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the-heaminator · 2 years ago

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2.2k of useless fluff between Australia, New Zealand and Germany in the 1890s, and a brief reunion 60 or so years later. This came out of some deep dark crevice of my mind and I do not know how to feel about that.

Dresden, 1890s

The summer warmth and smog had settled itself over Europe quite resolutely now, the stifling heat doing nothing to aid Ludwig nor Eleanor in their endeavours of trying to do anything at all, too warm and sunny to do anything but play inside away from the hustle and bustle of the house and far far away from the fraying tempers that had collected in the dining room, though not for eating just yet.

That did not stop Jack, who aunt Brighid always said was made of sunlight itself, from going outside and picking at various creepy crawlies and from hiding in trees and playing with sticks, the other two, set to keep watch on the sunshine child by both England and Prussia had to contend with the shelter of the veranda and ate Creamed Ice, sweetened with honey and finely chopped nuts. While they watched Jack do what he did, Ludwig was overheating far far worse than Elanor, she had the pleasure of wearing a relatively loose summer dress, mainly because England was not the most well-versed in what to make a girl wear, so he seemed to go for practicality unless it was a formal function.

Which to be fair this was, but they had no need to be here, they had just pestered him often enough and there was nobody to look after them, he would never trust any of the housemaids enough to entrust them to her, Matthew was in Canada now, Uncle Rhys and Uncle Alisdair were in America dealing with something or the other, Jack probably would never forget the incident of when he was still physically about the size of a toddler and accidentally got passed around one too many times in the great exhibition and ended up with Alfred who recognised him as one of England's quicker than Jack could say "Bloody fuckin fast!"

He always had a filthy mouth, not that he had no reason to, Ludwig had heard Prussia say, on multiple occasions, that England should at least to attempt to clear up his speech, which was more than once met with a tirade of enough curse words both nautical and not, that he could feel his ears shrivel up and he didn't even know what half of them meant?

Jack may have been a lizard, with lack of a better way to put it, but Ludwig must certainly was not, he was wearing rather stuffy grey wool over a shirt that didn't cover his forearms, Eleanor asked if he wanted heatstroke, but he really just didn't like showing his forearms to anybody, apparently they were far too thin and boney, with many bruises that weren't inflicted by anyone hand, but by the nation as a whole, it seemed as of they didn't understand this very well, they had seen it happen to their father and his siblings, but they never seemed to get them themselves unless something markedly severe was happening, apparently, it usually affected their father more than it affected them, supposedly because they were colonial holdings and England held jurisdiction of them.

They were stewing in silence for a while, Ludwig had started to nod off, it being far too hot to deal with right now, so that he didn't realise that Eleanor had started to draw in the hard dry earth in the flowerbeds with a twig.

She drew the magnificent Carracks that sailed the seas in the 1500s by the Spaniards, well according to what her sailing book said, she had heard that her father had been a pirate at some point but she found that incredibly hard to believe, but whatever, she drew the Barques that were used to get to her lonely island, that fared through storms and whatnot.

They weren't the most detailed, how could you make drawing in the dirt all that detailed, but in the still, sultry air, they seemed to be by far the most appealing thing in the garden just about now, her doodling even managed to attract the notoriously flighty attention of her dearest brother, and he squat near the flowerbed, in the full sun, clearly unperturbed the sun beating the back of his neck and frying what few braincells he seemed to resolutely own, he started adding his details as well, doodling in the dirt as Ludwig stayed asleep, but this is jack, he would never particularly let anybody sleep especially not in such weather, he would get heatstroke really goddamn fast, especially if he stayed in what he was wearing, honestly who would wear a woollen jumper in such weather?

Plus he was already borning, in Jack's eyes he already acted like an old man, despite being physically about the same age as him and as a nation he was quite a bit younger, but he already acted painfully stuffy, he sat with the same almost military-like posture that both their Father and Prussia tended to sit in, he was touchy, especially about seeing his arms unclothed, quite like how Uncle Rhys was sometimes, and he genuinely seemed to have a stick up his ass already, no one seemed to ever treat him like a child and well, Jack knew that getting treated like a child too much felt terrible, but also never being treated like one, especially if, physically at least, he still was one, he never seemed to experience the pure awe or interest that Jack did, happier to sit on the side passively and watching then to ever take part in anything, he was quite boring usually; but sometimes he could see that underneath all that, he was still very young, when Jack pointed out different bird species a while ago he seemed to copy all Jack had to say down with uncharacteristic zeal, copying everything down almost word for word in the flowy cursive that Jack associated with old men and Matt; not something that one would expect from a 14 year old for sure, Zee joined in the conversation and that was one of the few times they saw him looking like an actual child, it was odd.

"Jack, what are you thinking of?"

"What?"

Jack had been squatting on the soil, not moving, seemingly deep in thought.

"You know, he acts like an old man sometimes," He said pointing at Germany, who was quite fast asleep in the shade, the heat clearly having got the better of him "But I want to think that he isn't and throw mud at him, but if I did I don't even know how he would react."

"Jack that is way too specific, but you have a point."

At that he had an idea, half-baked as it was, it was an idea nonetheless, it was to start with him being awoken, Zee would do that and hopefully, he did not have a particularly strong reaction to physical touch, he was particularly young even for their kind so he shouldn't, but Ludwig seemed to break more than a few long-established rules of nationdom, so who knows.

Zee had her reservations, she always did, being the voice of reason amongst the two, sometimes seeming to be the voice of reason in their entire family despite being one of the youngest, but Jack very much did not, and unfurled himself from his crouch to full height, ruddy face smiling like rays of the sun itself, before he poked Ludwig on the shoulder, once, then again, achieving only a sleepy grumble which caused him to move his head, which therefore caused him to lose his very carefully made position, and he fell onto the hard soil, quite sufficiently waking him up.

The look on his face caused Jack to fall into an absolute fit of laughter, and even Zee who generally prided herself on not doing that started to giggle at his expense, Ludwig picked himself up quickly and dusted himself off, grumbling all the while, the language was quite bland, especially considering his company and their vibrant vernacular of curses, but if Gilbert had heard him he would have surely got his mouth washed out with soap.

He returned himself to his perch on the veranda, well in the shade as Jack sat down next to him, looking markedly more scruffy than before he dozed off, how long had it been anyways?

They all sat in silence for a few moments before Ludwig enquired what the drawing in the soil was of.

"Don't tell me you've never heard of a carrack?

"Or a galleon?"

"Or a schooner?"

Ludwig knew that they were boats, he had read about them, but had never actually seen one, they were quite before his time, really before all of their times, but Arthur had a fondness of the sea that Gilbert most certainly did not possess, he had only seen the sea a few times, and it was steely grey the few times he did see it, the waves choppy and the air cold with a cloying smell of dead fish and other wonderful nautical scents, like alcohol as well as the smoke of the coal ships making it difficult to breathe if he stood too close.

"They are boats no?"

"Of course, they are boats, banana face, but do you know what type of boat it is?"

Ludwig searched his mental inventory for the type of boat, it seemed to not fit into any of the well defined categories and that annoyed him very much, outwardly he looked mildly constipated and the both of them looked on in interest.

"Is it a...collier?"

The two looked impressed "Not exactly, but that was the point, it is a barque, which is basically where all the boats that do not fit any other categories are lumped together, and that does look like a collier quite so."

Jack absolutely lit up and started to go on about the ocean, specifically the ocean at botany bay, the slick rocks that he used to climb over and hunt for mussels and crabs, and try not to fall into any of the rock pools, lest Aunt Bridghid had to fish him out and he would get a good smack upside the head for it, about how many birds nested there and how he knew where all the nests were, the blue-green water that had so many fish in it despite being close to the coast, he started to talk about how blue the sky was, the smell of salt in the air as he walked alongside Aunt Bri.

He started to spin elaborate tales about the birds and their migratory journeys, creating epic-like sagas and whatnot before finally stopping, beaming at the rapt attention of his audience of two.

"What about you Ludwig, have you ever seen the ocean?"

Ludwig seemed to take a moment before saying "It was nothing like yours, there was a lot of grey, a lot of smoke and noise, pebbles that hurt to fall on," he scrunched up his nose "It smelt like rotting fish, tobacco alcohol and sadness."

Jack made a face "That sounds fucking depressing, like the limey coast!" He thought "Were there crabs."

"There were no crabs, not that I looked."

Zee continued to watch, she liked seeing those two talk, unstoppable force meets an immovable object and all that, they bounced off each other really very well.

"I want to see the ocean like yours." Said in such a childlike manner that for a moment you could believe the voice actually did belong to a teenage boy, forced to grow up too fast and not the tired middle-aged man he already seemed to be acting like, and it was nice for the three of them.

Sydney 1950s

They were older now, two men of admirable height, no longer an oddly proportioned German and an Australian who always had mud on his knees, Jack watched as Ludwig just looked out upon Botany bay, sure it wasn't as it was 300 years prior, but enough of what Jack said stood the test of time, the rocks were slimy and Ludwig was terrible at climbing over them, the rock pools with the mussels and crabs remained, Jack showed him different types of crab while they squatted in the sun, Ludwig wearing a coat of sunscreen because he absolutely burned in the sun.

The green-blue sea and the birds that preened themselves haughtily when they passed, the sky far more blue than he had ever seen it at home, the smell of salt tickling his nose most pleasurably, such a far cry from the first time he saw the sea

They were both quite worse for wear after the wars, it was difficult to imagine that that conversation happened not 70 years prior, but that was besides the point, Jack may have not been small enough to fall into rock pools and Ludwig was not small enough to cry after tripping over rocks, but they were young, younger than most really, Ludwig had barely been around for 80 years, a blip in time for older nations, but at least now, after all the years had thrown at them, they could enjoy.

"Come mate imma teach ya to surf!"

#Hws australia #Hws New Zealand #Hws germany #Historical hetalia #The heam writes #*slaps the hood of this fic* This baby can fit so much infodumping #I dont even know just read it ok #Theres a lot of boat information for some reason

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

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HSAU: College Part 1

Previously on HSAU

Morning started the same, every day, rain or shine. Four thirty in the morning, the alarm beeped in the small attic room, and under one section of angled roof, where a pile of blankets slumbered, an arm would appear and slap around until the offending noise stopped. It was precise and methodical and never changed, six days a week.

Lexa ran her hands over her face after pushing off the blankets, but stayed in bed just a few seconds longer, orienting herself. Though it was still summer, the sky hadn’t brightened just yet, and the night was disinterested in ending anytime soon. When she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, she stretched and cracked her joints and yawned before grabbing an old shirt to throw over her sports bra and slipping on a pair of shorts. The fan in her window hummed along while the crickets outside groaned in the heat. Outside, the neighborhood she grew up in was quiet and still. A dog barked and calmed itself. No cars moved at all. Every picket fence and yard with signs and flags slumbered before dawn came, and Lexa was the first among the living. July was awake before the dawn as well. It shook off the night from its coat and stretched forward and backward before loping into the streets, covering every surface with a few inches of thick heat. Without the sun, the heat rose up straight from the ground itself, radiating out into the world. Lexa paused halfway through her run and tied her shoe as the light changed for no cars at all. As she stood she dried her forehead on her shoulder and started off again. Her run got insanely longer with the new summer route that took her out towards her uncle’s garage. For no reason at all. “Where’s Bear?” “I let him sleep in,” Lexa smiled before distracting herself with wiping the sweat from her face with her old shirt. “I ran here though, so that’s impressive.” “Yeah, I mean... no Bear though,” Clarke shrugged and hustled about the café, preparing for the opening. It took just a second, but somewhere between flipping the sign on the door and moving to make the second round of coffee, Lexa grabbed her girlfriend’s arm and tugged her back, kissing her like she had been waiting to do since she started her run. “Your mom still at that conference?” “Until Thursday.” “Want me to help you pack?” “Why don’t you let me actually pack and then come over to watch a movie or something,” Clarke chuckled and pushed at her girlfriend’s chest. “I am a great helper.” “No you’re not,” she smiled and ran her hand up Lexa’s neck, pushing her body closer as she found herself stuck between the counter and her quarterback. “I could barely walk after the last time you came over to help.” The words made her shiver, but Lexa grinned as she swallowed and ran her hands over Clarke’s hips. “But you were way more relaxed.” “I can’t wait until practice starts again. You need to work off all that energy somewhere else.” “How about another training session tonight?” The puppy dog eyes were in full effect, distracting her from everything else. The jingling of the bell at the door made them pull apart. Lexa smiled politely, clearing her throat as her girlfriend adjusted her apron. Just a few more days, and they would be gone, away from the safety of their little town. The entire summer had been spent avoiding thinking about it too much, had been spent disappearing to float down the river, to watch movies much too late in Lexa’s room until her mother would come home late from work and politely remind them of the hour, to drop Aden off at his science camp and disappear together to the mountains and spend the day hiking, which inevitably ended with lounging in the shade atop the hill. Lexa took her seat, at her table, and waited until Clarke finished with the first few customers of the morning. Miraculously, without even having to order, a water appeared, with a big bowl of oatmeal and fruit. Just like nearly a year ago, the quarterback sat there and studied plays as the morning rush came and went. Most of her time was spent watching the girl with blonde hair and cheeks that had that damn smile. For the life of her, Lexa couldn’t figure out how she was going to find the motivation to run when she moved to New Haven. XXXXXXXXX

The evening was growing long in the tooth, but neither party could be bothered to let it end without a fight. And even though a mother made her presence known from time to time, it didn’t deter the two sweethearts in the attic hideaway. Nothing really could, with the late-July heat settling on the roof, angry and annoyed.

“I don’t think I’ve seen your room this clean ever before,” Clarke observed as she hunkered down on the bed while Lexa finished packing and straightening up. “It wasn’t ever dirty, it just feels… I don’t know. Less lived in.”

“I wasn’t going to leave a mess for my mom.”

“I know. I just don’t like any of it.”

“You’ll be doing the same thing in like six weeks.”

“Oh no. I’m definitely leaving a mess for my mom.”

Lexa chuckled and zipped up another duffle bag before tossing it on the pile. She gave her room a finally glance and felt a twinge of sadness in the base of her heart, a tiny little tug on her body that felt like she was already gone. She fell into her bed beside her girlfriend and smiled when a hand pushed hair away from her face.

“You’re going to go across the country tomorrow,” Clarke whispered. “And I will miss you. But you are going to do something spectacular.”

The quarterback slid her hand around Clarke’s hip, her thumb touching the warm skin there. She liked the feeling of her, and she wanted to remember it.

“I’ll miss you badly.”

“Obviously. I’m incredibly missable.”

Lexa smiled as Clarke held it there and kissed her eagerly, without holding anything back, to try to say what she couldn’t. Hands gripped on her hips and she pushed forward toward Lexa. Hands moved to her neck and she dug her hands into her girlfriend’s hair.

“I’ll come see you when you move in,” Lexa promised. “Just a three hour train ride and I can be there.”

“And you’ll work very hard earning that starting spot this summer. No distractions. And if you get a chance,” Clarke grinned and slide her hand up her girlfriend’s stomach. “To get in shape.”

“You oogling me is really good motivation.”

“I don’t oogle,” Clarke shook her head as lips moved to her neck. She felt Lexa settle atop her and closed her eyes, pulling her closer, always closer. “I appreciate.”

“You’ll have a good summer, right? Not miss me too much.”

“I’ll miss you plenty, but I’ll try.”

“Will you, um,” Lexa pulled away slightly, her lips a little puffier, her eyes a little more dilated, her hands touching skin and aching for more. “Would you do me a favor?”

“Your mom is still making dinner. We have like an hour before dinner. I plan on doing a few favors for you.”

“No, no, not that,” she shook her head. “Well. Kind of that. But I just… I want you to have a good time this summer, and not think about me. But while you’re doing that, could you watch out for Aden? He gets… he gets quiet sometimes. And my mom. She works too hard. I don’t want to leave them.”

Her eyes were a little glassy with the confession and Clarke pressed her hand to her chest and nodded with a smile before kissing her softly.

“I’ll keep an eye on them.”

“You have no idea how good that is to hear.”

“I can imagine.”

“Any favors I can do for you?” Lexa ventured with a smile.

“One or two.”

XXXXXXXXXX

It wasn’t easy for the first week, but Clarke kept telling herself that if she could make it one week, then she could do it, without a doubt. As hard as it was, she clawed her way through the first seven days without Lexa almost intact and only cried a handful to a dozen times.

They survived with FaceTime and texts and calls. She got to see a lot of Lexa’s new world with tons of pictures and a lot of eager explanations, and Clarke made sure to keep plans with friends, electing to fake it and hopefully find some moments of happiness. And she did, swimming with friends, parties by the river, working at the café. It was all doable when she didn’t take any time to think about it.

And every night when she talked with her girlfriend on the phone, Clarke had something to tell her that she did that day to keep herself busy. And she got to hear about how crazy training was, and how awesome the team was, and how exciting being on her own seemed to be. Clarke could handle listening to Lexa talk for hours.

But there was something she needed to do, and she waited until the first milestone of a week to muster up the courage to do it.

“Clarke, honey, it is so good to see you,” Gabby opened the door and smiled, wiping her hands in the towel on her shoulder before hugging the girl at her door tightly.

“It’s good to see you, too,” Clarke sighed, melting into the motherly embrace.

“I hope you’re hungry. I made chicken.”

“Is it cooked?”

“Ha ha. Very funny,” she rolled her eyes, grinning as she ushered her guest inside.

The house smelled warm and delicious, and somehow felt a little different without Lexa’s bag of gear by the door and her cleats clogging up the entryway. The noises were still the same, some music playing over the small radio on the kitchen counter and Aden’s music thumping overhead, but there wasn’t a happy girl about to lope down the steps at the sound of the door and kiss the guest, and everyone knew it.

“How have you been? How’s summer so far?” Gabby asked as Clarke followed toward the kitchen.

“Not too bad. Normal stuff. Working and preparing to leave.”

“Ah, to be young and with the summer ahead,” she wistfully sighed before taking the chicken out of the oven.

Her phone rang, and Clarke saw the familiar pep in her step to answer it after she looked at the clock, familiar with the schedule Lexa liked to keep.

“Hey, kid. How are you?” she smiled at her phone as her daughter’s face popped on the screen. “Your timing is great. Look who just showed up for dinner.”

Clarke waved at her girlfriend from the counter earning a huge smile.

“Make sure the chicken is cooked,” Lexa offered.

“Way ahead of you.”

“How was practice today? You still sore in the shoulder?”

“It was great. I got some time in on the first line and had a really good film session. I just got back from dinner with a bunch of the guys. It was Shawn’s birthday, so we went to get a bite at this awesome Chinese place I can’t wait to show you both.”

“And you’re back in the dorm by nine?”

“A couple of the other guys went to grab drinks, but I’ve honestly never been more tired in my entire life, and we have a five call time tomorrow for conditioning.”

“Okay, honey, well thanks for calling me. You should sleep.”

“I will. Clarke, wake me up later so you can tell me all about dinner and your day?”

“We’ll see,” she shrugged and smiled.

“I’ll be half asleep but I’m extra cute when I’m half-asleep.”

“It’s true,” Gabby nodded. “She’s impossible to tolerate when she’s awake.”

“Very funny,” Lexa rolled her eyes. “I love you guys. Have a good dinner. I’m sorry I missed it.”

“Get some sleep,” they both ordered.

It was a good dinner. Clarke enjoyed her time with Lexa’s family as she always did, and she felt a little better that Lexa gave her something to do. Maybe it was a win-win all along, that Lexa got to make sure her family was watched, and Clarke would have something to do. She wasn’t sure she could give Lexa all the credit for the plan, just that she was glad it worked out that way.

XXXXXXXXX

It had been a long two months. Clarke felt every second of it, she thought, despite how busy she was preparing to move across the country. There was still work, and there was still time with friends, still the summer shenanigans she’d come to love, still time with everyone else who was going their own ways as well.

It took forever and it went on in a blink. But by the time she got off the plane and picked up her luggage, she realized she didn’t particularly miss home at all. As she stood on the curb and waited for an Uber, she wasn’t as daunted by the idea of change as she had expected, but rather eager to embrace it all.

“Excuse me, ma’am, you’re going to have to move along--”

Dumbfounded, Clarke stared at her girlfriend, who seemed to have somehow gotten taller and prettier in their time apart, standing next to an old truck. Clad in a backward blue ball cap and a torn up workout shirt that looked as if it was still dirty from a morning practice.

“What are you--?” Clarke began to ask before smiling too much and launching herself into her quarterback’s arms.

It felt good, to feel Lexa’s arms around her waist, to smell the sun on her neck, to fit so snuggly there. Clarke squeezed with all of her might, kissing what she could smooshed there, with Lexa’s arms returning it, a laugh in her throat strangled from escaping.

Somehow Clarke realized her legs wrapped around Lexa and she was essentially a koala, latched there. She didn’t care. She kissed her girlfriend, ignoring the honks of the cars and the swirling police that wanted to usher everyone along. She somehow became the person who missed another persons lips. It was infuriating.

“How did you know?”

“My mom told me about your flight,” Lexa shrugged. “I borrowed a truck from one of the guys on the line. They think you’re hot.”

“Well, that’s… sweet, I guess.”

“I couldn’t wait to see you. Even if it’s just for a little bit.”

“You’re getting soft on me, Woods.”

“Yeah,” she grinned, squeezing again. “I don’t care. I knew no one would be here to take you to school.”

“I was just going to uber or taxi.”

“I’m going to be the person who takes you where you need to go, even if you don’t ask or expect it, and not in as creepy a way as that sounds--”

She was silenced with another kiss as Clarke struggled to hide her smile.

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peakyxtommy · 4 years ago

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Last First Birthdays

Summary: Tommy & you celebrating your last child’s first birthday. You’re sad that the kids are growing up. Tommy provides a listening ear.

Warnings: All Pure Fluff, slight mention of birth/pre-term labor.

A/N: I am not a doctor, but did do some research. Enjoy, I loved writing this. Soft Tommy & Tommy with kids is my forever weakness.

Word Count: 2.4K

Today was a special day. Your last born was having his first birthday today. Attius James Shelby.

“Look at the birthday boy.” You coo, your fingers patting your son’s stomach as he releases a small squeal, happy to see your face. He had just awoken from his pre-party nap.

You dressed him in his 1st birthday onesie, khaki shorts, and clipped his pacifier to his top, which would come in handy later. His little blue orbs stare into your eyes, as you stand him up on his changing table, before lifting him into your arms.

“Let’s go find your dad and siblings.” You peck his forehead, brushing your hand over his brown curly locks. You walk down the stairs, to see the hustle and bustle of the last minute platters of food and drinks being placed.

You walk into the living room to see Henry, your eldest son reading a book on the couch. Lydia, your second child with cards in her hands, slapping one down against the carpet. While Tom sits on the floor with Maeve, your third child, assisting her while laughing at something she says.

“Who’s ready for the birthday boy?” You speak gaining their attention.

“Me! I can’t wait for cake.” Lydia screams with excitement causing Maeve to scrunch her face up in annoyance at her sister.

“I am going to play with Jonas. He’s bringing his new card game over.” Henry responds, closing his book.

“Mummy we sing for Atty, right.” Maeve asks, calling her brother by his nickname, not able to pronounce his full name.

“Yes we will sing and have one slice of cake each. I will be watching.” You wag your finger playfully at Lydia. All the while your husband sits with a smirk on his face, his eyes fully enticed with yours. The doorbell rings, causing the kids to scramble to greet their family and poor Tom left with cleaning up the card game, but it wasn’t new to him with a house with four kids.

“Looks like you need some help Mr. Shelby. Bones of yours are getting old.” You tease, earning an eye roll, as he leans himself gently into you, as your free hand helps him off the floor.

“Keep it up while it lasts, you are right behind me.” He chuckles pulling you into his side. “You look lovely, dress suits you well. Always a beaut.”

“Why thank you, my love.” Your lips press against his cheek.

