed to survive. Soon after Amy told she was going to use the bathroom and got up, you heard to her scream and from that moment everything went wrong on that night.

Zombies were attacking the camp, one had bitten Amy, but you didn’t had time to feel sorry for the younger girl that was so dear with everyone from the camp. Everyone got up and ran trying to pick something to defend against the dead. You always carried your gun and knife, so you took your knife and got ready to defend yourself and your family.

“Carl, Lori, Y/N, stay behind me, I’ll protect you.” Shane said, you just ignored him and started stabbing the dead on the head with your knife.

If you could fight, you would not stay behind any man hiding yourself. Rick and Shane didn’t teach you how to knock out a rapist so now you could hide away from the zombies, they were even easier to deal with than alive people. You started counting how many you killed, using it to concentrate and not let your mind wander, soon you had lost count of how many. While you killed your last one, another came on your direction falling on you making you go to the ground, the dead on top of you, you lost your knife, you put one arm between you and the neck of the zombie, trying to reach out for your gun, but before you could take it the dead fell to the side an arrow on his skull.

‘Thank God, they are back.’ You thought and when you looked Daryl was already in front of you offering his hand to pull yourself up.

“Thank you” you said trying to catch your breath from the tiring wrestle you had with the dead one.

“ ‘s nothing” He replied and then shoot another one from the spot you were. You looked around finding your knife on the ground not very far from where you were fighting for you life, but not so close that you could grab it at the time. You took your knife, but the camp was already under control.

The dead that were not lifeless on the ground were being killed by the others, so you allowed yourself to relax a little. You spotted Rick not very far with Lori and Carl, your eyes roamed through the quarry and you also saw T.Dog and Glenn, but where was Merle?

“Merle?” You threw the question at Daryl, but you couldn’t deny… you were afraid of his reaction and of his answer. He made a face and shook his head, you thought about the worst.

“Oh my god, Daryl… I’m sorry.” You said, but was almost cut off by him.

“He’s alive, the dumbass cut his own hand and scaped, we were hoping he was back to camp and worrying about what he’d do once he arrived here. He stoled our car.” Well, this was totally Merle, you were glad he was alive, but you couldn’t even imagine what would happen if he had came back to the camp.

“That’s what took you all so long to come back?” You wanted to say you were worried, not only about Rick, or Glenn that was your good friend or T.Dog, mostly about him, but you didn’t know how the words would sound to him, so you stopped yourself before you could say anything.

“That too, but we had other problems.” You were going to ask more about it, but just when you were going to open your mouth Rick came to you.

“Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” Rick asked holding your shoulders and scanning you over to see if you were hurt anywhere.

“I’m alright, despite what some people think I’m not useless and fragile.”

“That’s not what I meant, I was just worried” Rick took a deep breath and looked in your eyes. “I just got all of you back, I can’t lose you again.”

“I can’t lose you too, so stop doing stupid things.” You said and tugged his hat brim to cover his eyes playfully. When you looked to the side, you saw the archer in the distance, already close to his tent.

The night was turning into day and one new morning was starting, the camp was a mess. You had people to burry and walkers to burn. And to think that hallucinating Jimmy dug two graves the other day. You were so caught up in all the confusion that you forgot about Luna, and you didn’t see her anywhere. You started to call her name, until she came running to you from inside Dale’s RV. You were so relieved she was good and alive. You squatted and hugged her while she tried to lick your face. All the people you cared for were good and alive, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it, but you didn’t know what you would do now, the quarry didn’t seem to be safe anymore. The question was, where could you possibly go?

Final Note: Thanks for everyone reading, liking, reblogging and commenting, it’s really good to receive your feedback.

[bunniekittiee]

I headcanon that when Johnny was a teen, he got a dog, but due to unfortunate events he experienced his first heartbreak. This is a little short but I’m trying to get back into writing as him. He may be a little ooc but idc.

Warnings: Animal Death, death descriptions, blood, a little gorey, angst

“That is an extra mouth to feed, ya’ stupid boy! Ya’ better leave it there.” Drayton scolded as Johnny was kneeled down on the dirt ground. He was looking over a puppy that wandered into the Sawyer’s property. Johnny assumed someone dumped it out in the back roads which angered him.

“Get off my back, will ya’? I ain’t leavin’ it out here to die.” Johnny said as he gently picked the little animal up. It curled towards his chest and looked up at him with big eyes. He could not help but smile. It was too cute.

“Wait until yer’ mother hears about this boy! She ain’t goin’ to be happy about this.” Drayton said as he stormed off to call Nancy. Johnny ignored him. He was going to keep it whether Drayton liked it or not.

Johnny was at the Sawyer home to fix a few things up that had broken down, along with some trap mechanism that’s needed to be worked on. The family needed to eat.

The Slaughter boy was sixteen, and he learned how to fix most stuff up on their property from Drayton. Despite his age, he got around fairly well. He was just passing his knowledge onto Johnny who would eventually take the wheel when he was older. Managing and fixing things up on his own. ‘A boy has to become a man somehow’ is what Drayton told him.

Nancy almost turned down the puppy Johnny found. She was never one to keep animals, let alone let her son have any. It was extra work and along with taking care of their own property, a dog would only distract Johnny. Just like a girlfriend would distract him as well. She had come over soon after Drayton called her.

“Johnny, we can’t keep her.” Nancy said while Johnny held the puppy protectively. “Havin’ a dog is only going to distract ya’. They make messes, they are loud, they smell, they need a lot of care. That is somethin’ ya’ are not built to do.”

He frowned. “Mama, I don’t ask for much. I just want her. She found me. She has a purpose. I’ll take care of her.”

“But will ya’ really, Johnny?” Nancy sighed. “Ya’ can make all these promises but I don’t see ya’ takin’ care of the animal.”

“I will take care of her. I already like her a lot, and she’s been sweet to me this whole time.” The pup playfully licked his cheek which made him smile. Nancy would be a liar if she said that seeing that smile on his face made her upset. She could tell he developed an attachment to her. “I‘ll take care of her, I promise ya’. Please Ma.”

She was quiet for a moment and sighed again. “Alright alright, fine. But if ya’ slack off on takin’ care of her, she’s goin’ back where ya’ found her.”

Johnny grinned wide and ran off to show Bubba his new puppy. Bubba clapped and gently cradled the small animal with Johnny supervising. He thought the small creature was very cute, and he squealed in excitement when the puppy started to play with him. Sissy watched from the couch and admired how Johnny was able to convince his mother to let him keep an animal. She thought Nancy would have been firm on her decision.

Drayton, however, was unhappy. “Ya’ do realize yer’ goin’ to create heartbreak for that boy when somethin’ happens to that dog.” He told Nancy as she waved him off.

“The dog is a puppy. She has a long while before she passes. Don’t tell me how to parent my child, Drayton.” She replied back with irritation. Drayton huffed and went back to the kitchen, still annoyed about their interaction.

Johnny kept true to his word. He fed Dahlia, bathed her, played with her, took her everywhere he went, and cleaned up after her. Nancy was impressed how careful and helpful he was with Dahlia. She thought he would eventually stop, but he never did. He continued his care.

He was twenty one now, and the German Shepherd was five. They always talk about how a dog is a man’s best friend, but truly, Dahlia was Johnny’s best friend. She was there for him throughout many of his life events, some good and some bad, and she comforted him in her own ways. Johnny loved her more than life itself. She always followed him to the pasture and helped wrangle up traps or any of the farm animals that had gotten loose.

He had been on many hunts now at the age he was at. He was experienced, and he usually kept Dahlia away from it, but sometimes he let her follow him. Dahlia was a great hunter and attacker, having experience with killing animals and practicing this on humans. She was fairly large for a German Shepherd, something Johnny admired as her size intimidated anyone that came across the property, whether it was the Sawyers or Slaughters. They never wanted to approach her, and she could be quite aggressive towards strangers. But to Johnny, she was the sweetest girl ever. She often sat in the passenger seat of his truck when he ran errands, head sticking out the window and tongue out. She was a very happy dog, for Johnny made sure she had everything she needed.

Another hunt was happening at the Sawyer home, and Johnny was preparing for it as Drayton had warned them that kids from the gas station were coming to their home. He was not too far behind them, of course. Light was dissipating into darkness as Johnny set up a few more electrical traps. Now he had to go into hiding and find a good time to strike.

Dahlia was very good as sneaking around, and she was very quiet when there was a hunt. So Johnny was never concerned about having her give up his hiding spots. Plus, when she wandered off, she did some of her own takedowns that Johnny thought was impressive.

That was, until that fateful night. He dearly wished he could go back and change it.

God wanted to strike Johnny down, and he did so in the worst way possible.

It was nearing the end of the hunt where there were only about three people left, and the family was picking them off one by one. Dahlia had wandered off from Johnny’s side, and he was a little worried because by now she would have came back to him or he would have at least seen a glimpse of her.

But he didn’t, and that made him more anxious. He had seen Sissy and Bubba more than he saw Dahlia.

Looking around, he tried calling her name out quietly while also looking for victims. He didn’t hear any sounds, only the small rustling of the trees from the wind. He chewed on his lip.

Snarling and barking, he snapped his head in the direction and sprinted to the sounds. Dahlia had sunk her teeth into a victim who thrashed around on the ground screaming. She kicked at Dahlia but the dog did not falter her grip.

“Fuckin’ bitch!” Johnny yelled angrily at the woman as he approached her. “Don’t ya’ fuckin’ dare kick my dog!” He jabbed his knife into her stomach as Dahlia shook her head wildly. Flesh ripped and blood splurged all over her. The victim continued her screaming as Johnny kneeled down to get his knife and shooed Dahlia off of her. He could finish the job. Dahlia listened, but as Johnny went to stab the victim once again, Dahlia whined and cried out.

Snapping his head up, he saw that one of the other victims had stabbed into Dahlia’s chest with a bone shard. Johnny felt his stomach churn as he quickly got to his feet, throwing himself at the man who stabbed his dog and started to beat the living hell out of him. Blood and teeth flew in every direction as Johnny bloodied his fists on the man’s face. His rage coursed through his body. How dare he touch her? Hurt her. Stab her.

His breathing was uncontrollable, and he did not stop until the whines of Dahlia snapped him out of his beating. Hurrying to her side, Johnny felt himself panic.

“It’s okay girl.” He cooed. “You’ll be okay. It’s okay, I got ya’.” Dahlia panted as her eyes darted from Johnny and the ground. The wound was bleeding in large amounts, and Johnny had the feeling that it was a fatal wound. “I promise ya’ it will all be okay.”

When he went to go touch the wound to inspect it further, she screamed, as much as a dog could scream, when he barely touched it. He retracted his hand quickly, and he felt the overwhelming sense of sadness. “Stay with me girl. It will be okay. You’ll recover. And I’ll take ya’ out to the pasture and play ball with you like we always do. You’ll be okay.”

“I got the last one!” Sissy exclaimed as she approached Johnny. Her face fell as soon as her eyes landed on the two of them. “Is she okay?” Sissy kneeled down on the opposite side of Dahlia and looked at Johnny.

“I don’t know.” Johnny replied. But he knew, he knew she was not okay. She was fatally wounded. She would not survive this, and he knew that. He didn’t want to believe it, but it was true. Johnny pet her bloodied fur to calm Dahlia down, but her breathing was fast and short. She looked at Johnny and stared at him. Almost thanking him for the good years he had given her. How good he treated her. How much she loved him.

Johnny’s hands trembled slightly and he felt overwhelming emotions. Anger, sadness, but loss. “Stay with me Dahlia. You’ll be okay. Come on, this is nothing.” She continued to pant and whined again. Sissy rubbed between her ears and watched as the life left Dahlia’s eyes by the minute. Johnny did not want to cry in front of his family about her, but he had a difficult time trying to hold it back.

“This is nothing, it will be okay.” Her eyes began to flutter as the pants slowed down, and eventually, she stopped breathing. “Dahlia.” Johnny shook her aggressively but she did not move. “Don’t leave me! You can’t leave me. Dahlia!”

Bubba was running over to the sounds of Johnny’s yelling and when his eyes laid upon the dog, he began to panic. He grunted and whined as he looked over Dahlia and figured out that she had passed on. He couldn’t help but get emotional as Bubba adored animals, especially Dahlia.

Johnny picked up her stiffening body, carrying it to the Sawyer home where he entered quietly with Sissy and a crying Bubba in tow. Nubbins and Chop Top came to see what the ruckus was about. They were able to tell what happened as Johnny laid her body on the table.

“What are ya’ doin’ boy?” Drayton yelled as he entered the room. “Get the damn dog off the table!” Sissy shot him a dirty look while Bubba blubbered quietly. Drayton looked at Dahlia, and he saw her bleeding wound and unmoving body. “Oh no…”

Johnny tuned Drayton out. He could not believe it. He felt like he was in a nightmare, but it was his reality. “She can’t be gone…”

Chop Top and Nubbins fidgeted silently as they knew better than to speak while Johnny was in disbelief. They all stayed silent.

“I think it’s best we give them space. Go on, git.” Drayton said as he shooed the others out of the room, as well as himself. It was best to give them space. A boy was mourning his dog, his best friend.

Johnny was silent. He ran his fingers through her fur as her warmth began to fade, her body now going into rigor mortis. The stiff limbs stuck out. He felt his eyes water, and now he could not hold back his tears. He was a quiet crier, and his tears landed onto her fur as he felt his pain become exposed.

She was gone. There was nothing else to it. Dahlia was nothing more than a dog corpse now, but she was once so full of life and joy hours prior.

Yet here she was. Lifeless.

Was this how victims felt when they found their friends, all mutilated and dead in the Sawyer home?

Was this how their families felt as their bodies were never recovered? Lost to time itself.

He did not like this feeling. He had never experienced it before, and he hated it. The feeling of loss and grief. Johnny laid his face into her fur, crying into her as he held her body. No one bothered him that night. He was alone.

Nancy comforted Johnny as soon as she found out what happened. She was sad that her Johnny was now experiencing such a strong emotion at the age he was at. She felt that it was unfair.

Drayton did not have the same compassion. Although he was nice enough to give Johnny his space that night, he was not nice to him when speaking about it.

“I told ya’ mother about keepin’ a damn pet. All they do is cause pain. She should’ve listened to me, but now instead ya’ are distracted and emotional.” Drayton complained as Johnny stared at the wall. “I told her that damn dog would create heartbreak. But here we are.”

Johnny was going to bury her originally, but Nubbins insisted on letting him take her body. The Slaughter boy was skeptical.

“The hell do ya’ plan on doing with her?” Johnny asked him with attitude. “Ya’ fuckin’ freak.”

“Ya’ will r-regret those words wh-when ya’ see what I p-plan on doin’.” Nubbins insisted as he narrowed his eyes.

And Johnny was surprised. Nubbins and Bubba had taken her bones and created special jewelry for Johnny. Some with her teeth and other parts of her bones. But what really got to him was the one that was engraved with her name.

He thanked Bubba and Nubbins, quiet as he was in awe of the kind act. This told them that Johnny was truly appreciative of the gifts they have given him.

Johnny wore the jewelry all the time. There was never a moment he did not wear it. He always carried some part of Dahlia with him. Chop Top has given Johnny the rest of her body as they did not use all of her, and Johnny buried it on the Slaughter property. It was an emotional ordeal, but he knew that she was okay wherever she was at.

He marked her grave with something so he knew where to go when he wanted to sit by her or talk to her. He left toys for her at her grave. It comforted him to do these things.

Johnny swore to himself he would never own another dog again. Sometimes he got the urge to have another one, but when he thought about Dahlia, he knew it was better to not have one.

He could not bear to lose another. It was too much for him.

A boy never gets over his first dog. It is very painful. And Johnny never did get over her.

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Silver Springs Part 1

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~11k

Summary: Wanda tries to leave her mob life behind to start a family with you. 

A/N: This is a crack-ish fic that I wrote because I got bored. Reposting from Ao3 Enjoy.

Warnings: Eventual violence, blood, death, angst, and smut. Not in that order. 

The sound of your alarm blaring makes you roll over with an annoyed groan. You often felt you could never get enough sleep, but lately it’s been particularly bad. You’re typically a solid 8-hour a night person, but you have learned to settle on 6 when you had to, and operate on 5 if the situation called for it.

Last night you’d gotten closer to 5 than 6, but luckily it was a short work day for you since it was Saturday. You also weren’t going to complain when your reason for staying up later involved your beautiful wife. Speaking of your wife, you noticed she wasn’t in bed and you sigh in defeat as you realize she’s already up and working.

You lie in bed for a few minutes to stare out at the spectacular view from your bedroom window. You’re still getting used to living in what is quite possibly your favorite place in the world. You’ve always loved the mountains. You loved the fresh air, the ability to walk for miles without seeing a single road, and the snow. You loved the snow. You couldn’t wait to see it cover everything in sight.

You’re considering a hike later this afternoon when you hear the tell-tale sound of your wife coming up the stairs. Despite only living here for a couple of months, you’ve learned what Wanda sounds like when she walks around the house. Your new modern mountain home was huge with three-levels and way more space than you four needed. The windows practically went to the ceiling in every room, and the rustic touches as well as the outdoor areas made it perfect for you to appreciate the amazing view all around.

“Good morning, detka.”

You smile at the sight of Wanda still dressed in her long t-shirt, one she’d borrowed from you that you never got to wear anymore, and too short shorts. Her hair is thrown up into a messy bun with strands of her red hair falling out, but you swear she’s never looked more breathtaking. You love seeing her relaxed like this and the fact that she’s been more relaxed since your move away from the city makes you even happier. You take the offered coffee with a kiss and sit up before eying her questioningly.

“Morning, Wands. Have you been up long?”

Wanda sighs as she moves to sit next to you on the bed with a nod and you’re reaching out for her before she even gets a chance to answer.

“Only for a couple of hours. Just needed to sort a few things out.”

You hum in acknowledgement but don’t have a chance to say anything in response before the door is opened wider by the other two occupants of your home.

Boone is your 2-year-old German Shepherd that you’ve had since he was a puppy. He was a gift from Wanda who had rescued him from a sketchy situation. She’d never told you the details, but you hadn’t cared when she came home with the 6-month-old, and you’d fallen in love immediately. He’s your baby and you spoil him rotten. Wanda often teases you for it, but she’s honestly no better when it comes to their cat, Fletcher. The grey tabby is another rescue that you brought home from work that Wanda didn’t want anything to do with. This only lasted until the cat fell asleep in her lap one night, and now they’re inseparable.

You greet Boone with a smile and a quick scratch before you realize you need to get out of bed. It’s 7:15, and you need to be at work by 9 for your first appointment. You take a long swig from your cup before you set it on the bedside table as you stand up. You’re thinking of everything you have to do to get ready, but as always Wanda seems to read your mind.

“I already walked Boone, and breakfast is downstairs.”

You stop short of the bathroom to circle back to the bed where Wanda’s still sitting. You have always been grateful that your wife loves to cook because although you’re pretty good at it, you usual prefer to sleep later than take the time to make a decent breakfast.

“You’re the best. Thank you.”

Wanda’s smile widens as you kiss her again, this time you linger for a bit longer but she’s still left chasing after you when you pull away.

“I need to shower. Do you want to join me?”

Your wife smirks and is already standing up to follow you when her phone starts to ring from downstairs. She immediately scowls and despite wanting to ignore it she knows she shouldn’t. You sigh in defeat before shooting her a teasing look as you retreat into the bathroom.

“Maybe next time.”

Wanda simply nods before she hurries downstairs to answer her phone. She’s already wondering who is calling this early, but she doesn’t have to wonder long when she arrives downstairs and sees the caller ID.

“Ugh.”

She pinches the bridge of her nose as she picks up with an annoyed huff. “What is it, Vision?”

Only he called this early, and only he gave her useless updates that could be given to anyone else. She often complained about him to Nat and of course this led to her teasing the redhead about the blonde’s massive crush on her.

When Vision had initially started working for her father, she’d been 18. The older man had immediately taken an interest in her, but she had no desire to have anything but a working relationship with him. He was both socially awkward yet overly confident, and just not her type. She met her type only few years later when she’d been running an errand for her work the local university.

Y/N had been 21 and in her last year of undergrad when she’d met Wanda. She’d been studying animal science and was leaving one of her classes when she’d noticed a stunning brunette with dark make up and piercing green eyes. She’d never been one for subtlety, and she’d run into a door not two feet from the older girl. Wanda had been intensely concerned until she realized that the poor student was blushing furiously. Y/N’s not sure how it even happened from there, but next thing she knows, Wanda was abandoning her boring recon job for the bashful, slightly bruised y/h/c.

Wanda barely listens to Vision as she watches Boone hurry down the stairs after he’s been locked out of the bathroom while you shower. Fletcher’s not in as much of a rush, but unlike the shepherd who takes a detour, she makes her way over to Wanda quickly. The redhead smiles as she watches her cat rub up against her legs.

“-is that alright, Wanda?”

Wanda’s frowning in a matter of milliseconds when she hears the last part of Vision’s question. She tries not to sigh in annoyance because it is too early to lose her temper, and she did promise Nat she’d try to be nicer to him.

“Is what alright?”  

Vision starts describing the staff changes at one of the businesses she owns downtown before she cuts him off with a groan. He did not bother her before 8 am for this. Sometimes she regretted giving him her number all those years ago.

“Vision, you know Kate is the one who decides all of that. Talk to her about it. I have to go.”

She doesn’t give him time to respond before she hangs up on him and promptly drops her phone on the counter. The sound startles Fletcher and she coos in apology before she kneels down to pick up the tabby. She kisses her face and tells her how much she loves her before she has to put her back down. She’s trying to get to your breakfast that Wanda’s set out on the kitchen island, and since she knows how much you hate cat hair in your food, she makes sure to keep Fletcher from it.

Wanda heads to the living room with a sigh, and drops down onto the couch. She listens to the muffled sound of water running upstairs and closes her eyes as she considers her day. She knows that she’ll only have a couple things that need her attention today. She needs to check in with her brother, and then Nat to see how things are going in her absence.

She’s tried to remove herself from the life that she’s known for the better part of 15 years. She practically grew up with the mob, but since her parents’ death, taking over, and meeting you she’s become tired. Wanda didn’t want to live that life anymore. She didn’t want to always be looking over her shoulder, and she didn’t want to put you at risk. After things had become serious between you two, she’d really begun to fear that you’d get caught in the crossfire. She’s made a lot of enemies in the years she’s been in charge of her father’s empire, and the last thing she wanted was them coming after you.

Despite making sure that you could take care of yourself and that you remain vigilant, she still worries about you. You still meet with Nat once a week to train, and Wanda makes a point of taking you to the shooting range once every other month. She hates that she’s had to prepare you for war which is why she decided to leave.

It was a long conversation with you and then an even longer one with her brother, Natasha, Yelena, Steve, basically their entire family. They’d been supportive yet cautiously optimistic because there was no telling how well their rivals would take this. Their tenuous truce with their top rival relied on the flimsy trust they had in one another to stick to their word and pre-arranged dealings.

Once Wanda handed over everything to Pietro, she moved to the mountains with Y/N and truly never wanted to look back. This of course was impossible because her entire family was still there, and she couldn’t simply go cold turkey on something she’d dedicated her life to for years.

You were glad to create a little distance between yourself and Wanda’s enemies, but you knew how difficult it was for Wanda to truly separate herself. You’re understanding of her need to check in frequently and go to meetings still to make sure the transition for Pietro is as smooth as possible.

Wanda’s eyes open at the sound of footsteps on the stairs and she sits up just in time to see you greet your excited dog. You laugh as you pet him and head toward Wanda despite the smell of breakfast that makes you want to go immediately to the kitchen.

“All okay, love?”

Wanda doesn’t realize that you’re asking about the phone call immediately and she frowns. Her eyebrows squish together and you can’t help but laugh at how cute she looks. You smile as you reach the couch she’s sitting on, and carefully straddle her lap with a slight head tilt.

“The call?”

Wanda immediately groans in annoyance before shaking her head and muttering something resembling ‘unimportant’ under her breath. You’re about to argue when she leans forward to kiss you and immediately, you’re a goner once her soft lips meet yours.

You honestly knew you were a goner the second you saw her. Wanda was someone you hadn’t seen before. You knew you went to a large university with over 40,000 students, but it was well into the semester, and you went to all of your classes. This meant that you knew who you’d see when you went somewhere at a particular time. Sure, there would sometimes be unfamiliar people here and there, but for the most part you knew what to expect. You were thoroughly convinced that you couldn’t have known who Wanda was just by looking at her, but you knew she wasn’t a student. Not only did she have a backpack with nothing in it, but she’d eventually claimed to be just coming out of a math class that you knew for a fact wouldn’t take place in the building you were in.

Instead of being weirded out or afraid by her piercing stare and her impassive expression, you were curious. You wanted to know more about this woman who was trying so hard to blend in. You’d had no idea what you were getting into of course, but you hadn’t regretted introducing yourself to her for a second. Not even when you got caught in that shootout…

Eventually, you manage to pull free from Wanda, not that you really want to, but you know it’s getting close to time to go to work. You sigh as you shoot her a knowing smile.

“It must be bad if you’re trying this hard to distract me.”

Wanda scoffs at this but doesn’t comment immediately as she runs her fingers through your wet hair. She’s regretting missing her chance to join you even more as she shakes her head with a smile.

“This isn’t me trying very hard, but I can show you what that looks like?”

You groan for multiple reasons. Mostly at the thought of what Wanda’s proposing, but also because you don’t have time for it before you have to go to work. You’re already pushing it, and you can tell from her teasing smile that Wanda knows it too. Eventually you sigh before grabbing her hand to pull her toward the kitchen with you. You want to at least get a chance to eat the food she’s made before you need to rush off to the hospital.

You had been working as a veterinarian at a local animal hospital for the past 6 years. After finishing school nearby, you’d found a job you loved and you worked 4 days a week. You only found it a little difficult to separate your professional life from your personal life at first. You’d never told anyone who you were married to because Wanda was very well known, and not for good reasons, so for your safety and hers, you lied. You still wore your ring, but your wife worked in business if anyone asked, and her name was Linda. She’d made fun of you for that one for a while, but it was the closest thing to Wanda that wasn’t obvious and that wouldn’t confuse you whenever you heard it at work.

“You know, we still need to replace that.”

When Wanda frowns you gesture to the living room and she doesn’t even have to look to know what you’re talking about. She rolls her eyes before smiling at you sweetly as you practically scowl at the picture.

When you first moved into this house, you’d loved nearly everything about it. The high ceilings, the open floor plan, the two sprawling decks on the second and third floor, and above all else, the view. You had access to the outside practically in every room and you loved it. Most of the time, if the weather was nice, you’d be outside on the decks or one of the many balconies with your dog reading, sleeping, or just taking in the view.

Your dreamhouse was near perfect. The only wrinkle was the ten-foot-tall horse painting that sat above the fireplace. It blended in with the stone behind it, but still sometimes you’d look up at the painting and roll your eyes. You were not a fan of horses because of the poor experiences you’d had with them while in school. For this reason, each time you saw it you joked about replacing it with an equally large painting of Boone. Wanda had just laughed at that, but she’d made a note to figure out if that would be possible.

“You know you love it, detka.”

Wanda watches amused as you just scoff before stuffing the last bit of your breakfast in your mouth. You look at your watch and sigh before chugging the rest of your coffee.

“I don’t have time to tell you how much I don’t love it.”

Wanda laughs before she accepts a quick kiss on the cheek as you make your way to the sink. You clean your dish quickly and start to put everything up, but Wanda stops you despite your protests. You usually clean because she ends up cooking, but you both know you don’t have time today.

“Don’t worry about it. Go get ready.”

You eventually sigh in defeat before accepting that Wanda’s not going to let you clean. You retreat up the stairs with Boone on your heels, leaving Wanda to clean the kitchen. Fletcher decides to help by jumping on the counters once again, but Wanda is quick to relocate all of the food before the tabby can get to it. She doesn’t seem to mind as she moves to the sink to drink directly from the faucet. Wanda just smiles at the adorable sight before grabbing her phone again. She’s agreed to meet with Nat later this morning, and she’s trying not to stress too much about it.

She hasn’t seen her friend in a couple of weeks. Work had been busy for her while things were transitioning and the older redhead wasn’t able to break away. For this reason, Wanda is going to her instead of meeting in neutral territory. She was only a little nervous about appearing at the compound for the first time since she’d handed over everything to Pietro. She knew that there had been some discord when news had first spread of her leaving. Most were confused and skeptical because really, who had ever successfully cut ties with the mob? Better yet, what mob leader had ever successfully left unscathed?

For all of the risk that being associated with the mob brought her, Wanda wasn’t ignorant to the dangers of leaving.  She reminds herself that she’s being as safe as possible without uprooting her entire life and making both of them leave everything behind. Wanda is grateful that Steve and Bucky still live almost within shouting distance. They’re about 3 miles down the road, and they’re still a large part of her security detail for you, even if you’re unaware of it. She knows you’d be mad about, but she’s not about to let you out of the house without a way to track you if necessary.

She doesn’t think about how upset you’d be if you found out as she shoots Nat a text. She’d agreed to meet at their headquarters, the compound, because she knew that on a Saturday morning that’s where Nat would be. Most likely by this time she’s finished training with her sister and was already working. Wanda was just getting used to sleeping in for the first time in years, and she realizes how spoiled she is when the idea of already working makes her cringe.

“Is it still alright to leave Boone with you?”

Wanda nearly jumps at the sound of your voice, and she spins around to see you at the bottom of the stairs dressed and ready for work. You’re finishing up your hair as you hold your shoes in between your knees. You’re in a hurry because you wanted to have time to read up on your first appointment, and you look to Wanda expectantly as you finish getting ready.

You’re wearing scrubs which are honestly some of the least flattering clothes you’re ever in, but Wanda is staring at you like she wholeheartedly disagrees.

“Wands?”

Wanda’s eyes snap to yours when she realizes that she hadn’t responded. She shakes her head before she remembers what you’d asked. She watches as you grab your keys and place them in your purse. You didn’t pack a lunch because you’re supposed to be back in time for that.

“Not at all. I mean yes. Boone can keep me company.”

You smile knowingly before kissing your wife quickly. You know if you linger, you’ll certainly be late. Wanda’s small pout as you pull away though is almost enough to make you stop caring.