“Let’s go birthday lad, we have to spend time with our crazy family.” You laugh as he takes your son from your arms, fingers entwined with yours as you make your way to the backyard. - The party was a smash. It was an overall great day with your’s and Tommy’s family and a few close friends. You hoped Tom was able to get Lydia to bed because she had a sweet tooth almost as bad as you, knowing someone gave that girl a second piece of cake (John), which was more unnecessary sugar the girl needed in her system, hoping she wouldn’t have a stomach ache from all the treats today.

Atticus enjoyed being passed around, trying cake for the first time, and being more interested in the wrapping paper than the presents. You took enough photos to last a lifetime.

As you rock your son asleep in his rocker you mind couldn’t help but think back to what a year it had really been since he was brought into the world, a miracle really. You couldn’t take your eyes off the photos you would switch out periodically (as you took new ones) around his bedroom. Keeping the same ones you took of him when he was just born, when he arrived home, family photos throughout the year. The images floating in your head. The memories forever imprinted in your mind.

He was born eight weeks early in September.This pregnancy came as a surprise as you and Tommy weren’t expecting to have any more as your hands were full with three kids already. You both weren’t getting any younger.

When you told your husband the news, he took it in stride, telling you how excited he was, despite the chaos of his world around you. All your pregnancies so far were a breeze but this one was stressful. Tommy tried his best to be home, get extra help around the home with the children, and get your older two children to be more helpful when possible.

Your water broke 8 weeks early and you had to have an emergency c-section. Tom was by your side through it all panicking on the inside but putting a brave front on for you. He wheeled you to the NICU to see your small infant son with tubes hooked up to him. Learning how to connect with him through the two small holes of the incubator. That was the start of a journey, for the family.

It definitely put a strain on your marriage of having Tommy balance work, the kids, and taking time visiting the hospital and helping you recover. Both your families provided as much support as possible. The car ride home was nerve wracking having to remember all this information and doing this without the help of the nurses.

Atticus settled in pretty quick to the environment and his siblings who would come to say goodnight to their little brother. It would be hard to sleep during the night with either one of always getting up to check on him, even if he was just sleeping peacefully. He was a little behind his milestones which was to be expected but each step of the way was worth it. He was growing healthily, was able to say little phrases, and was getting closer to walking. He was the calmest out of all your children and easy going.

Your heart was happy to celebrate his first birthday. All your children’s birthdays made you emotional, as you knew they weren’t going to stay young - little - forever. As much as you both wanted them to. This one was the last first birthday you were going to celebrate, as you weren’t planning on having anymore children. Atticus like the rest of your kids were going to grow on their way to independence and need you less and less. You knew you had to let them find their way in this beautiful but cruel world.

“Knew I'd find you in here.” His voice brings comfort to your heart as he whispers to you in the dim lighting across the room, opening the door, just leaving it cracked a bit.

“The rest of the crew are finally to bed and remind me to slap John on the back of his head the next time I spot him for giving Lydia a second piece of cake.” His head shakes with a roll of the eyes as he paces across the floor, to take half a seat on the arm of the rocking chair. You can’t help the smile that plays on your lips.

“Those two are as thick as thieves, poor lad can never say no to her. Spoils her rotten, like the rest of your siblings do to all our kids.” You reply knowing all the Shelby siblings loved all your children equally, each one having similarities to them all, but knew which children brought a weakness or were closer to their uncles/aunt.

It’s quiet for a moment, just the two of you, staring at your sleeping son in your arms. “You know he’s not going anywhere, none of them are. They’re always going to need you, need us. Hell, even I'll need you when I'm old and grey.” His lips peck the top of your head, fingers squeezing your shoulder with gentle reassurance.

He knew you like the back of his hand. His words rang true in your mind and heart, knowing this wasn’t the first time he found you in this spot, with the same thoughts, that come along with parenthood.

You wanted old and grey with Tom, you wanted to believe in it, even though you both knew it wasn’t promised not in his world especially. You were blessed with him thus far, this man aged like fine wine the older he got. You could tell he was getting older in trying to keep up with the energy of the kids, the glasses you adored, and the crow’s feet that was starting to make an appearance.

“I know, just working myself up over the small things. I know we don’t have to worry but I do. Just want to make sure everything will go right. Henry is going to be a teen soon, that boy is too smart for his own good. Lydia is just as stubborn as you are and free-spirited but reminds me of you. Maeve is sweet and our little helper, she’s only just started preschool. Both of them wrapped around your finger in different ways.

I accepted it then in my mind after Maeve but then Atticus came along. I think about the what if’s of that day, the weeks passed, but then I'm reminded of today. How it all feels right and complete. It all goes by so fast, I just want to hold on to this moment, ya know.”

He listens to your continuous thought, walking through it as you speak your mind. You were a deep thinker and took everything to heart because you cared so much. It was the little things that added up. That made life sweeter than the grand things. That was one of the things he loved the most about you, the thing that attracted him from the very beginning of your relationship. He doesn’t miss the quiet tears that release gently out your eyes, the smallness of your wet voice.

He knows what you mean because he has the same thoughts, even though he doesn’t always share them. He has enough nerves for his lifetime and lines in his forehead to prove it.

Henry the eldest reminded him of the earlier years of your relationship. Young, in love, just starting out. The excitement of your first born. He knew after Henry was born, he would do everything in his power to stay alive. He was smart, a leader, and enjoyed spending time with his cousins. He was a younger version of himself, but better. He was glad for it.

Lydia came a few years later and she took his heart when his blue eyes met her brown ones. She was a handful from the start (she was definitely his daughter). She reminded him of Ada in her sass and the mouth on her but also John as she was the child that brought the most laughter and entertainment to the family as she was extroverted. They would enjoy being silly together and tease you to no end.

Maeve was like you in all ways, sweet, loving, and ready to help the best way a 4 year old can. She was a shy girl but was definitely a daddy’s girl. Always searching for him when he was away or would try to sweet talk her way to stay up to see him before bed or read her an extra story. Would make herself comfortable in his home office to play with her toys or find a way to sit on his lap as he did paperwork. She would always ask him the sweetest of things or most serious things, trusting whatever answer left his mouth. He had the hardest time telling her no.

Atticus came as a surprise but in the best of ways. His birth changed something within him. Thomas Shelby wasn’t a religious man by any means, but when he watched his son get wheeled away by the nurses and was watching him through the big glass window the first few hours of his life, he prayed hard for the first time, in a long time, since he was 18. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing a child, let alone losing you.

He remembers your tears as he wheeled you to meet your son for the first time. Him reassuring you and himself, that it was all going to be okay. It was this child that made him slow down the most and rethink his priorities, putting them in check once again. These past two years were hard business and family wise. Managing the logistics of expanding and meetings, risky deals/death threats, raising 4 kids, with two under the age of 5 and in need of constant attention.

Handling the nerves of it all, your/his moods, and the tiffs you both would get in due to sleep deprivation, late nights working, stubbornness on both ends, or just not having a minute alone together or for intimacy. Moments like these, in the quiet night of his home with you and the children at peace made it worth every minute of the day. Made him want to be around even longer, even though it wasn’t necessarily promised.

“I do too love, I know.” His fingers brush the sleeping infant’s cheeks, watching as he snuggles subconsciously closer in your arms. He knew he didn’t have to say much because in that small phrase communicated all you needed to know, to hear. The both you could read one another like a book where it speaks for itself.

“Come let’s get to bed.” He hums, blue eyes shimmering with affection, as his lips turn upward in one of your favorite smiles, reserved just for you. His soft lips press against yours lightly into just a small peck. The pads of his soft fingers, brushing against your wet cheeks to collect this remainder of the tears. He stands to his feet, holding the chair still as you get up to place your son into his crib.

“Goodnight, sweet Atticus. We love you.” You whisper, feeling the warmth of Tommy wrap around your frame, chin resting on your shoulder, fingers tangling together, bands touching as you both stare down at your sleeping son.

You knew that everything was going to be okay. Even though you weren’t going to be celebrating anymore first birthdays in your household, you knew every birthday after would still be as special as the last one. You always made sure of it as you loved celebrating birthdays as much as holidays. You had all you needed within yourself, the man you loved dearly, and the four sleeping children you called your own.

#peaky blinders #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #modern thomas shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #soft tommy #fluff #peaky blinders fanfiction

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 23 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Summary: Emily Fox is a talented 17-year-old with a passion for all things music. Her dream is to become a successful singer-songwriter one day. But to achieve that dream, she needs to get into one of the most prestigious music schools in her district – it’s all been part of her plan since she was six. Sadly enough, those schools cost a ton of money that her parents don’t want to invest. They don’t even want her to pursue her dream. So, now Emily’s hustling, working at the music store to save up to get into college. That’s until she meets Charlie, an annoying seventeen-year-old boy with the same dream as her. The only difference is, he’s just doing it. He doesn’t need a fancy college to pursue his dream to become famous with his band. He just writes his songs and books small gigs here, there and everywhere. Will meeting Charlie defer her from her dream college, or will he actually help her achieve the dream?

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

Important note: the characters of Charlie, Owen, Jeremy and Madison are based on the characters they play on the show and i do not own their names, only OC are mine. The songs aren’t mine either, they’re all from the show except for one.

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

“Since when do we go shopping?” I ask them as we enter a clothing store. “We’re not, I just need to pick up a sweatshirt I saw online,” Owen replies and goes straight to a clothing rack, picking out a light pink sweater. He holds it up for us to see. “Nice, huh?” “Pink really is your color,” Jeremy compliments with a smile, then turns to me, “Don’t you think, Char?” I’m aware they’re only trying to keep me busy and happy, but it’s not really working. It somehow feels like I see Emily everywhere I go. “Yeah, it’s a cool sweater, Oh.” Owen offers me a sympathetic smile before heading to the cash register to pay for it. While I look around, shoving clothes back and forth on the rail, pretending to be interested in any of it, Jeremy looks at me. I can feel his eyes burning on the side of my neck. “You okay, buddy?” My question startles him a little. “Uhm, yeah… Just really unsure of what to talk about with you…” I raise my eyebrows at him, fully focusing on my best friend now. He draws in a deep breath. “All I can think about is Emily and how we can get her back, but I don’t know if I can even mention her to you or talk about her because you get all sad and teary-eyed,” he points at me, “Like that! But I miss her so much, bro. Like, I get she was your girlfriend, but she’s become my best friend and I really do miss her.” I manage a smile and pat him on the shoulder. “We all miss her, man,” I wrap my arm around him and start leading him towards the exit, knowing Owen has wrapped up and is in tow. “I swear, if I knew a way that could get her back, I would. But I went over there Saturday, and Mitch said she really wasn’t up for any visitors. I even texted Madi and she told me to leave Emily alone for a little while. I’m sure that, once we come up with a good idea to get her audition back, she’ll talk to us again.” I take a deep breath. “And if we don’t, I guess I’ll just be sad forever.” “And if we don’t,” Owen chimes in, “We’ll take the time to heal. You’ll take the time to heal. Even if that means no band rehearsals for a while until you find your love for music again.” I take in a deep breath. He’s not wrong, and I know he isn’t, but it’s still hard to believe. “I think I left my love for music with Emily,” I say, which earns me a pained expression from the boys. “Where to next? Anything else we need to pick up?” “We could head into the Music Shack?” Jeremy points at the music store at the mall. Everything revolving music reminds me of Emily, but I nod anyway and follow the boys to the store. All three of us walk around separately for a while, and I find myself at the pianos without even noticing. I press a couple of the keys, a soft melody bellowing out until my fingers subconsciously start playing Emily’s song Wake Up. “So get up, get out, relight that spark You know the rest by heart,” I sing out the lyrics I know by heart now. Her voice even resounds in my brain. I wish she were here to sing it for me but instead I’m faced with the reality again that Emily is angry at me and hasn’t talked to me in almost a week. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on without her. The fire in my heart has been snuffed out. “Hey, bro, ready to go?” Jeremy asks, suddenly seemingly nervous. He fiddles with his flannel again, not even daring to look at me. They probably heard me and are now sad Emily wasn’t the one singing the song. Even though it was just one line. “Uhm… Yeah, let’s go!” I step out of the shop and want to go left, but the boys grab my arm and pull me into the other direction. “We came from there, guys,” I tell them as they push me further. “Yeah! I uh… I forgot something!” Owen says, and I can tell he’s hiding something. “Coffee! We forgot coffee!” Jeremy chimes in, pointing to the coffee shop a few feet further. “Let’s go get some coffee, Char!” He grabs me by the hand and pulls me with him into the coffee shop. I look at Owen, who’s looking at something behind him for a moment before following suit. We stand in line for coffee, my two best friends fidgety and nervous. It makes me wonder what’s gotten into them. I want to ask when Owen’s eyes grow wide. “I-I forgot my wallet at the music store,” he says, “How stupid!” And rushes out of the store. I glance at Jeremy, hoping he’d give off some explanation, but instead, he’s looking at the menu, trying to figure out what to pick. “What are you going to drink?” he asks, “I think I might go for a Frappuccino,” he blabs nervously, and I find him still fidgeting with his flannel. “I think I might go for a black coffee,” I reply, suspicion rising within me. “Are you guys okay?” “What?!” Jeremy suddenly sounds offensive. “Of course we’re okay! Just a lack of coffee, is all.” I blink a couple of times. Both of them had coffee this morning. I turn my head to find Owen walking back this way and another guy walking the opposite direction. With his ginger hair and small posture, he looks exactly like Uncle Mitch. “Hey, was that Mitch?” I ask when Owen joins us again. “What? No! I wasn’t—I wasn’t talking to anyone.” He immediately breaks eye contact with me and looks up at the menu now too. “I’m going to go for a cappuccino. What are you guys going for?” Jeremy and Owen have always been weird, but this is topping everything. They’re hiding something from me, and I want to know what. “You’re hiding something from me,” I blurt out. Owen and Jeremy look up at me, both looking like deer in headlight. I busted them and now I’m waiting for a response. “What’s going on?” “Next,” the barista says, and Jeremy steps up to order, dropping the conversation. I will find out what they’re hiding from me, even if it’s the last thing I’ll do.

“What are we going to do about this audition thing?” I ask the boys when we’re walking away from the coffee shop. The conversation in there has been stilted, neither of us knowing what to say. I did ask for an explanation for their weird behavior, but neither of them ever answered. “I don’t know, man…” Jeremy replies, “I mean, I would do anything to get Emily in that school, but they’re pretty strict. Guidelines are guidelines…” “Yeah, they’re guidelines. Not actual rules,” I mumble, fidgeting with the bracelet around my wrist, not even looking where I’m going. “It just frustrates me we can’t do anything.” Owen’s hand comes up to my chest, stopping me. When I look up at him, his eyes are wide, staring at something ahead of him. I turn my head slowly, and when I find what they’re looking at, everything instantly makes sense. Emily’s sitting at a table, eating ice cream with her uncle and Madison. She’s the only one with her back to us. “We’re sorry, Charlie, we tried to keep you away from her when we saw her earlier,” Jeremy apologizes, but I barely hear him. All I can see and hear is Emily. She’s talking about something to Madison. None of the words seem coherent. Then a soft laugh erupts from her body, warming the fire in my heart just slightly. Madison’s eyes meet mine, and they grow in shock. “I think we’ve done enough shopping for the day!” I hear Mitch say and the three of them get up. Mitch grabs their shopping bags while Madison wraps an arm around Emily and guides her away. The girl turns around, mouthing a ‘sorry’ my way. I didn’t think seeing Emily would hurt me so much. Maybe it’s the not being able to talk to her or sing with her. Or maybe it’s the not being able to touch her or tuck a strand behind her ear. It kills me to see her. Because all it reminds me of is the fight we had in the parking lot. “Can we go now?” I ask, my eyes pooling with tears. Both Owen and Jeremy offer me a sympathetic smile before putting their arm around my shoulders and guiding me out of the mall. There’s no way I’m ever going to get over Emily. We need to figure something out.

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years ago

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Dig a Grave to Dig Out a Ghost - Chapter 10

Original Title: 挖坟挖出鬼

Genres: Drama, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 10 - Back to the City

Black shadows rose from the middle of the road, eyes without pupils staring at Lin Yan's car. There were ragged children with skin stretched tight on their bones running around, and even women in palace costumes, stretched out their long white hands, scratching the body of the car with their nails. It was an apocalyptic escape. Lin Yan took a deep breath and accelerated to two hundred and ten kilometres per hour. The trees on either side of the road became looming shadows, and he couldn't clearly see anything on the road. He was firmly pressed back onto the seat by the impact of the acceleration. The uneven dirt road and the speed made Lin Yan worry that the car would flip over at any second. Even so, he didn't dare take his foot off the pedal for a second. The car was like a strong black wind, cutting its way out of the ghost formations in the mountains and forests.

Escaping towards the land of the living.

Just before the needle on the fuel gauge dropped to empty, Lin Yan finally saw the city. He got on the Fifth Ring Road and he rolled the window down a crack. The cool night breeze dissipated the heavy bloody air in the car.

Cities, traffic, human voices, normality.

Lin Yan let out a long sigh of relief and relaxed into the chair.

The events of the exorcism in the mountains seemed like a dream as he drove through the bright lights of the city, but the evidence of the event sitting in his passenger seat was very reak. Lin Yan slammed his hand against the steering wheel, thinking that his life must really be hell. The most damn thing is that, in an era in which people lived in peace and well-being, and the leaders lived in happiness, leading the future of the country with diplomacy and socialism, he had saved a ghost who came to kill him from the hands of a master who didn't know what was going on.

Lin Yan found a secluded place to stop and rest.

"Man, celebrate, we made it out."

There was no answer. The ghost next to him seemed to be asleep, his eyes closed as he leaned on the seat, his black hair hanging down to cover most of his face.

He didn't die, did he? Lin Yan's heart clenched, and then he realized that this thing was already dead, and there's no way that it could die again. No, he couldn't say anything. Lin Yan glanced at him. His quiet manner with his eyes closed was no different from that of a living person. He was even breathing, his chest slightly rising and falling regularly. Dressed like a Confucian disciple, with loose hair that was very inconsistent with traditional practices, his clothes were stained with old blood, but the fabric was still visible beneath it. Looking down, bare feet peeked out from beneath the straight hemline. They were covered with a series of mottled cracks and old wounds like he had been walking for a long time.

Lin Yan sighed, thinking that this time he definitely offended his ancestors. He hesitated for a while, debating between abandoning the car and fleeing or committing suicide, and finally decided to wait until the "person" woke up. "Don't believe the words of the dead, ghosts only remember what they want." The lines from the movie "Voice" flashed in his mind. Lin Yan shook his head, his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. The look in the ghost's unwilling and nostalgic eyes looked too real.

Suddenly, Lin Yan was not afraid of him. He hesitated and hadn't bothered to take a good look at him back in the temple. Ghosts. . . ghosts were invisible and intangible. What does it look like?

Through the ghostly tangles, Lin Yan stretched out his hand and slid away the long hair covering his face.

For a moment, he had prepared himself to see a rotten face, even a skeleton, completely lacking any facial features, but when the black hair fell behind his ears, Lin Yan was taken aback when the man’s sleeping face was revealed.

It's. . . a ghost. . . how could he look so good?

His face resembled those from ancient times, with long eyebrows stretching to his temples, a straightened nose. Between his eyebrows, there was a brilliance that did not belong to this era. His restless sleep was probably exhaustion from what the temple master put him through. He was frowning, curled up in his sleep, as if he was still protecting the little wooden block.

What? Such a good complexion. Maybe it wasn't all that bad having an early death to keep these looks. What the hell, this ghost looks good.

The skin was also very smooth, like a jade carving, with invisible pores.

Lin Yan glanced at him sympathetically, and his heart lurched. This guy didn't just think of me as his dead wife who he didn't had died years ago. He was desperately trying to achieve this virtue for some surrogate substitute. The things that happened in the temple made Lin Yan feel a little guilty. He couldn't help but brush away the broken hair from his neck and gently wipe the dried blood on his face with the back of his hand.

The ghost startled and his eyes snapped open, staring at Lin Yan with spite.

Lin Yan yelled out of fright, and he instinctively covered his neck with his hands.

The target of the attack this time changed to his shoulders. A pair of infinitely powerful ghost hands squeezed Lin Yan's shoulder blades harder and harder. He could almost hear the rattling of bones, and there was a burst of pain in his shoulders. This shit was endless. Lin Yan panicked and scrambled for the car door like a wild animal, but when the car was parked, it was automatically locked and could not be opened.

The car was so dark that he couldn't find the button that controlled the door lock. Lin Yan had to fumble around near the small green light on the control panel. The ghost's hand slid off his shoulder and touched the wound on his forearm. After hesitating for a while, he leaned over and lowered his head to gently sniff the newly scabbed-over knife wound.

Lin Yan remembered that he was still sprinkled with the Yin and Yang energy stone powder, there was only a human scent remaining at the place of the cut. He couldn't help but rub his shoulders and let out a laugh.

"It's me, don't smell it. It's not the real scent."

The ghost gave a long sigh and pulled Lin Yan's arm into his arms. Lin Yan looked at him blankly. All the energy he had disappeared with the obedient look and he had to let go of the door handle. Leaning towards the passenger seat, he rested his face on the ghost's chest.

"Brother, I'm sorry about today. You were almost hung up by the old monk without even knowing it. I owe you, let's not take this as an example, though."

The ghost's arm was wrapped around his waist, and Lin Yan's cheek was tickled by the long hair.

"Do you miss your wife?" Lin Yan grabbed the hand on his waist. He intertwined their fingers and whispered, "I have always missed my ex-girlfriend, but once you break up, it's done. You have to move on."

"It was wrong for me to dig up your grave, but this is what I'm learning in school. Whatever my professor tells me to do, I have to do it. Don't pester me, reincarnate instead. In due time, come back as a young lady or little loli in your next life and find Uncle for some sweets."

"When you grow up, Uncle will introduce you to someone."

". . . Forget it, you don't understand anyway."

Quietly in the car, the neon lights of the city reflected on the windows, and the Apple logo on the top of the tall building in the distance exudes cold white light. There were groups of people coming and going on the road. Groups of little girls changed into their summer clothes and carrying shopping bags, laughing and playing together. The boy was wearing headphones and concentrating on leaning against the window to play mobile games, probably because he was impatiently waiting for his girlfriend.

In the Audi parked by the roadside, Lin Yan and the ghost leaned against each other. The hustle and bustle outside the window seemed to fade away. All that was left was an unusual sensation. In an era that promoted independence and material desire, a bustling city, and impetuous life, full of voices, never really connected with him.

He was often driven to despair by such loneliness.

He never knew anyone else who felt this way. When people see other people, they start to act like dogs. Lin Yan raised a labrador who was always innocent and enthusiastic with his round eyes waiting for the owner to return home, more loyal than his own lover. He suddenly admired the ghost in front of him. No matter what reason he had for following him, destroying his life, or whether they really had a relationship, he had the courage to travel through hundreds of years and walk alone in this era that did not belong to him. Lin Yan wondered if he would be anxious when he walked through the tall buildings with billboards behind him. So. . . what was his motivation?

Lin Yan took out his cell phone to send a text message to Yin Zhou. Things had changed so fast. A few hours ago, he was shouting that he was going to kill the troublesome ghost, but now he was cradling him and watching the nightlife. The fluorescent light was dazzling in the dark. Just as he wrote out the fourth word, the screen was suddenly covered by someone's hand. Lin Yan pulled the hand away, but the ghost reluctantly covered the screen again, glowing light leaking through the gaps of his slender fingers. Lin Yan couldn't help but chuckle. He thought this ghost was very interesting. This child had a temper, so he locked the screen and coaxed him softly: "Stop, don't be angry." He pulled himself out of the ghost's arms and tugged on his sleeve cuff. The ghost obediently leaned over onto Lin Yan's chest, and Lin Yan slowly straightened out his hair with his fingers.

"There are still a few hours before dawn. I'll hold you until you fall asleep. Today, you were punished by the old monk." Lin Yan said. He could only breathe out a few times. Lin Yan shook his head at the misty figure in front of him, thinking about how he could pay for the sins he committed. He must find a way to break this ghost's obsession with the world and let him reincarnate in peace.