“Thank you. I’ll see you soon.”

Wanda nods before watching you say goodbye to Boone with a kiss on top of his furry head. Boone follows you as you head to the garage, but you close the door before he can escape. He sometimes comes to work with you depending on what Wanda has planned for the day. He honestly enjoys seeing the other pets there and you like when you can have him at your desk with you after hours.

When Boone hears the garage door open and then close, he realizes he’s been left alone. He whines before turning back to Wanda. She can’t help but smile sadly at him as he comes to stand next to her. He really would follow you anywhere, and while he doesn’t dislike Wanda, he certainly doesn’t love her as much as he loves his Y/N. She decides that she needs to try and cheer him up, so she reaches out to scratch him behind the ears. He tilts his head back panting so he’s looking at the redhead with his tongue hanging out. Wanda just smiles wider.

“Do you want to go visit your second favorite person?”

Natasha sighs as she reads the file in front of her for the third time. She’s usually not this unfocused, but there have been a lot of changes recently. Not only have there been changes at the compound, the most notable being Wanda’s departure, but their rivals are starting to stir up trouble that she knows can’t be ignored. She’s currently reading up on an op that’s supposed to happen early next week, but she’s done this before and it’s routine for everyone involved. Even newbies can’t fuck up a simple weapons deal that badly.

Joining Wanda’s, now Pietro’s mob had been an easy decision. The twins were mourning the loss of their parents when she’d met them, but they’d been so welcoming and reassuring that they could protect her. Nat’s childhood hadn’t been the best and she’d ended up on the street fairly young, along with her sister, struggling to survive. They’d learned to steal and con people with too much money, and this had lasted for almost a year before it backfired. They’d accidentally chosen a mark that hadn’t taken well to getting swindled. He’d tried to hunt them down and even hired someone to take them out. They’d needed protection from him and Wanda had offered them both jobs after learning of their skillset.

She’d promised them they wouldn’t have to do anything they’d done while on the streets unless they wanted to. Since that day, Nat had been mostly focused on weapons and training new recruits, and Yelena dealt with the many, many drugs that traded hands.

Over the years, they’d grown close with the twins, and considered them part of their unconventional family. Wanda had introduced them to Y/n after they’d dated for close to a year and they’d both attended their wedding. Up until they moved, Yelena and Nat spent a lot of time with the couple, and Y/N came to think of the duo as her chaotic, older sisters. Not seeing them as regularly was hard to adjust to, but Wanda assured you that once things settle, you can visit the compound again.

Nat closes the file that she’s practically memorized at this point before she sits back in her chair with a sigh. She’s exhausted and the day has barely begun. There are always things to do, but since Pietro is still figuring out how to balance each arm of the extensive empire, there are fewer active operations happening.

In all honesty, there’s not much for Pietro to do when it comes to this. Wanda had trusted her staff to handle things and report back to her. Sure, she’d sometimes organize a hit or show up to a particularly important meeting, but overall, she made a lot of the behind-the-scenes decisions. She wasn’t often seen because she had other people who did the work for her, and then those people had people. It was an intricate web of employees she’d had to oversee, and now that was Pietro’s job.

Luckily everything was established, and he’d assisted Wanda for years so there wasn’t much for him to learn. He’d always had a hot head though and he was quickly learning that he couldn’t make rash decisions without there being unpleasant consequences.

“Has my brother killed anyone else since I left?”

Wanda knocks on Nat’s open door and the redhead sits up with a laugh at her predictable question. When news first started to spread of Wanda’s departure, some people had some rather nasty things to say about her. Some had called her weak and unfit, while others had decided to take it a step further and suggest she’d be better suited for a completely different line of work.

Being the overprotective brother that he was, Pietro had beat the men responsible within an inch of their lives. The message was clear, but this just made people underestimate the twin’s ability to lead when he is so easily provoked.

Nat stands up at the sight of her friend and her excited dog. Boone runs over to her and she’s quick to love on the shepherd as she shakes her head in response to Wanda’s legitimate question. Pietro had been too busy touching base with all of his department heads, aka his family, to listen to any new rumors that were spreading.

“Nah, he’s too busy right now.”

Wanda nods in understanding as she looks around the office while Nat’s still distracted by her slobbering dog. She notices the many reports that Nat’s gone through and the several stacks of ongoing ops that she’s still working through. She doesn’t get a chance to consider what these are for before the redhead notices her train of thought. She shakes her head as she moves away from Boone who’s leaning against her legs at this point to block Wanda’s view.

“What about you?”

Wanda frowns in confusion. She’s not sure what Nat’s getting at, but the redhead’s not in any rush to fill her in. She reaches down to scratch Boone’s ears before she turns back to the other redhead.

“What do you mean?”

Nat does her best not to laugh, but she ends up breaking when Wanda shoots her a glare after she fills the younger girl in. On her last day before Pietro took over, she’d visited the compound to make sure her brother didn’t need anything else. While she was there, she’d heard one of her employees speaking rather loudly about her, and speculating wildly on her personal life. That wasn’t new for her and she could easily ignore that despite how annoying. However, as soon as one of them mentioned her wife, she didn’t hesitate to storm over there and give him a piece of her mind. She’d grabbed him by his shirt and practically growled in his face as she threatened him against even thinking about you again.

She hadn’t seen him since, and for some reason she hadn’t even fired him.

“As far as I’m aware he’s still alive.”

Nat just rolls her eyes before she nods in agreement. She saw him the other day and just one look sent him running. It was well known that those close to Wanda were well-respected, but it was easy for some to forget that just because you weren’t present as often didn’t mean you weren’t included in that group.

“That’s good. I’m sure that makes Y/n happy. How is she?”

Wanda smiles as she sits in one of the chairs in front of Nat’s desk while the redhead watches her carefully. She hasn’t spoken to you in a while, and she missed seeing you around the compound. You were a calming presence wherever you went and it really helped everyone on rough days when Wanda was a little more on edge. Nat also knew that Yelena missed you a lot. She missed binge watching horror movies with you, and getting you into trouble with your wife when you do something too impulsive. The four of you, plus anyone else who was free, had dinner on Sundays together that were both relaxing and chaotic depending on who was cooking. They needed to have another one of those soon. Maybe tomorrow.

“She’s doing well. She loves the new house, but she misses everyone a lot.”

Nat smiles at the thought of how excited Y/n had been when she’d first seen the house that Wanda had finally chosen for the two of you. She’d been looking for something remote, but not too remote, secure and beautiful, and she believes she’d found it. The fact that you had been so head-over-heels for it made it that much better. Nat and Wanda had watched as you and Yelena ran to every balcony and on the top decks shouting excitedly to each other. It had been adorable, but almost disastrous as Boone chased after you too and you nearly toppled down the spiral staircase when you’d tripped over him.

“We miss her too. We need to get together soon.”

Wanda nodded in agreement because she certainly missed the weekly family dinners. She hadn’t realized how difficult it would be to leave a majority of her family behind to try and start a new one of her own with Y/n. She didn’t regret it, but she wished she could have found a better balance. Maybe with time they will be able to bring the two together again.         

“We do.”

Wanda sits up a little bit before she turns her attention to the reason why she dropped in. She glances again to Nat’s work on her desk before crossing her legs with a sigh. Boone lays down at her feet and starts to lick his paws as Nat returns to her chair to sit down.

“So, tell me how things have been going since I left.”

When you arrive at work, you’re surprised to find that your first appointment is already here. 15 minutes early. You sigh in defeat because you’d pushed the speed limit, exceeded it really, to get here in enough time, but it seems as if it wasn’t enough. You are equally disappointed to find out that the first appointment of the day is a very sick, geriatric dog that may or may not leave the hospital today.

You rush to put your things upstairs and speed read this dog’s medical records. Cancer. Of course. That would explain the sickly, skin-and-bones dog that you saw in the lobby. You sigh in defeat before you head back downstairs to chat with your assistant for the day.

The practice you worked at had three other doctors, but on the weekend, only one of you worked. You loved working with a team and especially during moments like this you enjoyed being able to discuss difficult cases. You knew that this wasn’t an option today, and after getting a rundown of what was going on with the patient from your assistant, you knew you had to go in there and figure out what the parents wanted to do.

You hated to start the day with a euthanasia, but it could only get better from here, right?

You couldn’t have been right, just this once? Your day continued to get worse after that first appointment that ended up being a euthanasia. For such a short day, you were surprised by how many moribund patients you were seeing. You had a couple of walk ins, one hit-by-car and a sick kitten come in within an hour of closing. You were definitely missing lunch and you felt bad about it, but you couldn’t get a free minute to let Wanda know.

Hopefully she was too busy with her own day to notice.

Wanda left her meeting with her brother with a sigh and a long hug to the slightly older Maximoff. She was pleased to hear how he was doing since she’d left, and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little relieved to see how well their empire still ran without her in charge.

She knew that Pietro was capable of taking over, that wasn’t the issue. She just wanted to make sure that his first weeks went well and that he was accepted by their business partners. So far there were no issues, and Wanda was keeping her fingers crossed that this continued to be the case.

She didn’t realize how late it was until she left Pietro’s office and headed back downstairs. She saw the horde of people that congregated around the lobby eating and catching up with friends. Wanda held Boone a little closer as she waded through the crowd to find Steve waiting for her near the exit. She hadn’t asked him to come along and she wasn’t quite sure how he figured out she was leaving, but she didn’t bother asking.

As a member of her personal security team, it was his job to follow her around and make sure she didn’t end up killed. For years he’d succeeded, and Wanda was grateful to have had his loyalty, and friendship for so long.

“All ready?”

Wanda nods as she follows Steve’s lead down the stairwell to the private garage in the basement. She lets Boone go first because he always runs down stairs, before she turns to the blonde with a curious look.

“Have you heard anything from Y/n?’

It was almost 2 o’clock, and given that her workday finished at 1, she figured that her wife would be home by now. She frowns when Steve shakes his head as he turns back to meet her gaze. They arrive to the bottom floor and Steve’s pulling the keys out of his pocket as he walks into the garage. He unlocks the door but just turns to her as she goes to her car beside his.

“No. Bucky said that she’s still at work.”

Wanda opens the back door for Boone and the shepherd jumps in quickly. He loves riding in the car and Wanda has to hurry to get into her seat so he doesn’t try and steal it from her. You let him ride in the front seat once, and since then he’s always tried to call shotgun.

“Still?”

Steve just nods before mentioning that he’d checked in about 10 minutes ago. Bucky was your personal security, but unlike Steve, he didn’t stick as close to you. In fact, 90% of the time you didn’t even know he was there. It was no secret who Wanda was married to, but she didn’t like to advertise it and put you at higher risk. She’d insisted that you give your maiden name to your employer, your friends who weren’t directly involved in her work, and anyone else who asked. It was best that people didn’t know about your ties to Wanda Maximoff.

You’re exhausted by the time you arrive home. You’re not sure how you did it, but every patient you saw in the last hour survived in your care. Most of them were transferred to an emergency hospital that could take care of them long term, but you’re just grateful that they didn’t die before they made it there.

You hadn’t expected today to be so brutal, and the stress of it made you just want to lie down. You arrive home and find that Wanda is still gone and you can’t help but feel disappointed. You could use an hour or two long cuddle session after the day you’d had.

Instead, you make your way upstairs and shed your dirty scrubs and throw them in the laundry. You change into the most comfortable clothes you can find before you head upstairs to the third floor. You want to sit outside and get some fresh air while you nap, and you don’t even bother to bring your phone as you open the sliding door to one of your favorite views.

This view is from the back of the house, but the mountains in the distance, and the field of green before you provide you with the calm you need right now. You plop down on the couch and stretch out with a groan. Your back aches slightly and you’re reminded once again of how you started your period. You noticed at work and it had only added to your poor mood. Now that you had a moment to breathe and really consider it, you realize what it means.

You wiped the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes before you curled up and attempted to get comfortable. It took a while, but you fell asleep only a few minutes before Wanda returns home with Boone and Steve.

Wanda had tried calling you once she knew you were home, but you hadn’t responded. She figured you were in the shower, and since Bucky had checked in, she wasn’t worried. At times like these, she just hated how far away they lived from the compound. It was almost an hour drive on good days.

When she finally arrived home, she thanked Steve and headed inside with Boone as the blonde drove off. Wanda hurried inside and looked around the kitchen only to see that you weren’t there. If she’d had to guess she would have figured you’d be eating by now. She noticed how quiet it was and figured you must be sleeping. She reaches out to Boone after he’s returned from his water bowl to tap him on the nose.

“Go find Y/n, Boone.”

The shepherd immediately leaves in search of his mom, and Wanda follows him up the stairs with a sigh. She watches as Fletcher comes strutting out of the bedroom before stopping to stretch in the middle of the hallway. Boone moves past the bedroom once he realizes you’re not there, and continues toward the next set of stairs. Wanda leaves Fletcher to her own devices as she follows Boone up the stairs to the third floor.

The third level of the house was mostly outside. There was a loft with access to a patio area on both sides of the house. You usually liked to look out behind the house which is why Wanda wasn’t surprised when Boone headed that way. He headed toward the left where there was a sitting area with a couple of couches before he started to paw at the sliding door as he sat down.

“Good boy.”  

Wanda rewards the shepherd with a scratch before opening the door to let him out. He’s on his way to you quickly, but he doesn’t wake you up and instead lies down in front of the couch you’re currently on. Wanda shuts the door behind her before following Boone’s lead. She smiles at the sight of you sleeping soundly, but it turns down quickly once she’s close enough to see your face.

You have tears running down your cheeks, and the thought of something being wrong has Wanda waking you up.

She sits down next to you before carefully reaching out to shake you awake. She’s learned the hard way that you don’t always wake up peacefully, and she’d hate to trigger your fight or flight after you’d clearly had a difficult day.

“Y/n? Wake up detka.”

You begin to stir at the sound of wife’s voice, and the gentle shake that brings you back to consciousness. You haven’t been out long, but you still feel groggy as you open your eyes and start to sit up. You don’t notice Wanda’s concerned look immediately as you look down and see Boone lying in front of you. You smile slightly before you turn to Wanda who is reaching out for you. You hold out your hand only to realize that she’s reaching for your face.

She wipes at your dried tears with a frown as she shoots you a questioning look.

“What’s wrong, Y/n? Did something happen at work today?”

You’re immediately reminded of why you came up here to hide in the first place. You’d been trying to find solitude to just rest and not think about this morning, but it was no use now. You knew from Wanda’s expression and how antsy she was that she’s nervous. She’s afraid that something bad happened, and you wish you could tell her that she was wrong.

You take a deep breath before you motion for her to sit closer to you.

“Today was awful. It was busy and depressing.”

Wanda frowns at the expected news. She knew that some days were worse than others for you. Sometimes days were filled with sick and suffering patients. It couldn’t be cute puppies and kittens all of the time. She’s about to speak up, but you cut her off with the other, honestly more upsetting part of your day.

“I also started my period.”

Your wife doesn’t say anything immediately, but you watch her face fall at the news and you have to look away. You hate the idea that you’ve disappointed her. You knew how much Wanda wanted children and you wanted to give them to her, but it seemed that it wasn’t in the cards for you right now. She reached out for your hand and squeezes it comfortingly. You had an appointment scheduled for a couple of days from now to confirm whether or not the IVF procedure had worked, but you both seemed to realize that you probably had your answer.

Despite how disappointed Wanda is by this news she isn’t mad at you and she wants to make sure you know this. She reaches out to turn you back towards her with a small smile.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I know you were excited.”

You shake your head as your eyes start to tear up again. You swear you thought it would take this time because you were feeling a little off, but apparently that was just your usual monthly.

“I was, and I know you were too. I’m sorry it didn’t work again. I’m just--.”

Wanda cuts you off with a kiss that she pours all of her love into. She doesn’t want you to blame yourself. Sometimes these things just don’t work out. She says this to you and waits for you to nod before she decides on her next move.

“You don’t have to apologize, love. Sometimes it just doesn’t take, but we’ll find out for sure in a couple of days. We can always try again if you still want to.”

You sigh heavily before nodding in agreement. Wanda’s right. She usually is. You hug her tightly as you consider how many times it might take before you can finally give your wife the family she wants so badly. You ignore the voice in your head that warns you that she might lose patience. That if you can’t give her what she wants, maybe someone else can.

As if reading your mind, Wanda pulls away and gives you a sweet smile before kissing your forehead.

“If IVF doesn’t work, there are always other options. Don’t lose faith, Y/n. We’ll figure this out together.”

The smell of cigarette smoke and old beer filled the room where Strucker sat with his boots up on the desk in front of him. The backroom of an old bar was hardly his first choice of places to conduct business, but sometime he didn’t have a choice. He could smell the rain at this distance from the drafty window and he breaths out another puff of smoke as he thinks about where he’ll go next.

He’s deeply paranoid and doesn’t dare stay in the same place for too long. He’s a man with several targets on his back, and he knows that even within his own territory, he’s only so safe. He’s heard whispers of Maximoff having people planted within his ranks, and he only trusts those closest to him with his safety.

Speaking of his right-hand man, he turns back to the stoic brunette with a frown. He had come bearing news that wasn’t surprising, but still a little concerning when he thought too much about it. He took another drag of his cigarette before snuffing it out in an already full ashtray.

“You say that she’s gone for good?”

He receives only a nod in reply before he elaborates on his answer.

“She’s no longer in charge, but she still checks in every now and then. The latest being this afternoon.”

Strucker takes a moment to consider this. He’d heard that Wanda was leaving for personal reasons, and despite the opportunity that this presented, not much has changed for him. The Maximoffs still kept to their territory and continued to conduct their business without interfering in his, but something didn’t sit right with him about this new arrangement.

He knew of Pietro, it was impossible not to, but he had never believed the older twin would get the chance to take over. Wanda had lorded over her father’s empire for the better part of 13 years, and she’s done an exceptional job of not only keeping it afloat after her parents’ untimely demise, but growing the business to almost twice its original size. Their reach extended throughout the city and he’d only lost territory as a result. Although stable right now, Strucker had a feeling that things will continue to change in their favor, and he had to act quickly if he was to put a stop to it.

Pietro was different than his twin in a lot of ways. Wanda was known for her smarts, business acumen, and her ability to project calmness whenever there was heat at the door. Pietro was the more unpredictable one. Although both Maximoffs were responsible for their own share of bloodshed, Wanda’s was more calculated while Pietro seemed to strike when provoked. He was too much of a loose cannon for Strucker to have much faith in him, and he knew their history put him at risk of being screwed over.

“What do you think about this new development, Brock?”

The brunette scowls as he thinks about the twins that he’s spent most of his life hating. If not for who they were now, then for their parents and how they’d treated him. He shakes his head as he crosses his arms and mutters something about it ‘not sitting right with him’. Strucker nods in agreement happy to hear that they are on the same page.

Neither of them wanted to see things change for the better of the Maximoffs. Wanda couldn’t leave her brother in charge and expect them not to have something to say about it.

Strucker swings his feet off the desk and his boots hit the ground with a loud thud. He sits up and takes a deep breath before he eyes his companion with a small smile. He knows about Brock’s feelings about the twins and how his loyalty to him is only strengthened by this hatred.

“What do you suppose we should do about it, dear friend?”

Rumlow barely hesitates as he had decided what he’d like done only days after hearing about Wanda’s retirement.

“I think we should send her a message.”

The next two days were near agony for you and Wanda. You’d been disheartened by your body’s failure to cooperate, and Wanda didn’t know how to help you when you insisted you were fine. You just needed to get through these next few hours until your doctor’s appointment so you can have the official word. Once you both have that, you can start to plan for the next steps instead of being stuck in limbo. You are almost certain you’re not pregnant, but you need a medical professional to tell you this.

You’re currently with Boone at the highest point of the house staring up at the sky. It’s a beautiful day out. The sky is clear except for a few white puffy clouds that remind you of cotton candy. It’s cool but not too cold, and you and Boone are lying on the couch just relaxing.

Well Boone is relaxing. He’s practically lying on top of you as you try to take your mind off of the past couple of days. You think about your family that you haven’t seen in too long.

You miss Yelena and Nat the most because you saw them the most when you still lived at the compound. You used to train with Nat twice weekly, and as much as you hated getting your ass kicked, it was nice to spend time with the redhead in her element. She truly was impressive and you’d find her scary if she wasn’t on your side.

Yelena would sometimes stop in while you were with Nat, and goad you into sparring with her next. That went about as well as with Nat, but at least afterwards you’d typically catch up over the most recent horror movie find.

You hadn’t seen them in a couple of weeks, and you missed them a lot. You missed them being just down the hall. You missed snuggling with Yelena’s dog Fanny, and teasing her about her not serious, but very serious relationship with Kate.

You close your eyes and take a deep calming breath. You will get to see them soon, and you hadn’t told them you were trying to get pregnant, so there was no pressure of having to break the news to them.

“Hey.”

You and Boone turn at the sound of Wanda’s quiet voice coming from behind you. You sit up and smile at the sight of your wife. She’s wearing her hair up and the sleeves of her shirt are rolled up above her elbows. She’s clearly been cooking and just the idea of food right now makes you feel a little bit better.

“I made lunch if you’re hungry?”

She knew from the look on your face that she didn’t really have to ask. She smiled as she watched your face light up as you smiled widely and hurried to stand. You nudged Boone off of the couch before you jumped to your feet. You realize you moved too quickly because your head spins a little when you take your first step.

The fuzziness disappears quickly, but not before Wanda takes notice of it. She’s by your side in an instant, and you feel her hands holding your arms as she steadies you. She shoots you a worried look that you just shake your head at. You’re fine. Just a little lightheaded.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, don’t worry. I just stood up too quickly.”

Wanda shoots you a skeptical look, but you just smile as you squeeze her hand before leading her back inside.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit down?”

You nod as you wave Boone over and point to the stairs so he’ll go ahead of you two. He is sometimes a little too overzealous on stairs and has run you over multiple times.

“I do, but not here. In the kitchen. Where there’s food.”

Wanda rolls her eyes at how adamant you are about eating, but decides not to argue any further. She knows how stubborn you are, and she just makes a mental note to watch you carefully until your appointment later.

Once you’re downstairs you can already smell what Wanda’s cooked for lunch. You walk a little faster when in search of your favorite meal, and Wanda chuckles under her breath as she follows you, albeit more slowly, down the last set of stairs.

“My favorite! Oh, I love you so much.”

Wanda smiles as she watches you grab two plates and pile some food onto them. Once you’ve grabbed silverware and napkins, you’re heading back over to her with a wide smile. You hand her one before shooting her a questioning look as you glance to the dining room table you usually eat at.

“Can we eat in the den?”

Your wife just smiles before nodding in agreement and following you out of the kitchen. Just off the living room, there’s another sitting room with a huge couch and a television. It opens up into the backyard, and eating in here seemed cozier than staying out in the living room. That and you didn’t have to worry about Fletcher jumping onto your food once you shut the door behind you.

You eat relatively quickly, and mostly in silence as you’re lost in your thoughts about what your appointment will hold. You feel guilty for being such a downer and you want to apologize again but it seems silly to before you know whether or not your foul mood will continue.

You look to Wanda who’s staring at her mostly empty plate lost in thought. You place yours on the table in front of you before reaching out for hers with a questioning look. You figure she’s done since she hadn’t taken a bite in almost 5 minutes, but you want to be sure.

“You done?”

Wanda is pulled from her thoughts by your question, and she just nods before she watches you free up her lap. Boone eyes the plates on the table but he knows better than to go after them. You shoot him a look before turning back to your wife. You reach out for her hand and pull her a little closer.

“What’s on your mind, beautiful?”

Wanda smiles half-heartedly at your question before she considers how she wants to answer. She wants to be honest with you. She hates lying and she knows that talking about this is the best way to get past it and figure out next steps. She doesn’t mind admitting to you that she’s upset about you not being pregnant. She really wants children, you both do, and this is the second time you’ve tried IVF.

“I was just thinking that if this next time doesn’t work, maybe I can try?”

You’re a little surprised by her offer because when you’d initially talked about having children, you both were adamant that it would be you to carry them. Wanda’s lifestyle was far too dangerous for her to walk around pregnant and less able to protect herself as the months went on. You hadn’t wanted to put her at risk, so you’d agreed to be the one to get pregnant.

Now that Wanda wasn’t working any more, she wouldn’t be in as much danger, but you still didn’t like the idea. Wanda can tell that you’re not entirely on board, and she’s not either, but she doesn’t want all of the pressure to be on you. She knows how it stresses you, and you’ve both been told how that’s not going to be good for you or the baby.

“I don’t know if that’s a great idea.”

There’s a lot more you can say, but you don’t want to argue right now, and neither of you know what the next best move is yet. You and Wanda will have an easier time figuring this out after your appointment today. Right now, you just wanted to relax. You tell Wanda at least the first part of this, and she nods because she realizes you’re right. You move closer to her before you pull back to grab the remote and hand it to her. You wrap your arms around your wife before kissing her cheek.

“Thank you for lunch. It was delicious.”

Wanda smiles at you lovingly before meeting you for a kiss. She drops the remote in her lap so her hands are free to wrap around your hips. She pulls you closer as she deepens the kiss and you moan at the feeling of her tongue against yours. You shift so you’re on your knees and can get better access to your wife. You move the remote off her lap before crawling into it with a sigh.

Wanda groans as you shift against her hips, the friction making her hold onto you tighter. You gasp at the feeling of nails digging into your skin, and Wanda takes the opportunity to break away from your lips and kiss down your neck. You squirm again and start rocking your hips against Wanda’s in a way that immediately has her tightening her hold on you and helping you move faster.

“Fuck.”

Your breath catches as Wanda continues to attack your neck. As her teeth tug at your skin, you grab a fistful of her hair to hold her there. Wanda growls as she moves to kiss behind your ear. Her hands find their way to your ass and she holds you still while she rocks her hips against yours making both of you moan.

“God, you’re so pretty, detka.”

You pull Wanda away from your neck and meet her for a bruising kiss. You release your hold on your hair as she grasps at your shoulders to bring you as close as possible. You start to unbutton her shirt and only just push it from her shoulders when you hear a loud yowl from outside the door. You ignore it and encourage Wanda to do the same as you sneak a hand down toward her shorts.

Your hand brushes her inner thigh before Fletcher yowls again, but this time it’s loud enough to draw Boone’s attention to the door. Up until this point the shepherd was ignoring you, but now he found someone to interact with and he starts to whine as he tries to open the door.

You groan under your breath, breaking away from your wife with a scowl as you look to your pets.

“I should have never gotten you that cat.”

Wanda slaps you playfully on the arm before she sits up and turns her attention to her still-screaming cat. She really did love Fletcher, but sometimes she was a bit much.

“Stop it, she’s just lonely. Poor baby.”

You roll your eyes before sliding off of Wanda’s lap despite your desire to stay put. Your pets have effectively killed the mood by yowling and whining for attention. Plus, Wanda would never refuse her precious baby of anything which is why she’s the one who gets to feed her when she comes calling at 4am.

You grab the discarded remote while Wanda opens the doors and lets the pair greet each other. Boone gets in Fletcher’s face and licks her while the cat’s attention is purely on your wife. You turn on the television letting them have their moment before you pat the space on the couch next to you.

“Boone, come here.”

“Don’t you dare, Y/n.”

Boone wasn’t allowed on the indoor furniture unless he sat on one of his blankets. He was relatively clean today, so you were going to try and get away with it, but one look at your wife who was shooting you a warning look all while hugging her cat made you second guess this decision. You sigh as you stand up and walk past your wife and into the hallway. You disappear for a minute to go find Boone a blanket, and you return with one of his favorites. You smile as he jumps up on you and starts to pant happily.

“Here you go, buddy.”

Wanda watches as you set the blanket down on the other end of the couch before patting it encouragingly. Boone jumps up immediately and lies down to face you as you collapse back onto the couch. You look to Wanda who’s still cuddling with the grey tabby and gesture to the space beside you.

“Are you going to join me?”

Wanda pretends to think about it before she returns to her spot beside you with a sigh. She sits down so you’re shoulder to shoulder before placing Fletcher down on the ground. She grabs one of the blankets on the arm of the couch and throws it over the both of you as you grab the remote again. You turn on the television and immediately go to one of Wanda’s favorite shows. She’s about to argue because she knows you don’t really like it, but you just shake your head as you lean against her with a sigh.

“It’s okay. I just want to sit here with you.”

So you and Wanda watch one of the redhead’s favorite sitcoms for the next hour. You end up lying down with your head in your wife’s lap, and you take a much-needed nap while Wanda manages to relax for a little while. She didn’t realize how stressed she was until now, and she’s grateful for the time away from her thoughts.

Your doctor is about 20 minutes away, and Wanda knows that it will take both of you at least that long to get ready. It took a while to find a doctor that was both good enough, and willing to be discrete for them. Wanda usually went with you to these appointments, but she had done her best to make sure she wasn’t recognized by anyone else that might be there.

You still go by your maiden name there even though you took Wanda’s when you got married. So far there hadn’t been any issues, but Wanda wasn’t one to slack on something as important as your safety, so she got her annoying disguise together while simultaneously texting both Steve and Bucky.

They wouldn’t be by their side for this because that would be too obvious, but Wanda wanted to make sure they were at least in the same area. She stifles a yawn as she pulls into the parking lot of the clinic, and you sit up straighter as if you weren’t just falling asleep. Wanda smiles as you hurry to get unbuckled and go inside. She places a hand on your arm to still you, and you turn to her to ask what’s wrong but she beats you to it.

“I just wanted to say something before we go in.”

You’re a little too high strung at the moment to give Wanda your complete attention, but you try to take a deep breath and focus on your wife who’s looking at you like you hung the moon.

“Yes?”

Wanda squeezes your hand before bringing it to her lips as she looks you in the eye.

“I want you to know that no matter what they tell us in there, I still love you more than anything.”

You offer Wanda a teary smile before kissing her deeply. You want to pull her over into your seat and show her how much you love her, but you can’t right now. You’re no longer exactly early for your appointment, and you both have been waiting for this for days. You break away from your wife with a sigh before kissing her heated cheek.

“Thank you. I love you too. You’re too good for me.”