#dig a grave to dig out a ghost #dig a grave to dig out a ghost translation #chinese novel #chinese bl #english translation #yaoi novel

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corolune · 4 years ago

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Breathing Underwater / Chapter One — Zephyr

AO3 / Tumblr Alex had always known he wasn’t like other children. They didn't hear the song of the ocean in their ears, or feel the thrumming rhythm of the waves in their hearts like he did. Then he finds a silvery coat made of seal fur, glistening and calling him to slip it on — and everything he thought he knew about himself washes away like foam on the sea. Alex Rider is a selkie, and this is the story of how a seal becomes a spy. Prologue 〰 Chapter 1: Zephyr 〰 Chapter 2: Nimbus

zeph·yr — a light wind from the west.

Alex Rider was seven years old when he learned that none of the other children heard the ocean’s song in their ears. A half-formed rhythm that beat in time with his breath, the way the Thames rushed in tune with the hustle and bustle of London.

Mrs. Smith held her finger to her lips, quieting the loud chatter of the class, and beckoned Katie to continue her show and tell.

“And this one,” Katie held up a large, spiralling shell in her hands, “is called a conch shell. When you hold it up to your ear, it sounds like you’re at the beach! It has ocean sounds in it and it’s really really cool. Miss, can I pass it around, for everyone to hear?”

“Yes, you may, but we’ll have to be quiet so we can hear the ocean waves, right class?”

As the shell made its way around the circle of children, Alex leaned into Tom and whispered, “Why would you need a shell to hear the ocean? I can hear it just fine wherever I am!”

Tom shot him a curious look from under his curly, dark fringe. “Yeah, you can imagine how it sounds, but with the shell you can really hear it!”

Alex furrowed his brow, shaking his head, but decided to wait and see what exactly this ocean sound was. The others oohed and ahhed excitedly, holding the conch up to their ears, and soon enough it was his turn.

Tom bounced in place, eyes going wide as he handed the shell over to him with a grin. Cupping it gently to his ear, he listened and waited, but there was nothing other than the sound of air rushing through the twists and turns in the spirally shell. Squeezing his eyes shut and clapping his hand over his other ear, he strained his hearing, but it still sounded nothing like the ocean.

When he blinked his eyes open, it was to Tom’s concerned look, and his neighbour poking his arm.

“Come on Alex, it’s my turn!” James whined, as Alex continued to stare at the shell in his hands. He passed it over to him, leaning over to Tom.

“That didn’t sound anything like the ocean.”

“What are you talking about, mate? That totally sounded like waves on a beach!”

“Waves? But the ocean sounds like a song Tom, and there’s just air in that shell!”

Mrs. Smith cleared her throat, and Alex realized that his whisper was perhaps not much of a whisper after all. “Would you boys like to share what’s going on?”

“Sorry Miss,” Alex mumbled, as Tom continued to glare righteously at him.

“Tom? Is something the matter?” Mrs. Smith raised her eyebrow pointedly.

“Sorry Miss, it’s just that Alex said the shell doesn’t sound like the ocean at all!” At this, the rest of his classmates' voices rose into a rumble and Alex’s cheeks grew pinker by the second.

“It sounds like waves, I suppose, but not like the ocean,” he tried to explain.

“But waves are the ocean!” James exclaimed, while Crystal gasped at him. “If it sounds like waves, it sounds like the ocean,” she said.

Alex sunk deeper into his seat and vowed to never bring up this topic again. Never ever. Especially the bit about the ocean song, which Tom teased him about for weeks afterward.

〰〰

Alex spent his days doing schoolwork, playing football, and sneaking onto the tube with Tom to go to the shops downtown. He learned to avoid other topics, too, like how Ian left him alone at home, or in a hotel when they were on holiday. Or how sometimes, Ian would come home from work trips covered in bruises and scrapes. He made friends easily enough, and then Ian hired Jack to keep him company. It helped him forget that feeling of loneliness that hovered over him like a rain cloud, as if there was something he was missing, like the melody of a song he couldn’t quite remember.

Sometimes, when he was alone at night, he stared up at the stars from his little window and wondered what his parents were like. He barely remembered much of when he was little. Sometimes he thought of the light on the surface of the sea, reflecting into the water below where kelp waved in giant fronds. He remembered cold air on his face and the smell of salt. His parents must have loved the sea, to have taken him to the beach as a baby.

The months passed by, and he got a new bicycle, learned Jack was terrible at cooking, and finally watched the X-Men films Tom had been gushing about. Soon enough, his tenth birthday had come and gone, and summer was upon them.

When the high tides came, at his uncle’s lake cottage in the country, Alex’s blood thrummed hard in his ears. The dark night blanketed the small hamlet, an inky sky bleeding into the city lights that he could see far into the distance. A little lake, too big to be a pond, rippled in the balmy breeze as he lay propped up on his elbows in the grass nearby. If he closed his eyes he could hear the water’s shush-shush-shush in time with his heartbeat.

He was a city boy, but something about the vast, empty lake called to him. He supposed other ten year olds would feel a bit frightened, left alone in the wilderness for hours, where the nearest city was a half hour’s drive away. He never liked the country very much, not when he and Ian went into the woods or hiked up a mountain. But here, there was something that quelled the itchy feeling that had him feeling lost, like he was holding a puzzle piece that wouldn’t fit.

When he heard the car rumbling on the dusty path, he rolled onto his knees and peered over the cattails in the moor. Ian was back from his trip into the little town, and maybe now he would finally stop being so mysterious and tell him the real reason they were here.

“Alex! Come and help me with these,” Ian called, opening up the boot of the car.

Scrambling down the grassy knoll, Alex reached him to see old crates and crumbling piles of paper amongst the grocery bags.

“What’s all this? Where’d you get all this old stuff?”

Ian smiled crookedly. “Help me haul it inside and I’ll tell you!”

The crates were splintered and creaky, rocking with every step on the uneven cobblestone of the driveway. The papers were bundled into musty files, but between the two of them it was short work to gather everything into the foyer of the little cottage.

“So did you drive us up here to go to an estate sale or something without me? Bet I could have found something a lot cooler than some old paperwork.” Alex grinned as he put down the last box.

Ian chuckled, shaking his head. “I didn’t buy any of this. Lucky for me no one had come across it yet.”

He pried one of the crates open. Inside, there were soft cotton dresses, yellowed with age, in floral prints and geometric lines in vibrant colours.

“These things, they’re your mother’s.”

He blinked, looking up sharply.

“My mum’s? But...I thought there wasn’t...” Alex stumbled over his words, confused and hopeful all at once. “I thought there wasn’t anything left of hers,” he finished in a soft, timid voice, feeling something pull at his chest. He ran his fingers over the soft fabric, trying to remember his mum’s face. The smell of sea salt wafted up from where he shook out the folds. A large seashell, curved into a spiral, fell out as he lifted it away, clattering onto the wooden floor, and he reached after it. In his hands, the shell was smooth.

“I didn’t think so either,” Ian said. “But last time I came up here, remember I had to check on some things for our holiday?”

Alex nodded, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears like the thrum of the ocean.

“Helen—your mum—she had a safe in the little bank in town. Just by chance that the man there recognized the name Rider, good thing we weren’t playing disguises, eh?”

Alex had moved onto untying the twine from the bundles of files. The folders were dry, caked with dust, and brittle. The papers inside were less dusty but equally crisp with age. Inside they held an eclectic mix of newspaper clippings and postcards, photographs of people he didn’t recognize, and pressed flowers. Little mementos of a life lived, a life that Alex had had little chance to wonder about.

His parents had died in an accident. But in him now, seeing these objects that his—mum—had once lovingly saved, a spark flared into a hopeful warmth. He read and read his mother’s journal until his eyes slid shut, and he felt Ian lift him up and tuck him into bed. He dreamt of Venice and Prague, of coffee shops and delicate flowers blooming under gentle care. His dreams were full of strange people and stranger plots surrounding both his mum and his dad.

〰〰

The next morning when he woke, he could feel the ocean’s rhythm in his ears, louder than it had ever been before. He stumbled out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, to see Ian already awake and halfway through his toast.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Ian said around a mouthful of crunchy bread.

Plopping into a chair, Alex stole some from the pile for himself, spreading a very generous amount of jam onto his piece.

“Hmmm,” he hummed. The jam was really very good. Actually, now that he thought about it, he felt very good too, light and happy for the first time in, well, a long time. If he concentrated hard enough, he could even make out words in the usually jumbled melody in his ears.

Come...sea...little...

He chewed over this development as he finished breakfast, glancing at the crates and papers still piled up in the foyer from the night before. There was just one box he hadn’t gotten to before falling asleep — it was sealed shut so tightly that he hadn’t been able to pry it open by himself.

Ian noticed his gaze. “We can bring those with us for you to keep, when we drive back home.”

“Yes, I’d like that,” Alex nodded. “But I didn’t get a chance to look inside that one, can you help me get it open?”

Without noticing it, he found himself in front of the small box and running his fingers over the little notches in the wood, as if he’d been pulled towards it. A dull rhythm echoed in his ears like a siren song.

Armed with a sharp knife, his uncle pried open the lid. Whatever was inside was wrapped in packing paper and plastic, and an unassuming beige envelope rested on top. “For Alex R.,” it read in curly script, and the back of it was sealed shut with a sticker in the shape of a round, pink heart.

Ian leaned over his shoulder, humming with interest at this new mystery. “I’d reckon your mum left you this, Alex. Strange that I never came across any of this when you were younger.”

“You mean this is all a lucky accident? If we hadn’t come here...if you hadn’t gone to that bank, I wouldn’t have ever gotten any of this?” It wasn’t the first time Alex had had this thought since Ian first told him what he’d brought, and it seemed a little too much like coincidence.

“Perhaps, but then again, maybe she’d assumed you’d go looking for her things one day or another. Either way, it doesn’t matter — go on, open that envelope, I’m dying to see what’s inside just as much as you are!” Ian grinned, and Alex could feel the excitement rolling off of his uncle, who was always thrilled to play detective. Truth be told, he was excited too — it wasn’t everyday that he discovered an old family treasure.

The sticker peeled open easily, its stickiness long since disappeared. Inside, there was thick, creamy stationery paper, folded into thirds, and something shifted inside with a dull clinking sound. A golden chain slid out, flowing into his palm like liquid metal. Tiny shells dotted the chain and a small seashell hung from the middle.

“I remember that necklace,” Ian said thoughtfully. “I only met your mother a few times, but I can remember her wearing it — the seashell opens like a locket, I think, though I can’t recall what was inside it.”

Alex was more interested in the letter than a piece of glittering, girly jewelry, and he was happy to hand it off to Ian to inspect. Unfolding the elegant paper, he shouldn’t have been surprised to see his name on it, but he still couldn’t hold back a small gasp. The curly letters were undoubtedly his mother’s.

Dearest Alex,

In this box is something that has been yours since the day you were born. I’ve kept it safe and hidden, and hopefully you will find it one day when you need it. I wish that I was able to share this with you, face to face.

You must know by now, that you are different from other children; I am sure you never had to be taught to swim, and that the waves call to you in a way unlike anything else. You make friends easily, and others are charmed by you when you smile. You get those traits from me.

There is something else you get from me, too. Like me, you are a selkie, and your life is equally in the sea as it is on land. The sealskin in this box — this is yours. Wear the coat and you will swim as a seal, slip it off and you will walk once more.

Make sure to never lose your skin, always keep it safe and hidden, always keep it a secret. If you lose your skin, you must find it before someone else takes it and holds power over you.

My mother gave me this necklace, and now I’m giving it to you—a rare shell that will be a compass to your coat should you ever lose it. I hope that one day, you will find someone you trust with your life, someone you can share your secret with.

I love you with all my heart, my darling son.

Your Mum,

Helen R.

With slightly watery eyes, he looked up to see Ian nonchalantly trying to read the letter from where he sat next to him. Nothing in the letter made any sense to him—he’d heard of selkies of course, but the idea that his long lost mother was a seal was so weird that it passed right over his head. Distantly he noticed Ian taking the letter from him to read properly, but Alex was too much in the midst of an identity crisis to notice.

The soft, crinkling sounds of paper roused him from his circling thoughts. He turned to see Ian crumpling up the packing paper and tearing open the thin plastic that covered the contents of the box, tipping it over.

Soft, white fur with patches of grey unfurled onto the floor, somehow familiar, beckoning Alex. Something in his chest unfurled along with it, and for the first time that feeling of something missing, that yearning for something more, dissolved like foam on the sea. He ran his hands through the short, white fur, and knew that this was what he’d lost, and now found.

“This is yours,” Ian said.

That night, as Ian sat at the dock and Alex, clad in the silvery fur, dove into the cold lake water shimmering with moonlight, everything he thought he knew about himself washed away.

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#my writing #alex rider #fic #my fic #fanfiction #breathing underwater #selkies #selkie au

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zebrabaker · 5 years ago

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Demon’s Daughter: 02

Hey guys! I made a twitter for my stories (@ LilnomeStories) where all polls will be held from now on! Don’t forget I also have a Patreon and a ko-fi now, the links to which are in my bio. Here we go!

Part 1

The same day at lunch, Marinette had just exited the classroom after everyone else had left when she was accosted by a figure dressed in all black. She stumbled back a step, barely catching her balance. She managed to look up at the figure, only to squeal when she saw who it was, and eagerly return the hug.

“Uncle John!” She cried when he picked her up and swung her about. John was not the man’s real name, but a nom de plume he used to blend with the humans. The full name was John Therapon, and he was listed as one of her legal guardians (she had a lot).

“Little Mari!” He shouted, setting her down. He was an odd looking man, with waist length platinum hair in a warrior braid and green eyes like poison, he would always draw attention. He only drew more with his fashion sense. Her Uncle wore a long black trench coat over black skinny jeans and a black button up, with a clunky looking wallet chain. He also wore a thick chain-link necklace and heavy motorcycle boots. Over all, he looked like someone’s goth/emo/punk cousin more than an ancient immortal being who reaped souls.

“Are you the one Dad said was coming to check on me?” She asked, stepping back and adjusting her buns, which had come loose when he had glomped her.

“Indeed, I am, little chaos bringer!” He twirled her around and bowed low, pressing a kiss to her hand. “And for your birthday, I have a very special surprise!” He reached into his coat and pulled out a small business card, presenting it to her with a flourish, and she giggled as she took it.

Turn around!

It read. Marinette spun on the spot and looked up, only to scream in delight.

“DAD!” She flung herself at the tall, slim figure. Sebastian caught his daughter, wrapping her in a tight hug.

“Hello, dearest.” He smiled, flashing his eyes magenta. She flashed hers as well, making them shine a darker shade of gray.

“I thought you were in India, visiting Uncle Agni?” She asked, stepping back.

“A simple deception, dearest. Now, let’s go pick up your mother and Papa, I made reservations at Raven’s Writing Desk.” Marinette cheered. Raven’s Writing Desk was a Michelin-starred restaurant. The owner’s father had made a questionable deal with Sebastian (ten years of life and a successful business, then Sebastian got to eat his soul), so the family got reservations for the best tables and half off whatever they wanted. “We’ll even have some others joining us.” Sebastian teased, patting her head. Right as they reached the sidewalk, a crash echoed from a few miles away, and a plume of smoke filled the air. “Oh dear. It looks like we’ll all have to call and reschedule our reservation. You go handle this, dearest. I’ll go catch up with your mother and Papa.” She sighed, kissed her father on the cheek, and ducked into an alleyway, opening her purse. Plagg zoomed out with a sigh.

“Ooh! Raven’s Writing Desk! I love their cheese curds! Let’s finish this.”

“Agreed.” She grumbled. “Plagg, Claws Out!”

X0X0X

Hell-Cat raced over the rooftops, soaring through the air. The pads in the shape of a cat’s paw on the bottom of her boots silenced her steps, meaning she was a silent black and silver streak, soaring through the air. She landed in a crouch next to her partner and confidant, Coccinelle. Coccinelle nodded at her, twirling her yoyo in front of her as a shield.

Coccinelle’s costume was very different from Hell Cat’s. While Hell Cat wore a black body suit with silver highlights and a pair of pauldrons, Coccinelle wore a short red dress coated in ladybug spots and black leggings. Hell Cat’s boots reached her knees, while her partners went maybe an inch above her ankle. Whereas Coccinelle’s gloves were plain black and only went to her wrists, Hell Cat’s had wickedly sharp silver talons and reached her elbows, where they came to a point.

Even their masks were different. Coccinelle’s was round, and made her blue eyes look huge, while Hell Cat’s was slim and came to wicked looking points on each side of her eyes, making her look more feline. Another feature of Hell Cat’s mask was the magic that made her entire eye gray, the iris a few shades darker than the sclera. While Coccinelle had long, flowy ash blonde hair, Hell Cat’s, when transformed, barely reached her shoulders, and had a blue sheen. While Coccinelle was bright and colorful, Hell Cat was sharp monochrome. The only splash of color was the blue bow around her neck that tied in the front. Lots of small children tended to ask Coccinelle if she was a fairy, since she had wings (They were the tail ends of the scarf she wore) while teens and young adults tended to gravitate towards Hell Cat.

The Akuma was flinging a series of items at them, which all bounced off Coccinelle’s yoyo. The common theme seemed to be car repair. Hell Cat glanced at her partner.

“What’s the plan?” She asked.

“The Akuma is in his utility belt. I distract, you slash, I swing. From there, clear skies! Ready?” Coccinelle asked. Hell Cat nodded and crouched down, her ribbon tail flicking behind her. She waited until the Akuma reached for yet another projectile and Coccinelle began to monologue before diving at him, claws extended to their fullest. She slashed the belt as soared past the Akuma, who quickly dropped to his knees. As the dark magic bubbled from his skin, Coccinelle landed in front of him and captured the butterfly.

“No more rainy days for you, little akuma! Au revior!” She released the now-purified butterfly, and waved to the cheering people. “Kitty, can you handle the victim?” Coccinelle asked, reholstering her yoyo on her belt.

“Sure, I didn’t use my powers, so I’ve got a few minutes.” Coccinelle waved to the watching civilians and ran off, leaping to the roof of the nearest building with the help of her wings. Hell Cat sheathed her claws and knelt beside the victim; a young man dressed in a repair shop jumpsuit that was covered in grease stains.

“Hell Cat? Was I…?” The young man asked, staring at her.

“I’m afraid so, monsieur. May I ask why?” She set a hand on the man’s shoulder and guided him over to a nearby ambulance. The paramedic handed her a shock blanket and she wrapped it around his shoulders, as the other paramedic handed the victim a glass of water.

“My family repair shop isn’t doing so good.” He sighed. “My mom was diagnosed with cancer three years ago, and Dad remortgaged the shop so that he could still support the family and pay for Mom’s nurse. Now, we’re pretty successful, so we almost have it payed off.” He growled, clearly frustrated. “Except some big shot at the bank is demanding the remaining twenty-five-thousand euros in a month, or they foreclose the damn shop.” Hell Cat hissed. The bakery was the most successful in all Paris, maybe even France, and they catered a great deal of important events. Even during the busiest time of year, they would struggle to make that much, let alone have that much that didn’t need to go to other bills and buying ingredients. She had an idea.

“What bank is it, and who’s the one demanding the payment?” She asked, plotting. She did need to make another deal soon; her reserves were getting a little low.

“Um…Monsieur Gerard Lilac, at Goliath Banking. Curse his name!” No one asked why she needed the information. Everyone in Paris knew, if you had a problem, Hell Cat could solve it. No one knew how, just that she made problems (and occasionally people) disappear.

“Hell Cat!” Someone cried, and she looked up to see Alya charging towards her. This was yet another problem with Alya. She never considered the victims, just the next scoop. Hell Cat stood and blocked her view of the victim, and nodded to the paramedics. The two nodded back and hustled the man into the ambulance, quickly flipping on the lights and driving towards the nearest hospital. All Akuma victims got three one-hour therapy sessions, one right after being cleansed and then one each week for two weeks.

“Yes, mademoiselle?” She asked, crossing her arms.

“Why was the victim Akumatized? What will you be doing to help them? Do you intend to use this to track Hawkmoth? Do you have a statement for the press?” Her phone was inches from Hell Cat’s face. Hell Cat’s ears were pinned back, and she was really trying not to hiss. How she was ever friends with the girl she’d never know.

“Mademoiselle, the reason for Akumatization is never leaked to the press. We use every attack to track Hawkmoth. And the only statement I have for you is to get your phone out of my face before I break it, along with your hand. Goodbye.” She drew her staff and extended it, vaulting away.

#cambion Marinette #Sebastian is Marinette's dad #black cat Marinette #dd #ml salt #Adrien Sugar

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koala-otter · 4 years ago

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Different Part II: A Prologue

here’s part 2 to my fic Different! this one takes place before part 1, and features Katara and Aang deciding to have a second baby (and a fair amount of little kid Bumi)

this came out longer than I wanted it to! but it happened oh well

3k+ words, also on ff.net

Bumi began adopting his father’s speech patterns a few months after turning five. It started out slowly, with pitch-perfect imitations of Aang when he said “uh-oh,” and exclamations of “monkey feathers!” that Katara couldn’t help laughing at. But on their most recent visit to the Fire Nation to meet Zuko and Mai’s new baby, without any form of encouragement or prompting from Aang, Bumi had hopped out of his father’s arms and run up to Zuko, greeting him with a cheerful, “Flamey-o, Hotman!”

“Did you…train him?” Zuko had asked incredulously while hugging the little boy.

“Not on purpose!” Aang had insisted.

Bumi, who tumbled down stairs Aang skipped over, and pounced after lemurs that ate straight from Aang’s hand, could not be accused of having inherited his father’s natural grace. But as he repeated the things Aang said, sometimes almost word for word, a certain resemblance began to emerge between them that Katara had not noticed before. The little boy’s blue eyes, dark skin, and wild hair drew many comments about his clear Water Tribe heritage, even when he was dressed in his yellow-and-orange playsuits, but she was glad to see that as he was growing up, there could be no denying that he was Aang’s son.

Whenever Aang requested something from Katara, whether he was interrupting her waterbending or stealing her time while she caught up on correspondence, usually carrying Bumi or bringing him along by the hand, he always began, “Hey, Sweetie, when you get the chance, could you,” and he would ask her to read over his letter to the Earth King, or help find his missing sash, or review a form with him. Now, lately, whenever Bumi called for her attention, he also asked, “Hey, Mom, when you get the chance, could you,” look for his stuffed koala-otter, help him draw a picture to send to his Uncle Sokka, or tell him the story, again, about when Toph met him and couldn’t believe what a strong baby he was. And when he asked this way, with his five-year-old voice and his father’s words, Katara could only kiss his cheek and immediately acquiesce.

So it took her a moment, sitting in Appa’s saddle and looking through one of their bags to find a comb, to actually register what Bumi had asked. “Wait,” she said, turning to look down at her son, “what did you say?”

Bumi stared back at her, innocently enough, from where he was feeding Momo a peach with his little hands. “I just said, ‘When you get the chance, can you please give me a little sister?’”

Katara’s eyes widened, still mildly disbelieving. Bumi turned back to Momo, who by now had finished the peach, and was patting Bumi’s lips to request more food. Bumi giggled, and Katara looked beyond the edge of Appa’s saddle, to the top of the bison’s head, where Aang sat. She wanted to call him. She noticed the tension in his shoulders, however, and the intent way in which he steered Appa, and resolutely turned back to address her son.

“That was a very kind way to ask, Bumi,” Katara began. Her habit of providing positive reinforcement had carried easily into motherhood. “But having a baby—” She stopped when Bumi turned his full attention toward her, his expression one of expectation. She smiled at him sweetly despite the pounding now filling her ears. “Can I ask why you suddenly want a little sister?” she said instead.

“Izumi has one,” Bumi immediately said. “And I want one, too.”

Katara nodded. “And having a little brother or sister—”

Bumi shook his head. “No brother. I only want a little sister.”

“Okay,” Katara sighed. She glanced once again at Aang and began again. “Giving you a little sister isn’t straight-forward. It takes a lot of time, and even then, we don’t know when it would happen.” She watched Bumi carefully. “Does that make sense?”