The two of you make your way into the clinic and are greeted by your regular nurse within seconds. You still forget sometimes how quickly people wait on Wanda and how she has a way of making things happen. You lead her into your normal exam room and sit down next to her while Jessica gets things together.

“So how are we feeling today?”

The redhead had a feeling she knew based on just how silent the couple was being. She hated being the bearer of bad news, but she knew when she started in this field that things like this took time. You couldn’t rush them no matter how much you wanted to.

You decided to take the lead on this and Wanda just sat silently holding your hand as you spoke.

“Not great actually. I started my period the other day.”

From there you tell her about how you didn’t think you were pregnant and how you wanted to figure out next steps if this was in fact the case. You hadn’t taken a pregnancy test because well there weren’t any at your house and you hadn’t wanted to make a special, depressing trip to go get some. After saying this, Jessica digs around one of the cabinets and hands you one.

“Let’s make sure. We’ll get some blood from you in a minute, but taking this won’t hurt.”

You nod before you shoot Wanda a look before leaving the room. You make your way to the bathroom at the end of the hall with the test held tightly in your hand. This seems a little silly considering the different time frame for detection with this test, but you suppose Jessica may just be trying to help you out. Getting an answer today will certainly make it easier to accept the fact that you’re not having a baby.

Wanda watches as the other redhead grabs the supplies that she needs to collect your blood. She has a sinking feeling that you’re going to come back in here and confirm their suspicions, and she trying to mentally prepare herself for that.

“I’m sorry it’s not working out for you two yet, but you know what they say. Third time’s the charm.”

This is what Wanda thinks about as the two of you drive home after the appointment. You haven’t said much as you consider what you’re going to do for the rest of the day. You don’t want to spend the rest of your day off moping around. You work tomorrow, and you’d rather spend time with your wife and dog than go to bed and sleep your feelings away. You sigh as you look over to Wanda who’s been trying to figure out how to tell Nat that you’re not pregnant.

She’d told her friend that the two of you were trying, you hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up, but Wanda had wanted to confide in her best friend. For this reason, she’d told Nat when you started the most recent treatment and the redhead had known about this appointment today.

“We should have Nat and Yelena over.”

Wanda’s train of thought is cut off by your suggestion, and she has to remind herself not to give anything away. She shoots you a curious look because she’s not sure where you’re going with this. You’ve always loved a good dinner party, but given recent events, she’s not sure what kind of mood you’re in.

“Tonight?”

You nod as you smile at the thought of your friends coming over. You would ask Yelena to bring Fanny so she and Boone could play. Maybe even Natasha would bring her cat…You realize quickly that it’s already 4pm, and the duo is probably busy and most likely won’t be able to come. You know how busy Mondays usually were for Wanda, so you can only assume it will be busy for them as well.

“Never mind, it’s probably too last minute.”

Wanda called Nat the moment she got home. She let you go off and find Boone while she hurried to the kitchen to see what they had to throw together for dinner tonight. She knew how important food was to you, but you didn’t go grocery shopping like you normally would yesterday, and the fridge was severely lacking. She sighed and just started to brainstorm when Nat picked up.

“Hey, what’s up?”

Wanda checks to make sure that you’re not nearby before she retreats to the den. She slides the door shut behind her before she sighs in exhaustion. Nat immediately knows that something’s up, but she didn’t get a chance to ask.

“We just got back from the appointment. Y/n’s not pregnant.”

Nat curses herself for forgetting that this was happening today. She’d had a very busy weekend and she had forgotten how important today was for her friends. She hated that they didn’t have any luck this time, and she was trying to figure out what she could do to make them both feel better.

“Shit, I’m sorry. That really sucks.”

Wanda sighs in defeat as she nods in agreement. It really does suck. She had gotten her hopes up again, and despite knowing that this wasn’t going to happen easily she wanted you to be an exception. She supposed it wasn’t fair to put this pressure on you when she knew there wasn’t much you could do to make this happen any faster.

She shakes her head at the thought before she moves to sit down at the counter. She’s exhausted and could fall asleep right now.

“Thanks. We’re both disappointed, but I think Y/n is feeling guilty.”

Nat frowns at the thought of you taking the blame for this. It’s so like you, but it’s definitely not warranted in this situation. Granted, sometimes you should take blame for things, like Yelena getting a dog, but this isn’t one of those times.

“That’s no good. What can we do to help?”

Wanda smiles immediately at the redhead’s question. She knows she doesn’t have much time when she hears your and Boone’s footsteps on the second floor.

“What are you and Yelena doing tonight?”

Part 2

[dollieguts1010]

DOGDAY HEADCANONS

• He's 13 years old

• He's Omnisexual and Polyamorous

• His pronouns are He/Him/His

• He has ADHD

• He's in love with Craftycorn

• He's best friends are Catnap and Bobby Bearhug

• Kickin is the a brother to him

• He's the oldest in the group

• He's a mixed breed of Cocker Spaniel, Springer Spaniel, and German Shepherd

• He's allergic to chocolate

• He's constantly carrying at least 2 or 3 epi-pens just in case if he eats any chocolate

• There's been a couple of times where Dogday has almost died because he accidentally ate chocolate

• He often stims a lot because of his ADHD

(he usually stims by barking, woofing, and howling, moving and jumping around, constantly wagging his tail, panting a lot, and biting is chew toys)

• He's known Kickin since he was a puppy

• He loves vanilla milkshake

• His favorite food is bacon cheeseburgers and curly fries

• He has Thantophobia (the fear of losing someone you love)

• His father died when he was 10 years old

• He's scared of thunderstorms

• He was there for Bubba when he was morning the death of his parents

• Even though he's a leader of the group, he thinks that Bubba should be the leader instead of him

• He has permanent happy face

• His tail is constantly wagging

• He will do ANYTHING for his friends, no matter the cost. He's not afraid to get in a physical or verbal fight for his friends

• He's a bit naive when it comes to trusting strangers

• He tends to have a bit of a problem of being a bit of a people pleaser and not saying "NO"

• He has a small omnisexual flag right above his bed

• He was to have a crush on all of his friends

• He may be constantly in a cheerful mood however, he gets easily stressed out when his friends fight. He will literally will stay up all night trying to fix the problem

• He rarely ever yells at his friends

• He doesn't really like cussing, he only cusses when he's PISSED.

• He made all of his friends pendants necklaces

• He doesn't like crying in front of his friends because he doesn't want them to be worried (just like Bubba)

• He only cries when he's in his bedroom by himself while cuddling his little bone plushie

• He knows how to drive and has his driver's license, even though he's only 13 years old

• Whenever he's going on a car ride he'll stick his head out the window and stick out his tongue

• He loves going on roadtrips with his friends

• Him, Bubba, and Kickin help out Picky with farm work

• He let's the girls put makeup on him and doll him up

• He likes peanutbutter cookies

• He taught Kickin how to ride a skateboard

• He love fireworks however, he hates how loud they can be

• His favorite sports are basketball, football, and tennis

• Him and Bobby make friendship bracelets for everyone

• He has a rainbow bracelet that has all of his friends pendants on it and he wears that thing EVERYWHERE

• He likes helping out Bobby with her makeup

• His sun necklace was gifted to him by his father

• His sun necklace glows in the dark

• Sometimes he'll go to the store and buy Bubba some new books and stem toys

• He likes to draw with Crafty

• He likes doing arts and crafts with Crafty

• He likes watching Crafty painting or drawing

• He's constantly complicating Crafty's artwork

• He has a special box that he puts all of Crafty's artwork in

• He loves braiding, brushing, and styling Crafty's hair

• He likes to watch anime and disney movies with Crafty

• Him, Kickin, and Bobby are the personal cheerleaders in the group

• Him and Bobby are the group therapist

• His fur is RIDICULOUSLY SOFT.

(imagine petting a silky cloud. that's pretty much what Dogday's fur feels like)

• He's a total social butterfly! He can make new friends with ease

• He's also a social magnet like- whenever he's out in public people tend to notice him and wants to talk to him

• He's multilingual and he knows sign language

• He's a amazing singer and dancer

• He's not afraid to sing and dance in front of his friends

• He likes all genres of music

• He likes reading comic books

• He gets incredibly sensitive when someone brings up his father

• He has an amazing relationship with his mother

• He likes helping out his mother with cooking and baking

• His favorite activity to do with his mother is painting and playing games

• He may be a cute little doggy but once he realizes he's in danger, he's no longer cute. He'll bite, scratch, scream, and bark at you. Until he has the chance to run away

• He loves flowers! Every time someone gives a flower he'll have a massive goofy smile on his face while blushing a little bit

• He loves giving and receiving compliments (he doesn't often expect to receive compliments but whenever he does get complimented, he gets very excited)

• When he gets complimented, His pupils will dilate, he will have the biggest smile on his face, and his tail will start wagging like crazy

• He likes hugging his friends as tight as he can but if they don't like being touched then he will respect their boundaries

• If his ears are in the way, he'll just put them in a ponytail

• Sometimes when it's a full Moon he'll go outside and howl at the Moon and sometimes Kickin will join him to not make him feel left out

• He likes playing frisbee with Kickin

• He likes to go to the beach with Kickin

• He helps Kickin film his at-home action movies and sometimes even joins in

• Has a great relationship with Charlotte (Kickin's mother) and sees her as his second mother

• He likes hosting sleepovers

• He great at playing the acoustic guitar

• He loves the summer time

• He often comforts Catnap when he has a nightmare

• He likes playing tag with Hoppy

• He does his best to cheer people up

• Just like any other dog, he will sniff a potential new friend

• He likes getting headpats and being called a good boy, just like any other dog

(don't be weird about it)

• His father made him a plush bone toy that he still sleeps with at night

• He often has nightmares about his father's death or about his friends being murdered in brutal ways

• He owns 3 different kinds of skateboards and 2 different kinds of rollerblades

• Each wall in his clubhouse is covered in picture frames of his friends

• He sorta freaked out when he realized he was in love with Craftycorn

that's all for now!

*I will add more later*

[catsaystrickortreat]

☆ Hi! This is my blog :)

☆ Non binary - Agender - Xenogender user

☆ They/It/Xe ( They/Them, It/it’s, Xe/Xem/Xeirs)

☆ Spiritual & Psychological therian - Silver fox - Black cat - Light grey tabby cat - Ferret - Pine marten - (Dogfish?? Otter?? German shepherd Puppy??)

☆ Omnisexual - Demiromantic

☆ Goth - Tarot reader - Nu metalhead

☆ New Zealander - English

☆ Neurodivergent!

☆ Furry :)

☆ I am an age regressor, please be kind!

☆ On this blog I am gonna make mostly stimboards / Moodboards, and I am happy to take requests!

☆ I am fully supportive of therians, otherkin, fictionkin, conceptkin, xenogenders, neopronouns, copinglink, etc, so feel free to request a board based on your kin/ identity!

☆ When it comes to character/ fictionkin boards, if I don’t know the fandom/ media well might not do it, just due to unfamiliarity with the content, but feel free to still request or message :)

☆ I am unlikely to do any anime requests, sorry!

☆ No gore/death/blood/needle themes - skulls/ bones/ graveyards are ok

☆ Nothing from any horror media (Halloween related things are more than ok though)

☆ I will not do anything religious or angel based

☆ I have the right to turn down a request if it makes me uncomfortable!

☆ I am busy, so please be understanding if your request takes a while to get done !

☆ My requests will almost always be open, but just based on my situation at the time some requests may take longer to get done :)

☆ My ask/ request box is being weird so please tell me if it isn’t there or not working via dm !

☆DNI!!! Nsfw, zoophiles, homophobic, transphobic, anti-xenogenders, anti-neopronouns, Racist, xenophobic, conservative/right wing political views, antisemitic, anti-therian, anti-alter human, anti-furry, ableist, pro Israel, anti-religion, Islamophobic, Pedos/ MAPS, pro shippers, anti agere, pro life, etc

[maxsix]

Ad Astra: The Theory Of Relativity | An Interstellar Ateez story Part I | Part II | Part III | Park IV | Part V (Words 4413, Warnings: swearing)

"Okay, I’ve got some news.” Hongjoong says as he sits down at the dinner table. “The NASA flight team offered me a job training their new pilots and um, I said Yes.”

“Yeah, we already about knew that.” Wooyoung says as he attempts to rewire a black and green lego robot named ‘Duke Lego’.

Yunho perks up in attention, leaning forward to peer closely at his older brother’s face, no doubt searching for signs of hidden reckless agendas. It reminds Hongjoong of the German Shepherd puppy they had when they were kids. 

“When you say ‘job’, what does that mean exactly?” 

“It’s just training some new pilots in a simulator. The facility is only half an hour away from here. I won’t be gone for long, just once a week. I’ll still keep my old job but we could really use the extra money.”

“Can I come?” Wooyoung asks, carefully resting Duke Lego on the table.

“No.” 

“Why not?! You said I could!”

Yunho observes his brothers with judgement. “Seriously, Hongjoong? You said he could go? To NASA? This guy? Because that’ll end well.”

“Shut up Yunho!” Wooyoung scowls. “I know more about this than you!”

Hongjoong waves his hand to silence the bickering. “My first day is tomorrow. It’ll just be meeting the pilots and going through some routine training. Nothing crazy.”

“So I could technically go.” Wooyoung reasons, “If it’s nothing crazy? I won’t touch anything I swear!”

“Still no.”

“Will Seonghwa be there? Can I show him my robots?”

“No!”

“Wait, what if I want to go too?” Yunho interjects. “Nobody asked me if I wanted to go!”

“Neither of you are going!” Hongjoong groans. “At least, not on my first day. I’m just telling you all this so you know where I’ll be. The Park Uncles will watch out for you while I’m gone.”

“We don’t need a babysitter.” Yunho rolls his eyes. “Well I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Wooyoung echoes. 

“Sorry about your personal opinions on that but you’re both going to the Mill, they still need a lot of help with all the summer holiday orders. I’ll see you at around dinner time.”

Both younger brothers look like they want to keep protesting but when nothing else comes out, Hongjoong dismisses them to their rooms for the night so he can prepare himself for tomorrow. 

He’s already read the information pack front to back, several times, but NASA seems to have left out one important detail: what on earth they expected him to wear. It has him standing in front of his small closet for a good five minutes, deciding nothing but concluding it’s been at least year since he’s actually bought new clothes. 

Apart from the one black suit reserved for weddings and funerals, there’s a few plain t-shirts, cargo pants at various stages of life, assorted shirts he never wears, random items that Yunho had outgrown and his favourite dark brown leather jacket. He has two pairs of work boots, identical except for their colour. It wasn’t much of a selection. 

But then again, he hasn’t had to dress for any other occasions lately. As much as Jonghoon hassles him about it, dating in the time of global death is just not in the cards, not now and likely not ever. 

Ascending down the stairs the next day, he knows he’s worn the wrong thing because instead of the usual ‘good morning’ he’s just greeted with a burst of laughter. Maybe the white button down shirt was slightly too tight across the chest and maybe the black trousers had shrunken to the point where even walking was a little difficult.

“You look like an accountant Michelin man.” Yunho cackles. “You can’t seriously go out like that!”

Wooyoung’s wheezes don’t even pause to comment and Hongjoong wonders if he might choke on his breakfast at some point. 