Bumi shrugged.

Katara gave a short exhale and considered the problem before her. After having Bumi, she and Aang had agreed to wait until he was older to try having another baby. Now he was older, and they hadn’t discussed trying. She knew she wanted at least another baby, and the last time she had checked, Aang wanted one, too. And seeing Zuko and Mai with their new little girl, on whom her older sister Izumi doted, curled up in Mai’s arms and sleeping so sweetly, had sparked an urgency in the longing Katara had so far only occasionally felt.

“Maybe for now,” she said suddenly, pulling Bumi into her lap, “you can try hoping for a little sister.”

Bumi looked up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“When I was a little girl,” Katara explained, “I wanted two things: for the Avatar to return, and for your Grandpa Hakoda to come home.” She paused and looked out at the clouds around them. “I didn’t know when or how they would happen, or if they even could happen. So, I just had to hope.”

“And?” Bumi asked expectantly.

Katara looked back down at him. “Well, the Avatar’s sitting right behind us,” she said with a smile, “and your grandfather’s back in the South Pole.” She used one of her hands to brush back his unruly hair. “But they didn’t happen when or how I could have expected them to. Hoping for them gave me the strength to wait until they did happen, in their own time.” She paused. “Does that help?”

She watched Bumi think about it before he nodded eagerly.

“I’ll hope for a little sister, and then I’ll get one,” he said, bursting out of her arms.

“That’s not quite—Bumi, be careful!” Katara rushed to grab him before he ran after Momo over the edge of the saddle. Once he was sitting down again, she could breathe.

“You scared me,” she admonished him, handing him a peach.

Bumi giggled and watched for Momo to notice and fly over to land on his lap, settling into a position from which the lemur could lick the fruit. Katara, satisfied the two would stay where they were for a while, looked over her shoulder at Aang, who had turned around at the sound of the commotion. When she waved at him, he gave a small smile and turned back around to face straight ahead.

“For now, let’s just hope we make it to Ember Island in one piece,” she said, and went searching once more for a comb.

The decision to go to Ember Island was not necessarily one Aang and Katara had made themselves.

“You look rough,” Mai had said to Aang once he and Katara arrived in her chamber.

Zuko had flushed at his wife’s candor, but Aang had only appeared to laugh it off and greeted her with his usual warmth.

“It’s good to see you, too, Mai.” A little girl launched herself at his legs from behind Mai, and he’d laughed again and bent over to pick her up. “And you, Izumi!”

“Seriously,” Mai said, “you two need a vacation. How long have you been traveling?” She shifted over so Katara could sit next to her on the settee and handed her the new baby.

“Just about a month,” Aang answered, letting Izumi down so she could now throw herself at Bumi. “But it’s been fine. Ba Sing Se’s just never a fun trip.”

Katara and Zuko exchanged looks. Zuko nodded at her. “Was the council that bad, then?” he asked out loud.

Aang shrugged and moved to look over Katara’s shoulder at the baby. “No worse than usual,” he said.

Zuko hummed in agreement, glancing at the corner where Izumi was now showing Bumi some of her toys. He hustled over in a panic when he saw her suddenly pull a familiar, pearl-handled knife from her pocket.

“She’s beautiful,” Katara said of the baby. “Aang, look at how tiny her fingers are.” She beamed at him. “It makes me think of when Bumi was this small.”

“I wanna see!” Bumi cried and bolted over.

Aang managed to sweep the little boy into his arms just in time so he wouldn’t careen into Katara.

“Be careful with the baby, buddy,” he said, smiling at Katara before kneeling to give Bumi a better look at the baby’s face. “This is Izumi’s little sister.”

While he watched Bumi, Katara studied Aang. She had been in all of the council meetings in Ba Sing Se, save one, helping to give updates on the Air Temple reconstruction and stepping in as the Water Tribe representative while discussing trade routes. Then Iroh had invited her to visit a home for older war veterans in the Lower Ring where he was performing a tea ceremony, and asked that she bring Bumi, too, to cheer up the old soldiers. Aang had stayed behind in the stuffy meeting room. When they had all gathered at the teahouse later that day, Aang’s smile was forced, and his contributions to the conversation stilted. Something had happened while Katara was gone, and it had left Aang completely tense and anxious. But when she asked about it, he insisted it was only the general effects of diplomatic talks, and he’d get over it after a night of sleep. That had been three days ago.

“Why don’t you go stay on Ember Island for a while?” Mai asked in her dry tone, watching with a small smile as the baby grabbed Aang’s finger.

“Oh, we couldn’t impose,” Katara insisted.

“It’s not as if we’re going to be there anytime soon,” Mai replied, idly waving at the baby. “The house is empty.”

“It’s true,” Zuko said, now wrangling the knife out of Izumi’s hand. “Ah-hah!”

“Bumi!” she cried out, her empty hand reaching for her friend.

Bumi tore his eyes away from the baby and jumped out of Aang’s arms. “I’m coming!” he hollered, running full speed into Zuko. The three fell to the floor.

“Look, even the kid needs to let off some steam,” Mai said, ignoring her husband’s call for help as the children climbed on top of him. She moved her gaze back to Katara and Aang. “Just go to the beach.”

They gave in quickly after that.

And Mai and Zuko had been right, Aang finally admitted the afternoon after they arrived at the Fire Lord’s home on Ember Island. They did need a vacation.

“Look, even Bumi’s more relaxed,” he said to Katara.

She stopped wringing the water out of her hair to turn and look where he was pointing. Bumi was lying on his back, only halfway out of the water, his face upturned toward the sky. She laughed behind one of her hands.

“I think he might just be exhausted from all that swimming,” she said with a grin. To Bumi, she called, “Need a nap, Bumi?”

“No!” Within a second, Bumi was back on his feet and running along the edge of the water, yelling, “I’m not tired! I’m not tired!” At the sound of his voice, Momo rose from where he was curled up next to Aang and flew after the little boy.

Katara geared herself to go after him, but Aang took her hand in his to stop her.

“If he goes back in the water, I’ll follow,” he said with a small smile, “but he’s fine just on the beach.”

She bit her lip as she glanced back at Bumi, who was now turning and running back in their direction.

“Don’t worry, Katara, I’m watching him, too.”

Katara’s face finally relaxed, and she let Aang pull her down next to him, leaning into him so her head landed on his chest.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go in the water?” she asked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you just sit all day on the beach like this.”

“Yeah, weird, huh?” Aang rubbed his eyes.

The two watched Bumi as he traveled up and down the beach, squatting occasionally to examine little sea creatures buried in the sand. He looked back at his parents every once in a while, waving to them almost as if he didn’t want them to forget he was still there.

“I love him,” Aang said quietly to Katara, waving back to Bumi, “so much.”

Katara looked up at him watching their son and felt her throat tighten. “I know.”

Bumi was the only figure on the wide expanse of sand, Momo flying above him in looping circles, entertaining himself now by creating piles of rocks, one on top of the other, and giggling when they fell over. Once one tower toppled, he set to creating another.

Katara closed her eyes. “Aang?”

He hummed in response.

“What if we tried for another baby?”

She felt his sudden inhale and the way he stiffened beneath her.

“Is this about the council?” he asked quietly.

Katara pulled away from him and rose to her feet. “What?” she asked, irritation creeping into her tone.

Aang’s eyes went wide, and he gave her a crooked, awkward smile. “It’s nothing, never mind.”

“No, I ask you to have a baby with me, and you want to talk about the council?” Katara said, the anger now clear in her narrowed eyes. “You’ve been on edge for days, you barely talked to me before we got here, and now this. What is going on?”

Aang winced and went quiet.

Katara crossed her arms and stared at him with a hard look on her face. When she saw him glance at Bumi, though, she looked, too, and saw that their son was looking up at them from further down the beach, his face furrowed in confusion. She turned back to Aang and dropped to her knees, softening her face and her voice.

“I’m sorry,” she said, gently taking his hand in hers.

“No, you’re right.” Aang smiled weakly at her. “I should be the one apologizing.”

Katara shook her head but didn’t say anything at first, just cradling his hand in both of hers.

“Aang,” she said again, still softly, “what happened in Ba Sing Se?”

Aang sighed. “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“I think we should.”

Aang nodded and then looked out on the beach, his gray eyes scanning as far as the horizon line.

“When you went with Iroh that day, the council decided to ask me about the Air Nomads,” he finally said.

“And?”

“What they really wanted to know is why we don’t have more kids yet.” He paused. “Because Bumi isn’t an airbender.”

A roar of anger surged through Katara, but she kept herself seated, quiet and waiting for him to go on. A quick glance at Bumi assured her that he wasn’t listening and had instead resumed his search for more rocks.

“What did you tell them?” she asked.

“That it was none of their business!” Aand said loudly. He buried his face in his hands.

Katara waited.

“They just kept going on about you and Bumi, about how ‘viable’ you might be to have more kids, and how Bumi can’t ‘continue the legacy of the Air Nomads,’ whatever that means.” He finally pulled his head back and looked at Katara. Her heart ached at his pained expression. “They called it a ‘responsibility to the world.’ To have airbenders who can ‘restore balance.’” He shook his head. “Why would they put that pressure on a kid?”

The anger, the exhaustion, the sadness on Aang’s face reminded Katara of him at twelve years old, of the day he learned he was the last airbender.

“You’re my family,” he said seriously, “and Bumi is our son. I would never want him to think we had more kids because he wasn’t enough.”

Katara pulled him into her arms. He fell into her gradually, his arms making their way around her waist, and his head tucked into her shoulder. She held him and waited for his breath to even, trailing one of her hands up and down his back, coasting along his tattoo and brushing his scar.

Once he had settled into her, Katara ventured quietly, “I’ve never asked, but I don’t think my parents had me because they thought Sokka wasn’t enough.”

Aang pulled away quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

Katara shook her head with a small smile, keeping her hold on him. “I know,” she said. “I just think…” She trailed off, her hand landing lightly on Aang’s shoulder. She cleared her throat. “I’m pretty sure my parents didn’t mean to have me so soon after Sokka. I mean,” she laughed lightly, “can you imagine me wanting to get pregnant again when Bumi was four months old?”

She felt Aang chuckle against her skin.

“The way I think about it, it doesn’t matter why my parents had another kid, if there was even a reason. What matters is that when our parents were gone, Sokka and I had each other.” She traced the edge of Aang’s tattoo with her thumb. “Even after we found you,” she said, “I knew that wherever I went or whatever I did, Sokka was the one person who would always be there for me. And that I would do anything for him.” She finally looked Aang in the eyes. “I want that for Bumi, too.”

Aang nodded at her somberly.

“Having another kid doesn’t mean Bumi isn’t enough,” Katara said quietly, “no matter what the council says.” She gave him a small smile. “Because for once,” she said, “this isn’t about the world. It’s about our family.”

They sat silently, listening to the sound of the waves crashing on the beach and Momo’s chattering to Bumi. There were now two piles of rocks standing in the sand at about half of Bumi’s height.

“We can keep waiting,” Katara finally said, “if that’s what you want.”

Aang pulled away so they were sitting in front of each other. “What do you want?” he asked, searching her face.

Katara laid her hand on his cheek. “I already told you,” she reminded him. “But only if you want it, too.”

He nodded. “Okay,” he said, breaking into a grin.

“Okay, what?” she asked, a smile starting to form on her lips.

“Let’s have another baby,” Aang laughed, rushing forward and knocking Katara onto her back. With his hand tilting her jaw upward, his lips caught hers, and he kissed her soundly, dropping his mouth to her cheek and jaw and down to her neck as she laughed, too.

“Really?” she asked breathlessly, trying to pull herself back up against his shoulders.

“Yes,” Aang murmured in her ear, drawing his arm around her waist and keeping her pinned beneath him.

Katara closed her eyes and clasped her arms around his neck, trying desperately to control her smile as his mouth bumped against her teeth. She hummed as he pulled her bottom lip between both of his, dragging his tongue along her lip, too.

“Bumi’s going to be so happy,” she managed to say against his mouth.

Aang’s eyes opened wide, and he pulled back, bringing her with him and into his lap. “You think so?” he asked, dropping a kiss once more right below the back of her ear.

“I just have a feeling,” she said slyly, thinking of the conversation she’d had with her son just the day before.

Almost as if he knew he had been mentioned, Bumi came running up the beach toward them, Momo now wrapped around his shoulders.

“Dad, look!” he called. Once he had landed next to them on his knees, they could see he carried a rock in his hands, perfectly smooth and round.

“What do you have there, buddy?”

Bumi handed the rock to Aang. He held it while keeping his arms around Katara, examining it from over her shoulder. It fit perfectly in his palm.

“Isn’t it great?” Bumi asked, watching his parents expectantly.

“Beautiful,” Katara said admiringly, reaching out to feel the round edges and smooth finish of the rock for herself.

“You should start a collection,” Aang added, smiling at Bumi. He started to hand Bumi back the rock, but the little boy kept his hands behind his back.

“Actually,” Bumi said, “can you keep it?”

Aang laughed. “All right,” he agreed, “we can put it in your room later.”

“Or we can do it now,” Katara said, rising from between Aang’s legs. She reached her hand out to help him up. “It’s getting close to dinner time.”

On their way up the wooden stairs leading from the beach to the house, Bumi ran ahead of his parents, chasing after Momo.

“What would you say,” Aang asked, catching Katara’s hand with his, “to an early bedtime tonight?” He raised his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Katara laughed. “You want to start trying already?” she asked, biting her lip to hold back her smile.

Aang shrugged, the corner of his lip turned up in a disarmingly charming, crooked grin. “It can’t hurt to practice, right?”

Katara looped her arm around his waist once they reached the house and pulled herself flush against him. “I can’t argue with that,” she murmured.

Aang began to lean his face toward hers when Bumi rushed over to them.

“Mom, when you get the chance, could we get watermelon juice again?”

“Of course,” Katara said, pulling slightly away from Aang. “We can have dinner a little later. Can you change quickly now so we can make it before the market closes?”

“Yes, Mom!” Bumi pulled his rock from Aang’s hand and dashed off to his room.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Katara said mischievously to Aang, making her way to their own room, “but this might delay our early bedtime.”

“The things we do for our kid,” Aang sighed.

Katara laughed. “And to think we want another,” she replied playfully.

Aang’s eyes darkened as he followed after her into the room. “Do you think we have enough time now to get started on that?” he asked, wrapping his arm once more around her waist.

Katara’s hands traveled up his arms and over his shoulders. “We might have a few minutes to get warmed up,” she purred.

With a flick of his wrist, Aang sent out a small gust of air, and the door shut behind them.

#atla #katara #aang #kataang #kataang fanfic #atla fanfic #my writing

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chaos-societies · 4 years ago

Text

Episode 6, The Seven Chaos Princes’ Crowns

Fire was burning all around. It was inescapable. The distant sound of rushing water was not of comfort however. Waves flooded the scene and there were no means of staying afloat. It became impossible to breathe. The shadow of a man was letting out hearty laughs all the while.

“Past…Future… ”

The words cut through the chaotic event. They were clear and soothing, but there was an air of concern in the voice.

“The plant for creation, the plant for destruction... They’re waiting for the controllers.”

A light began shining. It wasn’t clear where it came from but it was blinding. Suddenly there was no more drowning, no more inferno.

“The servers are the seven chaos…”

…

Amy’s eyes slowly creaked open as a ray of sunlight had slipped between the closed shades of the window and landed right upon her face. She rolled out of the sun’s piercing brightness and let out an accompanying grown. “Five more minutes…” She mumbled mindlessly.

After a decent bit, Amy moseyed out from the bedroom and joined Sonic who was already in the kitchen stirring up some breakfast. “Sleep well?”

Amy let out a yawn. “Yeah…” She said without much conviction.

“Oh come on Ames, don’t lie to me. You were tossing and turning all night!” He quickly flipped the contents of the skillet before placing it back down on the stove. He moved over to the table where Amy was sitting and slid a cup of coffee in front of her. “Tell me, what’s up. More dreams?”

“Yeah…” It seems that was as much of a response she was capable of at the moment, at least until she woke up more.

The two discussed them more over breakfast. Amy told Sonic how Chuck comforted her about these dreams of hers and she made sure to remember as much as she could in case anything from them came to fruition. She even wrote some of them down and started her own dream journal. The one from the night prior for sure being noted as the new voice was surely telling some important information about ‘creation’ and ‘destruction.’

The world outside was moist after a light rain during the early morning. The sun was out but clouds occasionally obscured it and gave the air a cool brisk feel to it. The two walked around the wood surrounding the main village. The faint sound of waves mixed with the rustling of leaves in the wind. The two came across a ring of mushrooms and made sure to go around lest walk through. They discussed many things, mostly around the speculation of the recent events – Stark Ruins, the library in Cap, their run-in with the Reds from Rockbase, Chuck’s concern something menacing was afoot. They pondered what could be; evil spirits coming for vengeance, a forewarning of death. Nothing of their speculation was of the positive nature.

Meanwhile, Chuck was reading more from the Stair na Seacht at his place of study in his hut. The cool moist air battled the warmer sun as the two took turns pouring in through the window overhead. Birds were singing outside and the ambiance added peace to Chuck’s focus.

“Come ere spires…blocking…light? Blocking sun?” He looked over to another book and scanned some pages, turning them with a slow pace as he searched the text. “North the South city of trade…” He stopped reading a moment and thought aloud, “The South city of trade…”

Chuck stopped and looked out the window to see the trees. He thought of anything to avoid what he knew was inevitable if he were to find out what mysteries were starting to reveal themselves. But his concern for what may transpire outweighed his desire to keep those closest to him from venturing out in the world outside the haven of South Island. He let out a heavy sigh.

Outside, Sonic and Amy were walking back from their excursion. Knuckles and Rouge were off talking under an oak tree. Tails was sitting around with his nose deep in another book of some sorts.

As Sonic and Amy came around to the main area of the village, Chuck walked out of his hut in good timing. He looked over at Sonic with a non-verbal message that he needed to speak with him. Sonic said some words to Amy and they split as Sonic walked to join his uncle.

“Sonny boy. Enjoy your morning?”

“So far, what’s up Chuck?”

“I’ve been reading and trying to decipher the Stair na Seacht. I haven’t gotten far but there is a passage that uncovered something nearby. It doesn’t say much but something close is much more manageable than anything if it may bring more clues to what may be going on.” He explained.

“Another adventure!?” Sonic asked enthusiastically.

Chuck smiled behind his bushy mustache. “I knew you’d take pleasure in the prospects of possibly another trek into the wild. Despite my concern for your well being.”

“Uncle Chuck, you’ve done so much for us here. And you know we can keep our own. If there is anything we can do to help out your research.”

“There is.” He said quickly. He began to walk and Sonic began to follow. “There is not a lot of definitive phrasing in the book. It’s almost entirely written in riddles it seems, although I can’t tell if that’s intentional or just so old that what it tries to describe and explain was based on limited information of the world at the time.”

“What kind of riddles?” Sonic asked inquisitively.

“Some of it is plane information…mostly lore and ancient beliefs and mythos. Other parts be like directions to pieces of a puzzle that it didn’t even intend to create. It’s got me arsed if I weren’t lying.”

“So what do you need from me?”

“You and the gang, don’t you forget. Not only do I fear this involve the lot of you, you all have a tight nit that surely come in handy in a pinch. I need you to go north again, to Cap and even a bit past. I will have to owe Eiméar more for your visit a second time but–”

Sonic took the chance to make jest, “She was kind but I think we may have put up a nerve on her while we were there.”

“Oh I’ve not a doubt you did you kook.” Chuck answered with a chuckle. He got back to the topic at hand. “The book mentions a place. I think it refers to somewhere at the base of the Sléibhte Scáthaigh north of Cap. If you can’t find anything, don’t mingle about as it doesn’t define a precise location. But it talks about something there, a text or message of sorts. I couldn’t determine exactly. But it was under a chapter referring to the emergence of ancient calamities with the talks of fire and flood. I think it’s relevant based on the runes you saw at Stark Ruins. Might give some extra clues, whatever it is there referring to. And…it wouldn’t hurt to investigate as it will still take some time for me to study the book further.”

“Chuck, you know we’re your guys for the job!” Sonic said with a bounce of his words.

“Ha!” Chuck laughed a bit. “Oh I know you are lad.” His cheery tone at Sonic’s response faded back to emotions of concern as his deepest fear still lingered on his mind; the world could be consumed with darkness and he wouldn’t care so long as he knew Sonic and the rest of his friends and all those in South Island were safe from harm. But he knew there was much at stake and feared it directly involved those he was trying to protect. “Go grab your crew. I’ll let you all decide on when you want to make this journey. The last one was more trying on you than I had ever hoped it to be.”

With that, Sonic departed and bolted off to join the others. Tails was the first one he told as he wouldn’t even consider going anywhere without his best friend and ‘little bro’ as he says. Next was Amy who showed a fair share of concern but also intrigue at the prospect of uncovering more of the world’s secrets. Her dreams were definitely a factor in wanting to know more as well. Knuckles acted annoyed as he would with even the simplest of requests but took the opportunity to give Sonic some slagging saying he saved them last time and they could use his help. Rouge felt similar in the sense of watching out for the group, not so much in the poking fun at them part.

They decided to give it another day or so before heading out. Knuckles took this time to go back to Angel Island. Nack and Bean made jest on how Knuckles was leaving his own chapter of Reds for the Cyans but he was used to this with how much of his time was divided between the two factions of the two Societies. Mighty and Ray were supportive and wished him luck as they knew the dangers of the Greater Area since they too helped rescue the Cyans from their not-so-friendly Rockbase brothers and sisters on their journey back from Cap the last time. Bark was silent as ever.

The time came for the group to depart and was once again sent off by Chuck and Vanilla. The rabbit innkeeper, always the mother, even prepared another care package for them.

The journey to Cap was much like their first, uneventful. A good thing too. They arrived again in the market and were lucky no one remembered their faces based on their last scuffle with the locals. They are a rambunctious crew but were smart and learned quickly. They didn’t want to draw any attention or break out any of their ‘abilities’ as Chuck put it. But that didn’t stop their gaze at the goods and merchandise. Knuckles was particularly fascinated by the hustle of the city. He was too used to the quiet life of Angel Island – the village at South Island was sometimes even too much for him. He would moan and scoff at every Mobians that bumped into him which was a lot based on his larger stature as they walked through the crowded streets.

“Psst, miss.” A voice called out. Amy stopped and turned her head. “Yes you! Lovely pink quills you got.” An older lady called. “I ‘member the days my quills were so well kept. What’s your name lass?” The lady was an old hedgehog covered in a shroud and had many chains beads and pendants hanging from silver wire adorned on her head and shoulders. She had a few gemmed rings and long hanging earrings.

“Um… Amy?”

“Amy, lovely. Short for Amelia?” Amy didn’t respond and continued to stare inquisitively. She looked back at the group who stopped and noticed Amy fell behind. They stood with similar curious looks as to why she stopped. “Ah, no matter.” The gypsy continued. “I can tell you’re special.”

Amy turned back to the older hedgehog. “What?”

“Dreams is it?” Amy was stunned. “Come now, I only wish to help.” Her words were warm and sincere. Amy turned back to Sonic and the others and raised a finger for them to wait a moment for her. She slowly but cautiously followed the gypsy back behind her booth and into a small dwelling.

Amy passed many odd trinkets and oddities as she continued back. The place had a warm earthly glow to it and plants were all around in pots on the floor and hanging from the ceiling. Not too far back, as the place was rather small, the gypsy was sitting at a table. On the table was a cloth with a delicate design and repeating patterns. On top the cloth was a hookah.

“Aye, no need to be alarmed. Tis as much I can say for an old hag pulling a stranger off the street.” The lady said as Amy took a seat. The lady grabbed a hose from the hookah and drew in a large inhale of the substance. She offered it to Amy but she kindly shook her head mostly not even knowing what the thing was. “I saw your lot walk by and must say you are a peculiar bunch.”

“How so?” Amy asked, trying to keep as many words to herself.