Defeated, he trudges back upstairs and settles for his least grease stained black cargo pants, the least faded black t-shirt and his leather jacket. Maybe he’ll be under dressed but at least he’ll feel like himself and it’s what the boys are used to seeing him in.

“Is this better? It’s still professional right?” Hongjoong asks, pointing to the new outfit. “Do I look like I know my shit?”

“Well, kind of?” Yunho nods, answering truthfully as he chews his toast. “But do you actually know your shit?”

Hongjoong lets the swearing slide this one time. “Yeah, of course. Kind of.”

Wooyoung stops eating breakfast long enough to tell Hongjoong that he looks smart and professional enough for NASA. With his head of dishevelled black hair and an old crumpled t-shirt stolen from Yunho, the fourteen year old isn’t exactly a qualified fashion expert but the approval is appreciated nonetheless.

“Thanks, Kiddo.” Hongjoong smiles. “And that’s why you’re my favourite.”

“Hey!” Yunho protests before deciding that the marmalade loaded toast in his hand was more important. “Ugh, whatever.”

The wall clock reads 8 a.m and Hongjoong wants to get to the facility early, just in case. He leans down to bite the opposite end of Yunho’s toast and ruffle his hair before rushing out the door, only grimacing once at the obscene amount of marmalade he just swallowed.

“Uncle Moonie will come get you in an hour. Be good. I’ll see you at dinner.”

He’s waved off with a duet of low energy mumbles, as if he was just leaving for a trip to the local grocery store and not a highly classified job at NASA.

The truck is just about to set off when Hongjoong notices an envelope on the dashboard, ’LEGOjira’ is scrawled across the front in Wooyoung’s handwriting and inside there’s a small black and red robot figurine shaped like the famous prehistoric monster.

He sticks it on the dashboard.

Teenagers.

*

The facility is a large converted warehouse that used to manufacture car parts and machinery. NASA gutted it clean and trucked in the simulator and flight control room for the instructors. It all sits on a large plot of government acquired land that’s surrounded by gravel, concrete and layers of metal fencing. Trying to appear unobtrusive and nondescript always had the opposite effect but then again, maintaining a certain public facade wasn’t something many people cared about these days, even at corporations like NASA.

There are three security gates going in and Hongjoong holds onto his ID tag like his life depended on it. The security guards here still wear the same crisp regulation uniforms and Hongjoong definitely feels like he and his dusty truck are underdressed.

NASA told him he would be granted full security clearance here, a fact which does nothing to stop the nausea from churning around his stomach as he drives through. Maybe his mind has tried to move on but his body still remembers the trauma of training. NASA also never specified how much of his disobedience would show up on his records and he half expects something unfavourable to ping on a computer somewhere along the way.

“Name and ID please sir.”

“Kim Hongjoong. I’m here for the flight training.” 

He hands over his ID and watches nervously as the guard confirms his name on the electronic database, reads the screen excruciatingly slowly, eyes him for a few intense seconds, before handing back the ID badge and buzzing the gates open. 

“Carpark is to the left Mr Kim.”

There’s another ID check point on the other side of the carpark. Then another at the entrance to the building itself. Nothing pings and nobody has to know about the way his stomach unknots itself in relief.

Once the truck is parked and Hongjoong is walking towards the simulation centre, he sees a young boy, he guesses around Yunho’s age, running ahead of him in a hurry. The sight of the familiar blue training jumpsuits causes something to catch in Hongjoong’s chest and his footsteps falter on the pavement. Memories of his training years flash through his mind again, some good, some terrible, and while it’s not something he could call PTSD, it’s not exactly without complicated feelings either.

“Kim Fucking Hongjoong.” A familiar deep voice calls out from behind. 

He knows that voice.

He’d recognise that voice anywhere in the universe. 

“Choi Fucking Seungcheol.”

A grin takes over his face as he turns to take in the unexpected appearance of his old friend and mentor: still tall, still committed to black shirts that could never fully contain his broad and solid chest, still letting his dark hair grow longer than it should be, still an imposing presence despite the lopsided smile he’s wearing now. 

Still hugs like a bear. 

“What are you even doing here?!” Hongjoong shakes his head in disbelief. “Did they drag you out of retirement, old man? How did they even find you?"

“I’m only three years older than you, you little shit!” Seungcheol reprimands gently with a push. “They must be real desperate dragging two decommissioned liabilities back.”

“They didn’t tell me you’d be here.” Hongjoong says. “If I knew, I would’ve said yes a long time ago.”

“They didn’t tell me either.” The older man says as they walk to the simulation centre together. “Typical NASA. Those sneaky bastards.”

“How did they even find you? I heard you skipped town once your brothers graduated.”

Seungcheol nods again. “I did. We moved a few towns over, made a life running the textile plant there. Too many bad memories here, you know? But they found me in the end. Guess you can never really outrun your past, huh?”

Hongjoong hums in understanding. 

"I’m sorry about your family. I’m sorry we didn’t keep in touch, it’s just been -“

Seungcheol claps him on the shoulder and chuckles. “Don’t apologise. Things have been a nightmare for everyone. I didn’t want to be found, you could’ve tried your best and I wouldn’t have been ready to come back. I told the first three suits they sent to fuck off but gotta hand to that last snotty one for his persistence. How’d they get you?”

“Got caught at their headquarters accidentally.”

“Breaking and entering? Again? Of course you did.” Seungcheol shakes his head laughing. “Some things never change.”

Hongjoong shrugs, smiling. “So have you been okay though?After …everything?”

“Can’t complain. The knee is fucked up now so I doubt they’ll actually let me fly again but the brain is still in working order so I guess they want me to use it to train these new kids. What about you? I’m sorry to hear about your family too.”

“Well, it’s been a lot since I left training but me and boys have been okay. I can’t complain much either.” 

They finally reach the entrance to the simulation centre, Seungcheol pauses to swipe his badge and gives Hongjoong another lopsided grin. 

“Ready to meet the next bunch of psychopaths?”

“Well, they can’t be any worse than us.”

*

There are eight basic trainees in total. Five males and three females. All far too young. All wearing grim serious expressions on their faces as they are introduced to their new instructors by Yeosang, who was no doubt sent by the Directors to watch over the proceedings, in case it was another PR disaster. Hongjoong doesn’t mind, he’s just relieved to see another familiar face. 

“As you know, Dr Lee and Commander Song have been urgently required on another mission. I would like you to welcome your new flight instructors, Commander Choi Seungcheol and Pilot Kim Hongjoong. They have updated your flight manual and I expect you to treat them with the same level of respect here.”

Hongjoong doesn’t miss the way there’s a ripple of surprised murmurs when their names are called out. He knows it’s not all positive, rumours travel far and their reputations tend to crash into rooms before they do.

Yeosang watches the group closely but doesn’t pause, instead he launches straight into orientation of the venue and vital safety procedures before allowing the trainees a small break to inspect the rest of the facilities. Hongjoong tries to remember if he ever looked that young, optimistic and impressionable.

He wonders when he suddenly felt so old. 

Yeosang ushers them into the simulation control room, a smaller replica of NASA’s actual flight control deck, where they would be spending most of their time running the simulations.

“Thank you both for honouring your commitment to the mission. I apologise for not informing you of your fellow instructor’s identity but well, we weren’t sure if you’d have agreed to it otherwise.”

“Bit of a risky gamble isn’t it Kang?” Seungcheol says, “Thought NASA was all about mitigating risks.”

“Last time we tried to contact you, you told us to go to hell, repeatedly. It was always going to be a risk."

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Ok listen, you dragged me out of retirement for this so cut to the chase and give us the run down on this squad. What do we need to know about these kids?”

Yeosang purses his lip at the demanding tone but nevertheless, keeps his cool long enough to provide them with a folder containing the profiles of each trainee.

Hongjoong flips through each one before something catches his eye. It’s the profile of the boy he saw running past him this morning. 

“Woah, woah, wait a second.”

“What is it?”

“It says here that this kid is sixteen.” Hongjoong says, pointing to the profile page of the male trainee. 

Seungcheol flips to the same page and starts chuckling to himself. “You gotta be kidding me.”

“He’s way too young, Yeosang.” Hongjoong says, shaking his head. “You can’t put a sixteen year old into orbit! I get that these are desperate times and we’re the last two people to talk about regulations and ethics but this is a step too far.”

Yeosang folds his hands neatly in his lap and takes a breath, like he’s been prepared for this question all his life.

“He is sixteen and it is his legal right to apply for training. He will not be the first selected for active duty and he will not be approved to fly until he is at least eighteen.” Yeosang says in what Hongjoong now knows is his “NASA PR” voice. 

“May I remind you that while we need pilots in the immediate present, we also need to plan ahead for future missions. Training the reserves starts now."

“He’s younger than Yunho!” Hongjoong says in exasperation as he scans the rest of the profile. “Where did you find this one anyway?”

“He’s an orphan.” Yeosang says plainly, causing them both to look up. “His parents died in a farming accident a few years ago. He’s alive because he was at school that day. There were no surviving relatives so he was cared for by a generous family then enrolled in the NASA Children’s Space Program once his academic and physical abilities were made known.”

Since the global crop pandemic everyone had a sad backstory to tell, but even Hongjoong regrets asking this one. 

“He grew up at NASA.” Yeosang continues. “He’s as familiar with our facilities and operation protocols as you two are. It wasn’t a random choice born out of desperation, he demonstrated potential and earned his way into this program. Don’t forget that you were both also teenagers when you joined.”

“That was eight years ago.” Hongjoong counters. “You know it was a different time then. We had strict training regimens that were monitored by multiple departments, it wasn’t just two de-commissioned pilots in a warehouse.”

“I assure you that we have tried our best to replicate the rigorous training program that you were subject to. The trainees have all passed the physical boot camp without complication. Due to their age, the younger ones haven’t completed the theory component yet but Seonghwa, Doctor Park, has been tutoring them and we expect they will do well on their final assessments.”

“It’s not good enough to do well.” Seungcheol says with a frown. ‘Doing well’ barely gets you into the air. Doing the best is what gets you back home in one piece. Is your selection criteria still a total nightmare? Are they still getting regular psychiatric assessments?”

“Yes.” Yeosang confirms. 

“Good. They’ll need it.”

“The report from Dr Lee and Commander Song says they have all passed basic training and familiarisation with the simulators.” Hongjoong reads out. “But nobody got a perfect score or anything close to it.”

“That’s why you’re both here.” Yeosang reminds them. “We need to separate the best from the good. Half of this group won’t make it. We all know that and so do they.”

“You think your sixteen year old will?”

Yeosang smiles again, an unsettling combination of threatening and serene. “Depends if his instructors are any good.”

*

The first training session was mostly spent on familiarisation with the simulator in its new home and ironing out any electrical issues. Between short civil exchanges and longer technical lectures, there wasn’t much time to hear any whispers about either instructor’s dismissals but Hongjoong can sense the unease. They don’t trust Seungcheol. They don’t trust him. 

NASA never revealed how much of their dismissal was made public. The disciplinary hearings had been private and a team of lawyers made sure the case never made the news but there were still plenty of rumours. Hongjoong knows the trainees want to ask but it’s not the type of information he wants to provide to people he doesn’t yet trust either. 

Between the two of them, Seungcheol is the more experienced: a flight prodigy at the age of seventeen, military pilot at eighteen and in possession of an IQ that made his academic career look easy. He had led several successful missions and logged in twice the amount of flight hours as his nearest counterpart at the time. With such a rare gift and understanding of aerodynamics, Seungcheol was consider on track to become one of NASA’s most decorated commanders.

Hongjoong had met Seungcheol in the first month of his aerospace training, he was fresh out of military service but still lacked any real discipline. NASA had accepted him based on his test scores and aptitude for flying, hoping that the brutal training program would smooth out his wild edges and if that failed, then giving him the toughest mentor in the program would hopefully do the rest. 

It was a gamble that paid off.  

Seungcheol was known for being academically and physically intimidating. Around the same time, Hongjoong was developing his own reputation as the uncontrollable rebel in the program. They had few actual friends and maybe it was due to this that they hit it off; with Hongjoong being one of the few trainees who refused to be intimidated by someone else’s brilliance and Seungcheol endlessly amused by the younger trainee’s stubbornness. 

“An immovable object meets an unstoppable force.” Professor Park had once said, joking that they were the only two who could deal with each other without causing injury to public property.

Seungcheol had set him straight as best he could. Not with gentle coddling words or shouting loud threats but leading by example and teaching Hongjoong what it truly meant to work hard, bear responsibility, accept consequences and ultimately, become a man of service. 

But he couldn’t teach him everything in the time they had. 

There’s no cure for a rebellion in the blood.

When Hongjoong was dismissed for disobeying direct orders during a mission, Seungcheol had stood up at the disciplinary hearing to call the Directors out on their hypocritical bullshit. It had been a career death for the both of them: Hongjoong was denied any qualifications and Seungcheol’s once promising career abruptly came to an end. 

They were both forced to move on, and they have for the most part, any bitterness that still lingered didn’t have much of a target anymore. The Board of Directors from that time were now either dead or retired. There really wasn’t anyone left to complain to.  

“How do you want to run the simulations?” Seungcheol asks him now.

“You lead.” Hongjoong replies. “You have more experience.”

“You just want me to be the Bad Cop.”

“Well, if the shoe fits….”

“Okay, you punk.” Seungcheol snorts. “In that case, I want to start with scenario three. I don’t want to do the exercises in order, what’s the point of simulation training if they know what to expect.”

Hongjoong smiles, “Just admit that you want to see them sweat.”

Seungcheol feigns offence, placing a hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “I am here to teach. If someone cries along the way, then we’ll have a whole day to discuss the hazards of tears in space.”

It doesn’t exactly go down well. 

“Commander Choi?” 

“Yes?”

“We haven’t completed scenario two yet.”

“I know.” Seungcheol says, “We will be completing the scenarios out of order. If you have memorised the new manual then none of this should be a surprise.”

“But-”

The trainee is quickly silenced when Seungcheol quirks an eyebrow in their direction. 

“Any other relevant questions? No? Good. You’ll be flying solo, oldest to youngest, let’s get to it.”

Scenario three involved problem solving through a failed launch procedure. Each trainee was expected to demonstrate proficiency in running the launch sequence check and identifying the critically abnormal fuel temperature in the quickest time possible, anything beyond five minutes would be considered catastrophic in real life and an immediate fail in simulation.  

“Kang Seulgi. 4:15. Your launch routine lacks focus and precision, stop wasting your time.”

“Kim Mingyu. 4:00. You are too slow to report, it would’ve cut your time by more than 10 seconds. I expect faster communication next time.”

“Kang Taehyun. 3:50. You almost missed two other launch check points. Stick to your routine. Bad habits raise bad pilots.”

One by one, they watch the pilots navigate through the simulations with varying degrees of success. They’ve been decent enough, all able to pass, but there’s no standout. 

Seungcheol sighs and sits back in his chair, his once crisp shirt now creased and rolled up to his elbows. “This isn’t good enough. They’re not good enough. Maybe they won’t die at launch but this type of crew won’t survive a single orbit if they stay like this.”

Hongjoong hums in thought, making the notes for their evaluation report. Part of him agrees with Seungcheol’s frank assessment: the young trainees were inconsistent, either making mistakes in haste or slowing down in panic. The other part of him knows this is basic training, there was still advance training and final flight training to go. 