“Strong energy coming from the lot of you. Not only that, I remember you all brought quite a stir to these parts a few moons back.” She explained. Amy’s curious yet cautious expression was washed away with a pang of fear. “No need to fret lass. I don’t mind a good show every once in a while. Just happy to catch your lot back through here. Now, last I wish is to intrude but you’ve got something on your mind, something heavy.”

“You seem to already know.”

“So you’re plagued by some dreams. Foreboding yet shrouded in obscurity. I have something to help.”

“Why?”

“Why what lassy?” The lady said as she took another toke of the hookah before standing up and walking over to a shelf full of odd pieces.

“Why are you helping me? If it’s tokens you’re after I don’t have much and am less willing to give them to you. I need them for other things.” Amy explained.

“Ah, though that’d be normally what I’d ask for. Not this time.” She came back with a small box and opened it up to reveal a deck of cards. “On the house this time. However if you ever stroll through and wish to take a gander at me lot then I’d be happy to fulfill those wishes.”

Amy took out the deck of cards and scanned through them. They weren’t any normal cards she had seen being played by the locals in the tavern or out in the street. They each had separate pictures on them, trees, symbols, imagery. “What are they?”

“Tarot cards my dear. To help you translate the messages the world sends you.” She sat back down and grabbed the hose of the hookah except did not take a drag just yet.

Amy continued to look through the cards but then turned to the gypsy with a raised brow. “You never really answered. Why do you want to help me?”

“As I said, I sense a great deal of energy coming from your crew. I sensed it back at your last visit and that was just from watching you tussle around with the street folk. I too have dreams sometimes. And I’ve been waiting to come across you all again. I believe I was told to help you and that is all. I don’t make it a habit to quarrel with the will of the world.” Finally she took a long drag from the hookah and whisked out a heavy cloud of vapor.

“Is…is there anything else you know?” Amy placed the cards back in the small box and rested her hands on it.

“It is not my place, nor yours, to ask questions to the ether. But only receive their answers. This was all I know about you and for both our sakes it may be better that way. Now, I’m sure your friends want to know where you slipped off to ey?”

Amy arose out from the lady’s dwelling to see everyone there waiting for her.

“Ames, what was that about?” Sonic asked.

“I…don’t really know.” Amy answered as she held the box in her hand. She slipped them away in her small pack.

“Probably just some desperate merchant trying to sell her something. Don’t fall to these guys’ scams there girl.” Rouge said as they all started to walk off. Meanwhile the gypsy peered out from behind a curtain in the only window of her home and watched with curiosity as they left.

They made it back to the library and walked in. It did not take long to find Eiméar again, slaving over the task of sorting the books in the magnificent study. “Hello Miss Eiméar.”

They were now back in her living quarters once again drinking tea as she set up for their short stay. “I knew I’d see yer lot soon but I shant have expected this soon.” Eiméar said as they sat. “That coot decided to have you bother me yet eh?”

“We won’t be staying long, no longer than last time. Just two nights.” Rouge explained kindly. “And we again appreciate your hospitality.”

“Well if that old hedgehog keeps his word I won’t complain. As long as you stay out of trouble this time ‘round, that clear?”

“We’ll keep to ourselves.” Rouge answered once more.

“And you got a new lad with you this time. What’s your name?” She said to Knuckles as he stood off to the side.

“The name’s Knuckles. It’s nice to meet you ma’am.”

“Knuckles, well geez, ah could have placed a bet on that one with those sluggers of yours.” She motioned down to his fists. “Another friend or are you some bodyguard of sorts.”

Knuckles smiled and glared over at Sonic to which he just rolled his eyes in response to Knuckles’ leer. “Maybe a bit of both.” Knuckles answered through a grin.

“Aye. Well, what be it dis time?”

“Chuck wants us to look at some place north of here. Said it should be at the base of the Sléibhte Scáthaigh.” Sonic stated.

“The Stair na Seacht is pretty cryptic Sir Charles says. But he said there may be something there that could fill in the gaps to his studies. Maybe in a cave or a hollow. Know of anything?” Amy asked.

“That I do. There’s an old cave I’ve been told up there with old carvings on the walls. Typically an old smugglers den so best be careful if yer plan to be ‘sploring any. Could that be it?”

“Possibly!” Tails answered. “Do you know anything else about the place?”

“Afraid not. Never been meself. Just heard ‘bout it. Not too far though and quite noticeable I’ve been told, but best go in the morning before the sun is past high. They don’t call em the mountains of shade for nothing.” She looked over at Knuckles again. “And best bring your bodyguard of sorts too. It’s abandoned I hear now but ya never know.”

The morning came quickly and the group set off to see this place. They initially ventured east to hit the base of the Sléibhte Scáthaigh and paralleled it north. There was nothing of particular interest for a good distance. They scanned out to the west in the open area before the mountains rose out from the land like towers but also checked directly at their base in case it was hidden before the sudden cliffs.

“Look!” Tails shouted as he was flying high above the rest for a better vantage. “I think I see something!” He zoomed down to their level and dropped down stirring up a little sand as he landed. “There is an outcropping of rocks and boulders not too far from here. Looks out of place, could be what we’re looking for.”

“Great job buddy! I’ll go ahead and scout it out to see and to make sure no one is around.” Before any objection from the crew Sonic sped off in the distance. It took not even a full minute for him to return. “I think he’s right! There is a sizable opening in the rocks. Didn’t see anyone around either.” Without another word he zoomed off again. Tails quickly sped off to join him. Knuckle and Amy ran as quick as they could in the looser ground and Rouge fluttered alongside them.

They reached the structure and saw it to be exactly as Sonic loosely described, a cave with an opening big enough for the tallest of Mobians to walk right in. They made their way down the entrance. Tails dug through his small pack and grabbed a flashlight. It flicked on and they ventured down. The light wasn’t entirely necessary however as a short bit past the entrance was the darkest part. Natural light began to illuminate the burrow through openings in the ceiling.

Soon they came into a decent sized room, one slightly bigger than any of their huts back at South Island. Closer to the hallway that was the entrance was some crates covered in sand and dust. They seemed abandoned and forgotten but the group took note not to stay long in case their owners made a return.

[x]

The sight beyond that was strange and mystical but beautiful. The light from the high sun poured down through the openings and glistened along the yellow and red rocky walls. It was surprisingly moist there and small puddles were scattered on the cave floor until they grew in size where they reached a small pool at the end of the cavern. The grotto there had two large very out of place trees arising from the pool. They arose tall through a large hole in the ceiling. They were amazed they couldn’t see the trees from outside but figured they may have been shielded by other taller rocks that jut out around the place.

One tree was an ash tree, forked into two halves. Intertwined with the ash tree was a white fir that rose up strong. In the pool were some reeds as well. The fact that all these trees were found in a cave was surprising. The water there must have softened the ground to make for a strong root system and the sun shining through must have been sufficient to keep the trees alive but the less than ideal environment surely stunted their growth.

“Hey guys, there’s something along the lines of what Chuck was thinking I think over here?” Knuckles was over by the wall and pointed to some carvings and etching there.

“Ogham!” Tails shouted as he and the others moved over to investigate. Sure enough, a series of lines with hatches and marks were all over the walls of the cave. There was too much scattered around to take note of all the etchings but they examined them nonetheless.

“Surely we won’t be able to write all these inscriptions down for Sir Charles, there are just too much!” Amy pointed out.

“He told me that more than often the writing was used more to inscribe names for memorials or markers for tribes and boundaries. There are a lot of random inscriptions. I don’t want to miss anything but maybe many of these are like that.” Tails said.

“Kind of like a ‘Sonic was here’ thing?” Sonic said half joking as he scratched his finger over some of the carvings.

Tails gave a chuckle. “Probably. Let’s try and see if anything sticks out.”

“There’s something over here.” Amy called out as she was over closer to the trees. “There seems to be more structure to these. Not only that…” She signaled everyone over, “runes!” There were only a few but the symbol ᚦ was followed by the laguz ᛚ that they knew from Stark Ruins. Then again with the first, followed by cen ᚳ and above both was the symbol ᚫ.

“There’s one on the tree too.” Rouge pointed out. On the white fir was an aged engraving, hardly made out but appeared to be another rune, ᛇ.

Surrounding the runes Amy found was a long vertical line of ogham inscriptions that appeared more like text than the others which just resembled single words.

“If anything let’s write these down for Sir Charles.” Amy suggested. They did so and stayed a little while taking more looks around. They wrote down things here and there that they thought might be of interest. The sun that illuminated the grotto was now passed and little light was shining through the ceiling. They took this as time to make their leave and head back to Eiméar. It was early afternoon and with how close to the Sléibhte Scáthaigh they were, the sun was already starting to fall behind the mountains to the east.

They made it back to Cap with no trouble and divulged to Eiméar what they had found. She again told them that though she was familiar with every text in the library, she wasn’t so familiar with all their context and that Chuck would know more. She also suggested Chuck hand them some transcript to readily read runes and ogham if they were to be out doing more of Chuck’s ‘research.’ They made sure to suggest the same to Chuck once they got back.

The day had past and they settled in their own ways for their trek the next day. Tails was running about in the library picking up and reading books of interest. Rouge dragged Knuckles to the market and they promised not to cause any trouble. Sonic and Amy were talking together over tea.

“So she just…gave these to you?” Sonic asked as Amy had the tarot cards sprawled out in front of her.

“Yeah, it was…odd. She said she knew we were special. Also recognized us from our fights in the market last time. She somehow knew I was having strange dreams. I couldn’t say no to taking them especially as a gift.” She explained.

“As long as they aren’t ‘cursed’ or something.” Sonic said in his typical manner of unserious humor.

“No, I think she was sincere. I just am not entirely sure how to go about using these things. There is a placard describing each of the cards but… it’s still a bit confusing.” She was focused hard on trying to remember the cards and their descriptions and the different meanings behind them and how to read them.

Later that evening Rouge and Knuckles returned and Tails was back with a tired brain. The crew went to sleep and awoke to get ready to travel back. They gave their regard to Eiméar once again and thanked her for her hospitality. She now was surer than ever she would see them again and this time expected it to be soon.

Thankfully the journey back was much less exciting than their last trip from Cap back to South Island. They made it home with enough time for Chuck to not grow any concern. He met with them at once on what they had found.

“After last time I was concerned about setting you out again but I guess you have proven that you don’t always run into trouble.” He said with a smirk.

“I told you we were the guys for the job!” Sonic said proudly.

Chuck shook his head lightheartedly. He looked at the notes they made for him and studied them. “You said these were carved in the wall of a grotto?”

“They were. It was weird, in the middle of the barren land north of Cap, here was this little cave with two large trees growing in the rock!” Amy exclaimed.

“Two trees huh?”

“Yeah, an ash and a white fir were growing together. Some reeds too in the pond surrounding them.” Tails continued to explain.

“An ash tree, a white fir and reeds…?” Chuck seemed interested.

“Yeah. And then a BUNCH of ogham inscriptions on the wall.” Sonic spoke up. “Too much for us to write but Tails said you said most of ogham was used for names and markers so we only wrote down a few. But there was one in particular.”

Chuck cut him off. “The one by the runes?”

“That’s the one.”

“Hmm…” Chuck started stroking his mustache as he did when in deep thought. “Cen and laguz like you saw at Stark. And what seems to be thurisaz before them and ansuz above them.”

“Yeeaahhh… Sure.” Sonic said unfamiliar with the seemingly foreign language his uncle was speaking.

“There was another carved into the fir. It was faded but it should be there on the notes too.” Rouge added.

“Ihwaz.” Chuck said all the while writing down his own notes and flipping through a book in doing so. The group sat patient and with intrigue, with the exception of Knuckles who was in the corner chewing on a stalk of grass. “Interesting…” He said aloud as he continued to investigate.

It took a moment before he finished up and turned back to the group. All of their ears perked up simultaneously with interest at what he had to say. “The thurisaz is a rune meaning giants or strong ones, often in association with a conflict. Ansuz quite literally meaning ‘the gods’ and you already are familiar with cen and laguz, fire and water. So these tell me something about giants or gods of fire and water, possibly in some conflict.” He looked up at Amy as he and her were likely thinking the same thing – her dreams seemed to show some stalemate battle between the two forces. He continued, “And the ogham, seacht anord flaith coróin. Seven Chaos Prince Crown.”

“Seven chaos prince crown? I mean, I get the first half Chuck.” Sonic called out.

“There is an old legend saying the Lords of Seven each wore a crown that had a different shard of chaos bestowed upon them. I don’t know much more beyond that in terms of their significance. But these Lords were said to have immense power.” He answered.

“And the rest of the ogham? Any more hints from that old dead language?” Tails insisted on knowing more.

“Hmf,” Chuck scoffed, “dead language. It’s not just dead, and much less a language in the way we use the common tongue. It’s ancient. Found only in old text about ancient times and myths. I had forgotten entirely about it until you came across it at Stark Ruins. But you were right in that it seems the other inscriptions were nothing more than names and markers. An ‘I was here’ kind of thing.”

“Ha! I knew it.” Sonic said gleefully as he was softly elbowing Amy.

“Shh!” She shushed him so Chuck could continue.

“Why was the ogham in Stark in the common tongue then? And also the rune in the tree?” Rouge asked.

“Ah, well that is another mystery. Maybe whatever forces did that horrific deed at Stark knew who ever would stumble across it would only know the common tongue. But then again, why even make it ogham…” He said more so as a question to himself. “As for the tree, it was ihwaz or yew. Odd to label the tree as if anyone wouldn’t recognize the kind of tree it was. But the yew and even the ihwaz was a symbol in lore of death and resurrection.”

“From Chaos comes creation and creation ends with destruction.” Amy muttered.

“Yes, but creation also come from destruction.” Chuck mused. “And endless cycle of death and rebirth. You should all know this from our,” Chuck and Knuckles made brief eye contact, “from your respective ceremonies. One of the few beliefs all Societies have in common.”

“What of those crowns you mentioned?” Knuckles finally spoke up. Though stoic as he liked to be, he couldn’t help but also be intrigued by the information.

“I think there might be more to them than just ornamental pieces associated to folklore. I only know of one currently in existence and even then there is speculation on whether it is in fact one of the Lord’s crowns or just an ancient artifact from a time long passed. Last I heard it lay locked away in secret in a museum in the city of Westport, many many hundreds of miles from here.” Chuck further explained.

“If it’s locked away in secret, how do you know of this thing?” Sonic asked.

“Because I’m the one that found it.” They all froze in perplexion. “But that is a story for another time. I will need to read the Stair na Seacht more to see if this trail of crumbs is worth following. Go get a pint of gat at the tavern and rest up from your journey. I’ll let you know if I uncover anything of worth.” They all got up and moved out the door. “Amy, a word if you don’t mind dear.”

Amy looked at Sonic and he gave her a shrug. She’d join them shortly. Chuck moved over to the sink and began washing his hands. “I know you and I are both thinking similar thoughts.” He finished rinsing his hands and turned to further explain. “Whether from ancient myths or omens of future, your dreams are connected to this vast riddle we’ve been investigating and exploring. Fire and flood…” He paused, “I fear something of the sorts may come to transpire. And a human you said?” Amy nodded. “I think we need to find these ‘crowns’ before whatever man in your dreams does.”

#ooohhhh it's getting good if I do say so myself #chaos societies #episode 6 #seven chaos princes' crowns #sonic au #sonic the hedgehog #miles tails prower #amy rose #rouge the bat #knuckles the echidna #uncle chuck #sir charles #just wish there was an extended version of 'Natural Cause' so it could play though the end of the chapter while reading & not end short

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queensdivas · 5 years ago

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That Silly Wig!

I’ve never written a short so fast in my entire life of my God! Not a super long one because I have other stuff to do sadly!

I was deeply inspired by the recent drawing of @eileen-crys with her comic and I literally threw everything aside to write this! I gotta stop doing this kind of crap so much so I can focus on my remaining school work! But anyway. Hope you enjoy!

That lovely artwork of hers!

masterlist

taglist

@filmslutt @mexifangorl @leah-halliwell92 @i-live-for-queen @its-funny-til-its-not @brianmydear @bonafiderocketqueen @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels @painkiller80 @seven-seeds-of-rhye @seven-seas-of-fuck-you @sevenseasofky

@yourlocalmusicalprostitute @minigirl87 @natalijalucreziah @crayonwriting @owensgrxdy @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie @darlingyourebeingabore @queenwouldyourathers

Rounding up what Freddie calls the Deaklings was a lot more difficult than you could ever imagine. Have to make sure that Laura has her favorite stuffed animal, making sure Michael wasn’t annoying Robert too badly, then packing the diaper bag for Josh and his favorite toys. And all without a nanny! Super Mom right here! Though Chrissy has made it very appealing to finally get one but Robert and Michael are basically grown children so it’s a little easier now in a sense.

But today is meant to a very good day for the six of us which includes Deaky. We’re finally spending some family time by taking them out for a picnic in Bushy Park! We’ve been wanting to take the kids there for a while, yet our timing has been non existent. He has to do some filming for a new music video then on lunch he plans on taking a longer one for us to go.

“Alright kids! We’re moving in t-minus five minutes!” Yelling up the stairs for the thunder of children to start running down the stairs. Robert and Michael were the first ones down as Laura was slowly making her way down with her stuffed Fox Brian gave her when she was born.

Grabbing Josh's diaper bag from the floor to throw on my shoulder to then pick him up from his play crib. He wrapped himself around me as I picked him up. Kissing the top of his forehead as I walked out of the house, locking the door to see the kids are already in the car ready to go. Man did we raise some very well behaved kids! Until Robert and Michael start fighting over their toys.

We arrived to the set where they were filming their new music video as the kids beginning to bounce around in the backseat. I pulled into the parking spot to see Brian coming out with his hairs all in plastic curls in his hair and in his regular clothes.

“Uncle Brian!” Laura screamed as they all rushed out of the car to hug their Uncle. I got out to unbuckle Josh for him to cling himself on me again. Ever since Josh was born he’s always just kept himself attached to me and for a reason he hasn’t really had much interest in John which is very concerning. Maybe it’s just a very long phase.

“Well hello there Daisy! What brings you to our neck of the woods?” Brian picked up Laura who gave him a huge hug.

“We’re going on a picnic to Bushy Park!” Richard yelled as we began walking into the set for the hustling and bustling of the crew.

“Say. Where’s Chrissy anyhow?” Asking Brian as he put down Laura.

“She’s got work and the kids are off with my parents for the week so Chrissy and I could have some us time.” Nodding as we turned the corner for Roger to come strutting out in a school girl outfit! Trying to not laugh but Robert was already losing it.

“Uncle Roger is dressed like a girl!” He began strutting himself towards us to make Laura and even Josh giggle a little bit.

“Can’t believe you managed to round up all Dealings in such a fashion!” Roger commented as Robert finally stopped laughing at Roger’s getup. I’m guessing that this was either his idea or Freddie’s idea. But I’m definitely leaning towards Roger at this point because he’s really enjoying himself.

“Let me guess Roger. This was all you?” Asking as he took off his sunglasses to wink at me. Oh goodness it was! Well he looks fantastic! Brian took off his robe to appear in a pink nightgown and to slip on his pinky bunny slippers. Oh dear God! Wait. ARE THOSE JOHNS PINK BUNNY SLIPPERS!? I got John those slippers back in college because he always complained about his feet getting cold whenever he would come over for homework! He still kept them?

“Love the slippers.” Even one of the buttons is missing when Robert pulled them out when he was a baby. I know it seems stupid to be happy about a old pair of bunny slippers but ya know. We’ve been together for so long and with all our children, it's easy to forget the times when we would do silly stuff like that all the time.

“Mommy where’s Dad?” Laura asked as we could hear John and Freddie laughing down the hallway as Paul came out of the dressing room. He looked at us to roll his eyes and continue on his way to wherever he was going. Paul says that bringing our kids to the studio or the set isn’t a good idea, so John always makes sure we stop by to say hello.

“Dad is probably getting ready so we shouldn’t disturb him okay.” I told her as she held onto her toy fox a little tighter. She is definitely daddy’s little girl and at this age feels kind of empty without him. Trust me it’s difficult when he’s at the studio for ungodly hours and she wants John to read her a bedtime story. She doesn’t throw temper tantrums or anything, just gets all quiet and holds onto her fox a little tighter. Such as she’s doing now. Brian bought that for her on her first birthday and she loved it ever since. Trust me she will never let go of it even if her life depended on it. But it is pretty cute so who could blame her.

Roger began walking us to where they were getting ready with Michael riding on his shoulders and Robert walking ahead of us. Not sure why but Michael has always found Roger to be his favorite out of the three of them with Robert being close to Freddie since he spoils the living hell out of them for birthdays and holidays.

“How’s the music going Rog?” I asked him as we rounded the corner to hear Freddie laughing.

“It’s going great! Freddie’s got another hit in the works so it should be something pretty good as always.”

“Awesome! And how's Dom?”

“She’s doing fantastic! Plan on taking her to Switzerland for the week to celebrate our anniversary.” Oh my god when John and I went to Switzerland before Michael was born was such a wonderful time!

“That’s awesome! Tell her I said hello obviously.” Smiling to see Freddie coming out of their dressing room in their costume. Oh my god they look terrific! Freddie wearing a beautiful black wig with huge pink earrings and pink lipstick. He wore a pink sleeveless top and a black leather skirt.

“The Deaklings!” He laughed as Robert ran towards him and gave him a big hug. Like I said Robert was his favorite and Freddie loved Robert. Hell I think Freddie would want to be his godfather.

“Uncle Freddie! Did Dad tell you we finally got a cat!? She’s super fat, super furry, and the biggest green eyes!” Robert told him which made me smile.

“Never thought she would let you! What’s its name!?” Robert dug into his coat pocket to pull out his Polaroid of the new cat.

“Her name is Matilda!” He handed Freddie the pic as he smiled for the fuzzy cat on the picture. Yes we finally got a cat for the family because they’re easy to take care of, and hello! It’s a cat!

“She absolutely gorgeous. Oh my goodness she’s humongous! Can’t wait to meet her whenever I come over for tea!” Him and Robert began going off as John came out of the dressing room looking like an old lady with puffy grey wig. I couldn't help myself to start laughing for my husband to be looking like my own mother! What on earth is Roger doing to my husband!

“My dear husband what has Roger done to you?” Walking over to him as he placed his hand on top of Josh's head to kiss him. Josh turned himself to start reaching for John to scoop him up and give him another forehead kiss to leave a lipstick mark on his head.

“He’s brought me to misery.” He groaned as he leaned in to kiss me. Giving each other peck to see Robert giggling again at John with Michael just smiling.

“Dad why are you dressed up like grandma!?” Robert laughed with made Freddie laugh. Robert definitely gets Deakys witty comments and his ability to make everyone laugh.

“I think you look cool Dad!” Michael cheered.

“Thank you Michael!” John smiled at the children as Freddie grabbed their hands to start walking them to the set for the free food.

“I’m assuming you’re having loads of fun.” Keeping my eye on Josh for him to latch himself around John as I was hoping in the end. Phew.

“Darling of course.” He kissed my lips again as Laura was still hiding behind me. She squeezed her stuffed Fox trying to hold back her sniffling. Her eyes began to water as her sniffling continued to grow a little more louder.

“That’s not my dad, that old lady doesn’t look like dad..where’s dad..” Wait what? We looked down to see her starting to cry.

“THAT’S NOT MY DAD! WHERE IS PAPA!” Laura exploded in tears as we both looked down at her in confusion. She hid her face behind her stuffed Fox for not knowing her own father before her.

“Laura that’s papa! He’s just wearing a silly costume.” Trying to make her smile but it was not working whatsoever. She was still sobbing as John kneeled down to me to hand me Josh. He moved her in front of her so he could face her and try to calm her down.

“Laura, my princess it’s me! It’s just a costume and a little makeup.” He whipped her tears away so she could see John in all his makeup. She still wasn’t convinced so he ripped off his wig for his poofy hair to expand!

“See? A silly wig and makeup!” He smiled to toss the wig on the ground for her to stop crying. She moved the fox away from her face as she jumped into his arms.