But bad habits do raise bad pilots and now wasn’t the time for any leniency. 

Still, they couldn’t both be the Bad Cop. 

“At least we know what we’re working with now. It’s something to build on.”

“We haven’t had a total disaster yet, so I’ll give them that, but we were both minutes faster than this. You did this in under three minutes.”

“Well, you did it in under two.” Hongjoong says, flipping to the final candidate. “Ready to see the last kid?”

Seungcheol nods. “This should be interesting.”

They restart the simulation and watch as a dark head of hair and some thin broad shoulders make their way into the booth. 

With the lights dim, sound playing and motion detector track running, the simulation was hyper realistic and easily overwhelming for new trainees. Every warning light was accurate, every sound and alarm identical to the real thing and if you crashed, the impact was very much felt. 

“This is flight control, proceed with your launch check.”

The kid is quick to process, very quick, and follows a launch check routine that feels eerily familiar. He reports the abnormal fuel temperature within two minutes but then stalls to call mission abort. It pings something in Hongjoong’s head that both thrills and concerns him. 

“This is flight control, you have a panel of warning lights and alarms. What’s your status report?”

“The fuel temperature is not in target range. I ran diagnostics and all the other equipment appears to be functioning correctly.”

“What is your next step pilot?”

“I…..I need to correct the fuel temperature.”

Seungcheol looks over to Hongjoong with a curious expression but lets the simulation continue.

They watch as the teenager tries, without success, to turn off all the warning alarms. He is methodical but frustrated and quick to lose his cool, a trait that only years of training and experience can overcome.

“This is flight control, there are critical error warnings on our end, what is your status report.”

“No, I can do this!” The trainee shouts, sounding every bit the sixteen year old they read about. “Sorry, Flight control, I… I ran diagnostics on the fuel temperature again but I can’t get any updated readings on it, I don’t know if it’s working or not, the telemetry is unreliable…”

As the clock counts down, Hongjoong is muttering for the teenager to just give them the right answer. 

He barely makes it. 

“Flight control, launch is futile. Request to abort mission!” 

“This is flight control, mission abort confirmed.”

Seungcheol takes his headset off and sits back with a strained sigh. “What a damn maniac. Remind you of someone?”

“He does.” Hongjoong nods, concerned but fascinated why their youngest trainee would even try something usually reserved for advanced flight training. “He was trying to save the launch with a manoeuvre they don’t teach until advanced training.”

“You know that’s almost a fail.”

“He was fastest in finding the abnormality and the only one to question telemetry accuracy.” Hongjoong counters as he watches the teenager climb out of the simulator. 

They had expected some slumped shoulders or physical evidence of defeat but what emerges is a body that stands tall, defiant, and coiled with anger. There’s a scowl on his face, like he already knows how badly he messed up. Whatever critique he gets from Seungcheol is unlikely to be as brutal as his inner monologue right now.

“That’s a future liability, right there.” Seungcheol says, shaking his head. “Ballsy though.”

“Well he is sixteen.”

“With an IQ of 140 and about 8 different bad habits. That’s like giving a missile a brain and mental health problems.” 

“Geez, Seungcheol, he’s still just a kid. Put him out of his misery, I think he’s about to break something in there.”

“Choi San. 4:50.”

[elliewilliamslover]

The Archer

2. Early Morning at the Stadium

Here is the last chapter

Five years later...

*Thunk*

That was all that could be heard all morning in the range as Y/n reloads yet another arrow into her recurve bow glancing here and there at the WLF engraving on the inside. She draws the string back, focuses on the target that has the outline of a clicker drawn on it. She lets out a steady breath and lets go of the string, the arrow flies towards the target and hits the dead center on the head. Y/n smiles to herself and ready another arrow when a WLF soldier walks into the range.

"Miss L/n?" He asks. "Yes?" She asks in a flat tone, setting her bow down. Upon arriving at the WLF Stadium for the first time years ago along with Abby and the rest of the Salt Lake crew, she changed her last name to avoid any stares, questions or possible fights anyone would want to start with her because of her father's actions.

"Isaac wants You, Abby, and Manny to report to the FOB." He said and left. "Ah, shit." She said, all she wanted to do was to stay at the stadium today, maybe help around with some easy tasks. "Language Senorita." She heard in a thick accent. Y/n turned around to see Manny walking into the range with Abby not too far behind. "Hey guys, what's up?" She said with a soft smile on her face glancing at Abby for a couple seconds too long until Abby made eye contact with her making Y/n look away quickly. "Oh just the usual, you wanna participate in the challenge?" Manny said, fastening a pair of hearing protection on.

"Nah, you know I suck with a gun Manny. I'll pass on losing today." She said walking to pick up her bow, slinging it on her right shoulder. "Clear?" She said looking at the other people in the room shooting guns. They looked at her and nodded their heads. She walked down the range and pulled her arrows out of the clicker shaped target and put them in her quiver. Y/n walked back and everyone began shooting again. "See you guys at the trucks and let me know who loses." She said letting out a small chuckle. Once she exited the range she threw her ear protection into a box among other ear protection muffs.

"Hey Y/n!" She heard as she turned to head to the trucks. She looked at the equipment locker and saw Pat, a WLF soldier looking her way, motioning her over. "Yeah Pat whats up?" She said walking up to the counter that had bars on it. "Nothing much, heard your heading to the FOB with Manny and Abby, also heard Mel's going too." He said, setting his arms on the counter. "Really? Thought Mel would stay, considering she's almost at her due date. Anyways yeah, we're just about to head out, Abby and Manny are getting in some target practice." She said adjusting the bow on her shoulder. "Welp since you are leaving I can't let you go with just your bow so take a gun, you'll need it as a backup weapon." He said turning around and looking for a gun to give her. "Oh it's fine Pat, I don't need one." She said, shaking her head.

"I insist." Pat said, setting a .44 Pistol on the counter. Not just any .44 Pistol, a .44 Magnum Revolver. Y/n stared at it as he wrote down her name and the gun he assigned to her. "I can't take that pistol." She said, she couldn't remember the last time she shot a pistol that big. "Well who knows if you run out of arrows out there. Plus, I already wrote it down in pen so no take backs." He said basically shoving it across the counter to her. "Fine, I hate you." She said putting it in the thigh holster he gave her. "Who doesn't? Hey! May your survival be long." He said to her as she was leaving. "May your death be swift." Y/n said, turning around to face him, putting three fingers to her forehead and saluting with a small smile.

Finally getting to the trucks she see's Mel petting Alice. "Alice!" Y/n says running up to the German Shepherd. Alice runs up to her with her tail swinging left and right. "Awe, who's a good puppy? You're a good puppy!" She said, giving her ear scratches. "Hey." Mel said standing up. "Hey Mel." Y/n says petting Alice. "Where's Manny and Abby?" She said looking around for them. "Gun range, getting some practice in." Y/n said standing up. "Y'know, even though we've only known each other for five years, you've always had that country accent." Mel said, chuckling. "Yeah still got it, you can barely hear it anymore, but never lost it." She said laughing.

Manny walked up to them, Abby shortly following behind. Y/n looked Abby up and down, taking in her facial features like she always does and looked back at Manny to hear what all Manny had to say. Ever since that day in spring when Abby and Y/n met, she immediately had a slight crush on her but never bothered to do anything about it. Abby always had her eyes on Owen who basically became Y/n's older brother. Y/n was there to comfort Abby through her and Owens' breakup. She felt a tinge of happiness when Abby came and told her about it even when she shouldn't have felt it she did. It was wrong on so many levels.

"Y/n? Y/n!" She heard and looked up from the ground to see Manny snapping in her face. "What?" She said, "You ready chica?" He said and walked to the truck and got in. Y/n let out a small sign and mumbled four words as she got into the back of the truck,

"Am I ever ready?"

[fuck-customers]

I work at a veterinary clinic and we do boarding for dogs/cats. Today an owner came to pick up her 5 month old german shepherd puppy. If an owner leaves a leash and/or harness with us, we always try to use them to take them out to the lobby, rather than using one of our slip leads. This puppy came with a harness and a leash, and was wearing his collar. He was much too fucking excited for me to put his harness on by myself, and it was a busy hour so I didn’t have anyone to ask to help keep him steady for me. So I said fuck it and hooked his leash to his collar and carried his harness out with me to the owner. I had this thought, “This better not be one of those owners that’s weird about this kind of thing,” but well, unless it’s a small dog (harnesses are always better for small dogs) or a dog with certain special needs, it doesn’t fucking matter, especially if you’re just going to be taking them right to the car. Well when I took this puppy out to this lady, I almost wasn’t sure she was his owner. He was tugging toward her but lots of puppies will do that to anyone. The face she was making was confused and annoyed. I said, “Hi! Is this your baby?” and she said, “Yes. But why isn’t his harness on?” Of fucking course. I explained to her it wasn’t possible for me to put it on him, he was just sooooo excited to get to see her again. Then I offered to help her put it on, and he was still bouncing off the walls excited and she wasn’t listening to what I was telling her to do. She finally started to leave and snapped, “It’s fine, he’ll just choke himself to death on the way to the car.” Yeah sure okay. A five month old large dog puppy is going to die in the thirty or less seconds it takes you to get him to your car. Whatever, bitch, you’re welcome we took care of him while he spilled his food and water constantly. (Nothing actually against the puppy, he was a sweet boy, but people seriously don’t realize the stuff we have to put up with.)

Posted by admin Rodney.

[artsy-hobbitses]

Hello!

I know there was a lot questions about Sideswipe and Strongarm( I adore these sillies) but I would love to know how their engagement went?

There's war goin on so they have to be relativly serious but do they wait till the end of an conflict? Who was more nervous? And most inportant how Sunny reacted?

Thank you!❤

And tell me  That we belong together And dress it up with the trappings of love I'll be captivated I'll hang from your lips Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above

At the point of time Sides and Strongarm realised that they love each other enough to want to spend a lifetime of good-natured bickering, surprise cuddles and stealing kisses during sparring sessions together, Shockwave has kind of fucked up and awoken what’s been dubbed as UNICRON in redacted government files, so y’know, there’s literally much, MUCH bigger things to be nervous about. 

But they do have a talk about it, about them, because there is a chance one or both of them will not come back from this, and this could be the end of whatever story they’re penning together. 

They might have to close that book and start a new one after the dust settles, and they’re frontliners who have to be pragmatic about it. It’s the nature of their job, they’ve known that since day one taking up that Autobot badge. 

It starts innocently enough, just post-fieldwork thank-god-you’re-back-alive snuggles and silly questions about where they saw themselves if the war was never here to take their minds off the creeping dread of having to face down whatever it is that Shockwave has wrought upon them, because by now it’s been a decade and it’s hard to think about a time before the war or imagine a life after it some days. 

But Sideswipe can imagine it now, more vividly than ever, and he shares his thoughts with Strongarm, who asks him in a half-hearted joking manner if he’s gonna stop pulling her leg because through all of what he’s saying, it’s not just him— it’s “we”, it’s twisted sheets and listening to the rain at 2am over sweet nothings, it’s sleep-in mornings (imagine being able to wake up at 10am again IMAGINE) and puppy snuggles (he knows she’s always wanted a German Shepherd of her own but can’t justify getting a puppy in their current circumstances) and breakfasts at a cozy little table set for two (no more mess hall rush!), and stolen kisses before they leave for some mundane-ass totally normal day job where possible death isn’t on the agenda every time they clock in that punch card, and they can come home to a little piece of bliss that’s all their own and all that matters.

Sideswipe, 100% serious, makes a promise to her that if they make it out of this, it’ll be the first thing he asks her because ten years is more than long enough to decide that he wants the rest of whatever life he’s got left to be spent with her… but if he doesn’t—listen, if he doesn’t—he wants her to move on, find happiness in a better world with someone else because he loves her too much to have her be hung up over him, over pages left unwritten which will never be completed.

Strongarm calls him out again for having literally THE worst timing for these relationship milestones but reluctantly agrees, as long as he remembers this promise and does his best to come back to her because she’s gotten too use to having him as a sparring partner, and finding a new one is more hassle than she’s willing to deal with. (Note that Sideswipe at this point has said he loves her a couple of times, but she’s never really said it back. She’ll usually respond with ‘ditto’, reasoning that he clearly knows how she feels about him)

It’s a promise Sideswipe almost doesn’t get to keep—the ensuing battle nearly kills him (And would have, had it not been for Ratchet’s skills being temporarily boosted by his association with Alchemist Prime) and while he’s (barely) alive, he’s lost his dominant arm, has critical internal injuries and is in a two month-long coma.

Strongarm is a constant by his bedside (she and Sunny take shifts  making sure he doesn’t code and helping with daily therapy to limit his muscle atrophy—it’s around this time that their relationship improves markedly), and while she does try to keep things chipper and talks to him about how the war’s ended, the rebuilding efforts and all the super normal things they get to do now, one night the melancholy and despair sets in and she’s quietly pleading for him to wake up, because she can’t do this.

She thought she could be pragmatic about it, whole soldier’s coda of hope for the best and  prepare for the worst, but she’s not prepared to close their book, she’s not prepared to move on and be happy, and she’s so mad at him for insinuating that was even a possibility without him around. Because she doesn’t want to find someone else. It’s you, it’s always been you; For all the times she knew it killed you a little inside whenever life made you second-best to anything that mattered to you, there had never been anyone else for her from the day you answered her call while she laid dying in that alley and summarily made yourself the No.1 Prick of her heart. 

The next day, quite miraculously, he opens his eyes but is still non-responsive to stimuli.  Ratchet does gently try to temper Strongarm’s surging hopes for a full recovery with situational realism that it’s possible that he won’t be the same/won’t remember certain things and will need rehabilitation to re-learn how to function.

It’s clear however, through his blips of consciousness, that he’s struggling to communicate something between the more rapid blinking and finger twitches, and First Aid decides to get Wheeljack to rig up a little device to help him pick/tap out letters.

Sideswipe is still nonverbal and there’s no guarantee he can even figure out letters yet in his currrent state, but the first thing he manages to spell out is a very garbled “MRAYR EM?” and he slowly—but deliberately—winks at Strongarm.

And Strongarm—always stoic and professional with everyone else—just fucking openly bawls like she’s never bawled before, so much that it initially alarms Sunstreaker and First Aid, but she doesn’t care that it makes her like a madwoman for a hot second before they figure out what exactly Sides was trying to say that provoked this reaction.

Because—she’s laughing through messy, snotty sobs now—you remembered your promise, you remembered, and even when you’re busted to fuck and back and can’t spell for shit it’s the first thing you wanted her to hear, because you have the worst timing on earth and she loves you for it. 

She loves you, she loves you Sergio Saverio, she loves you for the stubborn, foolhardy, courageous, passionate hot mess that you are, she loves you, and the answer is Yes. 

His recovery is gradual and steady (That moment immediately improved Ratchet’s initially prognosis for him, because it showed that his memory was functional and his major neural pathways were still mostly connected), and she’s there every step of the way—it’s poetic bookends to the start of their relationship, when she took the leap of faith in trusting him and he tossed aside any misgivings he had about being involved with her to help save her life and heal from an injury which she was similarly told she wouldn’t fully recover from. 