“You scared me Papa!” He got up with her in his arms as her fox dangled behind his neck.

“I’m sorry Princess! Papa wouldn’t scare you on purpose!” John held her tightly as he was so upset he made Laura cry. Even though he’s busy with his work, he loves our little Deaklings with all his soul and hates it when they’re upset. Especially his princess.

“Mr. Hamish doesn’t want you to cry now does he.” He grabbed her fox to place in front of her so she could hold it again.

“No Mr. Hamish doesn’t want me to cry Papa.” She giggled as he put her down on the ground to hold her hand. He even went so far to scoop Josh from me so he could walk with his kids to the set. Grabbing his wig from the floor to watch as he walked away with our children laughing with them.

How is it even possible to love someone so much? I feel like my love for him could explode as he’s such a wonderful father, a loving husband, and one cheeky devil.

#john richard deacon #John Deacon #john deacon one shot #John Deacon x reader #John Richard deacon x reader #queen band #John Deacon Fluff #Freddie Mercury #Brian May #roger taylor #I want to break free #Was inspired by a God!#her artwork is beautiful #made me sob #love dad deacon #respect deacons privacy #my dude retired to fuck off

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iwillhaveamoonbase · 5 years ago

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We Could Be Heroes

Attending a university on the border between Xadia and Katolis, Callum and Rayla have been secretly together for a year now. Coming clean to their families is one thing. Announcing their relationship to the public is another.

_____________________________________________________________

“You know, if you want to talk to her you have to actually talk to her.” Callum was jolted out of his stupor as Claudia brought him back to reality. “I swear, you haven’t been this bad since before we dated. You’ve been pining after her for a year; maybe it’s time to say something.” Claudia was smirking while sipping her hot brown morning potion; the hustle and bustle of the university cafeteria completely ignored by the pair.

“She’s an elf, Claudia. A Moonshadow elf, at that. You know how they feel about humans.” Callum shifted the eggs on his plate in an efforts to distract himself from Claudia’s prodding.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you like her. And she might like you.”

Callum couldn’t stop the awkward laugh as he began to look everywhere but at his friend. “Don’t say things like that in public. What if someone-”

"What, Callum? Figures out you are crushing on a girl you’ve shared classes with since your first semester? She’s pretty and clever, and, from what Soren says whenever he goes to the gym, really athletic. You’d be stupid not to like her. You’re a prince and on your way to become an archmage. She wouldn’t be getting the short-end of the stick by liking you.”

“She doesn’t like me Claudia. Nothing is going to happen between us.” Claudia sighed before reaching over and patting Callum’s hand. “Why do you want something to happen between?”

Claudia shrugged before turning her neck to look at Rayla. “Because I want you to be happy. You light up when you talk about her and smile more after you work together. She makes you happy, Callum.”

Callum blushed and looked down at his own cup of morning potion. “Don’t tell anyone, Claudia.”

“Soren knows.”

Callum nodded his head from side to side a bit. “Why am I not surprised?”

_____________________

Rayla was doing her best to discreetly look at the two humans a few tables away. Her frequent project partner, Callum, and his friend, Claudia. Rayla and Claudia did not get along at first, mostly due to Claudia using dark magic while Callum had somehow managed to unlock Sky magic. Claudia still didn’t see anything wrong with dark magic and it made Rayla, and every other elf in their vicinity, wary of her. The other reason they didn’t get along? Claudia wouldn’t stop bugging Rayla about Callum.

“You’re looking at that human prince again, Rayla,” Bandlr, a fellow Moonshadow elf hissed. He was just a bit taller than Runaan and covered in toned muscles. The sloping purple marks on his cheeks reminded Rayla of the scythes used during harvest time. He exuded power and arrogance with every little move he made and tended to have either a scowl or a smirk on his face.

“I’m doing no such thing,” she stated absently.

“You better not or your uncle will be pissed.”

“Is that a threat?” Rayla glared over at him and could feel the energy crackling between the two. They lived in the same small town and had known most of the same people since high school. For Rayla, it had been hate at first sight, finding his arrogance and knowledge of her life the biggest turn-off she had ever encountered. He was a thorn in her side that just wouldn’t go away, no thanks to the other Moonshadow elves at the university not wanting to kick one of their own out without ‘proper cause’. For Bandlr, it had been lust at first sight. He spent all his time with Rayla either antagonizing her or trying to charm her. He had once told her that he wouldn’t mind it if she came to him in a fit of rage, just so long as she did.

“Maybe. You know how to shut me up.”

“You’re right. I do.” Rayla leaned in a bit, Bandlr smiling wide as she did. He never saw the punch that went straight to his jaw. “Try to talk with a sore jaw, asshole. Don’t forget, I’m faster than you and I was trained by the best.”

Bandlr glared as he massaged his already bruising jaw. The other elves at the table let the two be, already used to Bandlr’s flirts and Rayla’s violent reaction to them. Sadly for Rayla, it only made him convinced she was a ‘challenge’ for the ‘taking’. “To be fair, Rayla,” interjected a girl with long braids, “you spend a lot of time with this Prince Callum. I don’t think anyone back home would approve. Just because our school is on the border of Katolis and Xadia doesn’t mean you can go fraternizing with humans.”

“Ugh.” Rayla looked up at the ceiling, rolling her eyes. “For the last time, back off. I’m going back to the library.” Rayla grabbed her things, roughly pushed her chair in and stalked off, but not before bumping into Callum and Claudia. “Watch it.” Callum simply nodded as he turned away from her while Claudia raised a brow. “Got something to say?”

“The sexual tension between the two of you is so thick I could cut it with a knife. Just tell him you like him.”

“Mind your own business, Claudia.” Rayla walked as quickly as she could out of the cafeteria and headed towards the apartment complexes off-campus. She continued to look behind her and to the sides as she walked. Rayla eventually stopped in front of a luxurious apartment building and entered the large glass doors. The human doorman smiled and greeted her.

“Another project with Prince Callum, Miss Rayla?”

“You could say that. He texted me that he’s on his way, so I’ll wait for him by his door.”

“Of course, Miss Rayla.”

Up the elevator she went and waited in front of a door on the top floor. It was one of only two, reserved for important dignitaries. ‘Fucking Bandlr. When is he going to get it through his thick skull to leave me alone?’ Rayla’s hand grasped her bag as she bit her lip. ‘They know I’m spending a lot of time with Callum. Who else has noticed?’ She was pulled from her thoughts by a hand softly grasping her’s. “Callum.”

“We going to do that project, Rayla?”

“Yeah, let’s get it over with.” Callum nodded as he unlocked the key to his apartment and let her in first. Rayla was always struck by how minimalist Callum kept the large space. The base of the room was obviously expensive while Callum chose to hang his own art and art that one of his fathers had done. Pictures of his family were dispersed among the opulence of the walls and floors. The furniture was a different story, obviously on the cheaper end, but well taken care of. Callum had felt guilty taking the extravagant room so he had asked for cheaper materials to make his space a home while he was at school. “No one would ever believe me if I told them your apartment was the definition of high-low.” Rayla deposited her bag on the chair closest to the door, grabbing Callum’s bag and doing the same right after.

“You’ve been telling people that you come here?” The slight bit of hope in his voice was clear as day.

“No, of course not. If I did, they might think something was going on between us.” Callum looked down at the floor, that glint of hope suddenly dashed. “They don’t have to know anything is going on.” Rayla didn’t give Callum a chance to nod before she had his face in her hands and her lips against his. Callum wrapped one arm around her waist and made sure his door was locked. Rayla backed him up to his couch and they tumbled down, with her landing between his legs and his other hand landing on her back. “I’ve missed you.”

Callum groaned as she began to nibble at his neck. “It’s only been a week.”

“Uh-huh. A week of not seeing other or texting…or those naughty phone calls you seem so fond of.” Callum gulped. Rayla sat up and began to take off her top. “Pants off. Now.”

“You don’t want me to romance you a bit?” He brushed his hands lightly against her stomach, causing her to quiver above him.

“Later. Now, I just want you.” Callum took off his pants and boxers and laid back. Rayla pulled off her shirt and her own pants and underwear. She quickly climbed on top of him and grasped his length. “I’m gonna go fast and I’m gonna go hard. Alright?” He nodded, reaching to grab her hips. She had a lot of pent up frustration in her and Callum knew by now that it was wisest to let her take the lead. Rayla inserted Callum within her. They groaned together as Rayla grinded on top of him. Quickly picking up pace, she leaned back so her hands were resting on his legs.

Not fully satisfied, Rayla came back up and grabbed Callum by his shirt to pull him up to her. She sealed his lips to hers, grasping his shoulders to give her better leverage. Callum ran circles on her hips with his thumbs. Rayla broke the kiss to nibble at his ear. “Ray…”

“Almost, Callum. Almost.” Rayla had never been shy about what she wanted from him and she wasn’t going to start now. She took one of his hands from her hips to rest right on her clit. “You know what to do.” A sharp nod led to Callum leaning forward and nibbling on her shoulder while circling her. “Ah!”

Callum moved his head to whisper a husky ‘I love you’ in her ear. She quietly repeated it back, locking their lips again. A few thrusts more led Callum and Rayla to completion. He gently laid back, taking her with him. “I missed you, too.”

As they lay on his couch, covered in sweat and panting together, he ran his hand up and down her back. Rayla snuggled her face into his neck, mindful of her horns. “Mhmm, that feels nice.”

“Why did you punch Bandlr today?”

Good mood broken, Rayla broke out into a scowl. “Ugh, the jackass was getting on my nerves. Threatening to tell Runaan about me looking at you.”

“Oh. Would…would that really be such a bad thing?” His hopeful tone had come back full swing and Rayla hated crushing it.

“Callum, we’ve talked about this. Just because the elves and humans are no longer at war doesn’t mean that we’re at peace.”

“I don’t want us to be a secret, Rayla. Not anymore. It was nice, for a while, but I want to be more.”

“What more do you want? We have dinner together, we’re exclusive, I spend the night often enough. What more is there?”

Callum shifted so he could look Rayla in the eyes. “I want you to meet my Dad and Ezran. Well, you’ve met Ezran, but I want you to meet him as my girlfriend. I want to meet Runaan and Tinker and hold your hand on campus and-”

“And what happens if it blows up in our faces?” Rayla closed her eyes to try to keep he anger at bay. This wasn’t the first time they had argued about this and she didn’t want him to know exactly why she didn’t want to tell anyone about their relationship. “You do realize that Runaan could pull me out of school, right? Just because I’m an adult in Katolis doesn’t mean that he isn’t allowed to make those decisions for me in Xadia. The press will hound us both. Why do you want to ruin what we have?” She began to wriggle out of his hold, frustration making her want to move far away from him.

“Why are you scared of what we have?”

“I’m not scared.” Rayla got up, pulled on her underwear and began to move towards the kitchen, Callum following her as he pulled his own boxers up. She went into the cabinet and got a purple glass out as she looked back at him. “I have my own glass here, Callum. I have a whole drawer of my clothes in your apartment. Anyone who looks closely enough at my texts would know that I’ve been deleting more than half of the ones from you. I keep a freaking toothbrush in your bathroom! Do you think I would do any of that, of this, if I was scared?” Her arms were wide and disbelief on her face. Why couldn’t he understand just how big all of that was?

He gave her an incredulous look as the same frustration that had taken over her began to seep into his voice. “Yes, because you and I are the only people that know that any of your stuff is here.”

“I thought you wanted to stay out of the spotlight-”

“Don’t change the subject, Rayla. It has never been about us going public with the world. It’s about telling our families. It’s ALWAYS been about telling our families. Do you think I like telling Ezran that there is nothing between us? I have never had to keep secrets from him before and I don’t like doing it now.” Rayla understood that. Ezran was understanding and had a big heart. She couldn’t imagine anyone felt good after lying to him, least of all Callum.

“And what about your dear Aunt Amaya? Doesn’t she hate elves?”

“She’s marrying a Sunfire elf named Janai. Try again.”

Rayla paused as she looked at him with furrowed brows. “Is she really?”

“It’s all over the news in Katolis. ‘General of the Katolian Army chooses to marry a general of the Sunfire Corps.’”

“I haven’t heard anything about it.” A rough sigh followed by a groan as she got her thoughts back to the topic at hand. “Callum, I want to tell them. I would love to tell Runaan and Tinker about you.”

“Then why can’t we?”

“You don’t see the way the elves look at you. Not just the Moonshadow groups, but all the others. You’re a human prince, even if it is by marriage. King Harrow has not hidden how much he considers you to be his son and you have a target on your back from anyone who doesn’t like him. On top of that, you’re learning primal magic. There are elves that think you’re dangerous because you are the first human ever to learn how to use primal magic without a primal stone. Do you think that you being with an elf is really going to make them think ‘oh, that Prince Callum isn’t such a bad guy? Sure, he’s learning how to use primal magic and is trying to unlock the ability to use all six primal sources, but damn, he’s dating an elf.’”

“So, me wanting to learn magic the right way and rejecting dark magic is the problem?” Callum’s hands were in his hair at this point as Rayla looked ready to throw her glass on the floor. She quickly put it on the counter before she broke it.

“No, Callum. The problem is that you’re human. There are elves all over Xadia that will never accept you, accept us, no matter what you do.”

“Why do you care about them?”

“Because I don’t want to come home to you dead! OK?! I don’t want to walk into your apartment, after we went public or decided it was okay to make-out in the library, just to find your body or to have you end up dead in an alleyway.” All of Rayla’s fears began to pour out of her. She couldn’t stop once she started and wasn’t sure she wanted to. Callum needed to hear why she was fighting him on telling anyone about them. “I was trained in the arts of Moonshadow elf assassins. I know of ways to kill you and make sure that no one will ever find out it was me. And you can bet that I’m not the only one that knows that. Bandlr would be first in line if we went public and if he doesn’t succeed, someone else will. Runaan has a lot of respect among Moonshadow elves, but there are still many more elves and humans who will target you. Your life isn’t worth it, Callum. Us telling our families will only lead to the wrong person finding out.” She was so furious she never saw him walk around the counter to stand in front of her.

Callum grabbed her shoulders and put his forehead against her’s. “Do you think I haven’t thought of that? Of course I have! Just like I have a target on my back, you will have one on your’s. There are people all over the Pentarchy who want elves to stay in Xadia and humans to stay in their kingdoms. There was outrage when Dad announced I was going to school right on the border. When I told a newspaper that I was going to learn primal magic and refuse to learn dark magic, the number of human mages who rioted…I didn’t know there were that many in Katolis alone. And it would probably get much worse if they found out my girlfriend was an elf.”

“Then why is this so important to you?” Callum cupped her face and stroked her cheeks. It was getting harder to look meet his gaze when he looked at her with so much love and adoration.

“Because I love you. And I don’t want to hide it anymore. I know my family will love you and their opinion is the only one that matters to me. Claudia and Soren already keep pushing me to confess to you and Ezran thinks of you as his big sister. I never, ever would have introduced you to Ezran if I wasn’t 100% sure I wanted to be with you. I want to meet Tinker and Runaan and tell them I’ll do everything I can to make you happy. We won’t know unless we try, Rayla. We’ll get through this. Together.”

Rayla sighed as she looked Callum in the eye. The desperation in those green eyes of his let her know that he was serious about this. “If we try, and I mean if, you’re going to have to learn a lot more about Moonshadow elf culture. History class is one thing, but you can really, really piss Runaan off if you do the wrong thing.”

“Like what?” Callum moved his hands up to lightly run his fingertips over the base of one of her horns, sending shivers down her spine as a gasp left her lips. The burn in her belly she had just worked off was back full-force.

“Like that. In any elf culture, you might as well have grabbed my ass while your tongue was down my throat.”

“Noted. Horns are only for behind closed doors. Anything else?”

“Stop stroking my horn and maybe I’ll be able think.”

Callum released her with a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. I guess I can keep my hands off you for a few minutes.”

Rayla snorted as she lightly nudged him backwards. “We tend to spend a lot of time outdoors. Training is outside, lots of festivals and camping trips. It’s not unusual for families to spend nights when the moon is full in their yards. Weddings are outside, too, as are major parties, like birthdays, graduations, and anniversaries,” Rayla counted on her fingers. “Weddings tend to be the night before the full moon and the actual honeymoon starts on the night of the full moon. Something about the moon granting love and fertility and fidelity. When it rains, we go places that have large windows so we can still see the moon at night. Think you can handle all that time outside?”

“I’m sure I’ll make it work. I’ve had to rough it once or twice.”

“If by ‘rough it’ you mean spending time in the Banther Lodge, you are in for a rude awakening.”

#rayllum #rayllum fanfic #the dragon prince #tdp #rayla #prince callum #this first chapter does contain adult material #we could be heroes #moonbase fanfics

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 5 years ago

Text

Missing Her - Part 5

Dean x Reader; Sam Winchester, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Bobby Singer, Ollie (OFC)

Series Summary: Dean is on the verge of going to Hell, and Sam is reaching out to an old friend who he thinks holds the key that could change Dean’s future. When they get reunited, a long kept secret comes out, that can’t stop him from going to Hell, but it changes everything for him when he returns. Seeking out the woman he loves and getting back what he lost, while still managing to stop Lillith from breaking the seals may be more difficult than he thinks.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Warnings: Language, Canon Divergence

WC: 4.8K

Beta’d by @closetspngirl who just keeps being amazing <3 Banner made by me, pics found thanks to Google.

You bolted upright and panicked for a moment, unsure of where you were. It was familiar, but not from your recent memory. Focusing on some things around the room, it took a minute or two, and the recognition of the ZZ Top poster on the wall, but you realized that you were in Ash’s room at the Roadhouse.

Muffled voices from beyond the closed door carried in. When you went to investigate out in the bar, you saw Dean and Ollie playing pool. Not wanting to disturb them, you tip-toed out of Ash’s room and watched from the shadows.

“Alright,” Dean said moving the crate over to the long side of the table. “What do you do first?”

Ollie climbed up on the plastic milk crate and took the cue stick from his hand. It was one of the shorter ones, but still too big for her small size. She still managed to get her grip on it properly and bend over the table.

“First, you line up your shot,” she said, closing one eye and positioning her hand slightly off proper stance. Dean leaned over and moved her hands where they needed to be but then backed off to watch her.

“Right. Then what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest, watching her carefully.

“Then, look for your next shot,” Ollie replied confidently.

“Atta girl!” he said and moved around to the other side of the table. “Which are you looking at?”

Ollie stood back up and examined the layout of the billiard balls in front of her. You couldn’t see the whole table, but you watched her face as she tried to decide what to do. The way her young features were set in determination as she chewed her bottom lip, only highlighted the Winchester genes even more.

Finally, she pointed at an obscured part of the table. “There.”

“Yes!” Dean exclaimed and walked back around to her. “Now, when you draw back to hit the cue ball, if you hit it here,” he pointed to the center bottom part of the ball, “that will make the ball recoil after hitting this one and roll back to line up the other shot. Got it?”

“Got it!” Ollie nodded and bent back over the table. Dean helped adjust her arm slightly, but he stepped back when she began to find her stroke and hit the ball. The cue did exactly what she hoped it would, bouncing the seven ball into the pocket, and rolling it back to line up her next shot.

When it rolled to a stop, Ollie jumped off the crate, then up and downing, cheering, and Dean shot both arms up in the air in a celebration of victory. “That’s my girl!!”

Ollie’s face was just full of elation, her smile going ear to ear. She jumped up at Dean, slapping him a vicious high five, to which he pretended it hurt. Dean shook off his hand and mumbled something to Ollie you couldn’t hear. You watched as your daughter flung herself at Dean and wrapped her arms around his waist to embrace him tightly. He hugged her back, letting her be the one to pull away first. She bounded back towards the table, hopped back on the crate and repeated the process.

This time, Dean took a step back and watched her. Even from the distance, you noticed the emotion around his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but the lines in his face were betraying the build-up of feeling that was growing inside him. He sucked them back down, his pouty bottom lip clenching at the process, all while watching his daughter play pool like a natural.

Dean felt your gaze on him and finally noticed you standing in the shadows. He didn’t call out your name or wave you over, but the corner of his mouth tugged into a thoughtful smile before he turned back to Ollie to help her with her grip.

No matter what was about to go down with demons and angels, at that moment watching your daughter play pool with her father made it feel like all was right and perfect in your world.

Ollie must have felt you lurking. After she took her shot, she turned and saw you watching from the fringe.

“Mom! Dean is teaching how to play pool!”

“I see that,” you said and flashed her an encouraging smile as you came further into the room. “I just hope he’s not teaching you how to hustle pool.”

“C’moonn,” Dean whined, feigning offense. “I wouldn’t do that… not until she’s older. The girl needs some kind of skills to fall back on.”

Closing your eyes, you shook your head and tried to stifle a laugh. When you opened them again, Dean was right beside you, but watching Ollie continue to line up shots.

“She’s pretty good, you know. We’ve only been at it for an hour, and she damn near ran five shots in a row before.”

“Smart, sassy, and a hell of a shot… just like her daddy,” you wiggled your brow at him, earning you one of his infamous smirks; the one that made you fall for him in the first place.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. The sass, she gets that from you,” he said seriously, then noticed your expression and tried to backpedal. “I just mean--”

“Yeah, yeah… just quit while you’re ahead, hm?”

Dean’s cell vibrated with Smoke on the Water before he could relent. He dove into his pocket, pulling it out quickly and sighing with relief when he saw Sam’s name.

“Hey! Dude, where are you?” he asked in a terse greeting. Dean held up his finger, asking for a minute then went walked over to the bar so he could talk to his brother with some privacy.

You nodded and watched him walk away, taking a moment to appreciate the view. There was a brief moment you forgot about everything that was hanging over him, and you by extension, and you let yourself dive into a fantasy where you, Dean and Ollie could be a happy family. Barbecues, holidays, library dates, school plays, Uncle Sam and Aunt Ellen coming to visit… maybe even more kids. Dean could still hunt--you’d never try and make him stop, it would be a fruitless effort anyway-- but he could, and he would always find his way back to you…

“Mommy?” Ollie asked, pulling on your sleeve to get your attention.

“Hmm?” you responded, and looked down at her with a hazy expression she couldn’t quite pinpoint.

“You okay? You look funny.”

“I’m fine, Ol. Just thinking…”

“About what?”

Nothing wanting to place these hopes and dreams on her until you knew how things would shake out, you just smiled a big and said “Pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes! Auntie El said to come to the house today and she’ll whip you up a batch. Plus, she’s fixing up our old room for us. You mind crashing with her for a while?”

“Will you stay there with me?” she asked, a momentary flash of panic streaked across her young face. “Will Dean?”

Crouching to be eye level with her, you brushed a strand of hair from her face and forced a calming, happy smile.

“Me, absolutely. Dean… I don’t know, Ollie. He’s got some work he needs to tend too,” you paused and glanced over your shoulder to where Dean was pacing and talking low, but animatedly on the phone, then turned your attention back to Olivia. “But, between you and me, I sure hope he does.” You winked at her and she giggled softly.

“Mom?”

“Hm?”

“I hope so, too.”

“What do you say, you go gather your things from Ash’s room, and maybe we get ourselves over to Ellen’s? I’m sure you’re hungry considering you didn’t eat last night.”

“I am hungry. I’ll go grab my stuff!” she squealed and bounced off in the direction of Ash’s room, then suddenly stopped and turned back to face you. “Do you think Auntie El has bacon?”

“She better!” Dean exclaimed as he came up behind you, “It’s one of the most important food groups.”

Ollie giggled and shook her head. “No it’s not,” she laughed and rolled her eyes, but then her face went serious, and she looked more like Dean at that moment, than she ever had before. “But it should be.”

You and Dean both held it together until she had disappeared into Ash’s room, then began to laugh.

“Is she always like that?” he asked as his gaze still lingered in the direction she went off in.

“Yes. Yes, she is. I told you, Dean, she is your mini-me,” you smiled and ribbed him with your elbow. “So, what did Sam have to say?”

Dean’s expression faltered, and gone was the dreaming, poetic look of a father who loved his child, but that of a man scared for her future. His gaze fluttered to the floor, and he stopped and started speaking more than a couple of times before he sighed in resignation.

“I don’t know,” he breathed and rubbed a hand over his face. “He should be here soon, but, I dunno. Something’s up with him.”

“I remember you said something about that the other day. What is it? What’s he doing?”

Dean passed you a glance that said you’d never believe him if he told you.

“Try me, Dean. C’mon… the Sam I saw earlier this year--”

“That was the Sam before I went to Hell. He changed. He’s... “

“What?”

“Look. Y/N, there’s a lot I haven’t told you about what’s going on. I know I gave you the Cliffs Notes version, but the reality of the situation is seriously way more fu--”

“I’m ready!” Ollie called out as she rejoined you and Dean near the pool table. “You think Aunt Ellen will let me come back later and play pool?”

“Maybe! But first, let’s get there and get you fed, ok?” you said and reached out for Olivia’s hand.

She slipped her small fingers into yours and gave you a gentle squeeze. “Let’s go eat!” she exclaimed and reached her other hand up to Dean.

“Girl after my own heart,” he mused and gave Ollie a wink.

“Well… I’ll be…” Bobby said with a snort as his eyes flickered between Dean, standing beside him, and Olivia, who sat in the kitchen eating pancakes. The old hunter took the trucker cap off his head and itched the side of his scalp, before replacing it, then turning to Dean with a look of pure disbelief. “I just… I never had a damn clue. How the Hell did your brother keep this quiet?”

Dean shook his head. “I don’t know, Bobby. But he did. Dad, too.”

“And the girl? She never told you she was pregnant?”

“No,” Dean replied lowly and cleared his throat, glancing up at Y/N who was sat next to Olivia in the kitchen. “She called to tell me, dad found out instead and did what he did best...” he trailed off and shrugged with his expression.

“Meddled. That’s what he did,” Bobby grumbled. “Dammit, John…” Bobby growled a sigh and patted his adopted son’s shoulder. “I’m real damn sorry he did that, Dean. He had no right.”

“It’s okay, Bobby. It’s done. Not like I cam reem the guy out now, can I?”

“Still… all that you missed out on,” Bobby shook his head.

“She’s here now, that’s what I gotta be grateful for. It’s time to step up and protect my kid and right now, I don’t know if I can do that alone.”

Dean’s gaze caught Bobby’s, and his heart broke when he saw the fear reflecting in Dean’s eyes.

“I’m here, son. For whatever you, and her, may need.” Bobby patted his shoulder and gave it a squeeze, then turned his attention to Y/N. “Now, what about the girl’s mama. What’s the story there?” Bobby eyed him carefully, trying to read Dean’s expression where the mother of the girl was concerned.

“That? That’s a story for another day, Bobby. Just know that keeping her safe is just as important as keeping Ollie safe. No way I’m gonna lose her again.”

“Alright. Just checkin’,” Bobby said, focusing his narrowed gaze on the strange woman in the kitchen. “All this time, she’s known the life… known Ellen and Jo. Why didn’t she tell anyone that the kid was yours?”

“Dad scared the shit out of her. He made her believe that if any more Winchesters were born into the world, they would just be ripe for the supernatural pickin’s I guess,” Dean shrugged. “He wanted her to end it. Gave her money to terminate the pregnancy. Instead, she took off, found Ellen, and did what she thought she had to do.”

“You ain’t mad about that?” Bobby snorted. “Can’t say I’d be too quick to forgive if I were you. Not like she magically lost your number. She still coulda--”

“Bobby, come on. Just let it go, alright? Y/N and I, we’re good. I want to put all that in the past and just focus on now. We certainly got enough on our plates with Lilith and the seals, don’t we?”

The old man nodded and ran a hand over his beard, letting it fall from his face with a sigh. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“Alright then. Let’s focus on that, and keeping them safe,” Dean paused and looked back to the kitchen, where half his heart sat, laughing and eating pancakes. “Because losing them, even after just having them in my life for a few days… I don’t think I could come back from that, Bobby.”

“Then that’s what we do.” Bobby’s hand clamped down tightly on Dean’s shoulder, again, in an effort to offer him some reassurance. Dean nodded and bit down on the inside of his lip to try and keep his emotions in check.

“First things first,” Dean said, turning away from the kitchen and back towards Bobby. “Where the HELL is Sam?”

“Beats me. Said he’d be here an hour ago. Do you think he went to the Roadhouse instead?” Bobby asked though he could sense Dean felt it was something more sinister. “I know that look, boy. Spill it.”

Dean shook his head slowly. “I don’t know… he’s been different. He’s lying to me, sneaking off more. I’m worried about him.”

“What else is new?” Bobby asked sarcastically.

Dean rolled his eyes. “This is different, Bobby. It just is.”

“I get that, Dean. But Sam is a grown man. He’s allowed to go off without your permission.”

“Yeah, but what’s he doing when he’s gone? Hmm? God only knows--”

Before he could continue, Olivia came into the room, a wide smile that was covered in traces of chocolate and, plate of pancakes in her hand.

“I brought you some,” she said, beaming up at Dean and holding out the plate. “I even made sure mom put bacon on there.”

Dean took the plate happily. “I am starving, how did you know?”

“Cause, you’re a boy. Boys are always hungry,” she said and shrugged as if it were the most commonly known fact in the world. She looked up wearily at Bobby, having only just met him and unsure of what to make of the gruff old hunter.

“Do you want some, too?” she asked him shyly.

“I sure do appreciate the offer, but I’m good honey,” Bobby replied with his friendliest grin and winked.

Ollie flashed a shy smile and ran back to the kitchen, promptly jumped back into her chair and held up her plate up to Ellen, asking more pancakes. Dean shoved a fork of the food in his mouth and groaned as he chewed and swallowed.

“Oh man, so good,” he mused while savoring the taste of the pancakes before snapping off a piece of bacon in his mouth.

“Least you ain’t lost your appetite,” Bobby laughed and shook his head. “Come on.” He motioned his head for Dean to follow him back into Ellen’s kitchen.

“Anyone heard from Sam yet?” Ellen asked when they joined the group in the kitchen. “We really need to get talking about events that are unfoldin’,” she said then glanced down at Ollie. “Figure out some things.”

Y/N nodded. “Soon as Sam gets here, I’ll take Ollie--”

The sound of a car door from outside grabbed everyone’s attention. Dean placed the plate of pancakes back to the table and glanced outside Ellen’s kitchen window to see Sam getting out of the ride he had to hijack to get there. Dean’s brow furrowed when he saw Sam was limping towards the house. From the distance of the window, it looked like Sam had blood on the side of his face.

Dean darted out the back door, with Bobby following quickly behind. Ellen looked out of the window and quickly turned to Jo. “Joanna Beth, take Olivia upstairs, now.”

“But mom--” she began to protest.

“Now! Sam may need Y/N’s help,” she barked.

Jo’s gaze flickered anxiously between her mother and Y/N. The moment the back door opened and she saw both Dean and Bobby helping him into the house, she promptly grabbed Olivia’s hand.

“Come on kiddo, let’s go get the pancake gunk off ya.”

Olivia began to protest but the moment she saw Sam’s bloody head, she got up and nearly ran from the room. Once she was clear, Y/N sprung into action as Dean and Bobby dumped Sam into one of the kitchen chairs.

“Ellen, get your kit. I didn’t bring mine and he needs some stitches.”

The kitchen was virtually silent while you attended to Sam’s wounds. All he had been able to get out so far, was that he went to the Roadhouse and found it in ruins. After that, he said everything went dark.

Ellen had fallen into one of the kitchen chairs when she heard the news about her bar; a blank expression clouded her face as her knuckles grasped the edge of the table so hard they turned white. Bobby and Dean both tried grilling Sam for details, but he wasn’t of much help.

“Man, I dunno what happened. I pulled up and it was in ruins,” Sam paused to wince as you put the last stitch in place above his brow. “It looks like it had been hit by a meteor… smashed to bits and still smoldering,” Sam rasped, the pain of the attack still coming in waves. “I’m so sorry Ellen.”

Ellen continued to sit quietly dumbfounded at the table as Sam recounted his story of finding the Roadhouse destroyed.

“When I came too, they had me pinned down, and were spouting off some garbage about the angels, and how Lilith would succeed in freeing Lucifer from his cage.”

Listening carefully, but not saying anything, you felt like you may be sick. What they were talking about went beyond anything you understood about the supernatural world.

You finished up Sam’s stitches and put the suture kit back in the lockbox where Ellen kept it. When you sat back in the chair beside her, that’s when it hit you how closely you, Dean and Ollie must have come to missing the attack. Bobby stood behind Ellen, his hands on her shoulders trying to help keep her upright.

“We can rebuild it, El. We’ll figure out a way,” Bobby said lowly and passed glances to Sam and Dean, who nodded sympathetically.

“Hell yeah--” “You know it--” they replied simultaneously.

“I’m gonna find those black-eyed bitches,” Ellen growled, toying with the glass of whiskey now in front of her. “I’m gonna send each one of ‘em straight back to the pit.”

“We will, Ellen. I promise you that,” Dean said and looked to Sam. “Not that I’m complaining, but why let you live? Did they just beat the crap out of you for kicks?”

Sam shrugged half-heartedly. “Not sure,” he replied, but conveyed a look to Dean that meant, ‘we’ll talk later’. Dean continued the silent conversation with a furrowed brow, but Sam every so slightly shook his head. ‘Not now,’ it said.

“Alright, so what now?” you asked, ignoring what was going on between the brothers; not like they would answer you if you asked.

“This has to be what we were talking about last night,” Dean said, turning his attention to you. “If Jim is possessed, and he knows we came here--”

“Wait, Jim? YOUR Jim?!” Ellen fummed, the fire in her expression just as deadly as the one that brought down her bar.

You nodded apologetically. “It’s why we’re here,” you replied softly, giving Dean a pensive glance. He nodded, gently prodding you to continue. “Jim didn’t take well to seeing Dean with Ollie. It turned into a fight when we dropped Ollie off at his place the other night. I thought he was just being a jerk--”

“He pinned her against the front door, hard,” Dean added through gritted teeth.

“If not for Ollie being there…” you shrugged. “Seeing her stopped him, so we left. But later, she said that she thought his eyes went black and that the living room smelled like rotten eggs.”

“Sulfur,” Bobby whispered, coming to understand the point they were getting at. “You think he got possessed? But when? Where?”

You nodded. “Look, he wasn’t a great guy for the last year of our marriage, and once or twice things got.... rough, between us.” Dean noticeably tensed at the mention of it. “But I don’t know; he was different. More intense than usual.”

Bobby walked around to the opposite side of the table and poured himself a shot of whiskey. Once the burn wore off, he cleared his throat. “So, let me get this straight… did your ex--”

“Jim.”

“Right, Jim, did he know about the life? Does he know the truth about what’s out there?”

“No, he had no idea. I told him Ellen was my aunt, Jo was my cousin. He never really cared to know my family, never asked about them. In fact, he always acted like I was an orphan. Never wanted to know about my folks, siblings… any of it.”

“That didn’t raise a red flag?” Bobby asked curiously, folding his arms over his chest.

“Bobby, come on,” Dean sighed. “Give her a break.”

“No, he’s right, Dean. I should have wondered why,” you looked back to Bobby and got where he was going. “You think he had been possessed from the beginning?”

Bobby hemmed and hawed for a moment, and then shrugged. “It’s possible. If the demon was there the whole time, it wouldn’t make itself known unless it wanted too. Maybe once Dean showed back up…”

“Dammit,” Dean muttered under his breath, his eyes fluttering closed as his gut swelled with vile.

You reached over and gently touched his forearm. “Hey, this isn’t on you.”

“The Hell it ain’t!” Dean barked, letting the anger he had towards himself take over.

“Heeyyy, guys… little ears back in the room,” Jo said as cheerfully as she could and walked into the kitchen holding Olivia’s hand. She had been freshly showered and dressed. Jo even took the time to fix her hair in french braid pigtails making her look at least three years younger than she really was.

“Hey baby,” you said and opened out your arms. “Come here, there’s someone you gotta meet.”

Olivia slowly entered the kitchen, looking between you and Dean, then very carefully in Sam’s direction. She looked at him curiously, her fierce green eyes scrutinizing the now bandaged wound on his head, along with the cut on his cheek.

“Is he ok?” she asked you in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, he’s alright. Just a little accident on the way over. But, this guy right here, this is your Uncle Sam. He’s Dean’s brother.”

Olivia immediately looked at Dean, who nodded and smiled, confirming what you just told her.

“Remember I told you about my little brother?” Dean asked her, “Well this is him.”

“He’s not little at all,” she said, still eyeing Sam carefully. “Is he the one that makes you eat all the healthy things?”

Dean laughed. “He sure is. So, if he ever tries to get you to eat kale… just say no, kid.”

Ollie giggled and left your side to move closer to Dean, and then hesitantly closer to Sam.

Sam smiled at his niece with an expression of disbelief, all previous talk of demons momentarily forgotten. “Hi there,” he said and held out his hand to her. She placed her little fingers in his and shook his hand.

“Hi.”

“You probably don’t remember me, I saw you once when you were super small.”

Ollie turned to you, and you nodded. “You were only two, Ol.”

“Oh, then I definitely don’t remember,” she said.

“Well then I guess we have to make some new memories, huh?” Sam said, his grin stretching from ear to ear, despite the pain it caused the wounds on his face.

“Sure. Are you staying here at Aunt El’s too? Are we all going back to the bar?” Ollie looked around at all the adults faces in the room, and with the exception of Jo’s, realized everyone looked very sad. “Why’s everyone so mopey?”

“Aw honey, c’mere,” Ellen said and patted her lap. Ollie bounced over to her and sat on Ellen’s leg. “Apparently there was an accident right after you left there today. The bar is gone.”

Ollie’s face scrunched up in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a long story, Olivia. I promise to tell you more about it later.”

“But, I wanna know now,” she whined. “I’m not a baby, you can tell me grown up things!”

“Olivia.” Dean’s tone was stern but not loud. “Mom said later, okay? There’s a lot going on right now, kiddo. It’s not that we don’t think you’re big enough to hear it. It’s just, we want to understand it ourselves before we tell you.”

Dean raised his brow as he gazed at her, hoping she would understand and back off. You knew how stubborn she could be, and watched the two of them have their stare down, seeing who would be the first to crack.

Olivia’s body relaxed, and she nodded ever-so-slightly. “Okay.”

Dean smiled at her. “But, I did hear that Aunt Ellen has a killer pool table in the basement. I bet you if you asked Jo nicely, she would take you down and let you practice some. You can show her what I taught you this morning. Whatcha say?”

Olivia turned to Jo, who flashed Dean rueful glance, but eventually smiled at Olivia. “Sure, come on, Ollie, show me what you got.”

Once again, Jo held out her hand for Olivia to take, and lead her from the room. When they were out of earshot, you couldn’t help but chuckle, and pat Dean’s knee.

“Nice save, dad,” you teased.

“Dude,” Sam spoke up. “You have a daughter…” he snorted a disbelieving sigh and just shook his head. “I mean, I knew she existed, but just seeing you two in the same room…”

“Then maybe you shoulda spoke up about it sooner, boy,” Bobby said, though he lacked any kind of accusatory tone. “John I believe, but you? Keeping something like this from your brother for so long? That’s not the kind of secret, you keep from family.”

Dean sighed heavily. “Bobby, c’mon. I thought we were letting all that go. We got bigger problems, remember?”

“Hey! Enough, alright. We need to deal with these demons that just burned down my bar. Which, apparently includes your ex-husband, Y/N. So, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell us everything you know about Jim.”

“Before you do that,” Sam said, standing from the chair, “I need to talk to Dean for a minute, alone.”

“Whatever you gotta tell me--”

“No,” Sam interrupted. Sam no-so-subtly motioned his head towards the back door.

Dean stood from his chair, his expression wrought with concern. “Alright little brother, lead the way.

Once they were outside, Sam paced back and forth for a moment before he finally faced Dean. Frustrated, Dean raised his brow in question and sighed.

“What the hell, Sam? What’s going on?” he asked, tired from the constant feeling of secrecy that surrounded Sam as of late.

“Those demons that were at Harvelle’s, they didn’t just kick my ass for sport. They did it because they wanted me to deliver a message.”

Dean’s expression fell and he felt his veins run cold. “What message? For who?”

Sam hesitated for a moment, calming his own anger in order to be ready and deal with the rage that he knew would erupt in his brother the moment he passed along the demon’s warning.

“To you,” he paused and raised his brow, “they said, ‘don’t think she’s untouchable’.”

Everything Tags: @kazosa // @sorenmarie87 // @lefthologramdeer// @his-paradox // @letsby // @thefaithfulwriter // @sister-winchesters99 // @thymeheals

SUPERNATURAL TAGS: @wings-of-a-raven // @negans-wife // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @missihart23 // @idreamofplaid // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters// @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets // @waywardvalkyrie // @fandomoniumflurry // @gnrfanfic// @blackcherrywhiskey // @jessieray98 // @lyoly // @a–1–1–3 // @31shadesofbrown // @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare// @pilaxia // @screechingartisancashbailiff // @kgbrenner // @holylulusworld // @deansenwackles // @jamielea81 // @coffeebooksandfandom // @logical-princey // @gemini0410 // @salt-n-burn-em-all // @collette04 // @mrswhozeewhatsis // @deathofmissjackson // @lauravic // @akshi8278 // @katehuntington // @81mysteriouslyme // @imsuperawkward

Missing Her Tags: @woodworthti666 // @marvelfansworld // @deans-baby-momma // @bunnybaby121115 // @highladyofthesevencourts // @fromthediariesofaoncer // @deanna-s-winchester

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader insert #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester fan fics #dean x you #dean x reader #dean x reader insert #spn fanfics

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ethelindawrites · 5 years ago

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October 1

Fictober, Prompt 1, Original Fiction

Warnings: Horror, unseen monsters, implied violent death, Midwestern gothic

“You do realize that this is not my idea of how to have a good time on a Friday night?”

“So you’ve said, but you’re still here aren’t you?”

I was forced to grunt in acknowledgement as I followed Kevin up over the chain link fence. It was one thing to hop over the short fence between our yards but the one around the county fairgrounds was at least twice that height.

“Surprised there’s no barbed wire at the top,” I muttered, slinging a leg over.

“It’s the fair, not a prison,” Kevin jeered, already on the ground.

“Says you,” I jeered back, dropping the last few feet. I landed with an unfortunate jolt, but kept my balance.

“I’m the one who practically lives here during fair week,” he pointed out.

“Which, once again, begs the question of what we’re doing here now. You always say you’ve had enough by the time your 4-H events are done.”

“This is different!”

I followed him across the open field, the long grass dry and rustling now in early October. It did feel different, like this, with none of the booths or crowd I was used to from fair week, and only the permanent buildings taking up space. It was more open, yet the buildings seemed to loom somehow taller in the dark. With no lights on, only the dim light of the quarter moon lit our way.

“Seriously, Kev,” I said as we got near the office building. “What got you in such a hurry to do this now?” We both kind of liked sneaking into places we weren’t necessarily supposed to be, but Kevin had insisted that it had to be the fair tonight, even though there wasn’t anything to see here that we hadn’t seen before.

“Well, people said they were hearing weird noises, right?”

“People always say that. And I thought that was out in the fields?”

“Here too, though, I heard my mom saying on the phone. Thought it was time someone came to check it out, right?” He looked back over his shoulder to grin at me. “It will be fun, trust me.”

“I doubt it,” I muttered again, but sighed and resigned myself. If I was going to back out, I should have done it before we hopped the fence.

The office was closed and locked, as was the first exhibition building. We skirted both, avoiding the brighter open areas where someone driving by might notice us. The next big building was latched but not padlocked, so we eased the door open and snuck inside.

It was pitch black once we had closed the door behind us, but the tiny bit of light coming in from the night windows gradually showed nothing but empty concrete floor, probably the reason it was only latched shut in the first place.

Still, we inspected the place, quiet at first, but then more confidently as our eyes adjusted.

“This space is so different without all the stuff and people,” Kevin said, throwing his arms out in the middle of the floor. “And tonight, it’s all ours!”

He shouted the last two words, and the sound amplified strangely around us, tossed back by the empty metal walls in not-quite-echoes. It sent a weird feeling down my spine, so I grimaced at him.

Kevin laughed at me a little, but he didn’t shout again.

We finished that building quickly, and the moonlight outside seemed brighter as we came out the far doors. It made me feel weirdly exposed, all of a sudden, and I was the one who hustled ahead to the next building, one of the barns.

The barn was empty too, of course, all cleaned out but still full of the scent of straw and “large herbivore” that every barn I’ve ever been in has.

“Cow barn,” Kevin said, and I shrugged. He helped with the cows a lot at his aunt and uncle’s place, and spent a lot of his time in this building for 4-H when the fair was going. I wasn’t a farm kid or a 4-Her myself, and hadn’t really gone to the barns when I was hanging out with friends at the fair.

I ambled down the middle aisle as Kevin made sure to poke his head into each stall and behind all the equipment, still apparently looking for the source of the mysterious noises.

We got all the way through with no unexpected signs of life or signs of ghostly activity, or whatever it was we were looking for.

Kevin grinned in answer to my questioning look. “Horse barn next.”

He spoke the words as we were stepping back out into the space between buildings, and that weird shiver went down my spine again. Clouds had started to blow across the sky, already partly obscuring the moon. I rolled my shoulders, decided there was no way in hell I would admit that this place was starting to creep me out a little, and followed him into the next barn.

We followed the same procedure in this one, with the only difference being my hands clenched nervously in my pockets that Kevin definitely did not need to know about. It seemed too dark in here, somehow.

He was a few feet ahead of me peering into yet another obviously empty stall when something further into the building shifted.

Kevin and I froze, listening.

Silence.

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. That was not the silence of nothing there. That was the silence of something that wanted you to think there was nothing there.

Even as I thought this, I watched Kevin deliberately relax his shoulders, as if shaking off the scare. He turned toward me.

No, I thought, don’t—

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re scared of the da-”

A weird, scuff-clop cut him off, and suddenly his eyes were as wide as mine. Without another breath, we both bolted back the way we had come.

We didn’t stop to try and close the doors, just kept running. We ran straight away from all the barns by unspoken agreement, pausing finally among the little square of ‘historic’ buildings that sat in about the center of the fairgrounds, putting our backs to the wall of the little old farmhouse, trying to pant as silently as we could, and listening hard through the pounding blood in our ears.

All was quiet.

It was darker now, with the clouds fully covering the moon, but we both peered around and saw nothing, heard nothing.

“We’ll keep headed this way,” Kevin whispered directly in my ear, voice almost silent. “Make for the fence and get over before we head back around for our bikes.” I nodded, still panting, but the adrenaline was keeping me from feeling the fatigue just yet. Hopefully, whatever- whatever was in that barn couldn’t follow us over the fence. We could always flag down a passing car, too, probably, as soon as we were over, and come back for our bikes some other time.

We snuck around a couple more buildings, still listening hard, pausing again each time to listen. Nothing, nothing, and I was beginning to think that we had just scared ourselves half to death for nothing. The wind blowing in could have been blowing leaves across the floor deeper in the building, or maybe someone was here deliberately making noises to get people talking as a prank. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Scuff-clop.

We both froze again, daring turn our heads only a scant inch to meet each other’s wide, terrified eyes.

Scuff-clop.

It was like- like the step of a horse, but dragging weirdly. I swallowed against the sick feeling in my stomach, something in my brain revolted by the sound, by the wrongness of it.

It was behind us still.

“The fence!” Kevin mouthed, and I nodded. We both took a deep, silent breath, stepping away from the wall of this building—

Scuff-clop. Behind…and to the right.

Scuff-clop. Ahead.

There was more than one of them.

We bolted left, without any conscious thought, just trying to get away. I realized our mistake only after we had burst out onto the racetrack, past the grandstand and out onto the wide loop of dirt around the open field in the center.

There was nothing out here. No buildings, no cover.