Their engagement is over the period of a year, as his condition improves bit by bit (there are some things that are permanent—his reflexes/reaction times are shot, he can barely wield his sword, and getting used to his new prosthetic arm is a struggle especially given his circumstances, all of which make him feel even more self-conscious as an ex-soldier, but Strongarm and Sunstreaker both assure him that he’s still their Sideswipe, he’s still whole even if he can’t fight like he used to, and this world which he helped save is one where he never has to fight a day more in his life) and they’re taking this time together to finally do things ‘right’ and make up for his horrible timing as he likes to jest; going on fluffy dates, making a real home together, meeting the parents.

They also BOTH get rings for each other (Sideswipe goes to HotRod, Strongarm goes to Swerve, both who are ELATED to be able to craft non-weapons and keep the secret) and try to re-propose to each other ‘properly’ at the same time, which ends up with both of them bending the knee at the same time for each other over laughter because THE DRIFT IS TOO STRONG and also, who needs proper when this is more fun?

Sunstreaker’s the one who actually helped Sideswipe source a sapphire for the ring intended for Strongarm (he’s still got connections!), and after seeing his brother’s recovery and how Strongarm was there every step of the way, concurs that he was wrong—she’s exactly the right one for Sideswipe, and he’s genuinely never been happier that his baby brother, who’d been starved of love as a child and had always dreamed of a loving family because of that, finally has a chance at it. 

[feith-rikya]

All these characters are from an RPG campaign called; Gehenna's Gates, set in the world of Vampire The Masquerade. Feel free to ask any questions!

Danya Vetranov & Devon Eskarra:

In a world where their paths rarely crossed, Danya and Devon were as different as night and day. Danya, with a compassionate Ravnos heart, and Devon, a former serial killer Lasombra, seemed to have little common ground.

But their tale takes a twist after Becker's passing, when Devon's behavior spirals out of control, even leading to an attack on Elizabeth. She tried to use a blood bond to tame him, which only fueled the chaos. A coterie member decided to investigate Devon, sparking a deadly showdown with his lupine guardian that ended in their deaths and further stoked Devon's anger.

To resolve this volatile situation, Danya, accompanied by Luc, reached out to Devon, offering apologies for the lupine's death and proposing a deal involving Rany, the witch responsible for Becker's demise. However, when Danya used her powers to probe Devon's intentions, she caught a glimpse of his horrific deeds, leaving her deeply unsettled and harboring a strong aversion towards him. Even her illusion powers failed to intimidate him.

Their disagreement over Rany's fate ultimately led to a confrontation between Luc and Devon, with Devon emerging victorious.

Recognizing the explosive potential in Devon, Danya decided to take a different approach. She aimed to treat him as someone who had lost a companion and friend within a month, appealing to his humanity while setting aside her disgust and fear. In her unique style, she discreetly gifted him a German Shepherd puppy as a companion and protector. Her attempt to deliver the gift went awry when she was unexpectedly confronted by the enigmatic vampire of the abyss.

During their conversation, Danya expressed her disagreement with his past actions but extended her condolences for the loss of his companion – a gesture that left a deep impression on Devon. From there, they talked, and he offered her an enchanted black rose as a token of gratitude. What began as a quest to keep an eye on him turned into an unexpected friendship, hidden from their coterie. Danya introduced him to ordinary activities like visiting pubs, shopping, and indulging in carefree, even reckless, antics. Devon followed along with bemusement.

[xxstraykidsaikoxx]

PETS

• RYUKO (2014-2015)

• STATUS: Deceased

• GENDER: Female

• BREED: German Shepherd

• CAUSE OF DEATH: Illness

• AGE WHEN DIED: 1 Year

• HISTORY: Aiko got Ryuko when she was 12 as a gift from her best friends mother, whom she was living with at the time. Despite the breeder informing the mother that Ryuko was indeed healthy, the dog had fallen fatally ill the following year, and passed away almost two days later at such a young age. Aiko to this day blames herself for not doing more to help Ryuko and notes that even the thought of Ryuko makes her saddened.

• CLOVER (2021-PRESENT)

• STATUS: Alive

• GENDER: Female

• BREED: German Shepherd

• AGE: 2 Years

• HISTORY: Aiko was given Clover, once again, as a gift, but this time was from her boyfriend and fellow member Hyunjin, and he gifted the puppy to her on their one year anniversary. Clover is the main source of Aiko's comfort and happiness, other than her boyfriend, and often calls Clover her savior. Recently, Clover had gotten pretty sick, and Aiko immediately paused all activity to fly back to Japan to care for her. Thankfully, Clover had recovered smoothly, and Aiko was extremely happy since she had been a complete wreck ever since she had gotten word, the message causing her to have flashbacke to Ryuko.

ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

[sam-winchester1327]

Story- My Own Funeral

My Own Funeral.

I sit and watch the funeral bordering the time limit it was set for. In their defense, it's a graveyard, and who will stop a funeral full of grieving people? I shadow the crowd of only a few weeping people. Those weeping people were some of what I learned to be my true friends, the people who cared, only a very small percentage of the people I knew. I guess the others just wanted sympathy and attention. They just wanted to play the “my friend just died” card. They were over the world about my supposed death. 

I leave before the funeral ends. I retreated to my apartment. Elizabeth Burch was now gone, just a memory. Only little do I regret what I did. I regret leaving my friends, even though it's probably best. I already bought a new car with a new license plate under the name, “Clara Walls”. Almost all of my belongings were already in the trunk. The only things that remained were the items that I could easily carry. As the sun started to set, I piled myself into the small bug-looking car and drove approximately 3 hours outside of town, far from any hospitals. I got to a town where the missing posters hadn’t been taken down yet. Not far enough. It didn't matter though, this was only a spot to stop at a gas station for a snack. I know they wouldn't know me from the posters. I had changed my hair from a long flowing blonde to a vibrant black short layered cut. I finally arrived at our destination. A cabin on the outskirts of a small town in Oregon. It may not have been out of state,  but it would work.

TIME SKIP: 13 years.

I've been living in Crescent, Oregon for about 13 years now. I have been doing detective work. It doesn't bring in many exciting things, mainly just petty theft. I adopted one of the K-9 puppies that couldn't work a few years back. Grim was a black, long-haired German Shepherd. He was my best friend. Work was somewhat boring, well up until Jan 14, 2019. I look down at my desk, still a little hungover from having my 31st birthday the night before. I read something that made my heart almost stop. Shit. It was a break in the case of Elizabeth Burch from Portland Oregon. My family had a thing for keeping things as they’ve always been. For example, when my older sister went off to college, her room was untouched. It was like she never left. 

There was a break in the case. A book of the maps of Oregon had been found. A book of maps where the town that I had found to be home, had a small dog-eared page. I vaguely remember hiding that in the bottom of a wardrobe somewhere. Why? Why had they gone into my old room? After 13 years to the day. Then it hit me. 13 had always been my favorite number. They must have remembered that. I had been just 18 when I “died”. I realized what I had to do. I had to confess what happened. Why I had to get out, this was going to be a “fun” drive. I get home and pack a few things into a bag. As I’m packing when my boss calls about the case. Crap. I try to explain everything. He surprisingly isn’t mad. I look at him as I did my father. The fact he wasn’t mad made me tear up and I started to cry. I hung up, finished packing, packed Grim into the car, and went back to Portland as Elizabeth Burch. 

After a long 3 hours, I arrived in Portland. I drive into town and the first place I stop is my own grave. Wait. There is someone there. Then I realize who's at my grave. It's Wyatt. He was one of my best friends when I was Elizabeth. I get out of the car and walk up to him.” Wyatt”? I ask. He looks back like he’s seen a ghost. Well I mean he kinda has. “Lizzy”? I nod. He runs and hugs me. He then does something I didn’t expect. He gives me a well-deserved bitch slap. I’m not even mad, all I say is, “Fair enough”. “What in the world were you thinking, did you not think of us” he yells at me. I do not respond, all I do is give a confused look. “We missed you terribly. You should probably know this, Lucy is dead.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Lucy was one of my best friends when I was Elizabeth. Wyatt can tell by my face that I’m about to cry. He pulls me into a hug and we talk for a while at my grave. 

We decided to walk into town and go to the diner we always went to. We are about to order our regulars when the waitress recognizes me. “Elizabeth”? She asks. When I nod she goes on about how I wouldn’t know her but she never gave up hope and knew I would come back. When she catches herself talking too much she apologizes and takes our orders. We get our food and continue talking. After we pay and are saying our goodbyes he slips in an, ” I love you”. I stop mid-sentence. Had I heard that correctly? “What”? I ask, still a bit in shock. “Here, this will clear it up”. He strides right up to me and kisses me. When we pull away my face feels like it’s on fire. He takes out a pen and writes his new number on my hand. He nods and says, “Now get out of here and go see your parents”. 

[n1ghtm4r3-p01s0n]

What Pets the Saw Cast Has

Adam - a stray cat that he began feeding. I like to think it’s a grey tabby cat, rather skinny but only friendly to him. I like to think it’s name is Smokey.

The Gordons - a Golden Retriever that is only 2 by the events of Saw 1. He was a Christmas present for Diana and she named him Sunny. Lawrence really takes to him after the events of the bathroom. Lawrence is the one who signed the adoption papers so Sunny stays with him, but Diana visits and Allison allows her to pop over to Lawrence’s to walk Sunny on the weeks Diana stays with Allison.

Daniel - He has a Doberman Pinscher by the name of General. General was actually Eric’s dog, but after Eric went missing Daniel began taking care of him. Daniel has a cage with 5 rats in his room. He has a brown rat named Chocolate, an albino rat named Sugar, a spotted rat named Cookie, a rat with curled whiskers named Wurly and a cream rat named Mocha. Amanda felt bad so she anonymously got a small Pitbull puppy for Daniel which he named Amanda, after her.

The Denlons - Corbette has a Guinea Pig named Rex. Dylan had a hamster named Rocky who Corbette took care of after Dylan’s death. Lynn is the only one who also looks after the pets.

Amanda - Has a reptile named Mary and a tarantula named Jane. Yes, she named them after marijuana. She still had them when she was living in the Gideon Meat Packing Factory.

Hoffman - Has a German Shepherd named Joe, lovingly nicknamed “Asshole” cause he keeps destroying Hoffman’s shoes.

Strahm - Peter has a chinchilla named Sandy. Peter became obsessed with chinchillas as a child after seeing one at a zoo so he was determined to get one.

Perez - Her parents have an old English Shepherd by the name of Batsy. He is blind by age and is developing arthritis. He was put down shortly after Hoffman killed Perez.

Easton - Has a Sphinx cat (suggested by Fi in a Discord server). The cat is named Arabelle, and she never liked John. William figured out why a bit too late.

John - Found a random stray mutt in the meat factory. He adopted it and named it Gideon. He even got a collar and a dog bed for him. Gideon was asleep in another room when John and Amanda died.

Morgan - Got a puppy named Cranberry after Rex died. She got it so her daughter had something to comfort her while grieving. Cranberry is a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel.

Logan - Has a Golden Retriever named Lucky. His daughter loves playing fetch with him. Lucky is in training to be a service dog to help Logan with his PTSD.

[rainbowdelicsunshine]

Whatever aU first comes to mind upon reading this for the 5 hcs game! :DD

As you probably predicted, I'm choosing to talk about my OceanBerry AU (aka my Chucky AU/Retelling of the Chucky TL)!

1. You remember the three human friends that Chucky is buddies with that I've talked about in this post long ago?

Well I FINALLY have found some live action faceclaims for them!! (Please don't take the IRL ages of these actors into account since I only need them to demonstrate appearance)

Here they are!

(Left to Right)

Don Rivers: Bruce Willis (as David Dunn in Glass)

Zach Galifianakis: Jerry Hickens (as Ethan Chase in Due Date) (and w only a bushy mustache)

Blake Anderson: Bob Berkeley (as Blake in Workaholics)

2. I have also found live action faceclaims for Glen's boyfriend Kahuna and Glenda's girlfriend Natalie (OCs of mine) as well!

And same as the first time, real ages of the actors does not factor in choosing them as a faceclaim, only appearance is!

(Left to Right)

Kahuna Mahelona: Jason Scott Lee (as Mowgli in Rudyard Kipling's The Jungle Book (1994) (add on hair/bangs that covers his eyes + slightly more muscular)

Natalie Winchester: Kim Director (as Kim Diamond in Book of Shadows: Blair Witch 2) (have hair dye at the ends of her hair instead of being streaks in her hair)

3. Chucky and Eddie are in the midst of attempting to reconcile and reestablish their adoptive brotherhood (since before the Big Incident in 1988, Chucky and Eddie regarded each other as brothers)

They still have a LOT of sour feelings on each other's ends for their own respective reasons (Chucky for being abandoned when he needed his little brother the most and Eddie for literally being blown tf up)

Eddie is still much more resentful than Chucky since Chucky started to feel more thankful towards Eddie as time went on with having his family, Eddie tends to be a lot more snappier and grumpier around Chucky but is still able to tolerate him and even sometimes have a good bonding moment like they used to

Chucky on the other hand just acts like how an asshole big brother would to their little brother, just messing with them in stupid ways like how they used to do as kids/young adults

4. If anyone ever wanted to know what John/Dr. Death does in his free time/where he lives in the Ray house, he basically just keeps to himself in the attic of the house studying and practicing his magic and spirituality

He does come down to other parts of the house on occasion and regularly interacts with the Rays (but talks to and hangs out with Eddie the most), since he acts as the family's advisor/guide the kids and Chucky tend to go to him in the attic a lot since he tends to have knowledge they need

The state of Chucky and John's friendship is still... Icy but is much better than it was before!

I also HC that they were childhood friends as well, thus that being how Chucky found him to teach him Magic and Soul Bending/Shifting (what I'm calling the spell/s where Chucky would transfer souls and such) and Soulmancy (what I'm replacing the Voodoo with cuz yall know why)

If you are unfamiliar with John Bishop and his role in OceanBerry, here is this post!

His Appearance/Info

5. The Rays do, in fact, have a dog that acts as a family companion and guard dog that keeps the house and the kids safe (in Chucky's words) that they all got as a puppy when the youngest (my Chiffany fankid Buddy) was around 9 years old

The dog is a 4 year old medium sized but very muscular German Shepherd/Pitbull Mix that's dubly named King Ghidorah, very vicious, strong and protective of his property and family when need be, but is most of the time a giant sweetheart that likes to think he's a lapdog

Fun fact: King Ghidorah was given to The Rays by Chucky's friend Jerry when he had found the pup in a box of "free puppies" that was stationed in front of the Walmart that's in Hackensack and decided that a puppy from that box would've made a GREAT birthday gift for Buddy

Ofc, since Buddy was a 9 year old, he LOVED it! King Ghidorah is now closest/bonds the most with Buddy, Chucky, and June/Junior all in that order (though Ghidorah loves EVERYONE)!

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HOLY SHIT THIS TOOK FOREVER MY GOD!!!!!!

I am soso sorry that this took SO LONG for me to post this, it took a lotta time to come up with all this info for you, let alone type it all out lol!

I hope that the wait was well worth it and that you let me in on your feedback on this my dear lovely friend!

I hope that you enjoy reading all this and have a fantastic evening!!