And nothing ahead but the river.

We could still hear those awful, half-dragged footsteps, the sound and rhythm changing as they multiplied, hit the dirt, and picked up speed…

Kevin and I kept running. The river was our only hope at this point. We could swerve right and eventually reach a fence, but some part of my brain was telling me we wouldn’t make it, and kept my feet pointed dead ahead.

Unfortunately, Kevin gave into the temptation of the fence.

“No—!” I got out, but I didn’t have enough breath to shout, and it was already too late.

I’m not sure which was worse: his scream, or the way it cut off.

Don’t look, my brain told me. Don’t look.

My head was turning even as I thought the words, unable to heed what was undoubtedly very sound advice—

Then came the sound, as if someone took a horse’s scream and a howl and mixed them together into a broken, ear-piercing sound effect, except that it wasn’t in a movie but spilling from the throats of at least three of whatever it was back there.

I hadn’t realized that I could run any faster than I was already running. My eyes stayed glued dead ahead on the thin line of trees that separated the field from the river; I wasn’t sure my sanity was going to survive hearing that noise. It definitely wouldn’t survive seeing whatever had made it.

Something was still chasing me, I knew, but the riverbank was coming up fast, and I crashed through the bushes heedless of any pain, just barely missing a tree, and then I was over the edge and plunging into the dark cold water.

I came up gasping, feeling the current already carrying me away, but still nearly screamed in terror when that awful, shrieking cry was raised again right on the riverbank where I had jumped in. I half-choked myself swallowing my scream, but managed it by reminding myself that the thing was venting its frustration at losing me.

Managing to get a couple of good, deep breaths in, and still riding my adrenaline high, I got myself situated and began to swim as best I could, anything to help the current carry me away more quickly. I’d worry about the dam if I got that far.

Then there was a splash behind me.

(Giving #Fictober19 a try! Might not manage every day, but this will be a good challenge for me. Also testing out the horror-writing chops on at least some of them.)

#fictober19 #horror #monsters #implied violence #midwest gothic #midwestern gothic #unseen monsters #does it count as midwest gothic if I don't actually mention the corn?

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 4 years ago

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Chapter 16 -- Perfect Harmony | Charlie Gillespie

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x OC (Emily Fox)

Warnings: mentions of death, sexual assault

The song used in this chapter is Sirens by Cher Lloyd

~|Charlie Gillespie|~

A few days go by and none of them are spend without Emily. We help around at the Music Store, write songs, rehearse, and then I drop Emily off at her house where we say goodbye for a good fifteen minutes. “You’re going home today?” she asks me on Thursday evening. We’re in front of the red door, my arms wrapped around her waist and hers around my neck, her fingers tangled up in my hair. “I don’t know yet. I’m okay in Jeremy’s garage.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m sure your parents are worried about you, Charlie.” I avoid her gaze by looking somewhere behind her to try and figure out what to tell her. “Hey,” her voice makes me refocus on her. “Take it from me, running away from your parents isn’t the right option.” “Then why did you?” She releases her grip around my neck and places her hands on my chest, pushing me away a little. “I didn’t run away, Charles. This is different. I would go back to my parents’ if they’d let me.” “Right, sorry.” I tuck a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. “I’ll go back tomorrow, okay? I can’t face them yet.” “You promise?” “I promise.” A smile breaks through on her face just before she leans in to kiss me one more time. “Good night, Emily Fox.” I plant a kiss on her forehead and step away from her. “Good night, Charlie Gillespie.” She stays put, watching me as I walk away. I turn around once more to throw her a kiss, which she cutely plucks out of the air. I’m so in love with this girl, I’d do anything for her. Even going back to my parents’ house. Anything to make her happy.

I don’t hear from or see Emily the next day. She doesn’t respond to my texts about the new melody I came up with last night or any of my hilarious memes I’d send her during class. She’s not even at the Music Store when I arrive after school. I figure something’s held her up again and decide to just play around with the Black Fender since Ash is too busy with the customers to ask her. Fridays seem busy. The boys arrive around 7 when the buzz in the store has finally died down. “Hey, what are you guys doing here?” Ash finally notices us, a confused look on her face. “Waiting for Emily for band practice,” I reply, placing the guitar back in its place. Ash’s eyes widen and her lips part to let out a huff. “She didn’t tell you what day it is today?” The boys and I exchange glances to check if either of them knows. “Her uncle passed away exactly one year ago. She asked for a day off, and I’m pretty sure she didn’t go to school either.” I swallow a lump in my throat. I can’t believe she didn’t tell either of us. “Why didn’t she say anything?” Owen whispers, that worried look on his face. The same look he had when things didn’t go too well with his sister. A look he seemed to have reserved for the girls he considers his sisters or are his sisters. “She spent this day last year with Mitch, closed off from the world,” Ash replies as she starts sorting through the invoices, which is normally my job when Emily has to close the store. “Do you think she’d appreciate some visitors?” Jeremy asks Ash. “I’m not sure. You could always try? Just don’t push it,” she replies. The boys glance at each other again, all three of us knowing what to do. “And if you do see her, wish her my best.” “We will,” says Owen, “Thanks, Ash.” “No problem.” We leave the store, and suddenly, everything around me seems glum and dark. “We’ll just go check up on her, see if she’ll appreciate some company,” Jeremy suggests. “If she’d rather be alone, we’ll leave straight away,” I agree and then lead the boys to Emily’s house. The road I’ve taken many a times with her before. The road that seems so endless all of a sudden. The road with the red door at the end of it. Even that door seems looming now. We ring the doorbell and wait until Mitch opens the door. His eyes look red and puffy, and he’s in his joggers with a blanket wrapped around him. “Oh, hey, boys,” he greets solemnly and sniffles. “We heard from Ash what today is,” Owen starts, “We wanted to come and see if there’s anything we can do?” Mitch opens the door a little further and steps aside, letting us in. We find Emily in the living room, wrapped up in a blanket with tears running down her face and tissues all around her. My heart breaks at the sight of a broken down Emily. “Ems…” I whisper, catching her attention. She turns her head, her teary eyes wide at the sight of us before she breaks down into sobs again. Her frail body rises from the couch and walks up to us, straight into my arms. As if on automatic, I wrap her up in my arms and start rubbing her back comfortingly. The boys even wrap their arms around us into a group hug. “Is there anything we can do?” Owen asks both Emily and Mitch when we pull away from the hug. “Get you some food or—” he gets cut off by the doorbell ringing. While Mitch goes to open up, Emily looks up at me with sadness looming all around her. “Can you guys just stay?” she asks with a sniffle. “Yeah, of course,” I reply, tucking a strand of hair that’s stuck to her cheek from the tears, behind her ear. “Anything for you, Emily.” She grabs my hand and leads me towards the couch, the boys following suit. “Madison brought us food,” Mitch announces when he walks back in with Madison behind him. “Mom made some lasagna when I told her what today was,” she explains, placing the tray onto the kitchen table before joining us in the living room. “Hey, boys,” she gives us a wave, which all of us return. “How are you feeling?” She walks up to Emily and presses a kiss to her hair. “Better now,” she manages a thankful smile through all the tears. “You guys want anything to drink?” Mitch asks. “I’ll get it,” Madison chimes in, “You sit down.” Mitch obeys like a lost puppy and takes a seat on Emily’s other side. “What do you guys want? Emily, some lemonade?” The sad girl beside me nods her head before placing it onto my shoulder. “Boys?” “Same,” I reply simply, and Jeremy and Owen tell her the same. “Why didn’t you tell me last night what today was?” I carefully ask, placing my arm around her shoulder, so her head lands on my chest instead. “I kind of forgot,” she chuckles tearfully, “I only remembered when I was writing a song upstairs and it reminded me of him a little and then, you know, I was reminded of what day it was. I’m sorry.” “That’s okay, I just got worried when I didn’t hear from you or see you in the store,” I tell her. Madison hands out the lemonades and takes a seat on the couch. “We asked Ash if she knew if you were up for some company,” Jeremy adds after sipping from his drink. “She wasn’t sure, but we wanted to check up on you anyway and see if we could do anything.” She lifts her head from my chest and eyes the three of us with a small smile cracking through her pale complexion. That’s when I notice she’s not wearing any makeup and her hair is scraped up messily. Still, she appears breathtaking. “I’m glad you guys came over,” she admits, and it makes me smile. “Last year, we spend this day at the hospital and then several weeks home,” Mitch chimes in. “We just sat on the couch, ate tubs of ice cream, watched movies and cried. My sister was the only one we saw when she came to check up on us and brought some food.” “Remember what Bobby said just before he died?” Emily asks her uncle, fresh tears pooling her eyes while a smile tugs at her lips at the memory. “You got to keep on dreaming, Emmy. Catch that feeling,” They quote in unison. I realize that’s why she got so mad when I called her ‘Emmy’. It’s what her uncle used to call her. It’s reserved for just him. “How did your uncle die?” Owen asks cautiously, “If you don’t mind me asking.” “Uhm… He got into an accident,” Emily replies, wiping an escaped tear away, “He was on his way home from this musical conference thing, I don’t remember what it was, and the bus he was on crashed and flipped upside down. Several people died that day.” “He had a collapsed lung and several broken bones. He stayed alive for an hour or so more, until Ems and I got to the hospital, and then he slowly went,” Mitch adds. “He waited for us, wanting to see us one more time before he left,” Emily sobs, and I press her closer to me. “I can’t believe his sister didn’t even come to say goodbye.” “Your mother was in New York, Muffin. She wouldn’t have made it in time.” “She came home a week after he died for the funeral, Mitch. She didn’t even try to come and see him.” I flinch at the volume and anger in her voice. Her parents don’t only not care about their own daughter, they didn’t care about her uncle. Probably because he’s the one that put that dream of hers in her head. He’s the one that introduced her to music. Mitch turns to us now, the sad smile still on his face, and says, “The funeral really was beautiful though. Just like Robert would’ve wanted it. Emily wrote a beautiful song and we had a professional singer come in since she couldn’t do it without breaking down. We almost made it into a whole musical, didn’t we, Muffin?” Emily cracks a smile, nodding. “He would’ve loved that so much,” she sniffles. “Can you sing it for me, Muffin?” Her breath hitches in her throat. She’s thinking about it. I can tell by the way she freezes, then rubs her nose once. “Please?” Emily gets up and grabs my hand, beckoning everyone to follow her. She leads me down a hallway and into a large room at the very back of the house. The lights flicker on, revealing an entire studio. Instruments everywhere, pretty much every instrument that exists, and even a recording booth in the corner. My eyes scan the room before landing on Emily. She’s staring into the room too, as if taking it all in. “I haven’t been in here in so long,” she whispers before taking a step. “Can you guys help me?” she turns to us. The three of us spring into action and set everything up; microphones, instruments – she instructs which ones she wants to use – and plug them into the amps. Mitch and Madi sit down on the couch in front of our set up. “You start,” she whispers to me, and I begin strumming the electric guitar. She then nods to Owen, who begins thumping the bass drum, while she starts singing and Jeremy joins in with bass. “I carry the weight of you in my heavy heart And the wind is so icy, I am numb I carry the weight of you heading back to start With a thousand eyes on me, I stumble on” She shuts her eyes when her voice waivers, and I witness a single tear rolling down her cheek. “I am tired, I'm growing older I'm getting weaker everyday, yeah I carry the weight of you I carry the weight of you” Jeremy and I quit playing for a moment, leaving Owen with the beat that carries Emily into the pre-chorus. “Lay down here Beside me in the shallow water Beside me where the sun is shining on us still” Jeremy and I then chime in again, and Emily’s voice grows with our instruments. “Lay down here Beside me in the hallowed water Beside me where the silver lining stays until The sirens' calling” She takes the microphone from the stand and walks up to Jeremy, a small smile tugging at her lips. The room suddenly feels less dark, less sad. As if something’s lifted. “We follow the sun down low 'til we hit the night And you hold me so tightly It's hard to breathe Oh” She turns to Owen as if speaking to him now. He gives her an encouraging smile, which boosts her singing a little. “And I'm tired, I'm growing older I'm getting weaker everyday, yeah We follow the sun down low We follow the sun down low” She turns around to face Mitch and Madison again, really getting into the song. Her voice grows stronger and stronger with the second. “Lay down here Beside me in the shallow water Beside me where the sun is shining on us still Lay down here Beside me in the hallowed water Beside me where the silver lining stays until The sirens' calling The sirens' calling” She now walks up to me as we slow the music down a little, letting her voice carry us instead. She rests her head on my shoulder for a moment, as if needing to lean on me for strength. “Yeah, I'm tired, I'm growing older I'm getting weaker everyday, yeah” She lifts her head, and takes a step away from me, needing some space. “I am drowning, and you're stealing every breath Take me away and just Lay down here Beside me in the shallow water Beside me where the sun is shining on us still Lay down here Beside me in the hallowed water Beside me where the silver lining stays until The sirens' calling The sirens' calling” Owen and Jeremy stop playing, leaving me with the same solo I did at the start. Emily looks at me with hope and happiness in her teary eyes. Then it’s completely silent for a second. “Thanks, guys,” she whispers, her voice shaky as she breaks down again. The boys and I leave our instruments for what they are and rush up to her to embrace her, forming a shield around her against all the sadness in the world. Mitch and Madison join us, making it the biggest group hug ever. I can tell Emily and Mitch are both glad we’d come ringing at their door. I can tell they appreciate us for it, without having to tell us they do. This group hug and the smiles we receive from them, even on a sad day like this one, is enough for me to know.

Taglist: @parkeret @lukeys-giggle @hannahhistorian92 @gingerxarmy @marinettepotterandplagg @thequirkybookaholic @lovesanimals @ashleyleblancx @calamitykaty @bookdealer5 @tenaciousperfectionunknown Lemme know if you want to be on my taglist for this story/any of my other works!

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apriorisea · 6 years ago

Note

heheh, taetaescenario! where his 3yr.old daughter/or son and S/O was invited to a award show for BTS but tae didn’t know that you both(wife and son) was there, when he went to go sit with the boys and he didn't notice you until the leader told him after a few mins, he was surprised/shook? sorry if it was long or confusing! thank you uwu

-I don’t know that these are my forte, but I tried my best! Let me know what you think💕💕

BTS Imagine: You x Taehyung

5 minutes before the show begins, you slide into a seat, pulling your 3-year-old son onto your lap. “You just made it.” Jimin leans over and presses a familiar kiss to your cheek. “Everything okay?” He grins down at the toddler, who automatically starts squirming in your arms and calling for his favorite “Uncle Jimin.” You relinquish control, passing him over to your friend and smiling as the toddler presses his squishy hands against Jimin’s cheeks happily. “Everything’s fine. I find it easier to arrive just before everything starts. Less attention.” He nods and for the first time, you notice he’s alone. “Where are the others?” He bounces the little boy on his lap. “They’ll be here soon. Except for Tae. The awards he’s presenting are in the first half.” “Ah.” You nod and take a second to breathe, adjust your dress, fix your hair. Taehyung presenting a bunch of the awards was the reason you were the only wife-or-girlfriend in attendance tonight. You think about the group chat, how the other women had wished you luck, sent hearts and smileys, and said point-blank “Better you than me!” Award shows weren’t terrible, really, they were just long. You glance over at Jimin and your son: much, much longer than a 3-year-old’s attention span. At that exact moment, his other 5 uncles appear, smiling and bowing at everyone as they make their way to the seats. Jungkook’s face lights up when he sees you; he settles into your husband’s empty seat next to you and pulls you into a warm hug. Down the line, the toddler has been passed into Uncle Yoongi’s arms and you feel a stroke of relief: for some reason, Yoongi was your little guy’s favorite. The rapper could always get him to sleep, even when faced with a bad episode of the Terrible 3′s. You raise your eyebrows and smile in response to Jin’s wave, then turn your attention back to Jungkook. “Does he know you’re here?” he asks seriously, sitting back and straightening his suit jacket. “He didn’t say you were coming.” “Probably not,” you admit, helping the littlest brother fix his tie. “It was a last-minute decision. We wanted to see his presenting skills also.” Jungkook grins, but before he can answer, the lights flicker and then go down: the show is starting. You automatically lean forward to look for your child and find him playing with the end of Hoseok’s fancy tie. Jimin, sitting next to you, pats your knee to reassure you. Knowing there were few places safer for your son than to be surrounded by his 6 loving uncles, you sit back in your seat and try to enjoy the show. It’s not bad, and before you know it, Taehyung appears on stage. He looks amazing, picture-perfect in that black velvet suit you helped him pick out a few days before. You lean forward again and mouth at Hoseok: Tell him appa is there! You wait just a moment to see him start gesturing and speaking close to the toddler’s ear before you sit back in your seat. Taehyung starts reading his scripted part and you’re grateful, again, for the presence of his brothers: it was nice to be able to just watch him shine, not having to worry about a restless baby for a few minutes. The winner is announced, the award presented, and he’s swept off stage again. You smile to yourself; there was nothing better than seeing the man you loved happy and successful. Jungkook bumps your elbow with his and you laugh, knowing it’s a warning that your expression was veering into the cheesy realm. You flash him a guilty look, but he just leans over and says, “He did well.” You smile at the secondhand praise as the show moves on: another four awards go by before you suddenly feel a tiny toddler hand on your knee. He’s standing in front of you, proudly clutching a silver, dangling earring. “Appa,” he announces firmly, lifting his whole arm to show you his treasure. You look down the line of musicians again and see Hoseok shrugging helplessly, his ear now conspicuously bare; next to you, Jimin has a hand over his face to cover his laughter. You sigh. “Oh, you guys,” you say mostly to yourself, leaning down to pull your son into your arms. “Just because he wants it doesn’t mean you have to give it to him!” Jungkook snorts. “Right, like Hobi-hyung could ever say no to him.” He grins at the little boy, who is now proudly showing the earring to his youngest uncle, and reaches out to tickle his little legs. “….Or any of us.” “Exactly.” You gently work the earring out of pudgy toddler hands and pass it back down to its rightful owner. “Not a toy, sweetie. Did you see daddy onstage??” Hearing the brightness in your tone, he starts to babble; you listen indulgently and then lean down to kiss his cheek a few times. He squirms away from you, suddenly restless. Jimin reaches into your packed bag and pulls out a shape-fit toy. Catching the little boy’s interest immediately, he passes the toy to Namjoon and scoops the toddler into his lap just as the MC announces Taehyung’s second appearance on stage. You try to catch his eye this time, but it’s no use: the auditorium is so crowded, the lights so bright. You settle for cheering as loud as you can when he’s done, laughing breathlessly when he makes one of his signature Tae faces at the cameras as he leaves. The show goes on and you realize this is the stretch you were most nervous for: it will be a while before Taehyung does his final presentation, which would be followed immediately by the group’s award, after which you could sneak out and go home. You had planned on taking a few ‘bathroom breaks’ at this point, maybe even taking a walk around the halls and asking one of the others to text you when it’s time to come back, but when you turn to look for your son, you see him snuggled in Yoongi’s arms, fast asleep. Yoongi grins at you, shrugging a little, and you mouth back: You are a miracle-worker. Namjoon passes you a fancy bottled water and leans over Jimin to tell you about a few of the after-show engagements they have. Two awards before Taehyung is set to present his last, a staff-member comes for the band, and they get up, squeezing your hand as they file past you—all except Yoongi. He’s still sitting, holding his nephew tight against him while the child sleeps on. Getting carefully to your feet, you slip into the seat next to him. “Here,” you say, reaching for him. “You need to go.” He shakes his head, moving stubbornly out of your reach. “It’s okay. I’ll go after Taehyung presents his final award, they won’t need me until then.” You smile, brush your toddler’s hair back into place, and squeeze Yoongi’s arm in gratitude. In the end, it’s Taehyung’s voice that disrupts his son’s sleep: he shifts in his uncle’s arms and tiredly looks around for his dad. You lean down to point him out, and the baby reaches for you. “I’ll take him now,” you say quietly to Yoongi, settling the toddler on your lap. “Thank you.” He ruffles the baby’s hair fondly on his way out. When he’s gone, you point up at the stage. “There’s daddy–do you see him? That’s right. We’re going to cheer for him in a second, okay?” Taehyung gets whisked away to the nominee’s circle as soon as he’s done, and before you know it, the entire group are striding across the stage to accept their award, smiling and waving and bowing. Your toddler is nearly beside himself with glee that not only his daddy but 6 of his other favorite people in the whole wide world are standing on a stage, having everyone cheer for them. He laughs and claps happily along with everyone else, and you smile extra hard when Jin, the nominated speaker for the night, mentions their gratitude to the “beautiful supporters in our lives.” Things are running a little behind, so the band is hustled back down to their seats without much fanfare; behind schedule means no commercial-breaks, so the guys have to sit quickly to avoid interfering with the broadcast. In the hustle, they end up sitting in the same order they came off-stage: Jin is next to you, followed by Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok, Jungkook, Namjoon, and Taehyung. Overwhelmed by everything, your little boy starts to throw a fit and it takes the combined efforts of you and Uncle Jin to calm him down. When he’s settled in your lap, sippy-cup in hand, you suddenly realize Taehyung isn’t sitting anywhere near you and hasn’t even said hi. When you look down the row, you see him sitting tiredly in his seat, sweaty and mentally-exhausted from his long night. This makes you smile, but before you can catch his attention, the sippy-cup is upended on your lap; it’s only Jin’s quick thinking that saves you from a major apple-juice wardrobe malfunction. Jimin offers you a couple of things from the baby-bag, but it’s only when Yoongi retrieves his stuffed tiger that the toddler relaxes again. You look down at your husband, wondering if you can catch his attention in a discreet way. The winner of yet another award is announced, and the entire band gets to their feet to congratulate the recipients. While they’re standing, you see Namjoon notice you still sitting on your own, so when they sit back down, he turns immediately to Taehyung and taps him on the shoulder. There’s a brief discussion, and suddenly he locks eyes with you. You can’t help but smile when you see his face: his eyes are wide, his mouth slightly open in surprise. “Is that–” you see him say before turning to look at Namjoon. He looks back at you and some of the surprise starts to melt into joy. He’s still a little wide-eyed, but his perfect box-grin climbs across his face as he mouths your name, looking delighted. “You’re here??” he asks, even though you can’t hear him. Instead of answering, you lean down and point him out to your son, who wriggles to the floor excitedly and races down the row to his dad. Taehyung gathers him in his arms, spreading kisses all over his face and hugging him tight, every trace of exhaustion wiped from him, and you can’t tell who’s smiling the biggest, you or the rest of the members. At the next commercial break, Namjoon prods Taehyung out of his seat and, as one, the other members scoot down a chair, leaving the one next to you empty. You get to your feet as Taehyung approaches. “Hi babe,” you say with a smile. “Looking good.” He laughs and wraps his free arm around you, pulling you close. Balancing the toddler on his other side, he leans down and kisses you, then rests his forehead against yours. “I can’t believe you’re here! When did you get here? Has he been okay?” You kiss his cheek with a laugh and then pull him down to sit next to you. “We got here just before it started—we wanted to see the #1 presenter in the world.” You grin as your compliment turns the tips of his ears pink. He shakes his head in amazement, his eyes still wide from the surprise. “Really?? So you saw the whole thing?” When you nod he just shakes his head again. “I knew something felt different! I wasn’t as nervous, honey, I swear, because you were here!” “You just said you didn’t know we were here,” you laugh, reaching out to fix a strand of his hair. “My heart knew,” he says firmly. He’s finally starting to settle down, his happiness overwhelming his shock. “You are the best.” He kisses the top of your son’s head, then puts his arm around your shoulders, snuggling you close to him. He’s so happy in that moment, everything seems perfect. “I love you,” he murmurs and kisses your lips softly. At that moment, the toddler chucks his stuffed tiger as hard as he can, hoping to hit one of his uncles in the head. You guys watch it fly, and Taehyung adds, “Both of you.”

#bts imagines #Anonymous #REQUESTS #bts scenarios #bts #bts clean imagines #non-smut #bts fluffy imagines #bts imagine taehyung #v #taehyung #imagine requests

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